by CM Foss
“Uh, oh yeah. I was just looking to get something to eat.” I sounded like an idiot.
She looked at me, clearly exasperated. “There’s a jar on the table. Just leave money for whatever you want. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m in the midst of delivering a baby.”
She spun away from me, and it took me a split second to register what she’d said.
“You what?” I demanded, automatically pushing in after her.
I turned the corner to see her kneeling on the concrete floor next to a very pregnant, very close-to-not-being-pregnant-anymore woman. There were bath towels and paper towels spread everywhere and a box of rubber gloves set to the side. When she noticed me, she hastily draped a towel over the laboring woman.
“What are you doing?” she snapped.
I shoved her aside and went straight into doctor mode, dropping to my knees beside the woman, taking her pulse and asking her questions about her due date and overall health. Blondie watched silently with narrowed eyes.
“You done?” she snapped. “Because I think Angela’d like to have this baby and stop answering all your inane questions.”
I glared at her. She didn’t sound like someone I’d imagine was from around here, with no hint of a Southern accent. “They’re valid questions. And what the fuck do you think you’re doing? Why haven’t you called an ambulance? This is atrocious.”
“Of course I called an ambulance, you asshat. But it takes like a half hour for them to get anywhere, and I’m just not sure the baby’s gonna wait that long. She’s already ten centimeters. And don’t say fuck around the baby.”
I felt my eyebrows rise in surprise. A lot of surprise. And not just at the ludicrousness of her last statement. “You’re a doctor?”
“No. I’m not.” She shook her head vigorously, and while she did, I tried not to think too hard about how she knew anything about centimeters. “I’m assuming you are though.”
A moan from Angela interrupted us, drawing our attention away from each other back to where it should have been. Though I still had concerns about how this girl knew about delivering babies.
“I don’t suppose you’re something useful, like a baby doctor, are you?”
I shook my head distractedly while counting on my watch. “No. Unfortunately.”
“Figures. You’d need to up your game in the bedside manner department.”
“Hey, listen, blondie…”
Panting heavily, Angela interrupted us. “You guys, I can’t hold on much longer. This baby really wants to come out.”
Blondie looked at me from beneath her lashes. “She would know. This is number seven.”
“Seven?” I asked incredulously, looking around in disgust. “After the sixth kid, how did you end up on the floor of a dirty roadside stand?”
The blonde dramatically rolled her eyes at me, but Angela laughed breathlessly. “This one definitely is coming faster than the others. I should have stopped at six.”
Despite how horrified I was at the circumstances of kneeling on the grimy concrete to deliver an infant, I had to laugh as well. “Well, Angela, I’m extremely uncomfortable with you having a baby like this, but since you’ve had more than I’ve delivered, I guess we’ll follow your lead.”
All sounds stopped when another contraction hit her, her knuckles turning white as she gripped blondie’s hand. Angela groaned as it let up, relief washing over her face. She looked over at blondie and nodded. “I really wanna push.”
Blondie smoothed the hair soothingly out of Angela’s perspiring face. “Okay, let’s…”
“Just breathe,” I interrupted, taking my own deep breaths for her to mimic.
Suddenly, we heard the loud rumble of an engine growing closer and gravel spraying under tires. I didn’t miss the relief on everyone’s features. Blondie smiled down at Angela, who was gritting her teeth. “Now that’s what I call good timing. I was ready and willing, but this is better.”
The two paramedics tramped in and got right to work, sparing no introductions. Blondie stepped around to comfort Angela by her head, but I stayed at her side, keeping track of her pulse and breathing.
I was almost overwhelmed by what followed. The pain, the strain, the exertion. And the raw beauty. The yelling, the moments of tense silence, the gasps of breath. Everything was amplified, the unfamiliar sounds bouncing off the metal and concrete. I was used to the beeps and whooshing of medical machinery, to being surrounded by nurses and other doctors, the oppressive heat of my own breath behind a mask, the rustle of paper gowns and technical speak.
The Southern accents, the dirt, the nerves, the fucking T-shirts. It was all unsettling to me. Blondie was impressive, keeping calm and whispering to Angela, helping her to tune out the three men surrounding her lower half. My eyes were continually drawn to her, the way she would sweep the damp hair from her brow with her arm, the way she wasn’t afraid to throw herself into the circumstances. She never winced or grimaced or shied away.
Who the fuck was she?
Time seemed to speed up as the noises intensified, the sounds blending together, and, miraculously, Angela delivered a perfectly healthy baby boy. They were checked over and cleaned up the best the situation would allow, and before long we were standing at the back of the ambulance as they settled in to leave.
One of the medics walked around the back where blondie and I stood.
“Thanks, Ivy.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. I noticed with interest how she stiffened briefly and then pasted a bright, phony smile on her face.
“You’re welcome, Matt,” she said in a strangely cheerful yet dismissive way. “Just doing my good deed for the day.”
Her bubbly tone and high-pitched voice confused me, because quite honestly, she’d only been sassy and kind of bitchy to me.
