by J. K Harper
“It is glorious,” I agreed, following suit and blinking up at the sky.
“I’m Amy.” She stuck her hand out, a sweet smile on her face.
Accepting her hand, I squeezed. “Gina.”
“Nice to meet you, Gina. Are you new to Craggstone? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”
I could have sworn recognition flashed through her eyes, but it was gone in seconds, leaving me thinking I’d imagined it. “No, not new, but I don’t come down to town often.” Or ever.
“Down?”
“Amy! Don’t scare the customers away!” Another woman bustled out of the bakery, her scolding tone softened by the warmth in her bright blue eyes.
Amy pushed away from the wall with a soft laugh, color pinking her cheeks. “Sorry, I can’t help it, it’s not often I meet someone new in Craggstone.”
“That new husband of yours is a bad influence on you.” But it was said in jest.
I watched the exchange with a fascination that teetered on the edge of envy, the unfamiliar emotion swelling up inside of me and threatening to tear its way out. In the form of big, fat, ugly tears.
“I’m sorry, I have to go. It was nice meeting you,” I blurted out, turning away. What was it with me and the waterworks lately?
“Oh, God, I really am sorry! Please don’t leave upset,” Amy cried out, twisting her hands in distress.
“Please come inside and stay a minute. We don’t bite, I promise,” the other woman added.
Swallowing hard, the only emotion running through me now was one of embarrassment. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“Oh, please. It happens to the best of us. I’m Connie, by the way. I own this fabulous bakery, and you’ve already met my assistant, Amy.” Gently taking me by the elbow, she steered me into the warm store, settling me on a stool behind the counter. “Coffee? Tea? A glass of water?”
“Water would be great, thank you.”
Accepting the offered glass, I took a grateful sip, the lump in my throat gradually dissolving. I glanced around the quaint store, taking in the delicious looking pastries and cakes hidden behind polished glass. Cream walls and gingham soft furnishings completed the store-come-living-room homely charm. “I can’t believe I’ve never come in here before,” I mused, taking a deep sniff of the sweetly scented air.
“I can’t believe it either!” Amy quipped, flashing me a grin. “Connie, here, makes the best pastries in town.”
When Connie didn’t deny the accolade, I couldn’t stop the burst of laughter.
“Can I get you something to eat?” Connie asked, gesturing at the filled to brimming glass cabinets.
The sheer variety of choices threatened to overwhelm me, let alone the fact that I didn’t know the name of most of the pastries in front of me. “No, I’m fine. Thank you.” Though I resolved to pop in on my way back to Smithrock and pick something out. Maybe grab something for Lizzie, too. Gathering together my courage, I turned to Amy. “Connie said something about you being newly wed? Congratulations.” I tucked my hands under my thighs to hide my trembling fingers.
“Yes, though I wouldn’t call it new anymore. A couple of months, now.” It was said with a dreamy smile and a satisfied glint in her eye.
“Pfft. You wouldn’t be able to tell by watching the pair of you! Loved up and oblivious,” Connie commented. “Amy’s husband is the Sheriff of Craggstone, maybe you know him?”
“Ryan Everson,” Amy added.
“Everson?”
Connie’s eyes narrowed at my outburst. “Interesting. Which one do you know?”
“Jack. But I don’t know him.”
“Jack…Doctor Jack?” Connie patted her chest, faking a swoon. “Now that’s a man I wouldn’t mind giving me a physical.”
I blinked at her. “And that’s word for word what my friend said just the other day.”
Connie winked at me, a saucy grin on her face. “She has good taste, I’d say. A woman after my own heart.”
“But your heart belongs to another Everson brother.” It was Amy’s turn to admonish, with a sly smile.
“And you best be keeping your nose out of it,” was the fired back retort.
“Interesting,” I quipped, then slapped my hand over my mouth, mortified I’d actually said it out loud.
