The Magnificent M.D. by Carol Grace Page A

back and see me next week. I need to check you out.”
    â€œI can’t pay you.”
    â€œDoesn’t matter.”
    The boy gave him a long, level look out of sad, dark eyes. And he knew if he ever had a son, he’d teach him to defend himself. He’d give him no reason to be picked on, to be called names. Though this kid hadn’t done too badly, it seemed.
    â€œHey,” Sam said as the kid turned to leave. “You like meat loaf sandwiches?”
    Roy shrugged, and Sam opened the basket and pulled one neatly wrapped sandwich out and gave it to him. He unwrapped it and looked at it suspiciously. Then he smelled it. Sam stifled a smile.
    â€œGo ahead, it won’t poison you,” Sam said.
    â€œYou make it?”
    â€œMe? No, I can’t cook,” Sam said. “A friend of mine made it.”
    The boy took a bite and chewed hungrily. Sam knew what it was like to feel the gnawing pangs of hunger. He wondered when the boy had eaten last. He looked too thin under his faded cotton shirt.
    â€œThanks,” Roy said, and he was gone as suddenly as he’d arrived. Before Sam could even ask where he lived.
    When Hayley came back Sam said, “You missed all the excitement. I had a patient.” When he told her who it was, she shook her head.
    â€œI used to know everyone in town,” she said. “Not anymore. I’m worried about him. No mother?”
    â€œDon’t worry. He can take care of himself.”
    â€œThe way you did?” she asked. She unpacked the supplies and put them on the shelves of the cabinet.
    â€œYou do what you have to do,” he said, and sat down to face his computer, hoping to end the conversation.
    â€œDid you have to run away that last night?” she asked.
    He felt the heat of anger rush through his body. He stared at the screen without seeing it. “You know the answer to that. I had to ‘run away’ as you put it, because the sheriff came looking for me.” The memories came charging back, the flashing lights on the sheriff’s car, running down the back streets to the highway, his head pounding from his injuries, catching a ride from a trucker to Portland with only the clothes on his back.
    â€œYou blame Grandpa for that, don’t you?”
    â€œWho else would have reported me?” he asked.
    â€œDon’t you understand?” she asked. “He had to. As a doctor you know the rules.”
    â€œThere are times when you have to bend the rules,” he said coldly. He’d never forgive them for what they did. She and her grandfather had robbed him of a chance to defend himself, the opportunity to graduate with his class and his reputation. Not that his reputation was much to speak of to begin with, but running was never his style. And they’d forced him to run.
    â€œHe bent the rules for you more than once,” she said, “but that time—”
    â€œThat time he thought I was to blame. He thought I’d started the fight. So did you, didn’t you? When it counted I couldn’t trust you.”
    â€œSam…”
    He turned to face her. She was leaning against the wall and gnawing on her lower lip. Her eyes were glistening. “Don’t cry for me, Hayley. It’s a little late for that.”
    â€œI—I’m not.”
    â€œJust forget it,” he ordered. “It was seventeen years ago. Everything turned out fine in the long run. I’d forgotten all about it. Until you walked into my office and reminded me.”
    â€œI’m sorry, but I think we need to talk about it, otherwise…”
    â€œOtherwise what? We don’t need to talk about it. We just did talk about it. We don’t need to talk any further. Your grandfather regretted what he’d done. He must have or he wouldn’t have paid my way through school. I’m here to repay my debt. Then we’ll be even and we can go on with our lives. Is that a deal?” he