“Just spending time with me, myself and I.” She considered telling Nina about the Bluebird and needing a judge to vote her way, but remembering this morning’s run, she decided to try for a real impartial judge, one who would actually make a choice based on what would benefit Tall Pines the most.
“See you, then.” She took off her white jacket, hung it behind her door with the stethoscope and walked out through the empty waiting room, feeling like a girl playing hooky. The sunshine convinced her to walk down Main Street to Jackie’s Country Kitchen. She eased around a large crowd gathered in front of the town’s new art gallery and peeked inside Purl’s Place to see an amazing rainbow of colorful yarns.
“Wonder if Hailey’s been here.” Her young patient would love the knit shop. So many rainbows to choose from.
A flier that invited everyone to come in on Saturdays for free knitting lessons caught her eye, so she stopped to consider it for half a second. Then the rumbling of her stomach convinced her to get back on task.
The Country Kitchen was crowded already. She waved at Jackie, a small man with a giant personality, and slid into a booth in front of the window that looked out over the busy sidewalk.
“Hey, Doc, didn’t expect to see you here today,” Jackie said as he slid a menu in front of her. “Things slowing down?”
“All work and no play, you know?” Elaine smiled up at him and could tell by his blank look that he had no idea what she was talking about. Maybe she needed to start a support group for workaholics in her new free time.
Only if her plans for the Bluebird fell through, of course.
“Okay, I’ll have a hamburger, French fries and the coldest Coke you can find.” She slid the unopened menu across the table.
“Woo! You must be celebrating or something. The last time you were in you had salad with a side of salad.”
Jackie was gone before she could give him a list of the benefits of red meat. The rest of the lunch had less nutritional value, but a lift to the spirits could not be overlooked.
And she loved hamburgers.
So there.
She pulled out her phone and flipped through her emails to make sure there was nothing requiring her immediate attention. Then she realized she was still working even while she wasn’t in the office and put it back in her purse to stare out the window.
She had to start sketching out a plan. She’d been spending her precious free time on DIY projects. Those would help her in the long run, but it would take more than mowing the grass to win.
Sitting here in a Tall Pines mainstay made her wonder what sort of plan would be best. Maybe a tearoom and small inn would be less improvement than Dean’s fishing camp. Spring Lake was supposed to have some of the finest fishing in the state.
No one said she couldn’t do both: renovate the inn and update the docks.
Except she had zero interest in docks, unless they were for sitting on at the end of a long day.
What else could differentiate her plan? Going back to the way things were might not be as impressive as starting something new.
“Looks like you’re hard at work,” Jackie said as he slid her plate in front of her next to a beautiful icy Coke. “Lunch is on me.”
Before he could race off to the next customer, Elaine said, “Hey, wait, Jackie.” Giving away lunch? Everyone knew there was no such thing as a free lunch at the Country Kitchen. Jackie ran a tight ship. Service was fast. The food was good. Anyone who said otherwise could easily find themselves facing a lawsuit.
Her first day in the clinic, Nina had warned her about Jackie, but they’d never had any problems. She’d also never been offered a free burger.
He wiped his hands on the pristine towel hanging at his waist. “Busy, Doc.”
“Why’s my lunch on the house?” Elaine sipped the Coke with a happy sigh. Empty calories tasted so good.
“For working Mona in last week. She’s been having real trouble with her shoulder, but that shot you gave her worked wonders.” He didn’t smile, but something around his eyes made her think she was seeing a pleased Jackie. “I hate watching her in pain.”
Mona had come in complaining of an ache in her shoulder, the result of an old injury they’d been discussing and watching for a few months. The cortisone shot had given her some relief. “Well, any doctor would have done the same.” Elaine squirted a puddle of ketchup on her plate. “Not that I don’t appreciate the thanks.”
“My Mona deserves the best, and I’ll do whatever I can to get it for her.” He snapped his fingers at Ralph and motioned at her drink, the one she’d taken three sips out of. “Need a refill over here.”
Ralph smiled as he brought her a second glass, and Elaine wondered how many would line the table before she got up. Then she decided she didn’t care.
Jackie scanned the diner’s tables and then took a step closer. “You aren’t going to close the clinic if you buy the Bluebird, are you?” He tapped the table. “That would be an awful thing.”
“How did you hear that?” The French fry in her mouth might have made it hard to understand but Jackie probably had a lot of experience translating.
“Edna was in here crowing she was going to be a judge for the ‘handsome’ photographer.” He swiped the clean towel across the spotless table and rolled his eyes.
“Handsome in a rough-around-the-edges kind of way, I guess,” she murmured while she considered the possibilities. She still needed a judge. Jackie had never been afraid of making enemies in town, so he might even be willing to go against a hometown boy in order to come down on her side, the doctor who’d helped his beloved wife.
Jackie’s support could be the edge she needed.
Before she could figure out a way to test the waters, Jackie bent to whisper, “Heard he might even be planning to open a restaurant. Know anything about that?”
