And His Landlord is...

The clinic was located on Long Street, which, as Colin learned from Stacy Pierce, the woman driving the car, was the longest street in town. Also the main one, as if anyone had any doubts. Colin had already seen it—he had traveled down it by bus before it turned into the bus depot. However, his new workplace was much farther away.

The clinic was in a relatively new building, no more than twenty years old by the looks of it. The locals had built it themselves because they felt the nearest hospital was too far away and wanted a doctor close by. For twenty years, that doctor had been Old Man Peterson, as everyone called Dr. Abraham Peterson, the only physician White Shore had ever had. Unfortunately, age spares no one, and the elderly doctor was no longer what he used to be. So they hired a new one.

The equipment was as basic as it could possibly be. It was a miracle they even had an EKG machine (though an old model) and a defibrillator. But Colin hadn't expected much more.

"You have no idea how excited everyone is that we're getting a new doctor. And from a big-city hospital!" Red-haired Stacy was practically bouncing as she gave him a tour of the clinic. A waiting room with a reception desk, a treatment room, the doctor's office, and two rooms with four beds each. "You already have a full schedule of patients for tomorrow."

"Really?" he asked, checking the supply cabinets. "I thought it would take some time for people to warm up to me."

"Why would it? You were sent by Dr. Robinson, one of Dr. Peterson's students and colleagues!"

Hmm, apparently, connections mattered a lot here. If Peterson was trusted, his student was trusted, and whoever that student sent automatically earned the town's trust as well. That was not what Colin had expected, but he had no reason to complain. The townspeople likely assumed that, thanks to their connections, they had been sent the most promising young doctor available.

Colin didn't grit his teeth, though he wanted to.

"Well, I won't be bored, then," he said. "Miss Pierce, you did well today."

She beamed like the sun but quickly sobered.

"It's a shame about Old Pete. He drove that route for forty years..."

Something unpleasant twisted in Colin's chest. Old Pete. So that's what they called the bus driver. Forty years on the same route. All it took was one day, one moment…

"Was he from here?"

"From a neighboring town, but he drove here so long that everyone knew him."

He was probably one of the most recognizable people in the area.

"I'm sorry."

"Me too. But I've been a nurse for two years now, so I know that sometimes medicine just can't do anything. Pete had a heart attack three years ago and was supposed to retire, but he wanted to work a little longer. He liked the job."

Ah, so he had a history of heart disease.

"But you must be tired and hungry!" Stacy changed the subject so abruptly that it caught him off guard.

In truth, the exhaustion from traveling was now compounded by the fatigue from performing CPR. As for hunger—he suddenly realized that he hadn't eaten anything since morning, aside from a nutritionally worthless sandwich bought at the bus station.

"I think I've seen everything I needed to for today."

At least now, when he came in tomorrow, he wouldn't have to search for his office. He could spend the rest of the day getting some much-needed rest.

"I'll stay at the clinic a little longer. I need to be available by phone," Stacy explained. "But Brad will drive you back in my car."

"You're not afraid to entrust him with your car?" he asked, referring to what had happened just over an hour ago.

"Not at all. He's a professional race car driver. Or rather, he was…" She bit her tongue. Figuratively speaking, of course. This piqued Colin's curiosity, but not enough for him to ask further.

"Thank you, Miss Pierce, for the ride and for lending me your car. I'll see you tomorrow!"

She cheerfully waved goodbye, and he stepped outside the building, where Brad Lipski was leaning against Stacy's car as if he had absolutely nothing better to do. If he had a job, he must have taken the day off.

Not that it mattered to Colin. He had no intention of getting too familiar with this guy. Not because he particularly disliked him—rather, he had a feeling he might like him too much, and he didn't need that kind of complication in his life. Better to keep their interactions to a minimum.

"You can take me home now," he said. "And then, if you'd be so kind, maybe show me a decent restaurant nearby…"

"A restaurant? No way," Brad shook his head grimly. "There are three eateries in this town. Two are overpriced tourist traps, and the third is a health hazard. We can't risk having our only doctor poisoned with salmonella."

"I appreciate the concern, but I won't have time to cook, and besides, I don't know how…"

"Which is why our doctor will be eating home-cooked meals."

"Home-cooked?"

"Meals come with the lodging. No one told you that, Doctor?"

"Somehow, that detail was overlooked." And that did not bode well. Colin didn't exactly trust so-called "home cooking." Some homemakers he had known had terrible kitchen habits. He preferred restaurants, where at least, in theory, there were health inspections. But it looked like he wouldn't have much choice.

"Don't worry, we're great cooks."

We? The question flashed through his mind like lightning, but before he could dwell on it, they were already pulling up to a sizable two-story house, enclosed by a boxwood hedge. The house was far too big for just one person.

"And here we are," his driver informed him. "Your entrance is on the side. It's actually a separate part of the house that I added to the main building, so you have complete independence but also good access to the main part in case of heavy snowfall."

"This is your house?" Colin asked, though he wasn't sure why. Maybe because Brad didn't strike him as someone who lived in a well-kept, expensive-looking home—more like someone who considered roadside motels his home while on the road.

"Not exactly, but I take care of it. Let's just say I'm its temporary legal custodian. Come on, I'll show you around."

Colin grabbed his bag and reached for his suitcase, but Brad completely ignored him and didn't let go of it. He shut the trunk and walked toward the gate. Colin opened his mouth to protest but then closed it again and followed. This wasn't worth a petty argument over proving his masculinity.

He just grit his teeth and went after his handsome, but irritating landlord.