Free Family Practice by Marisa Carroll Page A

accept it, though.”
    “That’s what everyone says.”
    He cocked his head and regarded her with unblinking eyes. “Not sure you’d be advancing your career sailing around the Med for two years in a floating hotel?”
    More as if she wasn’t sure she could handle the responsibility alone; she hadn’t done such a great job with the clinic or with her family. Not that she’d admit that to him. She took the opening gratefully. “Possibly. I’m not sure overseeing the aches and pains of overweight, overindulged and overfed tourists is what I put myself through eleven years of medical school for.”
    “Ouch,” he said. “Pretty much sums up what I’ve been doing since I got to White Pine Lake?”
    “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” Callie hadn’t meant to sound so condescending and dismissive. She was only trying to protect herself. She, too, had trained for this kind of a family practice; if not in White Pine Lake, then somewhere else. Was that why she hadn’t jumped at the cruise-line offer the moment her application was accepted? Was that what she really wanted—a rootless, uncommitted lifestyle that didn’t put her skills to the test?
    She chose her next words with care. “It isn’t the same at all. What you do here at the clinic is completely different. You treat the whole individual and build a rapport with them and do your best to help them live a long and healthy life.”
    “Apology accepted.” His expression was set, though. He didn’t look as if he’d forgiven her tactlessness.
    “Would you care for another cup of coffee?” she asked to change the subject.
    “Thanks,” he said, standing up, making her even more aware of how completely he dominated the space around him. “I’ll get it myself. Stay sitting.” He took his time pouring a mug from the French press coffeemaker he’d helped her carry in that first night.
    She’d done it again, said something to put them both on edge. What was it about the man? She could usually get along with almost anyone. And she couldn’t blame it solely on his alpha-male tendencies. Being an alpha personality was practically a prerequisite in the medical profession.
    She found she was staring and decided it would be best to concentrate on something besides the way he moved, all harnessed strength and quiet efficiency. She gazed out the window. A couple of middle-aged guys in a high-end bass boat were casting lures just a few yards from the tethered wooden raft she’d played on as a kid. She wondered if Ginger let Becca and Brandon play on it as she had back in the day. Ginger didn’t seem like a helicopter parent who would consider jumping off an anchored wooden raft too dangerous, but Callie wasn’t sure.
    As she watched out the window, two hummingbirds arrived simultaneously to argue over possession of the feeder she’d hung from a hook above the porch railing, swooping and dive-bombing each other. It amazed her how much noise the tiny birds could make. The sound of their wings was the buzzing of a hundred bees. They chattered like angry little squirrels as each of the two females attempted to gain control of the feeder for herself.
    “Want a refill?” Zach asked, returning to the table. The movement behind the glass startled the hummers and they took off for the pine trees down the shore, continuing their rivalry in an aerial dogfight that would have impressed a WWI flying ace.
    “Thanks, no. I’ve had two. That’s enough for me.”
    “Suit yourself.” He was wearing shorts and a T-shirt, not khaki colored today, but a warm coppery shade that picked up the highlights of the same hue in his blond hair and the day-old stubble of beard on his chin. A faded scar sliced across his left calf.
    Callie suppressed a shiver. The scar came from a bullet wound. She’d seen enough of them working her emergency-medicine rotation. Was that the source of the Purple Heart listed on his service record? She’d come across his résumé while making