Twice Upon a Train Page 8

  “Don’t be too hard on yourself. Those who suffer from eating disorders hide them well.”

  “So, if it is an eating disorder, eating solves her problem?”

  Keegan squeezed her shoulders. “I hope so.”

  “But you don’t think so.”

  “Eating disorders negatively impact every organ system in the body. If it is an eating disorder, her prognosis would depend on several variables.”

  Willow shook her head. “And even if you tell her that, she probably won’t consent to an exam. God, I don’t know why she has to be like that.”

  “She’s afraid.”

  “Of doctors? No, I don’t think so. I don’t think she’s afraid of anyone.”

  “Of knowing,” Keegan said softly, “of dealing with the things that need to be dealt with.”

  “I’m scared for her.”

  “I know,” Keegan said, kissing her forehead, “and I’ll do my best to help her.”

  “Where do you want me?” Willow asked, pausing outside the cabin.

  “In your bedroom?” Keegan answered, gently shrugging her shoulders. “Or you could take a walk, whatever suits you. If all goes well and she lets me examine her, it’ll be forty-five minutes to an hour. If not, it’ll be, however long it goes.”

  “Okay. I think I’ll just let you in and go in my room from the other door. Might be better if she doesn’t see me.”

  “Because she wouldn’t want you to know?”

  “No, because she’d minimize like I don’t know she’s not invincible or something.”

  “Okay, so I’ll come in when I’m finished.”

  “Perfect,” Willow said, unlocking the door. “And good luck.”

  *

  “Nikki, it’s Keegan.”

  “Come in,” Nicole responded.

  “I’ll be right there. I need to wash my hands first.”

  “I’m not interested in having an exam.”

  “I know,” Keegan answered, turning on the water, and lathering. As she scrubbed, the words of her first mentor filled her mind—As a physician, you’re privileged, privileged to see patients when they’re most vulnerable, privileged to heal them, privileged to help them reshape their lives. As she ticked through assessment techniques, remembering the sequence of a physical exam, an unexpected flutter danced in her belly. It’d been ages since she’d felt the passion, so long that she’d almost not recognized it for what it was. Well, hello, old friend. Welcome home.

  Nicole closed her laptop. “I assume Willow has spoken with you about my involvement in a lawsuit in which you’ve been named.”

  “She has,” Keegan answered, her voice calm.

  “And here you are. I’m impressed.”

  “Don’t be,” Keegan said, setting down her medical bag. “Willow’s worried about you. And quite honestly, you don’t look well.”

  “Right on both counts,” Nicole responded, “but I know plenty of docs who wouldn’t have shown up.” She grimaced, reaching for her satchel.

  “Here, let me get that for you,” Keegan said, sliding the leather case to within her grasp, and standing by as she slid her hand into the side pocket.

  “So, you weren’t dodging service,” Nicole said, studying her.

  “No. I was on the train when I became aware of the lawsuit. I guess I could’ve ended my vacation ahead of schedule, returned so that you could have me served, but I chose not to.”

  Nicole retrieved a document from the case, still studying her. “I can’t blame you for that,” she said, holding her gaze as she tore it into tiny pieces. “That was your summons,” she announced, sweeping them from the desk to the wastebasket. “I filed an electronic motion for voluntary withdrawal from your case.”

  Keegan’s eyes narrowed, the tables turning.

  “The plaintiff will retain another attorney,” Nicole continued, “but I doubt that the case will go forward. Whatever happens, I won’t have any further involvement.”

  Keegan cocked her head, puzzled.

  “It wouldn’t be ethical,” Nicole responded, “for me to continue as the opposing counsel in a lawsuit filed against my best friend’s lover.”

  Keegan held steady, unblinking. “So, you’d like a prescription,” she said, “without an exam.”

  Amusement flickered in Nicole’s eyes. “That’s correct.”

  “Okay, so here’s my problem with that—”

  “You’d have been so much fun on the stand,” Nicole said playfully. “Look at you, refusing to take my bait.”

