“I’m sure there was more than one person who would’ve loved to come.” Presley smiled. “But no one who is as good as I am.”

Flannery liked confident women, especially sexy, smart, slightly hard-to-get confident women. “What exactly are you doing here?”

“I take it you haven’t talked to your sister yet.”

Flannery straightened. “Harper? What about her?”

“Nothing serious,” Presley said, surprised by Flannery’s instant protectiveness laced with suspicion. Seeing the two of them together earlier, she’d sensed they were competitive, but that wasn’t what she was reading now. Flannery looked ready to do battle. Presley tried to remember the last time Preston had ever been protective of her, and decided that would’ve been exactly never. Even as children they were adversaries, competing for their parents’ attention—when they were around—and jockeying for positions of favor with others. They’d never been friends, let alone allies.

“Her version of events may be slightly different than mine, but as I’m sure almost anyone in the hospital will be able to tell you within the next few hours, I’m here to spearhead the transition of the hospital into SunView Health Systems.”

“Something tells me Harper wasn’t happy to hear that.”

“Your sister impresses me as someone who doesn’t care for change.”

“Harper cares about this community, and especially this hospital, more than she cares about anything except family. If the change is a good one, she’ll be open to exploring it.”

“Well, I’m delighted to hear that. What about you? Are you flexible as well?”

“I like to think so.”

“Good. Then perhaps, if you are serious about showing me around, we can get together when you’re free. I don’t know much about the area and I’d like to.”

“How about dinner tonight?”

Presley hesitated. Dinner was a little more personal than she wanted to get with Flannery Rivers. She had more than enough experience to recognize interest from another woman, and she didn’t need the complication. “I’ve got a number of things to finish this evening. I’ll have to take a rain check.”

“Some other time, then.”

“Yes.”

“How about tomorrow afternoon, say three?”

“You can call me tomorrow in the medical staff office. I’ll let you know.”

Flannery stepped back as Presley slid into her car. “I’ll do that.”

*

Harper pulled in behind her father’s battered fifteen-year-old Ford Bronco and climbed up onto the back porch. Her father, still in his white shirt and dress trousers, sat in one of the trio of rocking chairs with a glass of iced tea in his hand. Behind him the door was open and the top twenty music countdown floated out through the screen from Margie’s bedroom. Harper sat next to him and for a moment said nothing as they rocked in time, watching the sunset spill over the mountains.

“How long did you know this was coming?” Harper finally asked.

“There’ve been hints of something in the works since the end-of-year financials came out.” Edward sipped his tea and continued to slowly rock, one foot flat on the wood porch, flexing and relaxing, propelling the chair back and forth. “Since I didn’t get a vote, I wasn’t kept up to date. I didn’t expect them to move quite so quickly.”

“And there’s nothing to be done about it?”

“Once the ink is dry, the deal is done, I imagine.”

“What do you think is coming?”

Edward looked at her solemnly. “I honestly don’t know, Harper.”

Harper clenched her jaw. Helplessness wasn’t a feeling she welcomed or was used to. Headlights flashed, and Flann’s Jeep pulled down the drive. A minute later, Flann dropped into the third chair.

“That roast beef I smell?” Flannery asked.

Their father glanced over at her. “It’s Thursday, isn’t it?”

Flannery grinned. “Roast beef or short ribs. Either one works for me.”

“I have to run by the Rivers later,” Harper said. “Do your postops need anything?”

Flannery shook her head. “They should both be fine. What do you have going?”

“I had to admit Charlie Carlyle. He’s got a rip-roaring cellulitis in his foot and I want to make sure he’s gotten his first dose of antibiotics tonight.”

“Uh-oh,” Flannery said. “I told you those toes were going to go.”

“If we can get ahead of it, he’ll keep his foot for a while longer,” Harper said.

“Good. Let me know if you want me to look at it.”

“I will.”

“I ran into the lady of the hour this afternoon,” Flannery said casually.

Harper tightened her grip on the arms of her chair. She wasn’t sure what bothered her the most, that Flann and Presley had connected again or just the reminder of what Presley’s presence here meant. “Oh?”

“Mmm-hmm. She mentioned she’d talked with you earlier and that she was in charge of the transition. Whatever that means.”

