Where Light Comes and Goes: A Novel
Autor Sandra Cavallo Milleren Limba Engleză Hardback – 12 oct 2020 – vârsta ani
Where Light Comes and Goes brings back Dr. Abby Wilmore, the young family physician who was the protagonist of Miller’s first novel, The Color of Rock. Abby has accepted the directorship of a summer clinic in Yellowstone National Park where she hopes to expand her medical skills. She arrives to find herself working above the increasingly restless Yellowstone supervolcano, treating visitors, staff, and locals, all while evading the advances of a lecherous concession manager and maintaining a long-distance relationship with her partner who stays at the Grand Canyon Clinic. As tremors in the park escalate and the lakes seethe with bubbling gases, Abby learns that some-one is mysteriously killing the bison.
What follows is an engrossing mystery unfolding in a spectacular setting with rich, quirky, and endearing characters and unexpected plot turns. While an overworked Abby makes new friends among her clinic staff and patients, tension builds as the volcano seems to be moving closer to a major eruption and the bison killings become more frequent. Soon, Abby finds herself in mortal danger as the story races to a thrilling and unexpected conclusion.
Sandra Cavallo Miller demonstrated in The Color of Rock that she is a gifted storyteller. Where Light Comes and Goes deftly combines a gripping mystery set in the accurately depicted routine of a busy medical practice amid the wonders of Yellowstone’s magnificent scenery and wildlife. This is entertaining reading at its best.
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Specificații
ISBN-13: 9781948908948
ISBN-10: 1948908948
Pagini: 232
Dimensiuni: 140 x 216 x 25 mm
Greutate: 0.36 kg
Ediția:1
Editura: University of Nevada Press
Colecția University of Nevada Press
ISBN-10: 1948908948
Pagini: 232
Dimensiuni: 140 x 216 x 25 mm
Greutate: 0.36 kg
Ediția:1
Editura: University of Nevada Press
Colecția University of Nevada Press
Recenzii
Praise for The Color of Rock
“Part Grey’s Anatomy, part modern western romance, Miller’s enjoyable story marries unexpected diagnoses with the promise of a happily-ever-after and will please fans of Jojo Moyes.”
—Publishers Weekly
"The Color of Rock is a brilliant novella, a mix of local color and subtle literary merit.”
—Seattle Book Review
“Part Grey’s Anatomy, part modern western romance, Miller’s enjoyable story marries unexpected diagnoses with the promise of a happily-ever-after and will please fans of Jojo Moyes.”
—Publishers Weekly
"The Color of Rock is a brilliant novella, a mix of local color and subtle literary merit.”
—Seattle Book Review
Notă biografică
Sandra Miller is an author, poet, and retired academic family physician. She is the author of The Color of Rock. After a decade in private practice, she spent the rest of her work life as residency and medical school faculty, teaching family medicine. She feels grateful to have helped launch hundreds of residents and students into their careers, and now encourages physicians to write creatively about their experiences. She enjoys the metaphor of living in Phoenix and rising from the ashes of her medical career as she now has time to devote to writing. You are likely to find her hiking with a dog or riding a horse, playing piano badly, or sitting under a tree studying her latest hobby, volcanology.
Extras
CHAPTER 4
Not everything worked out quite as Abby had pictured, but it was close enough.
Her company procured a frontier cabin for her, in a cluster of box-like huts behind the Old Faithful Lodge. The cabins looked bland outside but rustic and cozy inside, with western furnishings and wood- paneled walls. Her stipend covered meals in the lodge and she had a mini- fridge, with a hotpot for tea and soup. Though a tiny place, it suited her, although she had a hard time imagining Pepper and his long legs sharing the double bed when he came to visit.
First things first. She drew a stick-figure cartoon of Pepper, standing by her car the day she left, pointing with a grumpy face and saying, “Get out of here.” Abby credited her rudimentary drawings, which
usually showed Pepper acting crabby and bossy, with why he became attracted to her, and she reminded him often. He disagreed, insisting that her damn cartoons nearly ruined their relationship, although Abby knew he collected them in a folder. In turn, he sent her ink and pencil sketches of the canyon and trees and skies, and sometimes of her.
Abby arranged a meeting with her new staff. Until now, the small medical practice at Old Faithful had been housed in a pleasant log building, shared with a ranger station. But new plans to expand the
rangers’ space changed everything, leaving the exam rooms stripped and empty, awaiting desks and maps.