At their peals of laughter, my hand slid from my mouth and back to my lap. Grinning back at them, I wiggled my eyebrows at Amy. “My friend said that there’s five brothers. Two of them are taken—” I’d almost said mated, remembering at the last moment that Connie might not know about shifters. There I went, assuming the two women were human… “—and three are still available. There’s Jack.”
“Ralph and Max,” Amy finished, her emphasis on the first name not going unnoticed. Connie gave her a playful shove in return.
“Ralph…not Ralph’s Steakhouse?”
Connie’s answering groan, and the twinkle in Amy’s eye, was enough to tell me that I’d hit the nail on the head.
“Max is still in the city, where Jack was up until a few months ago. So, what’s he like? All I get out of her is that he’s not as hot as his brother, which is obviously not true.” Connie’s change of topic was as good as a neon sign saying subject closed.
Taking the hint, I considered the question. “I don’t really know him. He seems really nice. Kind and caring.” Seeing their disappointed looks, I couldn’t stop myself from adding, “I should know more by the end of today.”
“Why?” It was a chorus of eager anticipation.
Either Craggstone was really boring, or these two had an ulterior motive. It didn’t matter either way, since I’d already decided I really liked the two women. If a little bit of detective work was what it’d take to have an excuse to come back, then I could do that. “I’m heading over to the clinic right now to do some training.”
“Training?”
“First aid.”
Both women nodded, as though it were an obvious explanation. That they didn’t ask for more information had me breathing a sigh of relief. I wasn’t ready to explain my living circumstances quite yet, and wanted to remain anonymous for as long as possible.
“You’ll stop in on your way home?” Connie queried, flicking a cloth over the already sparkling counter.
“Definitely.” Glancing at the clock, I leaped from the stool. I was late. Dammit! Calling goodbye, I sprinted out of the door. So much for arriving on time and perfectly composed. Jack would have to make do with me out of breath and disheveled.
But, it was worth it. I’d finally identified the unknown emotion inside of me. It was happiness.
Chapter 7
Jack
Buried behind a pile of paperwork, I checked the clock again. Ten minutes had passed since my last glance, and still no representative from the Smithrock pack.
I didn’t have patients today, having cleared my schedule at Tarq’s request, and was whiling away the time catching up with the bureaucracy that was the health care system.
I’d give them another ten minutes then I was heading out. Plenty of my patients required house calls, and I was trying to convince myself that Catherine wouldn’t mind another visit so soon. Then I remembered, Lottie was having nightmares, and I hadn’t spoken to Monica about it—I had been distracted by the monumental event of finding my true mate.
There. I had my excuse to visit Smithrock again. And eight more minutes to go until freedom.
Come on, come on, come on… Drumming my fingers on my desk, I shuffled the paperwork until it looked like I’d made progress, something I was certain Mrs. Salisbury would be checking first thing in the morning.
If my secretary and office administrator for the clinic had been a shifter, she would have been a dragon. Diminutive in stature, her pale blonde hair was always pulled up tight in a bun, she ran the clinic with an iron fist and a loving heart. Since her husband had passed on, the clinic was her life, and anything that threatened it’s wellbeing had better watch out. Including me.
Four minutes to go.
Grabbing my jacket off the back of the chair, I shrugged it on. Striding from my office, I flicked off the coffee maker.
The front door swung open.
I clamped my mouth shut as my bear roared his frustration inside my head.
Catching sight of red hair, my breath caught in my throat. “Gina?” It came out on a croak.
“Sorry I’m late! I hope you all didn’t wait for me,” she blurted out, bursting into the room in a flurry of movement.
“You’re not late.”
A line formed between her eyes. “I am late.”
“It doesn’t matter.” You’re here, was what I wanted to say. But didn’t.
“Okay…” Her frown deepened as she glanced around. “We’re doing the training here?”
She’s here for the training! “You’re the Smithrock representative?”
“Uh huh.” Her eyes widened as she took in the empty room. “Where’s everyone else?”
