Deep in the Valley (15 page)

She felt him gently lay her on soft, velvety grass. Her hand was pulled away and replaced with a cool, damp rag. “I didn’t think I saw anyone else in there,” he said. “Your dog—she has a cut, but she’s okay I think.”

June pressed the rag against her head wound and blinked the blood out of her eyes. That was why she couldn’t see; she wasn’t blind after all. Even through closed eyes she could see the glow coming from the burning Jeep. “Oh no,” she cried. She could not take
care of the town without the Jeep. She began to quietly sob.

“But you have your life,” he said. Had she expressed that thought aloud, she wondered? “Here, hold still.” He pulled the cloth away and rinsed it out in the shallow stream beside her. He wiped her eyes clean, then placed it again on her head, stifling the bleeding.

The next time he took it away, she could see clearly. He was a handsome and muscular man, but young. Not even thirty. He wore a homespun, collarless shirt. His hair and beard were dark, and the beard was real. His pants were held up with suspenders made of rope and his boots looked a hundred years old.

“Thank you,” she said weakly. “Who…who—” She was suddenly overcome with nausea. He must have seen the signs because he quickly raised her back and leaned her over to the side. She lost her dinner on the ground.

“Just relax. You’re going to be okay,” he said.

“Where did you come from?” she asked him.

“I live around here.”

“But where? I don’t… Who are you?”

“Just a neighbor, ma’am. Good thing I happened by. Here,” he said, taking the cloth again and rinsing it one more time. She saw then that he had an ax. He followed her eyes and smiled as he returned the rag to her cut. “It’s good I had it with me. I had to use it to get you out of that tangle.”

“You opened the Jeep with an ax?” she asked dumbly.

“There weren’t too many choices,” he said. He stood and hefted his ax. “I think you’ll be okay now. The fire is going to bring your friends to you.”

“You’re leaving?”

“No, I’ll be right over here,” he said, crossing the road in the direction of the burning Jeep.

Then someone was patting her cheeks to rouse her. “Doc,” he was saying. “Come on, Doc, this ain’t no time to play possum.” When she came to again she was looking into the beady eyes and matted beard of Cliff Bender. “Hey, Doc, hey! Come on, Doc!” She shook her head to clear her vision. She must have lost consciousness after the man had left her.

“Where…? Cliff?”

“Can you stand, Doc? Be a good idee t’git further away from that fire, you know what I mean. Just in case the trees take spark. Want me to carry you?”

Her hand was still pressing the rag against her head. “Did you do this?” she asked, lifting the rag.

“Naw, you must’a done it yourself. Took a nasty whack, did you?”

“Oh man,” she moaned. “Sadie?”

“She’s right here, Doc. Up we go…. On your feet now.”

With a hand under her elbow, he brought her upright. The world swam and she swooned against Cliff, nauseous again.

“Easy does ‘er,” he urged.

Before they’d taken twenty steps, June could hear sirens. “Cliff, did you see that man?”

“Who’s ‘at, Doc?”

“The man who pulled me out of the Jeep. He pulled me out and put this cloth on my head. Did you see him?”

“I got here right off, Doc. I was on the road when the Jeep blew. I reckon I’d a seen him if he was here.”

“He was here.” Or, she thought, I could have been hallucinating. She pulled the cloth off her head and studied it. It was not hers; it didn’t come from her medical bag or her Jeep. “He rinsed the rag in the stream,” she said.

“What stream is ‘at, Doc?”

“Why, the stream right over…” But she didn’t know where it was. “Do you think I might’ve crawled out?” she asked Cliff.

“Or maybe got throwed,” he suggested.

“Yeah,” she said. “Throwed.”

Tom was the first to arrive. He merely glanced at June before applying his fire extinguisher to the Jeep and surrounding brush. Cliff didn’t wait to be asked—he pulled a second extinguisher from the Chief’s Rover and gave assistance. They hadn’t made much progress when the volunteer fire department arrived with the only truck. Sam Cussler drove, and when he came to a stop Rob Gilmore, Scott Wiley, Chuck Burnham and Lee Stafford leaped off, dragged hoses and splattered flames. Soon after them, from both directions, came pickup trucks filled with men, sand, shovels, extinguishers, picks, pails and axes. A runaway fire in this part of the world could leave the mountains looking like the face of the moon. Firefighting was not only serious business, it was everyone’s business.

Tom crouched down in front of her. “What happened?”

