Carrie gave Presley a curious, concerned look. “Is there something wrong?”

“Is there anything right?”

“Maybe you should sit down.” Carrie patted the sofa. “There’s fresh coffee. And Lila baked bread.”

Presley caught herself just before she took Carrie up on her invitation. Carrie worked for her, and it wouldn’t do for her to know how conflicted she was about what they were doing here. Conflicted wasn’t exactly the right word. Ambivalent? No, not that either. She knew well enough what needed to be done. She was angry, furious, that the job had been foisted onto her for no other reason than Preston’s ploy for political advantage. Now she was going to disrupt the lives of a lot of good people so Preston could have room to maneuver while she was gone. How venal was that? How meaningless and petty compared to what Harper and Flannery and Edward Rivers did every day. She thought of Jimmy Reynolds, probably struggling right this moment to survive while his parents agonized. And what was her goal? To beat her brother at a game they’d been playing since birth in a hopeless attempt to win their parents’ approval? She didn’t have to play Preston’s game, but she did need to do her job. She had a responsibility to the shareholders, no matter what she might feel personally about the outcome for the people here.

“Tomorrow morning I want you to set up appointments with the three top-rated construction firms in the county. I want to see them this week to discuss bids, and I’ll need blueprints of the physical plant and the surveys when I meet with them.”

“All right,” Carrie said slowly. “I’ll have some other figures for you—”

“Fine. Bring me what you have after lunch tomorrow. I want to get the endgame in place. I don’t want to spend any more time here than I need to.”

“Of course,” Carrie said.

From her tone, Presley knew Carrie was bothered by something, but she didn’t have the emotional strength or patience to find out what it was. The best thing for both of them was to get the job done and get home.

“I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

“Have a good run,” Carrie said uncertainly.

“I intend to.” Presley banged through the front door and clambered down the steps to the drive. She jogged toward the road, surrounded by green waving stalks of corn that seemed taller overnight. She damned the beauty even as her heart leapt. Everything about the place drew her in, until she couldn’t escape the sweetness or the sorrow. She picked up her pace, determined not to be touched by either.

Chapter Twenty-four

Presley arrived at the hospital early every day for two weeks, well before anyone else arrived, and left after everyone else had gone home. She saw Carrie and no one else, carefully avoiding the clinical areas of the hospital. Harper hadn’t contacted her to accompany her on rounds or house calls, not that she’d expected her to. All well and good, and a reminder, one she shouldn’t have needed, that mixing personal and professional business was a very bad idea. Besides, she appreciated having more time to work and less time to be distracted by Harper and her patients, things she should’ve known better than to involve herself with to begin with.

The long hours paid off, and by mid-month, she’d digested most of the significant data, all of which had confirmed what she’d originally suspected. The patient base at the Rivers—she winced and caught herself—at ACH was poor and underinsured. Although the hospital census had remained relatively high throughout the last decade, revenues had declined, costs had risen, and no new sources of income had appeared to bridge the gap. Numbers never lied, no matter how much she wished they did.

“Carrie,” she said from the doorway of her office, “would you contact Dr. Rivers and ask him to meet with me before the end of the day.”

“Of course,” Carrie said.

Carrie had been keeping the same hours as Presley, although Presley hadn’t asked her to. She’d left early a few days for softball games, extending an invitation for Presley to join her. After the first few times Presley refused, Carrie stopped asking. Presley was grateful for Carrie’s perceptiveness.

“Oh,” Carrie said, “I’ve set up a second appointment for you on Monday with the contractor you liked. All the necessary schematics are on your computer already.”

“Thanks.”

“Just Edward Rivers?” Carrie asked.

“Yes. I don’t need to see anyone else.”

Carrie’s expression was neutral, but her eyes spoke volumes. She wasn’t happy, and ordinarily Presley would’ve asked her for her opinion, but right now, the last thing she needed was someone else distracting her from doing what had to be done.

“And book me a flight to Phoenix on Tuesday. Schedule a meeting with finance and Preston.”

“Which order?”

Presley considered. “Finance.”

“How long will you be gone?” Carrie asked.

“A few days. Book a return flight for Thursday, and we can always change it if need be.”

