Excerpt
Dr. Benedict quickly removed his blazer and replaced it with a lab coat from the wall hook. He opened a small black bag, took out a stethoscope and draped it around his neck.

"Well, then, I guess I'd better get to work. The tired, poor and huddled masses await." He reached out his hand and opened the door. "Oh, one more thing," he added. "I came straight from the airport and I'm starved. Would you be a sweetheart and run out and pick me up a chicken sandwich? There must be someplace around here to get something fit to eat."

Shock flew through her and she felt her face flush from her growing anger. Infuriated by the condescension in his voice, Meghan stepped around him, put her hand on the door and slammed it shut.

"Let me clue you in on a few things right up front, Doctor," she stated, putting every ounce of sarcasm she could muster into the title.

"Number one. Monsignor Bailey knows and I know and damned near everybody else here knows that without a doctor on staff, this place will be forced to close its doors. If it takes my last breath, I won't allow that to happen. I refuse to deprive my people of proper medical care. I'm also assuming that since the Diocese has very limited funds to expend for our little facility, you volunteered for this position. Tag, Doctor Attitude. You're it!"

David Benedict merely stared, tongue-tied.

"Number two. My name is Meghan Hardesty. Not 'Honey' or 'Sweetheart' and most certainly not 'Hey, you'. I'm a registered nurse and a licensed social worker. I hold a Master's Degree in Behavioral Sciences from Columbia University and Bachelor's in Child Psychology. I am not now, nor have I ever been, a gofer!"