“Whether you like it or not,” Anna added.
“You know, there are plenty of nice, new rental places up by Paradise Lake. Condos and all. I’m sure Flora could fix you up.”
“I’m good,” Ben said. “Besides, this place is furnished.”
“Furnished. You don’t say,” Orvis answered with a doubtful nod.
“And I was actually looking for something off the beaten track.” Why did he feel the need to defend the little cabin in the middle of nowhere?
Orvis slowly glanced around at the overgrown yard and tangled shrubs that backed up to a dense forest of conifers. He raised his brows. “Guess you found it, didn’t you?”
Ben returned a weak smile.
“You’re a city boy.” The discerning old man wasn’t asking, just stating the facts as he cocked his head, eyeing Ben up and down yet again, like he was a puzzle to be figured out.
“I’m from Denver.”
“Got family there?”
“I do.”
“You’re a long way from home then, aren’t you? All of our children are here in Paradise. Three boys and their wives. Six grandchildren.” He looked hard at Ben. “Nothing as important as family.”
“Uh, yes, sir.”
Anna smiled. “Are you married, Dr. Rogers?”
“Me?” Ben blinked, startled at the question. “Ah, no.”
“Too bad you missed our big Founder’s Day Social last month, but we do have a lively singles group at church.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, ma’am.”
“You know, Sara Elliott is single, as well,” the older woman mused, assessing him with narrowed eyes. “She was engaged, but that didn’t last. I daresay he broke her heart.” Anna shook her head. “A shame. Sara is such a lovely girl.”
Ben squirmed under her scrutiny.
“Are you matchmaking?” Orvis chided his wife.
“Why, I’m just chatting, Orvis.”
“More like gossip if you ask me, and we shouldn’t be gossiping about Sara. That girl’s had a rough go of it.”
Despite himself, Ben found himself listening closer to the banter between husband and wife once Sara’s name was mentioned.
Anna turned to Orvis, a question on her face and fire in her eyes. “So when you and Orvis Jr. chaw about Hollis Elliott and how he thinks he owns Paradise because he’s the richest man in these parts, is that chatting or gossiping, do you think?”
Orvis’s ears reddened.
“All I’m saying is, the good Lord brought Dr. Rogers to Paradise for a reason.” She smiled sweetly. “There’s nothing wrong with being open to possibilities.” Anna looked pointedly at Ben. “Right?”
“I, uh...” Ben stumbled over his tongue.
“Don’t say anything, Doc,” Orvis advised with a shake of his head, one hand raised. “I’m telling you. Not a thing. We can’t win this one.”
“Yes, sir,” he answered.
“I think we’d best be going now,” Anna said. “Sure enjoyed chatting with you, Dr. Rogers.” She shot a pointed look at her husband. “If you need anything, you just let us know.”
“Just call the café,” Orvis added. “Patti Jo will track us down.”
“Thank you.” Ben gestured awkwardly toward the box and thermos he still held cradled in one arm.
“Our pleasure,” Anna said.
When the Carters’ pickup truck disappeared down the dirt road, Ben turned and went into the house. He slid the box and the thermos onto the island counter and pulled open the cupboards. A couple of mugs and a few mismatched dishes would do until he could unpack his own.
He unscrewed the thermos and inhaled, wasting no time before pouring. The fresh, stout beverage was perfect, and far superior to even the pricey blend at his local coffee shop.
Impatient, he slid open the lid on the bakery box. Cinnamon rolls, chocolate croissants and at least a half dozen of a variety of plump golden muffins sat between waxed tissue paper in the large box. Breakfast, lunch and dinner, as far as he was concerned.
Warm cinnamon roll in hand, Ben headed out the backdoor to sit on the small stoop that faced the mountains.
Around him, birds chirped in the aspens and tall conifers surrounding the yard. A morning breeze wafted past, waving the leaves of the aspen like green coins and bringing in the scents of summer. Honeysuckle, grass and a hint of pine.
Yeah, Paradise all right. He bit into the pastry and paused mid chew. No wonder the customers were lined up in the café. Slowly savoring the roll, he analyzed the unkempt yard, mentally adding lawn mower to his shopping list. A hammock would be good, too, and a barbecue grill.
Maybe he could get them in Paradise and avoid driving into Monte Vista. He’d seen a grocery and a hardware store in town.
Leaning back, Ben sighed.
This was nice. Real nice.
Nicer than he deserved.
A man could forget his troubles in a setting like this. Like a wound that hadn’t been treated, the problem with ignoring your troubles was that it didn’t actually make them go away.
No, he’d learned the hard way, after sitting in a dark apartment for six months, that they refused to go away until you dealt with them.
* * *
“Ben?”
Sara pushed her grocery cart down the aisle, closer to the towering display of cereal boxes. “What are you doing?”
“Grocery shopping.” He tugged at the bill of his cap and adjusted his dark sunglasses.
“Where’s your cart?”
“Oh, it’s parked around here somewhere. I think.” He glanced around, looking more and more distracted by the second.