Edward said, “That appears to be the question of the hour.”

Flann’s grin flickered out. “Is there some kind of problem already?”

Edward shrugged. “It’s hard to say. From what little we know, it would appear that Ms. Worth can do just about anything she wants, and until we know what that is, we don’t have any say at all.”

“It’s just not the right way to do things,” Harper said. “This is our hospital, our patients who will be affected. If they’d let us know what was happening, we could have prepared for it. We could have apprised them of the community needs and shown them how vital the hospital is—not just for healthcare itself, but for jobs.”

“We don’t know that we won’t have an opportunity to do that,” her father said.

“Keeping us in the dark is just another form of showing us who’s the boss,” Harper said.

Flannery got up and poured herself an iced tea from the pitcher that sat on a table nearby. She poured a second glass and handed it to Harper. “I might be showing her around town tomorrow afternoon. Maybe I can work on her a little bit.”

Harper carefully balanced the glass on the flat wooden arm of her rocking chair. “Showing her around? So she took you up on your offer to be a tour guide?”

“Seems so.” Flannery grinned.

“You might be wise to remember she’s not here on a friendly mission.”

Flannery’s eyes darkened. “You don’t know that, Harp.”

“And you don’t know otherwise.” Harper rose, pulled open the screen door, and headed for the sanctuary of the kitchen before she took another poke at Flann. She had no reason to be angry with Flann and didn’t care to ask herself why she was.

Chapter Six

By the time Harper helped her mother and Margie wash up and stow the dishes, it was close to nine. She folded the dish towel, laid it over the towel rack, and opened the cabinet for the broom.

“Go on out to the porch and have a drink with your father and Flannery,” Ida said, taking the broom from her. “You’ve done enough cleaning for one night.”

“I’ve got to head back to the hospital in a few minutes,” Harper said. She’d carefully avoided talking about Presley Worth with Flann during dinner, but the subject was bound to come up again if they all started talking hospital business, which they surely would over drinks on the porch. She wasn’t even sure what was bothering her about Flann showing Presley around town. Flann might have a tendency to rush into situations without much thought to the consequences, but somehow things usually ended up all right in the end, mostly because Flann was too good-natured to hold grudges and always knew when to step away before things got too complicated. The trouble was, everything about Presley spelled complicated, right from the beginning. She wore power easily and was clearly used to being in control. No matter how attractive and intriguing she might be, she was someone whose interests might not be in line with theirs. Harper drew up short. Attractive and intriguing? Maybe Flann wasn’t the only one whose judgment was skewed.

“You and Flannery bashing heads over something?” Ida said.

“No,” Harper said too quickly, earning a raised brow from Ida. Harper grinned. “We’re good. Just different speeds, as usual.”

“How are things at the hospital?”

“I’m not sure yet. The new manager has arrived—a woman named Presley Worth.”

“What does she intend to manage?”

Harper braced her arms on the counter behind her and shook her head. “That’s the question I’d like answered.”

Ida patted her cheek. “You’re smart. You’ll figure it out.”

“I hope I do before it’s too late.”

Flann rounded the corner and headed for the refrigerator. “Too late for what?”

“Me to have a drink.” Harper pushed away from the counter and grabbed her jacket off the peg. “I’m headed to the Rivers.”

“Get some sleep,” Flann called after her.

Harper waved a hand and jumped into her Chevy pickup and five minutes later was headed up the hill to another place she thought of as home. The Rivers stood like a guardian above the town, its windows glowing golden against the night sky. The reception desk was empty, and only the echo of her footsteps kept her company as she walked through the deserted halls. She nodded to the night nurse on four as she checked on Charlie first. He was snoring softly, his ailing foot propped on a pillow. She flashed her penlight on the chart hanging at the foot of the bed. His temp was still elevated but hadn’t spiked. Good enough. She left quietly and took the stairs down to the surgical floor. Glenn Archer, a PA who often assisted Flann in the OR and covered the surgical floor at night, was at the desk.

“How’s it going?” Harper asked. She and Glenn, a rangy blue-eyed, sandy-haired ex-high school basketball star, had been in the same graduating class, but Glenn had opted for the Army right out of high school. After her enlistment was over, she’d come back to the village to live, having been trained as a medic.