Instead of immediately debunking the rumor, Elaine took a bite of her burger and chewed while she watched Jackie cross his arms and tilt his chin up.
“Probably serve down-home favorites like this burger, things fishermen would order after a long day out on the lake,” Jackie muttered. He squinted as if he was trying to peer inside her brain to determine the answer.
Playing fair was hard, especially when she was handed such a golden opportunity. Elaine doubted that the idea of a restaurant had ever crossed Dean’s mind. And if Jackie had seen the state of the kitchen, he’d understand that, too.
The way Jackie hovered near her table made it clear he wasn’t leaving without some kind of answer.
Elaine shrugged. “Wonder how many people would actually come all the way into town if there’s a closer choice.”
None of the restaurants in Tall Pines would want more competition.
“Of course, in my plan, the tearoom would serve mostly snacks, maybe some pastries...things to tide people over between trips to town, where they can find real, solid meals.” She watched his wheels turning.
“What’s he know about running a restaurant anyway?” Jackie picked up his towel and shoved it into the waistband of his apron before he pointed at his trophy case. “Thirteen trophies. All of ’em saying I’m the best chili cook in town. For sure he doesn’t have any of those.”
“Not yet.” Elaine peered at him over the rim of the glass.
When Jackie’s jaw tightened, she decided she’d pushed hard enough for one day. Win or lose, she still had to live with herself when the whole thing was decided. “I don’t suppose you’d help me, would you? Just imagine, the Bluebird would be the draw it used to be with a tearoom for families and no new restaurant.”
“Kids these days... Think they’ll be interested in a quiet spot on the lake with no gaming systems or surround sound?” Jackie rocked back on his heels. “Got my doubts, Doc.”
He made a good point. Just because she’d loved
it didn’t mean other kids would, especially now. “What about their moms and dads? Maybe the quiet is what they’re looking for. You know, quality family time.”
His lips flattened. “Got the feeling you’re stringing me along for some reason.”
“Maybe you could help me come up with a solid plan, one that will attract families to Tall Pines.” She needed a judge. Having someone like Jackie in her corner, a known winner even if he wasn’t always popular, could be her secret weapon.
“Ain’t gonna be easy, but I figure you and me can come up with a real winner.” He held out his hand, and Elaine shook it firmly. “On one condition.”
Elaine started to argue, but his stony face convinced her to wait. “I want to be involved at every step. You make sure my name goes in the newspaper article. That newspaper man will be certain to have his nose in this business, and I gotta keep my eye on him all the time.”
Elaine thought about explaining that was actually two conditions, but she didn’t want to argue with the man who made the juiciest hamburger in town. “No problem, Jackie. I feel good about this.”
“You should.” He gestured toward the trophy case again. “Got a proven track record.”
The cheery song he whistled as he went behind the counter had everyone in the diner turning to stare. He wasn’t known for his happy-go-lucky spirit, but something had put him in an agreeable mood.
“Like this hamburger has definitely improved mine.” Elaine glanced around to make sure no one had heard her and then polished off the rest of the burger and every single fry on her plate. Maybe she’d add an extra lap on the trail to cover the calories. Every day this week.
And next week, too. She emptied her glass and pulled out her wallet to leave a generous tip before she slid out of the booth.
Strolling back to the clinic, she passed Purl’s Place again. More than once she’d heard Edna mention hanging out there.
Elaine was certain Jackie could be counted on, but what if she could win over Dean’s judge before the competition even got started?
Maybe it was time for a brand-new hobby: knitting.
CHAPTER NINE
DEAN LEANED AGAINST the window frame and looked out over Spring Lake. The sunrise had barely started inching up over the mountain, and it had been a long time coming. Apparently, a couple of successful nights didn’t mean his problems had disappeared. This dream involved flashes of gunfire and the crazy race across the desert. He’d been crammed into the backseat with three other Americans who were being evacuated when rebels took Mosul. His translator had fled at the news, and the wild voices around him had been impossible to understand.
In dreams everything was chaos except for the pounding fear in his brain, panic that this would be the time he didn’t make it out.
Except he had.
The change of nightmare scenery from the roadside bomb explosion and the ringing in his ears that made it impossible to think was almost a relief.
He was still waiting for his heartbeat to match his carefully regulated breathing.
If there was a universal scene of peace, this view of Spring Lake was it. Nothing moved outside his window. He might have been completely alone in the world except for the feeling the house had when someone else was in it. Elaine had come in late after her office hours, waved at him from the porch and disappeared.
Now at least he wasn’t alone. If it all got to be too much, like when he couldn’t catch his breath or get his pulse to slow, he could find her.
She would help him.
He wasn’t alone.
The thought made the band constricting his chest ease.
They were competitors, but Elaine’s steady concern made him think she’d never refuse a request for help.
For the first time since these panics started making every night a misery, he pulled out his phone and thought about calling his father. They were on the same continent at least.
Instead, he squeezed the phone tightly, relieved to have a second option if he had to make a call for help.