The health center now stood, uninspired, behind a large parking lot in a generically tan double-wide trailer. Once Abby looked past all the pavement, though, she found the spot actually satisfying, tucked into a stand of pines, where birds hopped through branches and ravens patrolled with low grating mumbles, checking for plunder. Arcs of sunlight and shade danced over the roof. Short steps and a wide wheelchair ramp led to the door, where a small white sign proclaimed CLINIC. Abby pulled out her key as she approached, but heard voices inside and found the door unlocked.
“It’s never going to work if you don’t fix the settings first.” An exasperated female voice.
A woman in her late twenties stood scowling behind a portly man seated at the front counter, their faces illuminated by a computer screen. Her maroon hair sprouted dark roots, a little spiky on top, and fell in shaggy layers past her shoulders. A tiny diamond glinted on the wing of her nose. She had light brown eyes, wearing black jeans and a frayed black tank, but what drew Abby’s eye was the rattlesnake tattoo curling down her left arm and around her wrist, the open-fanged mouth emerging on the back of her hand. The thirty-something man had a benign round face, receding short pale hair, and wore a large aloha shirt crowded with loud pink-and-yellow flowers. He reminded Abby of Winnie-the-Pooh.
“Sorry, we’re not open,” the woman said shortly, sending Abby a sharp look and returning to the computer. “Oh my god, Marcus. What key did you just hit?”
He shrugged and looked sheepish. Then they realized Abby still stood there and both looked up again.
“I’m Abby Wilmore. The new doctor.”
They stared at her. Abby smiled, aware that in her jeans and bohemian cotton shirt, with her hair loose down her back, she didn’t look quite like they expected.
The woman smiled cautiously and came around the counter, shook Abby’s hand.
“Gem Bittersmith. I’m the nurse.” Her light brown eyes looked levelly into Abby’s, then she tipped her head toward the computer. “We’re trying to get the system up and running, ma’am, but there’s a problem with the EMR. Marcus here is fighting with it, but so far he’s not winning.” Abby shook her head sympathetically. The EMR, the electronic medical record, was the data heart of every practice now, but it was not always a healthy heart, plagued by stutters and low output. Most systems carried glitches and non-intuitive links, full of annoying templates and
awkward syntax.
The man stood and extended his plump hand over the counter, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Marcus Limerick. And before you ask, the answer is no and yes.” Abby looked puzzled and he smiled even wider. “No, meaning it’s not a joke—it’s my real name. And yes, it is a joke—because that’s sort of what a limerick is. Get it? Anyway, I’m your front desk man. At your service.” He put his hands together and gave a funny little Asian bow that seemed vaguely inappropriate.
Gem rolled her eyes, while Abby moved around to the computer.
“This is the same program we use at the canyon. It’s kind of tricky to log in, especially the first time.”
Abby closed and re-opened a computer window, busy with codes and passwords, while Gem tapped her foot impatiently.
“Hopefully Marcus hasn’t destroyed it already,” she commented. Marcus grinned amiably. “Yep, I could do that. Sort of a specialty of mine, messing up computers.”
Gem sighed heavily and Marcus laughed, not the least shamed by his admission.
“There you go.” Abby straightened. “All ready for anything.”
“Thanks!” Marcus said with approval, scooting up to the keyboard and busily navigating the site. “I need to set up our first appointments. You want to see a patient every seven minutes, right?” He peered up at
their alarmed expressions and chuckled. “Just kidding! Boy, you should see your faces right now. Is fifteen minutes okay, or do you want twenty?” Abby settled on twenty minutes. Seeing over three patients an hour was difficult unless there were no complex problems, no chest pains, no older patients, no chronic pain patients, no Pap tests, no one with depression—for starters. A long list. And routine appointments often got derailed by unexpected injuries and sick tourists.
Gem motioned Abby to the back office and conducted a brief tour: three small exam rooms, a generous working station with a lab, two bathrooms (one for patients, one for staff, Gem emphasized) and a
treatment room. All plain and uninspired, but adequate.
“Wait,” said Abby. “Where’s the X-ray?”
“Yeah, about that.” Gem glared around the room as if it might materialize. “I called FirstMed and they said the old X-ray unit is kaput and they’re working on it.”