  “So, here’s my problem with that,” Keegan continued, determined not to react, “without examining you, I’d be shooting in the dark, and I’m not willing to do that. Not only might I prescribe a medication that didn’t treat your condition, but I might also prescribe one that would actually harm you.” Her tone softened. “Look, I know you’re not feeling well. And, I know that the last thing you want is to hear my ethical rigmarole. All you want is to feel better. And that’s what I want for you. So, how about this as a compromise? How about we discuss your symptoms, and then you let me take your pulse, blood pressure, and check your heart. We can do it right here. Then, we’ll see where we’re at, and if I can write you a script at that point, hallelujah, I will. And if I can’t, well then maybe we should think about doing a bit more thorough exam. How about that? Do we have a plan?”

  “Smooth, Dr. Wade—”

  “Keegan.”

  “Smooth, Dr. Wade, but no cigar. You see, here’s the thing, I believe that I have the flu, and I know that the flu is a virus, and I know that antibiotics aren’t effective against viruses. So, what I believe is that I just need to let this thing run its course. Willow, on the other hand, believes that I have the bubonic plague or something, and has worked herself into a lather thinking that if you don’t prescribe me an antibiotic, I’m going to die.”

  Keegan smiled. “Okay, so we’re rolling! I can rule out bubonic plague from here.”

  “A doctor with a sense of humor,” Nicole observed, smiling back. “I can see what Willow sees in you.”

  “Does that mean you’ll let me examine you?” Keegan asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

  “Not a chance, Dr. Wade. Not a snowball’s chance in hell.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The room smelled of wild berries, mandarin, and vanilla—the deliciously, deep scent of Willow’s cologne. A social work textbook lay open on the nightstand, Willow’s current reading—Chapter Fifteen: The Assessment and Treatment of Eating Disorders. Keegan stood in the doorway, wondering what she’d done to deserve this moment. Breathless, she watched her breathe.

  Willow stirred, smiling as her eyes fluttered open. “Hi.”

  Keegan sat on the edge of the bed, brushing back a lock of her hair with tenderness. “Hi.”

  “I must’ve fallen asleep.”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  When Willow stretched, yawning, she exposed her midriff. “How did it go?” she asked, “did she let you examine her?”

  “Are you kidding?” Keegan shook her head, the corners of her mouth turning upward. “I quote, ‘Not a chance, Dr. Wade. Not a snowball’s chance in hell.’ She’s a tough nut to crack; I’ll give her that much. But in spite of it, I believe we made progress. I’ll try again later.” She skated her fingertips along Willow’s waistband, gently caressing her belly.

  “We could shut the door,” Willow suggested, parting her legs ever so slightly.

  “We could,” Keegan murmured, a shiver of want running through her, “but I don’t want to rush this, and I’m supposed to meet Humphrey for lunch in half an hour.” She lightened her touch to one finger, moving it in circular motions around Willow’s navel—the circle getting smaller and smaller. Then, she kissed a slow series of kisses along the trail.

  Willow locked gazes. “Much more of that, and you’re gonna reschedule.”

  “Is that right?” Keegan answered playfully.

  “Very—and you need to remember that two can play this gam
e.”

  “Promises, promises.”

  “Uh-huh, you just wait.”

  “I have an idea,” Keegan said, gently tugging down Willow’s blouse. “How about you join us for lunch? We’ll make it quick, saying we need to get back to check on Nikki.” She winked, then wiggled both eyebrows. “And then, we’ll pick up where we left off. I was thinking; if you wanted, I could spend the night.”

  Willow pressed her lips together. “Hmmm, I wonder how Nikki would react to that?”

  “She’d be fine with it,” Keegan said, suppressing a smile. “I mean, she already knows we’re having sex, right?”

  “Oh, good God, she told you.”

  “Of course, she told me,” Keegan said, laughing. “I think I disappointed her when I didn’t react. Hindsight, I should’ve reacted; let her enjoy the moment.”

  “I always react,” Willow said, going on to explain how she’d come to leave Nicole believing that she and Keegan had been intimate. “I figured it was just a matter of time before we did, so when she said it, I just went with it.”