“A car,” she said. “There was a car coming right at me.”

“Out here? There’s no car.”

“But I saw lights…coming at me…and then—” She
pulled the rag off her head. “Oh brother, wait till I tell you what happened next.” There was a loud blast from the direction of her Jeep, now little more than a black cinder. “Oxygen tanks! Tom, I was on my way to the Dicksons. The baby had stopped breathing!”

“Okay, let’s go,” he said, helping her to her feet.

“Uh, Doc?” Cliff said. “It weren’t no car. Look there.” He pointed down the road a bit, to where the ground was freshly graded from the cleanup after Judge and Birdie’s accident. Pushed off to the side, barely visible from where they stood, was a rear windshield, whole and undamaged, leaning against a tree. Someone must have meant it for salvage, then overlooked it, clear and nearly invisible in the daytime. The reflection of flames and headlights bounced off it eerily.

She’d been nearly killed by her own reflection.

And saved by an angel?

J
une felt as though her head were caught in an ever-tightening vise. The morning light from the window was no help. She groaned and tried to sit up.

“Good morning, sunshine,” John Stone said.

She looked at him through swollen slits. There he was, jauntily dressed in his starched percale shirt, pressed pleated pants, tasseled loafers. In a town full of loggers, farmers, vintners and ranchers, John really stood out. This morning he carried a cup of tea and had a dish towel tucked into the waist of his slacks. My very own Mr. Jeeves, she thought.

“Wow,” she said weakly. “I must have really tied one on.”

“I have some Percodan for you,” he said. “After you’ve had a bite to eat.”

“What are you doing here?”

“What do you remember?”

She closed her eyes briefly and it was all there. “Accident, fire, the Dicksons, the hospital….” Sadie lay beside her on the bed; a piece of scalp about the size of
a silver dollar had been shaved and about a dozen stitches applied. In sudden panic June reached into her bedside table for a mirror. The cut on her forehead stretched into her hairline. It had been neatly stitched and discolored from the antiseptic, but her hair was all there.

“I wouldn’t shave your head there. You’d look pretty stupid if I had.”

“Whew. I figured your sense of style would come in handy eventually.”

“Your X ray was clean—no fracture. Mild concussion. Major head pain. I gave you some analgesic and brought you home. I thought I’d stay and make sure there were no complications. I guess you’re going to have to take the day off.”

She accepted the tea. “What about the baby?”

John reached into his pocket and brought forth a dog biscuit for Sadie, which she politely accepted. “His chest was clear, but the emergency room doctor thinks it’s possible they’re looking at a mitral valve stenosis. Julianna and Mike are taking him to a pediatric cardiologist today.”

“Oh dear. That’s going to be tough. That could mean heart surgery.”

“Maybe. But at least they caught it—that was a very close call. All kinds of close calls last night. Be right back,” he said. He returned with an English muffin on a tray.

“As valets go, you’re pretty good,” she said. “But I don’t know if I can eat.”

“You have to if I’m going to give you something for pain. It’s your only chance of keeping it down.”

“I guess. Where’s my dad?”

“I told him to go home and get some sleep. He’s going to have to take some of your patients today. I can cover most of them, but I’ll need some help.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. “June, think maybe we need another doctor?”

A little huff of laughter escaped her. “What did I do before you came along?”

“The Jeep, June. Total toast. What are we going to do about that?”

“It’ll have to be replaced. I’ll have to lease something and call a medical supplier to load it. I don’t think Tom and the deputies can get us through much more than a couple of days without a medical vehicle. Talk about your headaches.”

“Count me in on that expense.”

“I’ll get reimbursed over time,” she said.

“Great. Then we can both get reimbursed over time. This is my town now, too, you know.”

“John, I don’t want you to take on too many of these responsibilities until you’re sure you’re going to stay permanently.”

“I’ll make a few phone calls today, get some prices,” he said, ignoring her. “And, if your head lets up, call your insurance company.”

“All that stuff is at the clinic….”

“Better yet, I’ll have Jessie do it. The girl’s a paper genius.”

June took a small bite and chewed. “John, you have no idea how much I appreciate all this.”

“Sure I do. And you’re welcome. But you’d do the same for me.”

I would now,
she thought. As she ate her muffin, let John fluff her pillows, and accepted some pain pills, she wondered how she could ever have doubted this guy. With a wife like Susan, how could he get by with anything? And if Susan and Julianna were friends, there was another vote of confidence, because Julianna was not only one of the nicest people in Grace Valley, she also had the best instincts—the single thing that had probably saved her baby’s life last night.

