The Alpine Kindred Read Online Free

tendencies, kept her safely employed.
    Yet it occurred to me that if Carla was going to have a baby before the year was out, I'd need some fill-in help while she took maternity leave. “An intern,” I muttered.
    “An intern?” Vida scowled. “We don't need an intern, we need a full-fledged GP. Poor Doc Dewey—he's working himself into the ground since Peyton Flake left.”
    “I meant an intern for here, while Carla's having the baby. You know,” I clarified, “maybe someone from the college. It would only be for a few weeks.”
    “Oh.” Vida made a face. “I thought you were referring to our current shortage of medical personnel. Do you know that Grace Grundle has to wait four weeks to get her bunions off?”
    I didn't know, nor did I care. The search for a qualified physician had gone on too long, however. Only the previous week I'd written yet another editorial about the county health department's foot-dragging. Until the influx of college students, Alpine and its environs had one of the oldest populations in the state. Between the longevity of its many Scandinavian residents and the migration of young people to the city, the average age in Skykomish County was almost five years older than that of other, larger counties. But for all my carping in
The Advocate
, Alpine still remained a one-doc town.
    If I was temporarily disinterested in the current medical crisis, Vida wasn't concerned about a replacement for Carla. “Plenty of time to worry about that,” she said. “For now, we must concentrate on this baby business. Whydon't you come over to dinner tonight at my house? I'll fix a nice casserole.”
    Like most of her cooking, Vida's casseroles were a mixed bag. In fact, they tasted more like she'd used a paper bag as part of the ingredients. “Don't go to the trouble,” I said hastily. “We can eat at the Venison Inn.”
    “Well …” Vida fingered her chin. “I do have some errands to run after work. Why don't I meet you there a little before six? We'll avoid the rush.”
    The rush
in Alpine is always a relative term. What Vida really meant was that she wanted to make sure she got a window table so she could keep her eye on the passing parade down Front Street.
    “Okay,” I agreed. “I'll stick around here and get caught up on a few things.”
    By five, everyone else had gone home. By five-thirty, I finished going through the handouts and news releases that had piled up in my in-basket. Turning out the lights and locking up, I stepped cautiously onto the sidewalk. I would never admit it, but every time I left the office, I checked to make sure that Milo Dodge wasn't in sight. Maybe that was why I was eating lunch in so much these days. I didn't want to see him, not because I hated him, but because he didn't want to see me.
    Strange, I thought, glancing the two blocks down Front Street to the Sheriff's office, how we had agreed to stay friends when we broke up. But maybe not so strange that Milo hadn't been able to keep the promise. It was my idea to stop seeing each other. He had reacted much more bitterly than I'd expected. Maybe he'd cared more than I'd ever guessed. It would have been nice if he'd told me so along the way.
    There was no sign of his Cherokee Chief parked in front of the Sheriff's office. I assumed he'd gone home to his TV dinner and his baseball game. I didn't want tothink about Milo sitting in front of the set and eating Swanson's Hungry-Man frozen chicken.
    I didn't want to think about Milo at all.
    But I did.

Chapter Two
    O N T UESDAY , C ARLA turned into a dynamo. She managed to get a photo of a three-car collision on Alpine Way near her apartment, she turned out a creditable story on the RUB dedication, and she filled the gaping hole on page one with the Bourgettes' restaurant plans. Last but not least, she met Einar Rasmussen Jr. at the college and shot off two rolls of film in an attempt at appeasement.
    “He wasn't too awful,” Carla said later that afternoon when the