  “I get it,” Keegan responded, sharing that the end result was that Nicole had withdrawn from the lawsuit.

  “I hope that means it’s going away.”

  “Not necessarily, but maybe.”

  “Every once in a while, she does that,” Willow said, “does the right thing with no apparent motive. It always surprises me.”

  “She had a motive,” Keegan responded, “she cares about you, wants to see you happy.”

  “I’d like to think that,” Willow said, standing. “Okay, so, if we’re going to lunch, I need to change clothes.” And in that next instant she peeled off her shirt, her gaze lingering playfully. “Sit tight; it’ll just take me a minute.”

  Keegan stared, speechless, Willow’s floral lace underwire bra capturing her full attention. “Take your time. No hurry, no hurry whatsoever.”

  *

  The gold rush era was alive and well in the San Fran Cafe, its decor ranging from old maps to photographs of those who’d traveled west in search of fortune to mining artifacts, and its menu featuring early frontier cooking. “I like this restaurant,” Keegan said, stepping inside, “its decor is spot-on for the period, its entrées have cool titles, and I don’t have to wear a tie.” She smiled, her gaze traveling down Willow’s dress. “Seems you dress up, regardless.”

  “No, not always. I changed to teach you a lesson.”

  “Oh, so that’s what you were doing,” Keegan answered, chuckling. “You tease me, and I’ll tease you. I like that. Feel free to teach me lessons anytime you want to.”

  “Well, obviously, it didn’t work,” Willow responded, her cheeks becoming rosy.

  “Probably because I’m a slow learner,” Keegan said with a wink. “I think you need to try again.”

  “Good afternoon,” the waiter greeted. “Two for lunch?”

  “We’re meeting someone,” Keegan said, scanning the establishment, “an older, African American gentleman.”

  “There he is,” Willow announced, waving. “See him? He’s in the back with Mrs. Pilister. I’ll bet I know what the table topic’s gonna be.”

  Keegan shook her head, smiling. “It starts when you’re in medical school. You go home for the holidays, or you’re in line at the supermarket, or you’re at your grandmother’s funeral, wherever you are, if someone has a medical question, they’re going to ask it.”

  “Doesn’t that get old?” Willow asked. “Being a doctor, twenty-four-seven?”

  “No,” Keegan responded, “because it’s what you signed up for, it’s who you are.” She took a breath, meeting her gaze. “But for significant others, it can sometimes be a pain.”

  “Right this way,” the waiter said, collecting two menus.

  “I brought along my new lady friend,” Humphrey greeted, shaking Keegan’s hand. “And you did too, so I guess it’s okay.”

  “Absolutely,” Keegan responded, smiling at Mrs. Pilister, who in turn, beamed. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better, thanks to you,” Hilda said, turning to Humphrey with dreamy eyes. “And to this handsome man.”

  When the waiter appeared with his tablet, Keegan ordered the Dutch Oven Trout with Baked Pocket Yams; Willow ordered the Pork Smothered in Mormon Gravy and Cooked Cabbage Salad; Humphrey ordered the Spiced Corned Beef and Fried Apples.

  Hilda pursed her lips, studying the menu. “I believe I’ll have the Chuckwagon Beans with Bacon.”

  Keegan lifted an eyebrow.

  “Or, on second thought,” she corrected with a nervous giggle, “maybe the Winter Red Flannel Hash would be a better choice.”

  “And before you go,” Keegan added, “I’ll need a custom carryout order.” She surveyed the à la carte items. “I’ll have a banana, an order of applesauce, an order of rice without butter, and chicken broth. Oh, and an order of whole wheat toast.”

  Willow smiled, watching her.

  Keegan smiled back. “Easy on the stomach.”

  *

  The room was dark, drapes drawn, and lights off. In the air, hung the stale smell of vomit. Nicole rolled to her back when the door opened, wincing as she propped onto pillows. Keegan smiled, going to her. Then, she bowed, dropping to one knee. “I join bearing largess, mine lady.”

  Nicole’s eyes darted to Willow and back, a slight smile on her face. “You do, huh?”

  “Ay, to traffic for a favor.”