“Working on it . . .” Abby repeated. “We kind of really need that.”
“Yes, ma’am, we do. Apparently we’re supposed to send people up to Mammoth Hot Springs if they need an X-ray. That’s just fubar. It’s about fifty miles, so it takes over an hour if traffic is good. Or a whole lot longer if there’s a bison jam. Two hours is pretty standard.”
“Bison jam.” Saying it out loud felt surreal.
“Yeah. Sometimes bison stand in the road, and they don’t move until they want to. I’m pretty sure they do it on purpose. And you don’t just go shoo a bison away—they’ll move you before you move them.
Traffic can back up for miles.” Gem had her hands on her hips now, staring at Abby as if trying to figure her out. Not exactly hostile, but not overly friendly, either. “Not to mention the tourists who just stop their cars in the middle of the road to take photos. Then someone gets rear-ended, then someone else. You can imagine.”
“Well.” Abby found herself mimicking Gem’s posture, arms akimbo. “It sounds like—
“Excuse me.” Marcus appeared, looking serious. “I know we’re not open, but there’s a patient here who—”
“You’re right,” Gem said sternly. “Not open. They can come back tomorrow.”
“I think you need to take a look. He’s kind of bleeding all over my waiting room.” Marcus pulled a small white towel from a pile and disappeared up front, Abby and Gem close behind.
Not everything worked out quite as Abby had pictured, but it was close enough.
Her company procured a frontier cabin for her, in a cluster of box-like huts behind the Old Faithful Lodge. The cabins looked bland outside but rustic and cozy inside, with western furnishings and wood- paneled walls. Her stipend covered meals in the lodge and she had a mini- fridge, with a hotpot for tea and soup. Though a tiny place, it suited her, although she had a hard time imagining Pepper and his long legs sharing the double bed when he came to visit.
First things first. She drew a stick-figure cartoon of Pepper, standing by her car the day she left, pointing with a grumpy face and saying, “Get out of here.” Abby credited her rudimentary drawings, which
usually showed Pepper acting crabby and bossy, with why he became attracted to her, and she reminded him often. He disagreed, insisting that her damn cartoons nearly ruined their relationship, although Abby knew he collected them in a folder. In turn, he sent her ink and pencil sketches of the canyon and trees and skies, and sometimes of her.
Abby arranged a meeting with her new staff. Until now, the small medical practice at Old Faithful had been housed in a pleasant log building, shared with a ranger station. But new plans to expand the
rangers’ space changed everything, leaving the exam rooms stripped and empty, awaiting desks and maps.
The health center now stood, uninspired, behind a large parking lot in a generically tan double-wide trailer. Once Abby looked past all the pavement, though, she found the spot actually satisfying, tucked into a stand of pines, where birds hopped through branches and ravens patrolled with low grating mumbles, checking for plunder. Arcs of sunlight and shade danced over the roof. Short steps and a wide wheelchair ramp led to the door, where a small white sign proclaimed CLINIC. Abby pulled out her key as she approached, but heard voices inside and found the door unlocked.
“It’s never going to work if you don’t fix the settings first.” An exasperated female voice.
A woman in her late twenties stood scowling behind a portly man seated at the front counter, their faces illuminated by a computer screen. Her maroon hair sprouted dark roots, a little spiky on top, and fell in shaggy layers past her shoulders. A tiny diamond glinted on the wing of her nose. She had light brown eyes, wearing black jeans and a frayed black tank, but what drew Abby’s eye was the rattlesnake tattoo curling down her left arm and around her wrist, the open-fanged mouth emerging on the back of her hand. The thirty-something man had a benign round face, receding short pale hair, and wore a large aloha shirt crowded with loud pink-and-yellow flowers. He reminded Abby of Winnie-the-Pooh.
“Sorry, we’re not open,” the woman said shortly, sending Abby a sharp look and returning to the computer. “Oh my god, Marcus. What key did you just hit?”
He shrugged and looked sheepish. Then they realized Abby still stood there and both looked up again.
“I’m Abby Wilmore. The new doctor.”
They stared at her. Abby smiled, aware that in her jeans and bohemian cotton shirt, with her hair loose down her back, she didn’t look quite like they expected.
The woman smiled cautiously and came around the counter, shook Abby’s hand.
