Saved By Doctor Dreamy. Dianne DrakeЧитать онлайн книгу.
and come home either late Sunday night or early Monday morning, before I’m due back on this job.”
“But it’s in the jungle, Juliette. The jungle!”
“And it’s going to allow me to be involved with direct patient care again. I’m just hoping it’s enough to satisfy me.”
“Well, you can do whatever you want, but leave me here in the city, with all my conveniences.”
San José was a large city, not unlike any large city anywhere. Juliette’s transition here had been minimal as she really hadn’t had time to get out and explore much of anything. So maybe her first real venture out, into the jungle of all places, was a bit more than most people would like, but the only thing Juliette could see was an opportunity to be a practicing doctor again. A doctor by the name of Damien Caldwell had advertised and, come tomorrow, she was going to go knocking on his door.
* * *
“Could you get one of the volunteers to take the linens home and wash them?” Damien asked Alegria. The hospital’s sheets and pillowcases were a motley assortment, most everything coming as donations from the locals. “Oh, and instruct Rosalita on the particulars of a mechanical diet. I’m admitting Hector Araya later on, and he has difficulty chewing and swallowing since he had his stroke, so we need to adjust his diet accordingly.”
Back in Seattle, Damien’s workload never came close to anything having to do with linens and food but here in Bombacopsis, everything in the hospital fell under his direct supervision. This morning, for instance, during his one and only break for the day, he’d even found himself fluffing pillows and passing out cups of water to the five patients now admitted. He didn’t mind the extra work, actually. It was just all a part of the job here. But he wondered if having another trained medical staffer come in, at least part-time, would ease some of the burden. That was why, when he’d gone to Cima de la Montaña last week to mail his letter to Daniel, he’d found a computer and posted a help-wanted ad on one of the local public sites.
Low pay, or possibly no pay.
Lousy hours and hard work.
Nice patients desperately in need of more medical help.
That was all his ad said, other than where to find him. No phone service. Come in person.
OK, so it might not have been the most appealing of ads. But it was honest, as the last thing he wanted was to have someone make that long trek into the jungle only to discover that their expectations fell nowhere within the scope of the position he was offering.
“There’s a woman outside who says she wants to see you,” Alegria said as she rushed by him, her arms full of bedsheets, on her way to change the five beds with patients in them.
“Can’t one of the volunteers do that for you?” Damien asked her. “Or Dr. Perkins?”
“Dr. Perkins is off on a house call right now, and I have only two volunteers on today. One is cleaning the clinic, and the other is scrubbing potatoes for dinner. So it’s either you or me and, since the woman outside looks determined to get in, I think I’ll change the sheets and leave that woman up to you.”
“Fine,” Damien said, setting aside the chart he’d been writing in. “I’ll go see what she wants. Is she a local, by the way?”
Alegria shook her head. “She’s one of yours.”
“Mine?”
“From the United States, I think. Or maybe Canada. Couldn’t tell from her accent.”
So a woman, possibly from North America somewhere, had braved the jungle to come calling. At first he wondered if she was some kind of pharmaceutical rep who’d seen the word hospital attached to this place and actually thought she might find a sale here. As if he had the budget to go after the newest, and always the most expensive, drugs. Nah. He was totally off the radar for that. So, could it be Nancy? Was she running after him, trying to convince him to give up his frugal ways and come back to her?
Been there, done that one. Found out he couldn’t tolerate the snobs. And if there ever was a snob, it was his ex-fiancée.
“I’m Juliette Allen,” the voice behind him announced.
Damien spun around and encountered the most stunning brown eyes he’d ever seen in his life. “I’m Damien Caldwell,” he said, extending his hand to shake hers. “And I wasn’t expecting you.” But, whoever she was, he was glad she’d come. Tall, long auburn hair pulled back into a ponytail, ample curves, nice legs—nice everything. Yes, he was definitely glad.
“Your ad said to come in person, so here I am—in person.”
In person, and in very good form, he thought. “Then you’re applying for a position?” Frankly, she wasn’t what he’d expected. Rather, he’d expected someone like George Perkins, a doctor who was in the middle of a career burnout, trying to figure out what to do with the rest of his life.
“Only part-time. I can give you my weekends, if you need me.”
“Weekends are good. But what are you? I mean, am I hiring a nurse, a respiratory therapist or what?”
“A physician. I’m a family practice doctor. Directed a hospital practice back in Indiana.”
“But you’re here now, asking me for work?” From director of a hospital practice to this? It didn’t make sense. “And you only want a couple days a week?”
“That’s all I have free. The rest of my time goes to recruiting medical personnel to come to Costa Rica.”
Now it was beginning to make some sense. She aided one of the country’s fastest growing industries in her real life and wanted to be a do-gooder in her off time. Well, if the do-gooder had the skills, he’d take them for those two days. The rest of her time didn’t matter to him in the least. “You can provide references?” he asked, not that he cared much to have a look at them, but the question seemed like the right one to ask.
“Whatever you need to see.”
“And you understand the conditions here? And the fact that I might not have enough money left over in my budget to pay you all the time—or ever?”
“It’s not about the money.”
Yep. She was definitely a do-gooder. “So what’s it about, Juliette?”
“I like patient care, and I don’t get to do that in my current position. I guess you can say I’m just trying to get back to where I started.”
Well, that was as good a reason as any. And, in spite of himself, he liked her. Liked her no-nonsense attitude. “So, if I hire you, when can you start?”
“I’m here now, and I don’t have to be back at my other job until Monday. I packed a bag, just in case I stayed, so I’m ready to work whenever you want me to start.”
“How about now? I have some beds that need changing and a nurse who’s doing that but who has other things to do. So, can you change a bed, Juliette?”
COULD SHE CHANGE a bed? Sad to say, she hadn’t made very many beds in her life. Back home, she and her dad had a housekeeper who did that for them. Twice a week, fresh sheets on every bed in the house, whether or not the bed had been slept on. At her dad’s insistence. Oh, and brand-new linens ordered from the finest catalogs once every few months.
That was her life then, all of it courtesy of a very generous and doting father, and she’d found nothing extraordinary about it as it had been everything she’d grown used to. Her dad had always told her it was his duty to spoil her, and she’d believed that. Now, today, living in San José, and in keeping with what she was accustomed to, she and Cynthia rented a flat that came with limited maid service. It cost them more to secure that particular amenity in