The Ranch

“That's exactly what happened to my cousin. All you can do is make her as comfortable as possible, let her do what she wants, and be there if she needs you.” His saying that reminded Tanya that she had forgotten to tell Gordon she was taking Zoe's baby eventually. She wanted him to know, for a variety of reasons. And she wanted to see his reaction. She couldn't believe that she was actually testing the waters for a future with him after three days, but if it was even a remote possibility for some later date, she wanted to know how he would react to a number of things, and one of them was Zoe's baby.

Hartley walked them up to lunch, and the three of them talked endlessly about Zoe, her health, her career, her clinic, her child, her future, her brilliant mind, her enormous devotion to mankind. They went on endlessly about her, and the subject of their admiration and sympathy was sitting in her bedroom, thinking. She knew she had to call Sam, but she was stalling about it. She needed to ask him if he'd cover for her for a few more days, but she was afraid he'd hear something more in her voice, and she wanted to keep it from him. But while she sat mulling over what to do, and whether she should just leave a message for him, the phone rang, and it was providence, because Sam was calling her to ask her advice about a patient. She needed a major change in medication, and Sam wanted to be sure he was doing what Zoe wanted. He was actually surprised to find her in her room, he was planning to leave a message, but thought he'd check first, just in case she was there for a minute.

“I'm glad I caught you,” he said, sounding pleased and then asked her the question, and she gave him the answer. She was happy that he'd asked, so many other people didn't give the primary physician that courtesy to make the decision.

“I really appreciate your asking me,” she told him. It was why she liked having him cover for her instead of other people. Other relief doctors had screwed up many of her patients while she was gone, and never even bothered to tell her.

“Thanks for saying that,” he said. He sounded busy and happy, and he said he was taking a rare lunch break. “You don't get fat around here, I'll say that much. I haven't run this hard since med school.” In the past he had covered for her at night, or an afternoon, so she could go to dinner, or the theater, or have a glass of wine without worrying about it at a social event. This was the first time he'd done a whole week for her, and he loved it. “You run a great show here,” he said admiringly, “and all your patients love you. It's mighty hard to live up to.”

“They're probably not even asking for me by now.” She smiled. “They're all going to come in asking for Dr. Warner.”

“I should be so lucky.” And as he listened to her, he thought she sounded a little strange, as if she was tired or in bed or had just woken up, or been crying, and it suddenly struck him as odd, and he asked her about it. It was just an instinct, and she was so startled to be asked if she was really all right or upset about something that it silenced her for a moment, and then she started crying again, and couldn't answer. And he heard that too, and suddenly in his head, there were alarm bells.

“Did something happen to one of your friends?” he asked her gently. “Or to you?” He was an extraordinarily intuitive person and that scared her.

“No, no, they're fine,” she said, and then realized she had to ask him about the following week while she had him on the phone, and she decided to try it. “Actually, I was going to call you anyway. We're having such a good time that I was wondering if…” She faltered and pressed onward all in the same breath, hoping he wouldn't notice“… if you could maybe do another week for me, possibly less. But at worst, I'd come home a week from Sunday. I wasn't sure if you were free, or how you felt about it, and I wanted to ask you.”

“I'd love it,” he said quietly, but he had listened to every intonation in her voice and he was convinced she was crying. “But something's wrong, and I want to know what it is so I can help you.”

“Really nothing,” she continued to lie to him. “But can you do another week at the clinic?”

“I told you I would. No problem. But that's not the issue. Zoe, what's wrong? There's always a piece of the puzzle you don't show me. Why are you hiding? What's wrong, baby… I can hear you crying… please don't shut me out… I want to help you.” He was almost crying too, and at her end she was sobbing.

“I can't, Sam… please don't ask me…”