“Gem Bittersmith. I’m the nurse.” Her light brown eyes looked levelly into Abby’s, then she tipped her head toward the computer. “We’re trying to get the system up and running, ma’am, but there’s a problem with the EMR. Marcus here is fighting with it, but so far he’s not winning.” Abby shook her head sympathetically. The EMR, the electronic medical record, was the data heart of every practice now, but it was not always a healthy heart, plagued by stutters and low output. Most systems carried glitches and non-intuitive links, full of annoying templates and
awkward syntax.
The man stood and extended his plump hand over the counter, a wide smile spreading across his face. “Marcus Limerick. And before you ask, the answer is no and yes.” Abby looked puzzled and he smiled even wider. “No, meaning it’s not a joke—it’s my real name. And yes, it is a joke—because that’s sort of what a limerick is. Get it? Anyway, I’m your front desk man. At your service.” He put his hands together and gave a funny little Asian bow that seemed vaguely inappropriate.
Gem rolled her eyes, while Abby moved around to the computer.
“This is the same program we use at the canyon. It’s kind of tricky to log in, especially the first time.”
Abby closed and re-opened a computer window, busy with codes and passwords, while Gem tapped her foot impatiently.
“Hopefully Marcus hasn’t destroyed it already,” she commented. Marcus grinned amiably. “Yep, I could do that. Sort of a specialty of mine, messing up computers.”
Gem sighed heavily and Marcus laughed, not the least shamed by his admission.
“There you go.” Abby straightened. “All ready for anything.”
“Thanks!” Marcus said with approval, scooting up to the keyboard and busily navigating the site. “I need to set up our first appointments. You want to see a patient every seven minutes, right?” He peered up at
their alarmed expressions and chuckled. “Just kidding! Boy, you should see your faces right now. Is fifteen minutes okay, or do you want twenty?” Abby settled on twenty minutes. Seeing over three patients an hour was difficult unless there were no complex problems, no chest pains, no older patients, no chronic pain patients, no Pap tests, no one with depression—for starters. A long list. And routine appointments often got derailed by unexpected injuries and sick tourists.
Gem motioned Abby to the back office and conducted a brief tour: three small exam rooms, a generous working station with a lab, two bathrooms (one for patients, one for staff, Gem emphasized) and a
treatment room. All plain and uninspired, but adequate.
“Wait,” said Abby. “Where’s the X-ray?”
“Yeah, about that.” Gem glared around the room as if it might materialize. “I called FirstMed and they said the old X-ray unit is kaput and they’re working on it.”
“Working on it . . .” Abby repeated. “We kind of really need that.”
“Yes, ma’am, we do. Apparently we’re supposed to send people up to Mammoth Hot Springs if they need an X-ray. That’s just fubar. It’s about fifty miles, so it takes over an hour if traffic is good. Or a whole lot longer if there’s a bison jam. Two hours is pretty standard.”
“Bison jam.” Saying it out loud felt surreal.
“Yeah. Sometimes bison stand in the road, and they don’t move until they want to. I’m pretty sure they do it on purpose. And you don’t just go shoo a bison away—they’ll move you before you move them.
Traffic can back up for miles.” Gem had her hands on her hips now, staring at Abby as if trying to figure her out. Not exactly hostile, but not overly friendly, either. “Not to mention the tourists who just stop their cars in the middle of the road to take photos. Then someone gets rear-ended, then someone else. You can imagine.”
“Well.” Abby found herself mimicking Gem’s posture, arms akimbo. “It sounds like—
“Excuse me.” Marcus appeared, looking serious. “I know we’re not open, but there’s a patient here who—”
“You’re right,” Gem said sternly. “Not open. They can come back tomorrow.”
“I think you need to take a look. He’s kind of bleeding all over my waiting room.” Marcus pulled a small white towel from a pile and disappeared up front, Abby and Gem close behind.
Descriere
Dr. Abby Wilmore takes on a summer clinic in Yellowstone to expand her experience. She quickly develops ties with her quirky staff and faces new trials working above a restless supervolcano, tackling everything from steam burns to wildlife injuries, and questioning why someone is mysteriously killing bison. Aligned with a shy geologist and an ex-army nurse, she evades the advances from a misogynist manager and becomes unwittingly entangled with a risky patient ash she draws support from her partner, Dr. John Pepper. But she is unable to leave her personal demons behind and must discover how to battle them.