Also… Ivy. It suited her.
Ivy
I waved as the ambulance drove off, relieved to see Matt go. He was still clinging for some unknown reason. But then I was left alone with Doctor McStick-Up-His-Ass. Sure, he was hot. But he was wearing designer jeans, loafers, and what used to be a clean, sharp-looking button-down shirt. On a driving trip. I saw his car. It was packed full. And it was polished, shiny, brand new, and expensive. Very out of place around these parts. What was he doing, stopping at every car wash along the way to wipe her down? I let my eyes wander over him, down and back up while he watched me with some level of amusement.
Finally, I pulled off my gloves and stuck my hand out.
“Ivy,” I said.
He looked down at my hand, and for a minute, I thought he was going to balk.
Instead he grinned at me, cocky as it was, and encased my fingers in his palm warmly. A small shiver ran down my spine and my thighs automatically clenched together. Whoa.
“Patrick.”
I cocked my head to the side, tamping down the sudden desire with fake nonchalance. “Huh. That suits you.”
He raised a brow. “How’s that?”
I shrugged my shoulders. I couldn’t explain. It just did.
“Um, can I get you a new shirt?” I looked down at myself and grimaced at the sight. “’Cause I need one pretty badly. Come with me. We have some in the back.”
I didn’t have to look to see if he was following. I could feel it.
“So do you work here?” he asked as I rustled around in a box for shirts that would fit.
I stood and tossed one his direction. “It’s a community stand. A bunch of us just drop off various items for sale.”
His brows furrowed and he looked around, his gaze falling on the jar of money. “And people just pay? Like the honor system? What if things get stolen?”
I shrugged. “As long as no one steals the pens, I don’t care. I’d figure they needed it pretty badly, though it’s never happened. Bu
t it’s shitty when the pens get taken.”
He let out a sharp bark of laughter. But it was true. I’d hunt those bitches down.
“How do you keep track of the money?”
“All the money gets donated, so it doesn’t matter.”
“Wow. That’s… really kind of impressive.”
I grinned at him. “It is, isn’t it? It was my idea.”
I walked into the small bathroom to change my shirt quickly behind closed doors. I blew out a long breath as I took that moment to unwind and compose myself. I hadn’t delivered a baby since med school, and that close call today was… a lot to take in. I could have done without it. Throw city doc out there into the mix, and I needed a drink. Glancing in the mirror, I looked at the wreck that was my face. I was flushed, dirty, and wet. And not in a good way. But aside from sweeping my hair into a fresh pony tail and splashing a little water on my face, there wasn’t much to do about it.
Satisfied that I was at least more presentable than a minute ago, I swung the door open and caught a glimpse of said doctor pulling his new T-shirt down over a set of impeccable abs. As my mouth watered at the sight, I also had to laugh at our matching green shirts sporting the phrase Play with your food.
“Where’d you get those?” I asked, brazenly wiggling a finger his direction. I had to ask. I hadn’t seen anything like that… maybe ever. There’s a depressing thought.
“Excuse me?”
“Most doctors I’ve ever seen don’t have middles that look like yours.”
He glanced down. “Uh, I go to the gym. And I run.”
“Ah. Factory made.”
“No.” He sounded a little offended. “I work at it.”
“Well, either way, city doc, you look better in a T-shirt.”
He looked down at himself again.
“Do you have something against people who live in a city?”
“Not really. I just don’t think they know what it’s like in the real world.”
He bristled visibly. I could practically see the stick in his ass twisting. “And you do? Is this the real world?”
I stared at him for a moment. “About as real as it gets.”
“Well, I’ll have to take your word for it. As it is”—he looked at his watch and groaned, rubbing his hands over his face—”I’m really late.”
“Why don’t you stay the night?” I offered, the words bubbling out of my mouth before my mind caught up.
He blinked slowly and raised an eyebrow. “Here?”
“No.” I snorted as I looked around what was essentially a hut. Did he think I was slow? “At my place.”
He still just sort of stared at me. “Oh… uh…”
“I run an inn. I’m not propositioning you,” I clarified. “Don’t be so full of yourself.”
“Oh.” He looked, and sounded, relieved. I wasn’t sure if I should be offended or not. I mean, I wasn’t overtly slutty, but it was nice to feel wanted sometimes. “Well… I don’t know.”
“Come on. You look like you need to see how things work out here. You’ll have fun and you’ll get some rest. I mean it’s work, but I think work is fun, don’t you?” I didn’t wait for his answer. “You can be on your way in the morning, and I don’t have to worry about you falling asleep at the wheel.”
He cocked his head. “I just finished my final year of residency. I can stay awake for days.”
I bit my lip. “Yeah, all the more reason to stay.”
I could see him thinking on it, and I could see when he decided to say yes. Guy had the worst poker face ever. Every emotion was completely readable.
“Good. Follow me.” I gestured for him to follow, and he did but while shaking his head and muttering something under his breath.
What on earth was I thinking?
