I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t trying to help heal someone or something. As a little girl on my family’s dairy farm, I made it my mission to help my father with the care of the animals. Such was my dedication that when I found a baby bird that fell out of its nest, I took great pains to nurse it to health and see that it was able to care for itself before I set it free.
Originally, I was determined to heal others the old-fashioned way, with herbs and energy work. I’d read plenty of how-to books on the subject and even taken a few online courses. When I left the farm as soon as I graduated high school and moved to find my way in the nearby city of Winchester, Virginia. I even went as far as to open my own holistic practice.
It was when I attended a six-week course through the local college’s community education program on herbal remedies that I decided that it was okay to integrate herbal and energy healing with modern medicine. I really didn’t need the course. I’d poured myself into that world for so many years that there was very little in the line of herbal remedies or reiki energy work left for me to learn. I just enjoyed taking the classes and mixing with likeminded people who got a kick out of exchanging herbal remedy recipes and reiki sessions.
Dr. Peter Thomason was the instructor of this class. I didn’t know for sure, but I guessed him to be in his early thirties. He was not only full of excitement for life, but I found him incredibly handsome and charismatic. It was more than his looks; which, in themselves, were enough to mesmerize any healthy, red-blooded female. I couldn’t imagine anyone being able to resist his royal blue eyes that were made to look even bluer by the thick black lashes that framed them and his sun-bronzed skin as a background. He had a full head of shoulder length hair that was almost ebony black with hints of sunlight running through it. They were more prominent in the out of doors than under the florescent lights of the classroom. He wore his generous head of hair pulled back in an old-fashioned queue for most of the classes, but there were a few times when he simply let it fall wildly about. When he did, it framed his high cheek bones and square jaw in such a way as to make me wish it was my arms wrapped so possessively around such beauty instead of that hair. I would sit in the back of the room and revel in the sight of the lean, muscular physique that I was sure existed beneath his baggy linen shirt and pants.
On the few occasions when I was near enough, the pheromones he emitted practically drove me to the point that I needed to either leave the room or jump his bones; which was saying a lot because I was still a virgin. Since we were in a classroom with other students- and, even if we were alone, I was too inexperienced to know how to lure him into taking me right there on his desk- I opted to leave the room. I’d visit the ladies room for a splash of cool water on my face and a good one-on-one scolding between me and my reflection in the mirror.
He’d recently arrived from a tour with Doctors Without Borders in Africa, which was where he got that memorable tan. More than once, he’d share a tale or two of what it was like for him to treat those in need with both herbs and modern medicine. It was through his stories that I concluded that both had their place, and both had their value. It soon became clear to me that by combining the two, I’d be able to heal a lot more efficiently and effectively. By the time the six-week course was over, I was looking at colleges to attend for my medical degree.
Sadly, Dr. Thomason was scheduled to go on yet another tour with Doctors Without Borders shortly after the course ended, but I managed to convince him to have coffee with me to discuss my plans to go to medical school before we said our good-byes. Admittedly, I would have preferred our conversation between the sheets after a ridiculously long marathon of love making instead of at Starbucks while drinking a latte and eating a cheese Danish, but no matter. The meeting with the oh so handsome Dr. Peter Thomason, die-hard good Samaritan, was so intense and profound that it solidified my determination to become a medical doctor.
That was twelve years ago.
With my residency behind me, and a medical license finally in my grasp, life became a whirlwind of busy and full, but there were still times when I had a few moments of quiet to reflect on things that a vision of the handsome Dr. Peter Thomason popped into my mind and I wondered what good deeds he was doing and what third world was he doing them in.
As for what was happening with me in my world… I’d accepted a position as the town physician in a small community, called Wolf Junction, in the hills of West Virginia, not far from Mechanicsville. It wasn’t that I didn’t have opportunities to join the staff at a few prestigious hospitals. I’d even been offered a position at a couple of holistic clinics that specialized in using both traditional and alternative medicine when dealing with illnesses such as cancer. I was seriously considering one particular clinic in Phoenix when I learned of the position as town doctor in Wolf Junction. At first, I paid it little mind. After all, I may have been a newly licensed physician, but, not only was I top in my class, I was also highly knowledgeable in herbal and energy medicine. The idea of the freedom being a town doctor would offer over that of a clinic with its hierarchy and rules was alluring. I’d done my residency in a big city hospital with its mega rules, regulations, and jealous competitiveness amongst peers. Being able to work on my own and call the shots was definitely appealing. When I read the report on the recent outbreak of death by mysterious causes, I was sold. The idea of being the physician to discover the illness that was killing a goodly number of Wolf Junction residents when others were stumped was far too alluring. I just had to accept the offer. Besides, it would also provide me the freedom I so valued when it came to integrating alternative and traditional medicine. The depths of the Blue Ridge Mountains weren’t exactly third world, but society in small towns tended to be less progressive than most of the country. It was as close to third world as I was going to get.
So, with my medical degree and license proudly in hand, I packed my bags and headed off to Wolf Junction and my new life as Dr. Vickie Anderson, the town physician.
Little did I know what I was getting myself in for.