“Fresh air. Maybe that will help.” Dean yanked a shirt over his head and escaped the walls that were too close with a quick trip down the stairs. He fumbled the lock on the front door but finally managed to get it open. After stumbling over the threshold, he bumped one of the rocking chairs. The rhythmic creak was loud in the silence. Cursing under his breath, he closed his eyes while he waited for the lights to come on inside or for his housemate to yell sleepy insults at him. When nothing stirred inside, he propped his hands on his hips, counted to ten and listened to the croaks and faint rustlings that surrounded the lake at night.
He shoved aside the twist of disappointment that she’d slept through his accidental alarm.
Thanks to the lightening sky, he could see well enough to navigate the yard. He needed to get to the dock. The thought made no sense, but focusing on a goal helped.
Instead of dangling his feet in the water, he paced back and forth, desperate to get control of the fear and anger and disgust that took turns beating him up every night.
Impatience flared up to interrupt now and then because he should have handled this by now.
“Are you considering jumping in?” Elaine asked from the top of the hill. “I wouldn’t. Lake monsters might get you.”
Speechless, thanks to the stupid wave of relief that swept over him, he watched her carefully maneuver down the hill. When she grabbed his hand and tugged him down to sit next to her in their usual spots, he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
The cool breeze stirred messy curls, and he was so tempted to smooth them away from her face.
“No need to apologize. I’ve always been a light sleeper, a solid plus for medical residents.” Then she turned to face him. “Want to tell me about it?”
Pretending he had no idea what she was talking about would be ridiculous, especially when he’d hoped she would wake up and keep him company. “Nightmares. That’s the part of the job they don’t warn you about. Sure, you might die.” He took a deep breath and studied the dark line of the mountains against the sky. “Or you might have to live with what you saw for the rest of your life.”
Instead of trying to cheer him up or say the right thing, Elaine moved over to rest her shoulder against his, a silent sign that he could talk or not, she was fine with either.
And that made it easier to say what he needed to say. “War zones where kids are killed playing in the streets. Refugee camps where innocent people are suffering, and no one knows about it unless we go and tell the story. But there’s always a story to tell.” When the sting of tears showed up, he got even madder. “I’m not there now. I’m here, safe and sound in this cozy small town with its neat streets. I ran away. Nothing bad can touch me here. Why do I still have those nightmares? How do you stop fighting even though the memories eat you up inside?”
Elaine put her hand on top of the fist he didn’t even realize he’d made and squeezed. That was all. She sat there next to him, her touch a connection he needed to calm down and just sit still for long enough to come back to Spring Lake.
“Aren’t you glad you insisted on moving in?” His harsh laugh sounded all wrong. “Nursing the resident insomniac through bad dreams.”
She didn’t answer, just turned to look at him, her face peaceful in the early morning.
“Now would be the time for some excellent advice,” Dean muttered, anxious for her to say he was going to be fine. He would be. He had to believe that.
“I don’t have any,” she said. The regret was clear in her voice. “I don’t know what you’ve gone through, and I can’t tell you how to stop the nightmares. It makes sense to me that you have them, so don’t beat yourself up over something you can’t control.” She bumped his shoulder with hers. “If that’s part of your issue, just let it go. Anyone who cared about othe
rs and saw what you did would have nightmares. That’s normal.”
“No prescription, then?” Dean closed his eyes and rubbed the ache in his chest. She didn’t think he was broken, and there was no “get over yourself” in her voice. More important, she didn’t tell him she knew what he was going through. But to her, he was still okay.
“No. Except...” She sighed. “Do you feel guilty for surviving? That’s what it sounds like.”
“What? Of course not,” he snapped. “It’s just a job, not a...crusade or something.”
“You said ran away,” she reminded him. “That sounds like you don’t think much of the decision to come home.”
When he could feel the anger boiling up again, he took a deep breath. Taking it out on the only person on the planet who could sit next to him and listen was a terrible idea.
“I didn’t decide. I was sent home. There’s a difference.” He tried to take comfort in that fact. And he sometimes wondered if that was the only way journalists could leave that job behind.
“Do you know how many people will go to war zones? Not many. When I first started, journalists enjoyed some thin protections, but now...” He shook his head. “You can’t count on any mercy in most places.” Her shoulder brushed his again. “But I’m good at it, at finding the story. And it’s a sickness, checking the headlines, looking for updates on places I’ve been or feared I’d go next. Do I have the right to step back, to whine about nightmares, when there are still so many stories to be told?”
He expected her to make some comforting noises, explain that of course he had the right to a happy, safe life.
Didn’t everyone? And that was where his guilt doubled down.
Instead, she said, “I can’t sit on the end of this dock for ten minutes without the urge to be useful, busy kicking in. I feel guilty about taking the day off for a shopping trip. I worry that someone will need me and I won’t be available, and then how will I feel if my selfishness injures someone else?” She turned her head. “I don’t understand what you went through, and our jobs couldn’t be more different, but believe me when I tell you that I understand how responsibility makes it hard to rest.”
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