A whole day. Alone with her. “Thank you,” I muttered under my breath.
“Sorry?”
“Nothing. There’s only us.”
“No one else?”
I detected a hint of panic in her voice, but she was keeping it under control. “Tarq put in a special request, and I only ran the last session a month ago.” I didn’t add that I had only planned on running it once a year, since first aid certification in Craggstone wasn’t in high demand.
“Oh.” She hovered by the door, looking like she’d bolt at any sudden movement.
“Coffee?”
She blinked at me, her brown eyes wide and unseeing.
I made a split decision. “Follow me.” Giving her as wide a berth as I could, I grabbed my doctor’s bag from the side of the door and headed out.
Two seconds later she stood next to me on the sidewalk, the color returning to her cheeks and pinking them back up. “I’m sorry. I—”
“Don’t apologize to me, you don’t need to. Ever,” I added gruffly. “Why don’t we go for a walk and talk. Get to know one another?” I swept an arm out in front of me, crossing my fingers that this would work.
When the glimmer of a smile tugged her lips at my old-fashioned manners, I released the breath I’d been holding.
“So, where are we going?” she asked, as we strolled down Main street at a snail’s pace.
“You’ll see,” I murmured, coming to a stop outside the grocery store. “Do you have any training at all?”
“None.” It was said with regret.
“Good. No bad habits to unlearn.”
“Really?”
I bit back the grin that threatened at the first sign of the woman within, the woman unhindered by fear or regret or nerves. “Yes, really. A lot of it is instinct, the ability to keep a clear head under pressure. The skills I need to teach you are simple, really, and a lot easier to learn if you’re new to it.”
She bit her bottom lip, rolling the flesh into her mouth and sucking thoughtfully. “React to each situation individually, you mean?”
“Yes, exactly. With no preconceived diagnosis. You have to evaluate each person on a case by case basis, considering their symptoms both individually and as a whole.”
She shook her head, but I could tell I had her attention. “This seems awfully complicated for a first aid course.”
It was a little more in-depth than was usually taught, but I had a different way of doing things. I didn’t want to turn out people who could stick a band aid on a cut and bandage a burn, I believed that if you took on the responsibility of caring for the public, they deserved the best possible treatment. “Healing the obvious wound is a given, but seeking out the underlying cause…that’s where we can really make a difference.”
Opening the door, I ushered her into the store. “Mr. Colne, good morning!” I called out.
“‘Morning, Doc,” an elderly man answered from his seat behind the till. “I wasn’t expecting you today.”
“And I wasn’t planning on stopping by, but I have a lovely new assistant for the day and I wondered if you’d mind if I used your case for teaching purposes?” I knew he wouldn’t, he’d like the attention from a young woman as pretty as Gina. Mr. Colne was a softie when it came to the ladies.
“Naw, ‘course I don’t! Ask away.”
I turned to Gina, nearly losing my nerve at the look of sheer panic in her eyes. “The first thing you have to do when you have a patient is talk to them. Everything starts there.”
She swallowed, her throat working as she rocked back on her heels.
I’d pushed her too hard. “Don’t worry—”
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Colne.” She stuck her hand out, grasping the older man’s in a firm shake. “Maybe you’d like to tell me what your problems are?”
The older man’s smile widened, revealing a startlingly perfect set of teeth. “You see, I’ve had a pain in my chest, right here—” he thumped his chest with a veiny fist, “—and my legs have been shaking. I’m not as strong as I used to be, but I’ve always been able to get up the stairs. But lately it’s been a struggle.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She frowned, her brown eyes warm with compassion. “Are you getting enough to eat? Fresh fruit and vegetables?”
“My diet is fine, I’ll have you know!” The older man sounded peeved, crossing his hands over his chest.
Rather than flinching, as I half expected her to do, she leaned forward. “Did you hurt your arm recently?”
