Page 8 of A Soldier's Return

“He should have worried a little more about himself. He could barely stand up the last few weeks before the surgery.”

Tiffany was a bit rough around the edges but like everyone else, she adored Dr. Sanderson and frequently told patients how cool it was that she now worked for the doctor who had delivered her twenty years earlier.

“Your father was so worried about taking time away from his patients he almost didn’t have the surgery, though his specialist has been urging him to for months. At least as long as I’ve been here,” Melissa said.

“Longer,” Carmen said, her expression exasperated. The older woman liked to mother everyone, even their boss, who was at least two or three years older than the office manager.

“I think he would have continued putting it off and hobbling around if he hadn’t injured the right one so badly two weeks ago,” Melissa said. “Then the surgery became not only urgent but imperative.”

“Everything worked out for the best,” Eli said. “I was able to create a gap in my schedule and here I am, at least for a few weeks.”

Yes. Here you are.

She had thought him gorgeous in skintight workout clothes. That was nothing compared to the sight of him in khaki slacks, a white exam coat and a crisply ironed button-down shirt a few shades lighter than his blue eyes.

She had been a nurse for years and had never been particularly drawn to a physician, until right this moment.

“How’s the wrist?” he asked.

At his words, the pain she had been staving off seemed to rush back. She held up the brace and wriggled her fingers. “Still aches but it’s bearable. I agree with you that I should hold off a day or two before I have it x-rayed.”

“Did you have any time to put ice on it?”

“A few minutes. Which is the main reason I’m late.”

“Good. That’s the best thing you can do.”

They lapsed into silence and she tried to keep from gawking at him. She loved her job, working with Wendell Sanderson. The man had been nothing but kind to her since the day she’d come back to Cannon Beach. She hated thinking things would be awkward and uncomfortable with Eli here.

She could handle anything for a few weeks, Melissa reminded herself. Even working for a man for whom she had developed a serious thirst.

“Can you give me the charts of those who have appointments today? I’d like to try familiarizing myself with their files.”

His words were directed to Carmen yet still provided Melissa the reminder she needed. He was her boss and she couldn’t forget that.

“I’ve already pulled the charts of those coming in this morning. They’re on your dad’s desk, since I figured you would be setting up in there,” the office manager replied. “I’ll find the rest and bring them in for you.”

“Thank you.” He gave the woman a polite smile, and Melissa could swear she felt her ovaries melt.

When he walked back down the hallway toward his office, Melissa slumped into one of the chairs in the waiting room.

Oh, this was not good. At all. She might have silently wished for a man this morning, but in truth she didn’t have time for that kind of complication. She had Skye and work and friends, not to mention the online classes she was taking to work toward her nurse practitioner license. There was no room left for her to be stupid about Eli.

“Are you okay?” Carmen asked.

“I will be.”

Eventually.

“He seems nice, doesn’t he?” Tiffany said. “Dr. Sanderson talks about his son like all the time, but I always pictured him different, somehow. Since he’s in the army, I thought he’d have a buzz cut and be all harsh and by the book.”

She hadn’t pictured him at all, hadn’t really given Eli Sanderson much thought over the years. Now she was afraid she would be able to think about little else.

Even her throbbing wrist couldn’t seem to distract her.

“How did your first day go? Any problems or unique diagnoses you think I need to know about?”

Eli adjusted his dad’s pillow, giving him a stern look. “Your only job right now is to focus on healing from this surgery. I can take care of your patients, got it? You don’t need to worry about them.”

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