by Leigh Smith
Dr. Lauren Bancroft drove into Carsonville on a Tuesday afternoon in mid-September. Overwhelmed with the beauty surrounding her, she knew she would be at home here. Carsonville, Montana was as picturesque a town as one could ever expect to see. She felt as if she was driving onto a movie set back in Los Angeles instead of her new home. Main Street boasted a general store, a small Mom and Pop Grocery store, a café, an old-fashioned looking drug store, nothing like Walgreen's or CVS, the local bank, and a post office. Driving further down Main Street she saw the town hall, the Fire Department, a local grain and feed store and at the end stood a white church with a tall steeple. Following directions on her GPS, she turned at the only light in town onto Madison Avenue. She drove past a Laundromat, the sheriff's office and found what she was looking for - a square of buildings marked Medical Center. There were four wooden structures surrounding a courtyard. One housed a dentist, a veterinarian office, an emergency clinic and next to that her new office. Dr. Dedham's sign still hung above the door. There was a sign in the window that announced Dr. Lauren Bancroft, the new town doctor, would be arriving soon and until then call 406 555 4468 for emergencies only. She smiled to herself.
Lauren was born and raised in a small town outside of Ketchum, Idaho. Her dad was a pharmacist and her mom taught high school science. So it didn't come as a surprise when, at seven years old, Lauren announced that when she grew up she wanted to be a doctor. She remained steadfast in that wish and started researching the best colleges when she was only a high school junior. She received a partial scholarship to UCLA and then went on to David Geffen UCLA Medical School. She had completed an internship and residency at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center before she joined a private practice where she became one of fifty other doctors. She hated it. There was no time to actually get to know a patient - you knew the chart and nothing else. It wasn't why she went into medicine, but it paid down some of the debt hanging over her head so she toiled there until the death of her parents freed her. If she had her druthers, she would rather have had her parents for a few more years, but a helicopter crash during a tour of the Grand Canyon shattered that possibility.
At thirty-five and debt free, she'd began looking for a better place to live and practice the kind of medicine she'd dreamed of while watching Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman as a young girl. She'd been leafing through the New England Journal of Medicine when an ad had caught her eye. Carsonville was looking for a town doctor.
Googling Carsonville, she'd found the town was named after Cassidy Carson, who'd settled in the area in 1867. Carson had fought for the south during the civil war and when he returned home found he'd lost everything including his wife and small son. He'd headed west like hundreds of others displaced by the war and joined a cattle drive in Texas that traveled along the Bozeman Trail in Montana. The vast grasslands of the open range enticed many of the drovers to stay and try their hand at ranching. Despite the trials and tribulations, he and others had prevailed and settled the town of Carsonville.
Now, here she was, setting down roots in this Montana town of 2,000. When she called the number in the paper, she spoke with a man named Trace Connors. He explained the township owned the practice and the equipment of both the office and the clinic and she would receive a salary, malpractice insurance as well as housing. It wasn't a fortune or even close to her last salary, but it was enough for her. She punched the new address into her GPS and started out of town. Several of the townsfolk waved as she went by. Of course, the Caduceus symbol on the out of state plate probably gave her away, but it was nice to know the people were friendly.
Her GPS pinged and told her to make a right. A right to where? she asked herself because the only thing she saw was a graveled road. She stopped and verified that she had entered the correct address and made the right. She hoped she was going the right way because she hadn't encountered another vehicle since leaving Main Street. The sun was starting to set behind the mountain and the thought of being lost out here in the middle of nowhere frightened her.
The road continued to climb. She tried keeping her eyes on the road, but it was difficult. She kept admiring the beauty of nature. Surrounding her were dense pine forest and quaking aspens with their mantle of gold lining the road, and ahead the ever-present majestic Rocky Mountains, already cloaked in a dusting of snow on their highest peaks.
About a mile later, she came to a ranch house, behind that was a dormitory-like building and a large barn all clustered in a clearing. Her GPS didn't say she had reached her destination so she continued up the road. At least if she was lost, she wasn't alone out here in the boonies. Looming in front of her stood two massive lodgepole pines bearing a sign announcing she had arrived at Double Pines Ranch. At the same time the GPS said she had arrived at her destination. She followed the drive to the main house and parked the car.
The main house was an enormous two-story log house that looked more like a lodge than someone's house. One side of the massive double oak doors opened as she approached the porch and a man, looking as if he stepped out of the old Marlboro man commercials, filled the doorway.
