that rift.”
“You’re saying you will have to juggle a lot and that the clinic isn’t necessarily first on the list.” She nodded. “I get that and I accept it. I have to. I don’t have another option. I have a lot invested in getting this clinic going and I’m willing to do whatever it takes.” She caught his skeptical glance at her hands and smiled. “Just because I haven’t lived on a ranch for a while doesn’t mean I don’t know how to work hard.”
“Okay then. I’ll do the best I can.” Kent nodded once.
“And I’ll help however I can. Just ask.” Her beeper interrupted. Jaclyn glanced at it. “I have to go.”
“What will you do for offices in the meantime?” Kent asked.
“The hospital gave me a room to use for consulting, for now. Not that I need much. People here don’t seem willing to trust me.” She tried to swallow the bitterness.
“Folks in Hope take a while to embrace outsiders.” He blinked, obviously only then remembering that she wasn’t exactly an outsider. “I had my own struggle after Doc McGregor died. It took forever for people to let me treat their cattle.”
“And you weren’t even guilty of almost burning down the local church.” She grimaced. “Nobody’s going to stop seeing me as that stupid kid. Maybe it was dumb of me to think I could come back here.”
“No, it wasn’t. People here will get to know you. Some will remember you were just a kid who lost your sister. Besides, you and your parents repaired the damage. Not that it matters anyway. The church is in bad condition now.”
“Maybe I could find a way to restore it,” she murmured. “Maybe that would make them forget.”
“It’s a nice thought.” His tanned brow furrowed. “But it’s not just your past. Your family only lived here for a few years, Jaclyn—your parents left when you did and neither they nor you ever came back. I’m not trying to hurt you, but to folks in Hope, you are an outsider.”
“But I’m trying to help them!”
“I know.” Kent nodded. “But while you’ve been away things have changed. Because of the mine, people here are more suspicious than ever before.”
“Is that even possible?” she quipped.
“Oh, yeah.” He didn’t smile. “I told you the town had split over the mine, but I didn’t tell you that the split was caused by outsiders who set friends and neighbors against each other, using scare tactics, among other things. Everyone’s suspicious of everyone right now. But folks will come around. We need your clinic, Jaclyn.”
We need your clinic? She liked the sound of that.
“Don’t give up on your dream, okay?”
“No chance of that—I owe it to Jessica.” The beeper sounded again. “Thanks, Kent.” Jaclyn waggled her fingers as she strode toward her car.
After she had treated the baby who’d ingested his brother’s marble, she sat and enjoyed her first cup of coffee of the day, recalling the note of earnestness in Kent’s voice when he’d told her not to give up.
Remembering the forlorn look on his face last night when she’d visited his ranch, she wanted to repeat it back to him.
But now she wondered, what were Kent’s dreams?
* * *
Dr. Jaclyn LaForge possessed remarkable powers of persuasion.
As he watched her drive away, Kent couldn’t quite quash his smile. He walked through his dad’s building a second time, remembering her insistence that she would help with renovations. As if those manicured hands would know how to grip a hammer.
His smile faded as he noted issues he’d missed. He should have been in here before this.
He should have done a lot of things.
Like not notice how Jaclyn’s smile made her eyes as glossy as black walnut fudge. Like escape that hug she’d laid on him. Like ignore the way she’d lured him into helping her reach that goal of hers. The hurt in her eyes when she revealed that she’d been rebuffed by the locals had nearly done him in.
Kent drew on his memories of the LaForge twins. Jessica had always been the serious twin, Jaclyn the prankster. But after her sister’s death, Jaclyn had bottled up her pain and anger until she’d finally exploded on graduation night. He’d understood why. Jaclyn had put so much faith in believing God would heal her sister. She couldn’t reconcile Jessica’s death with that faith. That’s why she’d torn up the newly planted flower beds at the church. It was the reason she’d spray painted the walls and made a mess that had scandalized the entire town. Jaclyn had needed answers that night and she hadn’t been able to find any that satisfied.
He knew how that felt. He’d asked why so many times. He still didn’t have the answer he craved. He wondered if Jaclyn had ever found hers.
Uncomfortable with the direction of his thoughts, Kent reconsidered Jaclyn. She was still stunningly beautiful, but she’d lost the easy, confident joy in life that had once been so much a part of her. Jaclyn now seemed hunted, as if she had to prove something. He recalled her words.
I owe it to Jessica.
Kent knew all about obligations, and about failing them. Boy, did he know. He veered away from the familiar rush of guilt and recalled instead the closeness between the sisters. He, like others in their youth group, had attended many prayer services for Jessica in the small adobe church. But Jessica had died in spite of Jaclyn’s insistence that if they just asked heaven enough times, God would respond.
Clearly the obligation to her sister still drove Jaclyn.
Brimming with questions that had no answers, Kent continued his inspection of the building. He pressed the wall in several places where water leaks had soaked through the plaster and left huge spots of dark brown. Each time he pushed, hunks of soggy plaster crumbled and tumbled to the floor. It would all have to be removed.
His former tenants had complained about something in the bathroom. Too busy with Lisa’s depression, the failing ranch and his own pathetic practice to tend to the matter himself, Kent had hired a plumber. He now saw that the work was substandard. The bathroom would need to be gutted.
There were other issues, too. The roof, for one. Some of the clay tiles had cracked and broken away. Summer rains in Hope were aptly named monsoons. This past summer, the water had managed to find a way in, ruining large portions of the ceiling.
Kent made four phone calls. Then he took off his jacket, rolled up his shirtsleeves and got to work hauling refuse out to the newly arrived Dumpster he’d ordered. He’d been working about two hours before a phone call sent him back to his clinic at the ranch to treat a family pet. One thing after another popped up until it was evening. He wanted nothing more than to sprawl out in his recliner and relax, but he’d promised Jaclyn that building and her deadline would roll around too soon.
After a quick meal, Kent filled a thermos with coffee, grabbed an orange and headed back into town. At sunset his high school chum Zac Enders stopped in.
“Out for the usual run, huh, Professor?” Kent used the old nickname deliberately because it bugged Zac. He tossed yet another shovel full of plaster into a bin.
“Yeah. What’s going on here?” Zac grabbed a push broom and slid a new pile of rubbish onto Kent’s shovel. “You sell the place?”
“I wish.” Kent dumped the load, stood the shovel and leaned on its handle. “You didn’t hear about Jaclyn’s clinic burning?”
“Actually I did. I was out of town for a two-day conference but someone at the office filled me in.” Zac had become the superintendent of Hope’s school district the previous fall. “Shame.”
“Yeah, it is.” Kent waved a hand. “She wants to use this place. She’s got to be up and running within