Besides all that, John had stitched up June and her dog and stayed the night to be sure she was all right. Could somebody that sensitive be bad?

She made up her mind. She couldn’t condemn him based on the nervous indictment of a young patient who wouldn’t even explain the circumstances of her complaint! She sighed deeply, at last convinced in her own mind.

“These will knock you out,” John said, shaking out a couple of pills. “That’s about the best medicine right now. Stay in bed…sleep it off. You’ll feel much better tomorrow.”

“Thanks, John. I’d be lost without you.”

Sleep she did. And dream—bright, vivid dreams about the forest, filled with animals and angels. There was a brightly colored parrot diving at her from the highest branches of pine trees, screeching and cawing. She finally realized the phone was ringing insistently.

She rolled over and checked the clock first: 3:00 p.m. She was groggy from the pain medication. She grabbed the phone. “Hullo?” she said thickly.

“Dr. June Hudson, please,” a woman’s voice requested.

“Who’s calling please?”

“Dr. Wendy Feldtbrow,” she said.

June almost said, “Not really! Dr. Felt Brow?” But she caught herself. “Um, this is June Hudson. How can I help you?”

“I understand you’ve been doing a background check on Dr. John Stone?”

She sat up unsteadily, groping both physically and mentally. “Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it a background check. John is seeing patients in our town clinic and I’ve been checking his references. Strictly routine stuff.”

“Hmm. Well, it’s a good thing I called. You wouldn’t refer to his references as
routine
if you knew.”

“Knew?”

“About the sexual assault charges.”

June literally swooned. Next to murder, there couldn’t possibly be anything more serious to allege against a physician, especially an OB. She repeated the charge back into the phone, her voice breathless. “Sexual assault?” she asked weakly.

“I can tell you had no idea.”

“Do you think he’d be seeing patients in my clinic if I knew?” she asked incredulously. June got out of bed, carried the cordless with her to the kitchen and started making coffee. She wasn’t sure if the dull ache in her head was a result of the accident or the phone call. “Can you be more specific, please?”

“Well, let’s see…. I ran into one of the staff of the Fairfield Women’s Clinic. That’s how I learned you’d been asking about Dr. Stone. You must have talked to someone at the clinic.”

“David Fairfield,” June said, giving the coffee an extra scoop. She wished she could take it as an IV push. “But I assure you, he never—”

Wendy Feldtbrow laughed softly. “Well, there you go. He might have mentioned to one of his staff that you’d inquired after Dr. Stone’s reputation and it wandered through the grapevine to me. I am a surgeon and at one time had privileges at some of the same hospitals as Dr. Stone. We knew each other. Pretty well, actually.”

“And? What are the details of this assault?” June pressed.

“If I could, I’d like to start at the beginning. I also knew his wife and we had several mutual friends. John was a good doctor, but he started having professional problems. He was faced with a patient lawsuit, he was reprimanded for dating another patient while he was still married to his wife, he was drinking too much, incurred terrible debt troubles, began making mistakes, generally screwing up.

“For example, he missed a delivery entirely because he didn’t answer his page even though he was on call. Fairfield suspended him, he was evicted from his apartment, his car was repossessed, and there was even some talk about prescription drug abuse. That was just gossip, of course, but if you could have seen him at the time…”

“Jesus!” June stared at the coffeepot, willing it to brew faster.

“I felt so sorry for him, Dr. Hudson. His friends were bailing out on him left and right. I should have known better. After all, I am a doctor. But I offered moral support. As I said, I knew him to be a good
doctor at one time. I found myself alone in his company and he became…well, amorous. And insistent. When I was adamant that we not get involved romantically, he assaulted me. He attempted to rape me.”

“My God.” June thought of John, passing her the cup of tea, the dish towel hanging like an apron from his waist, the dog biscuit for Sadie. His lovely wife, darling little daughter, his dopey handsomeness. She couldn’t put this all together. But if he had been in trouble and addicted to pills and alcohol…

“I called the police, naturally. I was ready to push it, to file charges and take it all the way, but the deputy prosecutor didn’t think it would fly in court. You know the drill—John’s word against mine. But he was fired from the Fairfield Clinic not long after that.”

“Fired? He didn’t say he was fired!”