When he shoved his hands into his pockets, Sara noted the white gauze peeking out from his short-sleeved shirt.
“How’s your arm?”
“A nuisance, but fine. Thanks again for coming out last night.” He raised his head and peered over his shoulder at the front of the store, before stepping farther back behind the giant cardboard cutout of a bowl and milk.
His behavior was nothing short of bizarre, and she couldn’t help but ask, “Are you hiding from someone?”
Ben swallowed, then turned and tilted his head toward the checkout lanes.
Bewildered, Sara followed his gaze to where three silver-haired women stood chatting. “What am I looking at?”
“Those women. See the tall one with the bun on the top of her head? She appears to be the ringleader.”
“You’re hiding from the Paradise Ladies’ Auxiliary?”
His brows shot up from behind the shades. “You know them?”
“Yes. They just happen to be part of a very nice group of Christian women who do community service for Paradise.”
“They’re stalking me.”
Sara’s eyes widened, and she bit back a laugh.
“Stalking. Like gang activity or something?”
“You don’t believe me.”
“I didn’t say that, but you’re giving me a visual of the women of the Paradise Ladies’ Auxiliary riding through town on motorcycles terrorizing the town.”
He glared at her. “Why do I think you aren’t taking me seriously?”
“Because I’ve known those women all my life, and they’re harmless. I think we can probably chalk this up to a miscommunication.”
“Miscommication? By whom?” He raised a brow. “First I was cornered in the hardware store. A twenty-minute lecture on the flora indigenous to the area ensued. They offered to assist with yard maintenance. I politely declined. Then I stopped by the café for a coffee, and they pulled up chairs at my table for another chat, this time about delivering hot meals to my house while my arm heals. Again, I politely declined. Now I’m grocery shopping, and they show up.” Both brows were raised as he
stared pointedly at her. “Still going with the miscommunication theory?”
“No, now I’m going with small-town neighborliness.”
“Sara, they also mentioned a single granddaughter I should meet.”
Sara put a hand over her mouth.
Ben frowned. “Something funny?”
“Yes. You.”
“Sure, funny to you. You aren’t the object of their attention.”
“Well, let me ask you this. Would it hurt to let them bring hot meals to the cabin?”
He pulled off his glasses and pinned her with his dark eyes. “Here’s the thing. I like being alone. In fact, I’m not a real social being.”
She feigned a gasp. “No. Really? You?”
He glared.
“How did they find out about your arm?” she asked.
“Anna Carter would be my guess.”
“How did Anna Carter find out about your arm?”
“Anna and Orvis came out to the cabin this morning.”
“If you hadn’t saved Orvis’s life and become a town hero, none of this would have happened.”
Ben snorted. “So this is my fault?”
“Look, you’re in Paradise, Colorado, population—”
“Seventeen-hundred and eighteen,” he recited.
“I’m concerned you know that.” She shook her head and continued. “The number of single men under the age of sixty-five in this town is only slightly higher than the number of sightings of the Paradise Lake Monster.”
“There’s a Paradise Lake Monster?”
She raised her brows. “Ben, it’s a myth. Relax. What I’m trying to say is that if you’re going to survive Paradise, you’ve got to chill. This isn’t the big city. People talk to you on the street here, drop by unannounced, and sometimes they even ask how your kids are.”
“I don’t have kids.”
“Yes, but you do happen to be the most exciting news that’s blown into town in a while. Maybe you could find a way to use that to your advantage.”
He pulled off his cap, then slapped it back on. “That’s all the advice you can offer?”
“Advice?” She gripped the grocery cart. “Hmm, well, I can suggest you plan your outings for Wednesday evenings from now on.”
“I’m afraid to ask why.”
“That’s when the Paradise Ladies’ Auxiliary meets at Bitsy’s house.”
“Don’t think I don’t appreciate the insider information, but what do I do in the meantime?” he asked.
Sara looked him up and down, knowing she was going to regret what she was about to say. “I suppose I could help you out.”
“You’d do that?” He perked up.
“Of course you’ll owe me,” she said, her lips curving into a smile.
“Anything.”
“Oh, that’s a given.”
Ben paused and raised his brows at her comment. “So what’s the plan?” he asked.
“I’ll have to give them someone or something else to save. And that,” she sighed, “won’t be easy.”
“I’m not sure I follow.”
“The Ladies’ Auxiliary needs a mission. Right now, you’re it.” Sara glanced around. “Until I find an alternate project for them, you’d better slip out the service door.” She nodded toward the back of the store.
“How do you know where the service door is?”
“I used to work here.”
Ben’s face reflected his surprise. “Dr. Sara Elliott worked at the Pay and Sack?”
“You bet, and I was the top cashier for three years running.” She glanced at Ben. “You can close your mouth now.”
“I’m sorry. I just...”
“What?”
“Nothing,” he said.
“I’ll have you know I worked at the Pay and Sack every summer through high school and college.”
“Why?”
“Because I needed to know I could do it myself. Ever since the accident, my father has tried to put me in a bubble to protect me.”
“And you’ve fought him every step of the way,” he returned.