“Yes. Just a little. It’s nothing to fuss about.”
“Then you won’t mind if I take a quick look?”
Reluctantly, he held out his arm.
With gentle fingers, she pushed up his sleeve, revealing a bright, white bandage. “You did this?” she murmured to me, over her shoulder.
“Yesterday,” I admitted.
“Can I take it off?”
“Go ahead.”
Winding carefully, she peeled off the dressing to reveal what laid beneath. “It certainly looks sore, Mr. Colne. Can I ask how you hurt yourself?” Peering at the ugly burn, she deftly started to wrap it back up again.
“I fell over in the kitchen. It was a stupid mistake, the pan was at the front, though I could have sworn I’d put it on the back burner. Scalded myself.”
“Would it be okay if I had a look at your kitchen?”
Her question surprised me, though it really shouldn’t have. She’d already delved deeper into the case than most trainees did, asking intelligent questions that probed the surface.
“Sure, why not!” Mr. Colne blinked at her, before flashing her a sly smile. “Bring me back a nice cup of coffee will you, sweetheart?”
Patting the older gentleman on the shoulder, she nodded. “Of course I will.”
Following her into the kitchen, I leaned back against the counter, watching as she spun around in a slow circle. “What are you thinking?”
“Pain in his chest, wobbly legs, knocking over a pan.” She ticked off the symptoms on her fingers, looking from the stove, to the small wooden table, to the doorway, then back again. All signs of previous nerves had vanished; she was completely absorbed in her task.
Staying silent, I waited.
“He could have stumbled and knocked the pan over, given that his legs are weak. Or his chest might have hurt and he could have grabbed the stove to steady himself.” It was said in a musing voice as she stroked a hand over the scarred wooden table surface.
Come on, Gina. I mentally willed her on.
She turned to me. “Has he been up to the clinic for tests?”
“Yes, his blood pressure is high, but his heart is strong.” But I’d already known that. I could hear the steady, rhythmic thud resonating from the older man’s chest.
“Then his blood pressure is most likely causing the weakness and pain in his chest.”
“Most likely,” I agreed. “He’s due to go for
more tests, but he’s putting them off.”
“Not surprising. The visit up to the hospital would be a big deal for him.”
“Which is why I want to grow the clinic. But, for now, he has to go to the city.”
“The burn is clean and well wrapped. It should heal well.”
She wasn’t going to make the leap. I shouldn’t feel disappointed; this was her first case.
She shook her head slowly, her eyes losing focus as she concentrated. “He didn’t remember where he’d put the pan.”
“Well done.” Satisfaction roared through me at her pleased expression.
Smile fading, she slumped back against the stove. “Dementia?”
“Or old age. But, either way, we need to keep a close eye on the old boy.”
“I should be happy, I mean, I passed your first test, right? But all I feel is an immense sadness.”
Taking a chance, I moved over to her, taking her hand in mine. Squeezing, I let her see that she wasn’t the only one feeling helpless. “Whatever it turns out to be, we caught it early. Knowledge is power, and forewarned is forearmed. He’s not alone, he has people watching over him.”
“And I’m going to be one of them.” There was the backbone I’d always known she possessed, the glint of determination and compassion unmistakable in her eyes.
Reluctantly letting her hand slide from mine, I gestured at the old kettle. “Didn’t you also promise coffee?”
Chapter 8
Gina
The door closed behind us with a soft click.
“I’ll say it again, Gina, well done.” He sounded sincere, his voice not patronizing in the least, but a quick glance at his face confirmed it.
Shrugging away his praise with a self-depreciating chuckle, I matched my stride with his, following him into his office. “Is it bad that I enjoyed that?” Not waiting for an answer, I plowed on, “It is, isn’t it? Mr. Colne isn’t well, and all I can think about is that I’ve not felt so alive in such a long time!” Groaning, I scrubbed a hand over my face, shame welling up inside of me. “I’m such a bad person!”
