Page 30 of Dr. Alaska
Not even her pride remained, and that stung the most.
Blinking back tears, she sniffled and logged onto the credit card sites.
Two maxed out cards with credit limits set way too high.
She clicked. Two minimum payments made.
Two more weeks until her bank account would contain money again.
Lee tucked her legs up under her, pulled the quilt more tightly around her, and sat alone in the rental, trapped in Yukon Valley.
Chapter Eleven
As it turnedout, lining up two different call schedules for people with two different types of healthcare occupations, in a resource-strapped environment like Yukon Valley where emergencies upended everyone’s day, challenged even Mav’s matrix schedule design skills. Another week had passed.
Here it was, Friday midday, and he’d completed preparations for the guests coming in later today for the weekend. Hell, as of today, it was now February.
In no time it would be March.
And because Dee told him the initial length of Lee’s locums assignment, he also knew what came after March.
Nothing.
He and Lee hadn’t managed to do more than have lunch together in the cafeteria a few times. While he enjoyed her company, he could sense the professional walls she kept around her while in the hospital. Frankly, he tried to do the same. Didn’t matter that he knew every employee by first name—he and Lee were in a workplace. He still needed to maintain decorum, even if decorum was the last thing on his mind when her tongue flicked over her lower lip, or her cheeks turned pink when he stared at her too long.
Last week’s anticipated date hadn’t materialized because Lee had to rush in and help Dr. Burmeister with an urgent C-section that evening. Something about breech twins at thirty-three weeks gestational age. Mav thanked his lucky stars he didn’t have to professionally deal with that situation as an EMT. Those little babies had gone to Fairbanks with the NICU team that had flown in on a fixed-wing to transport them.
Those newborns in no way respected Lee’s schedule. The stinkers.
Tomorrow, though. She would meet him here at the house for a tour of the property and to see his babies. Might stay for an hour or so. If the day went well, they might go out for dinner later or have a meal at the house. No structured plans. Casual. No pressure.
A thump under his ribs and sweaty palms told a different story. He straightened up pictures on the mantel for the tenth time this morning. Truth be told, the tidying up wasn’t for the guests’ benefit.
He had taken time to tame his unruly hair—normally, it lived in chaos under the beanie. He hadn’t had time to get it cut, but at least with a little hair gel he wouldn’t look like that Grizzly Adams character. He’d also carefully shaved this morning, not rushing like his usual slice-and-dice routine. He would repeat the effort tomorrow morning before Lee arrived.
Glancing down, he patted his navy flannel shirt tucked neatly into his coated, insulated cargo pants. Guest arrival day meant he needed presentable but functional clothing.
He glanced over at Kenai, who lounged half asleep on her back near the great room fireplace, her tongue lolling to one side. Hopefully, she’d continue relaxing, along with the other dogs happily tucked in their kennels out back.
Scooping up the latest bills from yesterday’s trip to the post office box, he saw two red past-due stamps and shook his head. Another envelope was from the Bureau of Land Management—at least it didn’t appear to be a bill. Lastly, a large manila envelope had a US Geologic Survey return address. Again, not a bill, so not something he would deal with right now. Mav had no idea why BLM or USGS wanted anything to do with him. He and Dee held land and mineral rights to the property, not that there was anything worth digging up. He shoved the letters and two bills into the top kitchen desk drawer, adding to the thick pile already there.
Later.
For now, he wanted to think about a certain woman from Georgia who had felt perfect in his arms. Those lips. Man, she could kiss. Her body fit against his like a puzzle piece. It had taken a superhuman effort for him to walk away in the doctors’ lounge last week. He tugged at his pants and swallowed. Hopefully, he could keep a level head and concentrate on a visit—and only a friendly visit—tomorrow.
Didn’t matter if he hoped one thing would lead to another—her time here was limited. Anything serious wouldn’t work, and Mav wouldn’t risk another wilderness relationship disaster. No, he’d enjoy friendship with Lee and show her his dogs and the beauty of the tundra. That was it.
The sour flavor on his tongue tasted like disappointed resolve.
A message popped up on his phone, relayed to him via the house’s satellite Wi-Fi, not through a cell tower. Living several miles away from town there weren’t any towers close enough for a signal.
Lee wrote,T-minus one day until I get to see the babies!
Mav had explained early on that his babies were indeed sled dogs, in case she thought he had random small children hanging around. He replied,Can’t wait. It’ll be a fun day.Unless the predicted storm kicked up. Then it would be a miserable day.
Hopefully, she had good gear.
Hopefully, the guests also had proper gear and solid knowledge of operating a “snowgo,” as Dad liked to call the snowmachines. Mav had tuned up their fleet of six sleds, accumulated over time by his parents and kept on hand for guests’ use. All running smoothly, as of this morning.