Sara met his gaze head-on. The man had pieced together just enough to be dangerous.
“Okay,” she said. “Therapy session is over. Besides, Bitsy’s headed this way. Go down the stairs. Follow the restroom sign. Last door on your left. Make sure the lock catches behind you.”
“Thanks, Sara.”
“Don’t thank me. You aren’t off the hook yet. We’ve still got to find something to keep the ladies busy and their focus off you.”
“We?” Ben turned slightly and looked at her as he headed down the steps.
“For now, we’re in this together,” she said.
“Coconspirators.” Ben grinned.
Sara wasn’t smiling as she watched him disappear from view. Ben Rogers was quickly becoming more and more involved in her life, and that couldn’t possibly be a good thing. He’d managed to analyze her at every turn without sharing much of anything about himself. It was definitely time to turn the tables on the good doctor.
Chapter Five
Ben inserted his key in the lock of the outside door of the clinic before he realized it was already open. He pushed on the metal bar as he glanced at his watch. Seven o’clock. According to Dr. Rhoades, the contractors wouldn’t show until nine. The only other keys to the facility belonged to Sara and her uncle. He turned back to check out the parking lot again, but there were no cars.
In the empty lobby of the clinic, a mountain bike was propped against boxes of shelving units and a stack of carpet tiles. A blue helmet dangled from the bike’s handlebars. Ben inspected the bike. It wasn’t just a bicycle, it was a serious mountain bike complete with gadgets he couldn’t even identify.
He moved down a newly carpeted hall, where the smell of carpet glue, fresh paint and coffee permeated the air. At the first lit office doorway, he peered in. Sara Elliott sat on the floor with a tower of manila file folders in front of her. Her dark hair hung like a curtain, shielding her face as she studied the open folder in her lap with intensity.
Ben found himself staring for a moment. Was Sara as uncomplicated as she seemed? For all that she’d been through, she ought to be an emotional mess, yet she always appeared happy and upbeat. Her infamous father seemed to be the only bump in her road.
He was used to people with agendas. She didn’t seem to have one, and that made him nervous.
What bothered him most of all was that he couldn’t deny that he was drawn to her. That wasn’t good either, because unlike Sara, he was a myriad of doubts and emotional question marks.
She looked up and a smile lit her lips, reaching and igniting the sparkle in her eyes.
How could it be that one small smile could warm the cold emptiness within him? Ben swallowed hard, fighting the connection she offered.
“You’re here early,” Sara said. “I’m sure Dr. Rhoades will be impressed.”
“I wasn’t exactly looking to impress him.”
She arched a brow. “No?”
“No. And I hate to point out the obvious, but you beat me in.”
“I was going stir-crazy at the ranch.” She shrugged. “What’s your excuse?”
“Pretty much the same thing. I’ve been out of the game for the last six months. Now all I want to do is get to work.”
“What have you been doing for the last six months?” she asked.
“That’s a long, boring story.” He paused. “Is that your bike in the lobby?”
Sara nodded. “My car is in the shop for maintenance—having its rubber bands changed.”
“Excuse me?”
“Inside joke.” Amusement touched her lips. “My father says my car is held together with rubber bands.
He wants to buy me a new expensive model, like your toy.”
“And you refused.”
“Because I don’t need a new car.”
“You’ve heard the term pick your battles?” he asked.
“Yes, thank you, Sigmund.”
As the warning lights flashed, Ben stepped back from the landmine, quickly changing the subject. “So, do you ride the bike a lot?”
She grinned, and her expression said she hadn’t missed his careful retreat. “Not as much since I left Paradise. There’s nothing like a morning bike ride through the valley to make you appreciate life.”
“That’s quite a bike.”
“Bikes are serious business around here. If you’re going to ride, you have to have one that won’t let you down on the trail.”
“Maybe I should get a bike,” Ben said. “Would you mind if I tag along sometime?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Really?”
“Why is that so surprising?”
“I didn’t take you for the jock type.” She cocked her head, assessing him once again.
“Haven’t we had this discussion before?”
“Yes, and I’m still trying to figure out what someone like you is doing in Paradise.”
“Someone like me.”
“Uh-huh. Do you know how hard it is to retain physicians out here?”
“Is that a rhetorical question?”
She kept talking, all the while assessing him. “You could be living the cush life, as a big-city hospitalist, with ten days on and seven days off. Outrageous salary. Social contacts.” She chewed on the end of her pen. “In fact, I’d bet that’s exactly where you came from.” Sara paused. “So, why Paradise? The clinic director position certainly won’t keep you in the financial or social style you’re accustomed to.”
“Is that a no on the bike ride?”
Her eyes widened for a moment before she burst out laughing. “I’ll be happy to show you around the trails in Paradise, Dr. Rogers. But be forewarned, I’m determined to figure you out.”
“Sorry, Sara, but you’re overthinking this. There is nothing to figure out.”
“Uh-huh,” she murmured.
Ben glanced around. “Any idea when the furniture is supposed to arrive?”
Mending the Doctor's Heart Page 5
