CHAPTER FOUR
Gabe stared athis phone long after the call had ended, the anonymous voice still echoing in his mind.Like one call from the mechanically distorted caller wasn’t enough, a second one was the icing on his lousy day.Like he needed another reminder of California, of Stanford, of the day that had nearly destroyed his career—and had destroyed someone else’s life.His hand trembled slightly as he set the cell phone face-down on his desk.
The World Health Organization’s offer sat in his email inbox, promising a fresh start, a chance to make a difference on a global scale.It was the opportunity of a lifetime, something he’d only dreamed about.It was a prestigious honor, but timing couldn’t be worse.With these phone calls, the reminders of a past he’d rather forget popping up, he wondered if he was making a mistake.When he’d first moved to Shiloh Springs, he’d been looking for a fresh start, trying to leave Stanford behind.But running away hadn’t worked the first time.What made him think it would work now?
A gentle knock at his office door pulled him from his thoughts.“Dr.Summers?Your two o’clock is here.”
“Thank you, Lisa.Send him in.”Gabe straightened his white coat, grateful for the distraction of routine patient care.But when Douglas Boudreau walked through the door, Gabe felt the weight of another secret pressing down on him.Not just the past in California, but the fact that he and Nica eloped, making this man—this patient—his father-in-law without Douglas even knowing it.
“How’re you doing today, Doc?”Douglas’ familiar drawl carried the warmth of Shiloh Springs with it, so different from the sterile halls of Stanford.He’d come to love this small Texas town, so filled with charming folks who always made him feel welcome.A part of a community, something he hadn’t realized he’d missed.
Gabe attempted a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.“Actually, Douglas, if you have a few extra minutes today, I’d like to talk to you about something.”
Douglas settled into the chair, his weathered face immediately reflecting concern.“What seems to be bothering you, Gabe?And don’t you be worrying about me, I’m fine.You wanna talk, I’ve got all the time you need.”
“I—it’s something that’s been bothering me for a bit,” Gabe said quickly, then paused.“This is about something that happened before I came here.”He took a deep breath.“I’ve been receiving calls, threatening ones, about a case from my time at Stanford.”
The words began to flow, first hesitantly, then in a rush.Gabe told Douglas everything—about the surgery that went so horribly wrong, about the investigation by the medical board.The discovery he’d been drugged, about the medical licensing board that cleared him of wrongdoing but couldn’t clear his conscience or his guilt.His voice grew hoarse as he described the other doctor’s suicide, the weight of two lost lives bearing down on him.
“I was impaired during surgery,” Gabe admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.“I made mistakes I never would have made otherwise.The patient died on my table, Douglas.And even though I didn’t knowingly take anything, the police a witness Dr.Richardson had slipped me ketamine…” He shook his head.“I should have noticed something was wrong.I should have stopped.”
Douglas leaned forward in his chair, his eyes fixed on Gabe with an intensity that made him want to look away.But he forced himself to meet the older man’s steadfast gaze.
“Son,” Douglas said, and Gabe’s heart clenched at the word, “you were the victim of a crime.A terrible one that had tragic consequences, but you were not the one who committed it.”
“But—”
“No buts.”Douglas’s voice was firm but gentle.“You’re taking the blame for something that was done to you.This Dr.Richardson knew he was putting not only a patient’s life in danger, but your own.I’ve heard about ketamine, who hasn’t if they’ve read a newspaper.It’s sometimes used on the ranch with the large animals.Human symptoms include dizziness, double vision, confusion.It’s a powerful drug, and you’re lucky you didn’t die along with your patient.I don’t think anybody could think it was your fault.If you’d known before you walked through those doors into surgery, would you have stopped the procedure?”
“Of course.I’ve questioned myself every day, wondering how things would have been different if I had known Dr.Richardson resented me so much that he’d do something that endangered a patient.It’s one thing to want me discredited, to see my license pulled.But he went too far, and it cost a life.”
“Sounds like the guilt got to him, since you said he killed himself.”
Gabe nodded, picking up the letter opener off his desk and turning it over and over in his hands.“I carry the guilt of those two deaths on my conscience, Douglas.If I’d seen how Richardson was spiraling, maybe I could have done something—”
“Can’t dwell on the maybes, the would haves, or should haves.I’m not saying you have to let it go, even if that would be the best thing.I’m saying you need to come to terms with what happened and learn to live with it.Use it to always make better choices, better decisions.And I think you have, because you’re here.Doing good work.Helping people.Saving lives.”
“I care about the people in this town.I want to make a difference.Help bring good, solid medical care to everyone in Shiloh Springs.”
“Never doubt you’ve brought something special to Shiloh Springs, Gabe.You had some big shoes to fill when Doc Jenkins retired—”
“Wait, he’s retired?”Gabe teased, easing the tension a bit more.Everybody in town knew that while Gabe now ran the town’s clinic and unofficially handled patients at the county’s small hospital, Doctor Jenkins still popped around.Still saw patients, made a few house calls.Claimed he only wanted to visit with folks, but he still ended up seeing a patient or two.
“Welcome to life in a small town.Us old guys never really retire.We might slow down, but it’s not in our nature to stop.”Douglas chuckled.“I’m as guilty as Doc Jenkins.I turned the company over to my son, but I still end up at the job sites—yeah, yeah, before you grumble, I know I’m supposed to stay away, but knowing it and doing it…they’re two different things.”
Gabe shook his head.He’d run into that sentiment among the older folks in Shiloh Springs.Seemed like there was no such thing as retirement.Which honestly was a good thing for most people, because it kept them going, kept them strong, and gave them something to focus on.Something to keep them getting out of bed in the morning.
“The way you’ve modernized our little clinic, dealing with patients at the hospital, the care you show every patient who walks through that door—that’s who you really are.Not whatever story you’ve been telling yourself about California.”Douglas leaned back in his chair.“We’ve all made mistakes, done things we can’t change, and that includes me.I think you’ve paid a heavy price for yours.Sounds like you’re still paying.I know it’s hard to let go of the guilt.That’s part of being human.I’m not saying you’ll ever forget, but you need to forgive yourself.”
Gabe felt something loosen in his chest, a knot he’d been carrying for so long he’d forgotten it was there.“These calls, though…someone blames me.Maybe they’re right to.”
“They’re not,” Douglas said simply.“And anyone who’d torment you anonymously instead of facing you directly isn’t worth losing sleep over.”He stood, placing a hand on Gabe’s shoulder.“You’re one of us now, Doc.Don’t let anyone make you forget that.”
Looking up at Douglas—this man who didn’t even know he was family yet—Gabe felt more at home than he ever had at Stanford.Maybe that was the answer.Not running away to WHO, but standing his ground here in Shiloh Springs, facing whatever came next with the support of people who believed in him.
“Thank you,” Gabe said softly.“For listening.For understanding.”
“Anytime, son,” Douglas replied.“Now, how about we get to that checkup?Unless you’ve got any other life-changing confessions to make?”
