"Conrad, have you seen or heard from the Doc lately?"
"Not in a couple of days. The last I heard; he was out at the Colony. One of the rich and famous probably got a hangnail or something."
"Come on. You know he doesn't cater to the rich and famous. We're damn lucky to have him. Any man who gives up on the world and dedicates himself to helping isolated and indigent people, free of charge, is aces in my book."
"I didn't say he wasn't the greatest thing since sliced bread, Karen. He's aces. I just wanted to know if you were asking because there was someone sick on one of the islands? Did we get a distress call?"
"No. I was just wondering. I haven't seen or heard from him in a while. He's not answering his phone or his radio. I worry about him. He's so reclusive. Do you know if he's out there on his boat, or did he take his plane?"
"Not sure. Bring up the runway manifest. If it shows his plane's still on the ground, he took his boat. I'm guessing he did. If he took the plane, he'd have probably brought the patient back here to treat them. He's got an entire hospital on that ginormous boat of his."
"Adamson Base calling Recluse. Do you copy?"
It took a few minutes for the response. "Ten four, Karen." Karen breathed a silent sigh of relief. "I was in the middle of landing a rather large mackerel before a certain someone interrupted the battle," he laughed. "Trouble in paradise?"
"No, Doc. We just miss your grumpy butt. You haven't checked in for days."
"Took a little vacation. I'll be pulling in to Adamson in a day or two. I'm running low on beer."
"How about if I have a cold one waiting for you at your slip when you tie up?"
"That sounds like a winner, Karen. I've got to stop back by Cooper's Light and then the Colony, before I come in. Look for me sometime tomorrow evening."
"Ten-four, Doc. Adamson out."
Karen sat staring silently out through the massive window of the com shack and out over the choppy water rolling in and crashing haphazardly against the shore. In her heart, she knew the illusive, cagy doc wasn't one that she'd be able to capture in her womanly web entirely, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to keep trying. He was the most handsome, rugged, manly man she'd ever met. She got a tingle just thinking about him.
No one knew what made him give up on his lucrative surgical practice somewhere in the Carolinas and move, lock, stock and barrel, to this isolated, frigid little piece of the world, but she and the vast majority of the inhabitants of the outlying islands were all thankful that he had.
It wasn't an issue with his medical license that turned him into a recluse. That, the local busy bodies made sure of. The village council on the mainland covertly investigated him immediately after he'd performed an emergency appendectomy on his boat.
While the doc was scoping out the islands, introducing himself when he first arrived, Milly Scott on Fulton's Head had been in bed for two days, complaining of a high fever and severe stomach pain. She'd tried every home remedy her neighbors could conjure up with no luck.
Lucky for Milly, Doc was introducing himself to the inhabitants and lazily shooting the breeze over a beer in the pub with one of them; Milly's neighbor. When the guy he was talking to learned that Doc was, indeed, an MD, he asked if Doc wouldn't mind paying Milly a visit. Doc happily agreed. Twenty minutes later, Doc and Milly's neighbor were carrying a very sick and lethargic Milly to Doc's boat where, lo and behold, he had a well-stocked surgery set up in one of the large berths.
When word of his miraculous save hit the rumor mill, some of the nosier, standoffish natives started digging for something new to flap their gums over. Most were disappointed, a few outwardly so, when they found out that, while reclusive and a bit different, Doc was a five-star surgeon without a blemish on his current, stellar, medical record. He was a renowned vascular surgeon, heavily published, who had perfected a lifesaving vascular bypass surgery that was all the buzz in medical circles. More disappointing for some of them was that there wasn't the slightest hint anywhere to indicate his reasons for moving to their isolated piece of nowhere anywhere to be found. And some of the more determined members of the clique dug deeply. Regardless of the facts, the exaggerated rumors started to spread like wildfire.
"So, I'm a mackerel, huh?" Linda something or other laughed, laying naked in the main berth, hotter than a firecracker.
"Gotta keep them guessing." Karen's call interrupted some extremely heated foreplay.
