Page 39 of Silent Deception
“I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.” Kristin rolled her eyes. “He not only dislikes me personally, but I’m sure he thinks a PA is second-best. Fortunately, I’ve got the cardiologist’s report and recommendations here. That’s what the doctor would have discussed with him, anyway.”
“Good luck. From what I hear, the guy is quite a piece of work. Down at the barbershop, the guys were saying something about favors and bribes—they even implied he has cronies in the local bank and has been able to influence the outcome of loan applications.”
She didn’t doubt it for a minute. “Really.”
“One old guy warned me to watch out, because Clint is very bitter about the homesteading program. But what’s he going to do? My loan went through, and—”
The front door of the clinic opened with a tinkling of bells, and the man himself walked in, his face a grim mask. Dressed in a perfectly tailored dark suit, crisp white shirt, and dark burgundy tie, he looked more ready for a senate committee meeting than a small-town clinic, where the staff wore jeans and running shoes with their uniform tops.
“I hope the doctor’s ready because I don’t have time to wait,” he announced, looking past Kristin to Max.
“The doctor isn’t actually here yet. She’s delivering a baby in San Antonio,” Kristin said. “I have your reports from the cardiologist, though. I can go over them with you and get you set up with the correct prescriptions.”
He halted halfway across the waiting room, his jaw working. “I made an appointment with the doctor, and that’s who I expect to see.”
“She should be here within a few hours. Otherwise, if you want to reschedule she won’t be back here for two weeks.” Kristin turned to that page in the appointment book. “That’s the twenty-fourth of September.”
“Forget it, then.” He turned on his heel to leave.
“No—wait,” she insisted. “You need to hear what’s in the report, and you need to be on the recommended prescriptions. The cardiologist’s notes are adamant.”
He wavered.
“Please. Just come on back. It will only take a few minutes.” Thankful the waiting room was empty, she added, “He believes you’re at high risk for a heart attack. This appointment isn’t something you should put off.”
Muttering something that was probably a curse, Clint gestured sharply. “Fine,” he snapped. “Let’s get this over with.”
Kristin led him into the doctor’s private office, figuring he’d be more comfortable there. She waved him toward a chair and took a seat behind the desk, where she withdrew the new cardiology reports from Clint’s medical folder. “Your records from San Antonio show that you’ve had long-standing heart failure. You were put on Atenolol, Lipitor, and a beta-blocker. The doctor wanted you to come in every two months so he could check your blood pressure and heart. The letter he sent us says he hasn’t seen you in over a year.”
Clearly bored, Clint picked at an imaginary piece of lint on his sleeve.
“Your cholesterol is now at 345, your triglycerides are over 400. In addition, your new EKG shows that your heart failure is getting worse. I imagine you find yourself out of breath climbing stairs and that there’s increased swelling in your ankles.”
When he didn’t respond, she read the cardiologist’s report aloud. “He wants you to have some heart tests, the sooner the better, and he wants you to make an appointment with him—or your former cardiologist.”
She slid a referral slip across the desk. “I’ve sent the orders to the pharmacy in town, so you just need to pick them up. I’d suggest you do it today. Any questions?”
He reluctantly grabbed the slip and stuffed it in his suit pocket as he stood.
“Look,” she said, fighting to keep her voice level. “I know we have a history. I know you don’t like me, and that’s okay. But you need to follow through on this for the sake of your family—if you want to be around for them.”
That must have hit a chord, because he flashed her a look of pure venom. “I hear you were at the ranch last week.”
“Twice, actually.”
“Then you really don’t listen very well. I told you to stay away from my family. You weren’t good enough for my son before, and none of that has changed. You hear?”
She reined in a flash of temper. “Not good enough?”
“Think of the tabloids,” he scoffed. “The way they’ve trashed some of the more free-spirited presidential brothers over the years.”
“You placed more importance on some sleazy journalism than on your own son’shappiness?”
“My son, married to the daughter of a ne’er-do-well? A man who went bankrupt and couldn’t keep a job? The political damage would’ve been immeasurable, and it would’ve embarrassed this entire family.”
“My father might’ve tipped a few with his friends, but he had firm limits and he was no alcoholic. And it wasn’t his fault that the drought hit or that cattle prices fell. A lot of people in the area suffered.”
“Buttheyweren’t trying to weasel into my family.”