"Hello, Dr. Bancroft, I assume." He laughed. "I'm Trace Connors. Welcome to Carsonville and the Double Pines Ranch. Won't you come in?" He extended his hand and taking it she felt the roughness and calluses of a working man.
"Thanks, I'd love to. It feels good to get out of the car. You have a beautiful home," she told him as her eyes wandered around the room and zoned in on the logs burning in a huge stone fireplace.
"Thank you, I can't take any of the credit. I grew up here and haven't really changed anything. Can I offer you some coffee or tea? My housekeeper isn't here today, so I'm on my own in the hospitality department."
"Is coffee too much trouble?" she asked.
"Dr. Bancroft, coffee is the lifeblood of a rancher. I just brewed a fresh pot. Want to follow me into the kitchen or would you rather I bring it in here."
"Oh no, the kitchen is terrific. And please, call me Lauren."
They walked down a long hallway past another large living area on the right and a dining room with a table that could easily seat twelve on the left, and into the kitchen. She thought she was in a restaurant kitchen with a huge six burner Wolf stove complete with grill, double wall ovens, a side by side Sub-Zero refrigerator, and a butcher block island with hanging copper pots. Oak cabinets surrounded the kitchen and she could see a walk-in pantry. He walked over to a simple Mr. Coffee coffee maker that looked so out of place in this otherwise high-end kitchen. He waved his hand toward a round table with six chairs sitting in front of the floor to ceiling windows filled with a view of the magnificent Rockies. He grabbed two mugs from a cabinet next to double farm sinks and brought them to the table along with the coffee carafe.
"Cream and sugar?"
"No, strong and black for me. It's what got me through med school and residency."
"A girl after my own heart." She melted at his smile, noticing that it went all the way to his very blue eyes that twinkled.
They settled in the chairs and sat drinking coffee as they chatted about life. She told him about her life in Los Angeles. "I'm afraid you're going to be bored here in Carsonville. I don't know how someone as attractive as you and coming from an area like LA is going to be happy here in our little town. The most exciting thing that happens is a dance once in a while down at the Grange Hall."
"Thank you for the attractive part but my LA life wasn't at all exciting. Sure there are many options but by the time my day was done, so was I. Leaving wasn't difficult at all. I grew up in a small town and am looking forward to a less hectic pace."
"Look, it's getting dark and I haven't even showed you your quarters. What say I fix us a little dinner and then you can stay here in the main house tonight and I'll take you over to your place in the morning. I assure you, you're safe here - I'm not a serial killer or a letch. Choose any of our six guest rooms - all the rooms have locks." She smiled at him.
"I don't want to put you out."
"Trust me, you're not. Your place will be cold, there are only bare-bones supplies and I'm not sure where everything is. My housekeeper, usually in charge of these things, had to help her daughter who is having a baby. It'll be much easier on both of us if you stay here tonight."
"Okay, thank you. Although I'm anxious to see my new space, I'm worn out from driving. Let me go get my things from the car."
"You stay put, I'll get it."
"It's the one in the back seat," she told him as he walked toward the door. She couldn't help but notice how well his jeans fit his long legs and tight butt. Stop drooling, she said to herself.
He came back in and dropped her bag in the hallway. "Would you like to freshen up while I get dinner? Don't get me wrong, you're fine as you are." She laughed at his awkwardness.
"No worries. I'd love to freshen up." He carried her bag upstairs and stopped at the first door at the top of the stairs. "Will this be okay?"
"Okay? You're kidding, right? It's larger and better appointed than most hotel rooms." He smiled at her as he showed her the bathroom and pulled some towels out of the linen closet. "Come downstairs when you're ready and holler if you need anything."
She washed her face, combed her hair, and gave herself a swish of perfume before heading back downstairs. A bottle of wine and a couple of glasses rested on the counter. He motioned to them and asked if she wanted to join him in a drink. She nodded and he asked her to do the honors. She uncorked the wine and poured two glasses. He took his wine over to the counter and she sat at the table.
"Can I help?"
"Thanks but there's really nothing to do. I threw a couple of potatoes in the oven. I'll grill a couple of steaks, toss a salad and sauté some mushrooms. Sound good to you?"
"Sounds wonderful." He knew his way around this kitchen and looked right at home. After Lauren's second glass of wine, she realized how comfortable she felt with the man she'd only met hours earlier. Over dinner and the rest of the wine, Trace talked about Double Pines Ranch and himself. He and his sister were adopted by the Connor's at three and two years old. Maureen and Duncan Connor had built up this ranch and were now retired. They spent the summers here but wintered in Florida.
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