The Magnificent M.D. by Carol Grace

to her, not the clumsy way they’d almost done it as randy teenagers,but as mature adults—mature adults who had unfinished business between them. His heart rate sped up just thinking about his lost opportunity last night.
    How far was she willing to go with him? How far was he willing to go with her before he had to tell her there was no future for them? Hell, she knew that. She knew that better than anyone. He wouldn’t even have to explain it. He didn’t believe in love or marriage. The reasons were obvious. He’d been a loner all his life. First out of necessity, then out of choice.
    But she was special. The only person in the world who’d known him then and now. He steered clear of relationships, of messy entanglements. But this wouldn’t need to be messy. It would have a beginning and an end. The beginning would be tonight. The end would be in six months. She appeared to like him. God knew why, with his temperament. And was still attracted to him, if last night was any indication.
    As for him, he was attracted to her, even more than he’d been when he was a lust-filled teenager. He thought about her; he couldn’t stop. He fantasized about making love to her. He didn’t want to stop fantasizing. It was harmless, or was it? She’d metamorphosed from a pretty, spoiled rich girl with a weakness for the town bad boy into a beautiful, sensitive, capable woman with a weakness for kids and her town and for him, too. At least he thought so. He had to find out.

Six
    A few minutes later the bell over the door rang, and he went to the front office to see a young boy standing there, black eye, bloody nose, dirty shirt and torn pants.
    â€œWhere’s the doctor?” the boy asked.
    â€œI’m the doctor,” Sam said.
    â€œWhere’s the old guy?”
    â€œHe died. What happened to you?” Sam asked, putting his hand on the boy’s shoulder and leading him into the examining room.
    â€œGot in a fight,” he said.
    â€œUh-huh.” Sam took his dirty shirt off, then his ripped pants, cleaned him up and did a quick checkup before he bandaged his cuts. He didn’t wince or complain. Sam admired that.
    â€œHow old are you?”
    â€œTwelve and a half.”
    â€œWho started it?”
    â€œThey did. They said I was a… They called me names,” the kid said, his lip swollen and his mouth twisted into a frown. Sam nodded. It all came back to him. The insults.
    Your mother’s a whore.
    Your pa’s a drunk.
    Trailer trash.
    The schoolyard fights. Only he’d never had the nerve to walk into the doctor’s office like that. It was Hayley who’d brought him in, more than once. Dragged him in. Under duress. It was her grandfather who’d patched him up. Who’d asked him the same questions he was asking now.
    â€œWhere’re your parents?”
    â€œMy mom’s at work.”
    The way he shifted his gaze told Sam the kid was lying. Just as he himself might have lied to Doc Bancroft. Maybe the boy’s mother was passed out on the couch after a night in the bar, or maybe she’d taken off, leaving him alone in a travel trailer on the edge of town. Both scenarios were familiar to Sam.
    â€œHave her call me,” he said, handing the dirty shirt back to the boy.
    â€œWhy?” he asked, struggling into his jeans. “She ain’t got no money to pay you.”
    â€œThat’s okay. I just want to tell her to change your bandages,” Sam said, handing him a tube of disinfectant and a package of bandages.
    â€œI can do it myself.”
    â€œSure you can,” Sam said. Sam patted him on the back even though he knew it embarrassed him. It was just an impulse. One he instantly regretted when he saw the boy’s eyes widen in alarm. “What’s your name?” Sam asked.
    â€œRoy.”
    â€œDon’t fight anymore, Roy,” he said. Oh, that was helpful. That ought to do it. “Come