Chapter 4
Patrick
I followed her down winding roads that were cut between mountain passes, hugging one side of the lane so my car didn’t bottom out over the crown on the gravel. She was driving a huge Ford truck and going way faster than I wanted to drive, spraying dust all over my brand-new paint job. Something about the situation made me think of my clothes. Maybe I did wear designer too much. It was hard not to in Dallas. You had to go out of your way to find regular clothes. It was that or Target. Plus my mom shopped for me most of the time.
That was bad, right? I probably shouldn’t admit it, but my mom is awesome.
Soon we turned into a driveway between two stone pillars with script carved into the side. The Green House. It was a stately entrance, with an old plantation feel to it. But the rest was artistic and oddly functional. On either side of the driveway, the fencing was an organized jumble of branches woven together between posts. It was a sort of chaotic beauty. At first glance, you thought it might topple over in the wind, but on closer look, it was the strongest and most substantial fence I think I’d ever seen.
I tore my attention from my study of the twisted limbs, giving myself a mental shaking to figure out what was so fascinating about it. Maybe just because it was new… different. To me, anyway.
The drive took us up toward the house, forming a circle in front of the large stucco building. It was big, white, and rectangular, with rows of uniform windows framed by black wooden shutters. If it’d been sitting by itself somewhere, it would have looked sterile and cold. But with big trees framing it and ivy—the plant, not the person—creeping up the walls, it had a ton of old-school charm. Really old school.
Ivy—the person—pulled around the back of the house where the driveway split off. I followed her around, and we parked in a large gravel lot. By the time my car was turned off, she was out of her truck and waiting. A fluffy Australian shepherd came bounding around the corner. It looked like it was about to leap into her arms, but instead it quickly dropped to its haunches at her feet, practically vibrating with need for affection, which she dished out in abundance. I couldn’t help but watch her just long enough get a good look without seeming really weird. There was just something about her. Something that drew me to want to… study her. All right. That did sound creepy, even in my own head. But she didn’t quite fit out here. She was so young and intelligent and… hot. She was standing and waiting for me, no hint of impatience on her face. In fact, she was… serene. But also filled with an energy I couldn’t describe. And just gorgeous as she removed the rubber band from her hair, releasing it from its knot at the back of her head. It cascaded around her in layers of waves, reaching almost to the middle of her back. It was stunning, and I wanted to wrap it around my hands and feel its weight. And it was probably the most impractical hair to have while living out here. Why she was living on a farm in the middle of nowhere was beyond me.
I groaned when I unfolded myself from my seat, stretching upright. Hours in the car were taking an embarrassing toll on my body, making me stiff and sore. I grimaced at the dirt caked onto the wheels and gently nudged a little off with my toe.
Ivy watched me with raised eyebrows and a crinkled nose. “You okay there? You seem a little young to have that reaction to sitting in a car.”
I stiffened. “I’ll have you know I was in a rather life-threatening car accident a few years back. I still get sore.” And it was true. I was hit by a drunk driver when I was in my early twenties and had broken… a lot of bones.
“Ah, makes sense. You should try acupuncture.”
She gestured for me to follow her as she walked away from the house and toward a large wooden barn, the dog trotting on her left side. As I did, a fleeting thought ran through my head—that I’d always be following her. It wasn’t a bad view.
“That’s not the usual reaction people have,” I mentioned.
She glanced over her shoulder at me. “What sort do they have?”
I shrugged. “A lot of ‘I’m sorries’ and s
ympathy, mostly.”
“Well, did you die?” she asked matter-of-factly.
I rolled my eyes behind her back. “No. Clearly.”
“Then why are they sorry? People use that word too much.”
She was kind of right.
“Besides,” she continued, “I have a feeling you use that as more of a line, anyway.”
I started to laugh to myself. She was kind of right again.
She traipsed around the barn, down a path leading toward some back fields lined with board fencing. Over the top board of the entire place ran a thin wire cord. Solar chargers indicated it was electrified. My sister and her husband trained horses, so while I was definitely not country, I’d seen some stuff over the years. I knew the front end of the horse from the back, and I could even lead them around, so long as they followed. That was pretty much the extent of my knowledge though.
Around the back of the barn were some smaller fields. Goats, sheep, chickens, and pigs grazed in different areas, and they all ran over when Ivy walked up. Including the chickens. She crouched in front of each field to scratch the heads of the animals, even petting some chickens. I stood back and watched as one of the goats playfully reared up and gently head butted her. Every time it stood, Ivy would throw her hands out to the side as if inviting it to ram her. Then she’d throw her head back and laugh with abandon when it would rub alongside her hip. Lucky goat.
Well, there was a new thought.
She started introducing me to all the animals, and I didn’t even try to keep their names straight. Even a couple of the chickens had names but apparently only the ones that had lived there a while. She said they had to prove their intelligence for a name by not getting eaten by a fox for a certain period of time. I guess there was some form of logic there.
Finally she turned to the dog that had been waiting by the fence.
“And this girl is Dimple.”