The doctor snorted impatiently. “Why would he? I’m sure there are a million things he’s covering up. I felt pretty stupid, I can tell you. After all, I’d heard the nurses talk! He was a known flirt. He was accused of sexual harassment on several occasions. I’m sure one of the reasons the Fairfield Clinic couldn’t wait to get rid of him was his known problems with women.”

“Dr. Fairfield didn’t say he was fired, either!”

“Well, I can’t explain that. Nor can I tell you the outcome of all his other problems. Everything was kept very hush-hush. I mean, the Fairfield Clinic is awfully prestigious. They wouldn’t want it to get around that one of their doctors—”

“Yes, but surely there was talk! You must have heard something about the lawsuit? Dating a patient? Drug abuse?”

“I think I might have heard things, if I hadn’t been the one to accuse him of sexual assault. That kind of took me out of the loop, if you know what I mean.”

“I would think that very fact would have your colleagues running to you with each new tale!” June said.

“Well, it seems to have had the opposite effect.”

“And all this happened…when?”

“Let’s see. Summer. Seven years ago. He left the Bay Area soon after the trouble started, and I was a practicing surgeon until last year. Now I’m doing some research.”

“My God. You’ll have to forgive me, Dr. Felt Good—”

“That’s Feldtbrow.”

“Oh dear, sorry. You’ve caught me at a double disadvantage. First of all, the shock of this story has me speechless. And, if I seem a little dense, it’s because I was asleep when you called. I took a big whack on the head last night. Car accident.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“So I need a little time to digest this.”

“Of course you do!”

“This is very unsettling, to say the least. Do you have any documentation I might look at? Your police report, perhaps?”

“I might have that somewhere…filed away. I’ll look around for it. Of course, there is one place I know you’ll find the documentation you’ll need. The police department. This is all a matter of public record. Unless he’s somehow managed to get the records purged.”

“I suppose,” June said, wondering how she could find out. “And could you give me a phone number? I
have to think this through…decide what I’m going to do next…and I may want to talk to you again.”

“Absolutely.”

June scribbled out the name and number and they said their goodbyes.

John Stone was a roller coaster ride. Boring nerd? Deviant? Sweet caretaker? Abuser?

June called the clinic to see how the day had gone. Apparently Elmer and John had managed very well; even Charlotte was in a good mood. “Just like old times,” she said. “Having your dad take charge of the office again.”

“Well, I hate to upset your routine, but I’m planning to come back tomorrow.”

“Isn’t that a bit soon?” Charlotte asked.

“For you, probably. For me, not at all. And tell me, how is Dr. Stone holding up? I believe he was up all night, sitting vigil over my split skull.”

“He’s starting to wilt,” Charlotte said. “Looks like he should call it a day pretty soon. But he said he wants to go out to your place to check on you before going home.”

“No!” June looked down at the tablet on which she’d written Dr. Wendy Feldtbrow and a phone number. She ripped the page off and folded it in half. “I mean, that’s not at all necessary.” She couldn’t see John now for she wouldn’t be able to conceal her concern and confusion and anxiety about him. “Tell him to send Elmer out here. I’m perfectly all right. I don’t even have a headache. But I do want to borrow my dad’s truck. I have a couple of errands.”

“You shouldn’t be driving.”

She didn’t feel like arguing with Charlotte. “Fine, I’ll let my dad drive. And maybe have him take me out to dinner. But I don’t need John tonight.”

“You sure?”

“Oh yes. I’m sure.”

Elmer arrived at six. He gave two sharp taps on the front door to warn her, then opened it. “June?” he called. “You see this out here?”

“See what?”

“You better come look.”

Sadie bounded out the front door ahead of her. When June got to the porch, she gasped. It was covered with gifts. There were flowers, plants, casseroles, cakes, pies, cookies, cards, stuffed animals, embroidered pillows, bows, bells, an ice chest filled with tea and lemonade, a daisy afghan, a stack of paperback novels tied up with a ribbon, videos, playing cards, a get-well poster—everything but a side of beef. She had never heard a single car engine; Sadie had never raised an alarm.

“Looks like the whole town has been here, “she said, stunned.

“A long way from a dozen eggs or a basket of fruit, eh, June?” he asked.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” she said.

“Makes a body feel it might’ve been worth it to take a sick day, after all,” Elmer suggested.

She realized then that perhaps they never had. Either of them. Oh, they’d had the occasional day off, even that rare case of the flu or a sprain. But neither of them had ever been seriously ill or hurt. The people in town must have been terrified at the mere thought they might lose their doctor.