"So, you're going into Adamson tomorrow?" she growled, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down to her heaving breast. She was still fidgeting, waiting for him to pick up where he left off before they were so rudely interrupted.
"Yeah. I'm expecting some medical supplies. They're supposed to be delivered to the hospital in the morning."
"You know, if you ever need an assistant..."
"I appreciate the offer, Linda," he smiled, working his way between her long, sexy legs "but I work alone." He was rubbing his massive cock, one of the reasons the lovely Linda always awaited his return visits to her island anxiously, teasingly along her heated, dripping quim. She didn't resist in the slightest, still panting, as he slowly entered her. She was on the brink when he stopped to answer the damned radio. Her strong legs immediately wrapped around his back.
"You're going to tear some lesser woman in half with that abomination one day." She grunted, as he slowly worked into her dripping sex. "And if it's me, just know I went happily," she giggled, then moaned louder still as he delved deeper inside her.
"I'm a doctor. I can fix that," he smiled, taking her curvy hips in his hands as he sank into her deeper still.
"Yeah, Baby!!" she growled, her hips swaying to aid his access. "Ou, ou, ou!!" It never took long for the orgasmic Linda to get off. Unfortunately, whenever they finished, she always wanted to lay there and cuddle when all he wanted to do was see her beautiful ass going down the brow. He'd done the true blue, dedicated thing once before and it cost him his very soul. He wasn't getting himself romantically involved with anyone ever again.
"Yeah! Yeah! That's it, Baby! I...I...ahhhhh!" Linda's second big O. She was flopping around on the bed like that mackerel would have been if he'd actually boated one, her head thrashing about like a woman possessed.
Doc sped up his thrusts. He was close. Just one more good... "Ahhhhh!! Yeah, Baby," he groaned, hot spurts of his spunk sailing into her.
Yes...yes...yes!!" Her third and most powerful trip over the mountain wracked her long body as her fingers pulled her rigid pink nipples to enhance her powerful release.
Her screams echoed off the walls in the large space. "Wow! Just...wow!" She was fighting to catch her breath. "I think we should have a drink to celebrate that bell ringer."
"Next time, Darlin. I've got to get to Cooper's Light. I've got a patient out there with some ongoing problems. I need to get his medicine to him."
"Let me go with you, Doc?"
"Not this time, Linda. I've got to see my patient and get back to Adamson. This is the busy season for retired doctors. Winter's coming."
"All you ever want to do is fuck!" She was pouting.
"Hey, you knew the situation the first time you did that drunken striptease on the deck."
"You're a real sonofabitch, you know that!" She jumped up and started dressing without even showering. That was the fastest he'd ever been able to get rid of her.
"Well fuck you very much, Doc! Don't worry. I won't take up any more of your precious time." It was her typical goodbye. She stormed out of the berth, up the companionway and off the boat in a huff.
"See ya next trip, Darlin," he yelled to the retreating beauty, smiling. Her middle finger was waving spastically. She was such a drama queen. He got better and better at being an asshole at every stop. She'd be back. She always came back.
****
Doc pulled his lines from the dock and drifted out with the current. He was in no hurry for anything other than to get away from people. Linda in particular. Her childish antics were truly starting to get on his nerves.
Once the small island was out of sight, he dropped the hook and showered, fixed a light dinner and fired up the mains on Recluse, his custom, seventy-two-foot Selene Ocean Explorer that he'd had to wait a year to take delivery of, and charted his course for Cooper's Light . Then he'd be off to the Artist's Colony and finally Adamson Station.
Thankfully, his ongoing efforts to control Evan Masterson's glucose levels on The Light were coming to fruition. He made the short stroll to the senescent lighthouse from the small, sagging dock and found Evan looking much improved. His glucose levels confirmed it, as did the restoration of his jolly disposition.
"I brought you more of your injectables, Evan. Make sure you keep those in the refrigerator. And keep an eye on those levels. I think we've finally gotten you to where you need to be. You're doing great," he smiled, packing his instruments in his bag. "Just stay on this regimen and stay away from the Reese's Pieces."