  Nicole lifted an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. What do you want?”

  “I seek thy permission to lay mine pate towards the pillow in the adjoining quarters,” Keegan answered, “with thy meetest friend and mine love.” She chuckled. “We shall try our meetest not to disturb thy sleep.”

  Nicole laughed, wincing. “Don’t make me laugh.”

  “I shall doth mine meetest.”

  “Okay, so what’d you bring me?”

  Keegan reached into her carryout bag. “A stoup of savory broth, rice, and toast meant to be primrose on thy stomach.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “I hast another gift. Doth thou desire it?”

  “What is it?”

  Keegan reached into her bag. “A banana.”

  “I don’t like bananas.”

  “Aw, join on, mine lady.”

  “Okay, I’ll play along. In trade for what?”

  “That I might be allowed to take thy pulse.”

  Nicole’s eyes twinkled, catching Willow’s. “What a smooth-talking devil you are, Dr. Wade. I can see how you so quickly talked your way into my friend’s pants.”

  Keegan paused, gathering her composure.

  Nicole laughed, wincing. “Fine, you can take my pulse.”

  Keegan cocked her head, holding her gaze. “I hast one moe gift. Doth thou desire it?”

  “What is it?”

  Keegan removed the last container. “Applesauce, a sweet delicacy, mine lady.”

  “Good God, what do you want for that?”

  Keegan smiled broadly, pulling her stethoscope from her pocket like a magician pulls a rabbit from his hat.

  “To listen to thy heart, mine lady.”

  “You are quite something, Dr. Wade.”

  “Keegan.”

  “Okay, Keegan, you are quite something.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “You are so good with her,” Willow said, coming up behind Keegan, her arms locking around her waist. “You must be such a good doctor.”

  Keegan turned, gathering her into her arms, and holding her. “Some days, better than others.”

  “I think you’re too self-critical.”

  “That’s because for some reason, here with you and Nikki, I’ve found my mojo.” She kissed the tip of her nose. “Now, if I can just hold onto it.” And, with a squeeze and another kiss, she let go. “Alright, so I probably need to get back in there before she changes her mind.”

  “If she said yes, she’ll stand by her word.”

  “Okay, so at a minimum that means she’ll let me take her pulse,” Keegan re
sponded, kissing her lips one more time. “At least it’s a start, right?” She kissed her again, gently squeezing her bottom. Then, she draped her stethoscope around her neck. “Okay, let’s see if I can accomplish anything.”

  “You will,” Willow promised. “I have a good feeling about it this time.” She smiled, shaking her head slowly. “She’s certainly taken a liking to you. And trust me, that’s rare for a doctor.” She touched her hand. “Of course, it helped that you dropped to one knee, wooing her in Old English.”

  “Gotta do what you gotta do.”

  “That’s what I mean,” Willow said softly, “that you’d go to that length to make your patient comfortable, that’s how I know that you have to be such a good doctor.”

  “Trust me, Nikki’s getting a little extra.”

  “Because she’s my friend?”

  “Yes, and because for some reason, we’ve connected.” She peered into Willow’s eyes. “I think it’s because we both love you.”

  Willow’s lips parted, catching her breath. “I think you need to kiss me one more time before you go.”

  Keegan smiled. “Mine pleasure, beautiful lady.”

  “Be still my heart,” Willow murmured, as Keegan’s lips came coaxingly down to hers.

  *

  Keegan stepped into Nicole’s room, noticing that the food containers were as she’d left them. “Not able to eat anything?” she asked softly.

  Nicole met her gaze with a soft sigh. “No.”

  “Maybe in a little while,” Keegan answered, nodding toward the edge of her bed. “Okay if I sit down?”

  When Nicole moved over, she winced in pain.

  “You need to let me take a look at you.”

  “Take my pulse; that’s our deal.”

  “Denial’s great until it kills you,” Keegan countered, hearing her words, and thinking they were a bit harsh. “You need to let me examine you.” She reached for Nicole’s wrist, placing two fingers over her radial artery, and counting the number of beats in a fifteen-second period. When she released her grasp, she found Nicole looking at her.