Page 36 of Love Me Sweet

Andrew supposed he and Sylvie should head home, too. But Sylvie seemed so relaxed and happy this evening he’d decided why rush off? It wasn’t as if he had anywhere to go.

Other than getting up at three am to drive into Jackson… He shoved the thought aside. If she wasn’t worried about the lack of sleep, he wouldn’t worry either.

“How are you enjoying your vacation?” Benedict Campbell dropped into a nearby chair that also faced the flickering flames of the fireplace.

Andrew looked up and took the bottle of beer his friend held out. He brought it to his lips and took a sip. “I’m not used to being idle.”

“It would drive me crazy.” Benedict grinned. “It would drive my father even crazier.”

Andrew smiled. He recalled Ben talking about his father, John, and thinking he and Franklin O’Shea had a lot in common. “My father can’t understand why I’m here and not spending these last few weeks in Tahiti.”

Ben inclined his head. “Last few weeks before what?”

“I’m going to be taking more of an active role in the company business.”

“Why?”

“Good question.”

“What about medicine?”

“It’ll go on the back burner.”

Before Andrew could say more, Mitzi sashayed over—that really was the only way to describe how she walked—and took a seat on the arm of Andrew’s chair.

“What’s this I hear about you offering to help out at Peoples?”

“If you need another doctor to fill in occasionally, I’m available.” Out of the corner of his eye, Andrew saw Sylvie wander over to stand by the hearth, a drink in her hand. “I know how crazy those first couple of weeks can be. It’s as if the floodgates have opened. The patient volume is difficult to predict but it’s usually way over what you anticipate. If that occurs, don’t hesitate to call me.”

A speculative gleam filled Mitzi’s eyes. “Sounds as if you’ve been involved in something like this before.”

“Similar, but ours were what we called pop-up clinics. The location of the clinics would vary. Most often we’d use church basements.” Andrew took a long drink from his beer. “We enlisted a lot of medical students to help out. Working the clinic gave them some good experience as well as showed the need that is out there.”

Andrew sensed Sylvie’s gaze on him but stayed focused on Mitzi.

“We had some of those kinds of clinics in the neighborhood where I grew up,” Mitzi said.

“I wished we’d had some of those around here when I was young.” Keenan, who’d just strode over with Poppy Campbell, positioned himself behind his wife. He rested his hands lightly on her shoulders and she leaned her head against his well-muscled tanned arm.

Andrew had thought the couple was so different, but he now questioned his assessment. It appeared Mitzi and Keenan had more in common than he’d first thought, at least in terms of early life experiences.

He wondered if Sylvie was looking at them and thinking it only confirmed she’d made the right decision to leave. After all, her early background and his couldn’t be more different.

“There is definitely a need here.” Poppy’s expression grew pensive. “Just like there was in New York City, when I lived there. Poverty is everywhere although often those with money and power like to pretend it doesn’t exist.”

“You’re a social worker.” Andrew hoped he’d gotten that correct. He’d met so many people since his arrival in Jackson Hole that who they were and their occupations had become somewhat of a jumbled mess in his head.

Poppy smiled. “That’s right. I work part-time for Teton County now. Once our baby is born—she’ll be our second--I’ll use my skills to help those who visit the Peoples Health Center on a volunteer basis.”

“My wife, the radical.” The teasing note in Ben’s voice surprised Andrew. He remembered Benedict Campbell well from prep school days. Andrew wasn’t certain if it was maturity or if Poppy deserved the credit for the change but his old friend was definitely mellower.

“Helping people in need shouldn’t be considered a radical concept.” Sylvie had wandered over to catch the last of Ben’s comment. She flushed when every eye turned in her direction. “It’s just the thing to do.”

Just the thing to do.

By the time they left the McGregor home the rain had stopped and the air held that clean, fresh scent of flowers and earth.

When Sylvie slipped, he grabbed her arm then tucked it through his for the rest of the walk home.

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