“All right.” Carrie hesitated. “By the way, I sent some other information you might find interesting.”

Presley paused. Carrie was too good an admin to ignore and, besides that, they were friends. “What other kind of information?”

“Population density in the county, patient-physician ratios, and the network—or I should say, lack of network—of urgent care facilities.”

“Are you trying to tell me something?” Presley tempered the bite in her voice that she was almost too tired to hide. Carrie was not to blame for her sleepless nights or her sore heart.

“I know in other locations SunView has tied new acquisitions into local networks. There doesn’t seem to be one here, but if there were, it would be a pipeline of patients to the hospital.”

“Yes, but as you say, there is no network.”

“I just thought you should have all the information.”

“Thanks, I’ll look at it but, Carrie…”

Carrie looked at her expectantly.

“Don’t get too…attached. Short term, remember?”

“Right. I know.”

Presley shut her office door behind her, sank into her chair, and closed her eyes. She hadn’t been sleeping well. Too damn quiet at night. She worked when she got home until her eyelids were closing, but that didn’t seem to help. When she finally fell asleep, she dreamed—restless dreams filled with frustration. Missed planes, doors that wouldn’t open, phones she couldn’t use. She awoke feeling frustrated, helpless, and—even more aggravatingly—aroused. Not the kind of arousal easily dismissed or sated by a few extra moments of attention, quickly forgotten. She couldn’t find her rhythm here, in this place where time flowed differently, and hoped that if she went back to Phoenix, she would find her balance again. Besides, she needed to make an appearance to remind everyone that she wasn’t going away, particularly Preston. A quick trip to update everyone on this project was a good excuse.

Work. That was what she needed to be thinking about. She reviewed what she intended to tell Edward Rivers. In the midst of her mental planning, she wondered how Jimmy Reynolds was doing. The thought, popping into her mind out of nowhere, was just another sign of how she’d carelessly let herself be caught up in things outside her domain. Harper was taking care of him, and that was all she needed to know.

Harper. How many times a day had she thought of her? Too many to count. She groaned under her breath. She had no one to blame but herself that she could still feel Harper’s hands on her, still taste her, still catch the scent of her skin on an errant breeze. Still want her.

She reminded herself daily that Harper was not the first woman she’d awakened with, not even the first one she’d wanted again, albeit briefly. Why then was Harper the first one she couldn’t forget? The first one she ached for.

“Enough,” she muttered, opening her eyes and pulling up her email, determined to put Harper out of her mind.

When Carrie rang her, it was after one thirty and she’d missed lunch again. She didn’t have much of an appetite. If Lila hadn’t left food, morning and night, that smelled too delicious for her to ignore, she probably would’ve lost twenty pounds by now instead of eight. “Yes?”

“The doctors are here.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Drs. Edward, Harper, and Flannery Rivers are here to see you.”

“I asked for Dr. Edward Rivers.”

“Yes, I have that ready for you,” Carrie ad-libbed. “I’ll be right there.”

Carrie let herself into Presley’s office and closed the door behind her.

“What’s going on?” Presley asked.

“Edward Rivers says that since Flannery is chief of surgery and Harper the assistant chief of staff, they should be here for anything pertaining to the hospital.”

“And if I don’t agree, I’ll appear to be uncooperative at best, or hiding things at worst,” Presley said stiffly. “Why not. Send in the Rivers contingent, by all means.”

She rose and pulled on her suit jacket, steeling herself to face Harper for the first time since she’d walked out of Harper’s bedroom. Edward entered first, with Harper and Flannery side by side behind him. Flannery, as usual, was in scrubs. Harper wore casual black pants, a gray shirt, and loafers. Her dark hair needed a trim, although Presley liked the roguish contrast to her otherwise conventional style. An inappropriate desire to ruffle the ends of hair drifting over her collar flickered through her mind, and she quickly quashed it.

“Doctors,” Presley said, looking away from Harper with effort. Shadows deepened her eyes to nearly black, and for an instant, Presley’s throat tightened with longing. She lifted her chin, smiled. “Thank you for making time in your busy schedules. I’ll try not to take up too much of your time.”