Wolf Junction may not have been as advanced both socially and economically as the rest of the country, but it was filled with history. To me, this made up for a lot.The home I’d rented was an enormous Victorian style house with a gorgeous wrap around porch. It was far too large for one person, but it had a two-room office set up with a space to act as the waiting room and its own entrance. I was of the frame of mind that having my office under the same roof where I lived would reduce my overhead. After all, I’d built up a considerable amount of debt putting myself through school. Fortunately, my holistic care skills paid for most of my living expenses during my years of education, but there was still the loan for the actual cost of schooling looming over me. As luck would have it, the place came partially furnished. So, I lived in a one-hundred plus year old house that was the size of a mini-hotel with enough
Angela McGraw was a few years older than me, but not by much. We looked to be about the same size too, but that’s where the similarities ended. Where my hair was sleek and dark, and my skin fair and unblemished, she sported a coppery head of wiry curls and flesh so peppered with freckles that it was impossible to count them. As my eyes traced them to the collar of her pale blue cotton blouse, I had to fight the urge to ask if they continued onto her back and chest. I guessed they did, but that was just a guess. I envied her those striking green eyes. Mine were such a common brown. I noticed that they resembled rich emerald when she spoke passionately on a subject; which was often.She’d been working as the county’s traveling social worker for five years. It was easy to tell that she loved her job by the way she lost herself into conversing about it whenever the opportunity arose.She was less outgoing and gene
Life was going so well that I’d completely forgotten about the fact that I’d taken the job with the intention of being the savior who discovered what was causing so many deaths. It was probably because there had been no deaths since my arrival. That changed on the anniversary of my fifth month in town.It was a Wednesday evening. It had been a particularly grueling day with difficult and uncooperative patients. Old man Smithson’s gout was acting up again and, of course, he had to argue with me as to what diet worked best to prevent the gout that was returning more and more frequently. Grannie Oleson had yet another asthma attack. As hard as I tried to convince her that she was allergic to the twelve cats she owned, I got nowhere. So, I simply treated her with herbs to help keep her passageways as clear as could be expected under the circumstances and wrote a prescription for an inhaler that Iwas certain she’d
I’d had no call to be around Zacharias Bolt before Jacob’s death. I thought it unfortunate that I found him to be a bit odd, since his was the only funeral home for several towns and I was the recently appointed official county medical examiner.Zacharias’ family had been in stiff competition with the Crowley family for the funeral business of the area for several generations. This, along with an over-abundance of fumes from embalming chemicals were surely what lend to his unlikeable personality. The smirk on his narrow and pinched face when he inspected the remnants of the Crowley morgue while delivering Jacob’s corpse to me was an immediate indication as to the person I’d be dealing with. He wasted no time comparing his state of the art set up to my pathetic -yes, he used the word ‘pathetic’- and antiquated one while speculating on the poor workmanship that surely was produced as a result.He clearly had no
I’d spent far too much time over lunch with Angela and Peter. By the time I got back home, it was almost four o’clock. There was no sense in starting the autopsy when I’d have to man my office for walk-ins from six pm until eight pm.I checked my calendar for the next day and saw that it was full. That left me no choice. I’d have to perform the autopsy after I closed the office at eight that evening. Since I’d had minimal sleep the night before because of a guilty conscience over my lustful actions in the presence of a dead man after working well into the night taking an inventory and moving a few things around in the morgue, I’d been looking forward to a decent night’s sleep. Hopefully I could discover what killed Jacob quickly and that would still happen.I decided to relax until it was time to run my office, so I fixed myself a cup of hot tea, grabbed the mystery I’d started a few da
With less than an hour before I had to open the office for potential walk-in patients, I decided to make a quick run to the grocery store for a few incidentals that I was about to run out of. I was debating about buying Folgers coffee or a new organic Hawaiian blend when the handsome Dr. Thomason came up behind me.“I’d go for the Folgers,” he said in the most intimate fashion imaginable into my left ear.I could feel his breath on the back of my head as my body tingled from head to toe. “I’ve always liked Folgers, but it’s not organic.”“I’d be careful with organic if I were you,” he offered. “That one’s fine because it comes from the United States and we have strict regulations, but a lot of the organic food comes from countries without laws to protect you. Organic to them isn’t always organic as we see it. You’re safer with American grown, even if it&rs
In the two hours that the office was opened for walk-in business I saw one sprained wrist that was acquired at an after-school sporting event and one ear infection. In between them I sat and chatted about anything and everything with Peter. I found him super easy to relax around.Evelyn arrived around ten minutes after eight. Peter asked to assist me with her foot infection and, since Evelyn had no objections, I accepted his help. I listened and observed as Peter peppered her with a myriad of questions that I would have never thought to ask. Little by little he rooted out of her tight-lipped persona that she kicked her shoes off immediately upon getting home and didn’t put them back on until she was required to for work. There are many people who don’t wear shoes at home, so that, in itself, wasn’t the issue. The issue was the fact that she lived in a communal environment with dirt floors and an outhouse. This meant that, even t
It was well after midnight before Max was satisfied that he’d checked all he could for a clue as to who stole the body enough to depart. I was exhausted. In fact, I was so exhausted that when Peter said that he should probably call a cab to take him to his hotel instead of imposing on me to drive him there, I almost agreed. Instead, I suggested that he stay in one of the many rooms my house possessed.I struggled to keep my body functioning long enough to supply him with some of the things I’d been taught by my parents to keep on hand in the event of unexpected guests, such as a toothbrush, toothpaste, showering supplies, and in his case, shaving supplies. He smiled appreciatively at me as he hugged his goodies to his chest and made his way to the room I’d suggested he use. It had an en suite bathroom, as did many, so he wouldn’t have to venture back out into the hall untilhe’d slept and was refreshed.