Her father eyed it suspiciously. “Hippie friend?”
“Not at all. Maya’s a police officer. Detective, actually. ‘No justice, no peace’ is very real for her. We’re lucky she’s here, she’s a great cop. Which takes a lot for me to say, giving the rivalry between police and—” He caught himself just in time. “Neurosurgeons.”
Her father looked puzzled, understandably, but just then a gust of wind made him stagger. “Well, let’s get on with this before it starts snowing.”
“My thinking exactly. I brought a little something to help with the cold.” With a quick glance at Bethany, Nate pulled a flask from an outer pocket of his bag. “How about some good old-fashioned bourbon to kick things off?”
“Now you’re making sense.” He took a swig from the flask and instantly looked happier.
Was this the right moment?
“Daddy, there’s something I want to tell you—”
Nate’s pager rang. He peeked at it, then shot Bethany an urgent glance. “I…uh…sorry, everyone, but I’m on call today. I have to go. You’re welcome to use my clubs.”
“That’s the problem with doctors.” Irritation threaded her father’s voice. “You never see me dumping a golf game for work.”
Nate stepped aside and called someone.
She should tell Daddy the truth now, while Nate was distracted. But now her father was grumpy again since his game might not happen. Crap, she just couldn’t catch a break here.
Nate beckoned to her and she stepped to his side. “There’s an emergency call on MacKenzie Ridge and I’m the closest one. I’m going to take my truck and head out there. Any chance you can assist?”
“What’s the case?”
“Old man who shot his toe off. You treated him before, I think. He got into it with a chainsaw this time.”
“What? Do you mean Mr. Bruner, the farmer? What happened?”
“No limbs severed,” he said quickly. “But he stubbed his injured toe on a stump while he was chain-sawing, then twisted his knee trying to avoid the running chain. Luckily he had his phone in his pocket. I could use a hand, and he knows you.”
“Of course. I’m very sad about missing the chance to kick your ass at golf, of course.”
“Anytime, babycakes.” He hoisted Maya’s golf bag onto his shoulder and they stepped back toward her father, who was impatiently checking his phone.
“Daddy, I’m going to give Nate a hand. Sorry to interrupt the game, but it’s a former patient of mine.”
“A hand with what? The man’s a brain surgeon, Tinkle. This is above your pay grade.”
She clenched her teeth, trying to let his dismissive attitude roll off her back. Was he ever going to acknowledge that she’d accomplished something worthwhile by becoming a doctor?
“Even so, he’s asked for my help. We’ll have to postpone the game.”
“No. He can find someone else to hold the bedpan or whatever it is that you’d be doing. Come on, Tinkle. I drove up here for a game and I’m getting a game.”
“Mr. Morrison—” Nate began.
But suddenly, she’d had enough. Or maybe it was suddenly after a long time coming.
She threw up a hand to silence Nate. “Don’t call me Tinkle,” she told her father. “I hated it when I was six and I hate it even more now.”
He reacted as if a kitten had just bitten him on the hand. “It’s just a nickname. For Chrissake.”
“No. It’s not just a nickname. It’s everything. I’m a doctor and I deserve some respect for that.”
“Sure, but as a neurosurgeon, Nate outranks—”
“Nate is not a neurosurgeon.”
Nate made a choking sound, but didn’t interrupt her.
“Excuse me?”
“He’s a firefighter and a rescue EMT. He needs my help because I’m a doctor and one of my patients just had an accident. This is exactly my pay grade. This is what I became a doctor to do. Help people with my skills and knowledge. Do you understand?”
Her father scowled at her. “No.”
“I have to go. Ready, Nate?”
She headed for the truck, marching right past Nate and his golf bag and his shell-shocked expression.
“Hang on a red-hot second there, missy.”
Uh oh. She recognized that voice. As a child, she used to literally run away and hide when she heard it.
“Or you— What’s going on here? Who are you?”
She turned back to see Daddy confronting Nate.
“I’m Nate Prudhoe. EMT.” Nate checked his pager again. “And I really have to go.”
“So you lied to us?” he demanded.
Bethany raced back and stepped between her father and Nate. This was her problem, not his, and he shouldn’t have to take the heat for it.
“Daddy, it was all my—”
Nate cut her off. “Let me say something real quick.” He addressed her father. “Sorry for making you think I was a neurosurgeon. If it helps, I do really care about your daughter.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Okay then.” He took a step toward his truck. “I’m done. Go ahead, Bethany.”
“This isn’t Nate’s fault. It was all my doing. I panicked and dragged him into this.”
“What exactly is ‘this’? Another lie? Another pretend boyfriend?”
She let out a gasp. “You knew about—”
“Of course I knew. It was obvious. Are you actually dating this one?” He jerked his thumb in Nate’s direction.
“Um…”
“Yes,” said Nate firmly, snagging her hand. “But right now we have a date with a patient who’s lying on the ground next to a chainsaw. If I could just say one more thing, Mr. Morrison. If you’re upset that she lied to you, maybe you should take a look at yourself and your relationship with your daughter.”
“The goddamn nerve—” Steam practically poured from her father’s ears.
“Later, Daddy. I’ll call you when you’ve calmed down.”
“I’m calm.” He kept his focus on Nate. “You. Was that actually your house? You’re just a fireman.”
“Daddy!”
Nate shrugged and strode toward his truck. “See you in the truck, Bethany.”
Bethany faced her father alone. With her feet braced apart, she dug deep for the spine she knew she possessed. She knew that because she used to shield Gretel from Daddy’s anger. All by herself.
“Yes, that is Nate’s house, and he’s a wonderful, heroic person who rescues people and is loved everywhere he goes. But you probably won’t see that because you’re so blinded by snobbery.”
Her father’s eyebrows drew together in one of his intimidating, scornful scowls. “My snobbery paid for your education.”
And there it was. The ultimate tool he used to control people. Money.
“Med school’s over. What are you going to do, take my degree back?”
Nate called to her from the driver’s seat of the truck. “Are you coming?”
Her father wagged a finger in her face. “If you’re so proud of your career, you take a turn supporting your sister.”
“What?”
“I’m tired of paying for Gretel to waste her life.” He stalked to his rental car.
Bethany hurried after him. “Daddy, think about this. You shouldn’t make Gretel suffer because—”
“Decision’s made.” He clicked the key fob. “Go be a doctor. You’re going to need that salary. Gretel’s just as high maintenance as her mother.”
Bethany gave up and ran to join Nate in the truck. He pressed the accelerator before she’d even finished closing the door.
“You okay?”
She took the question seriously, checking her body, her heart, her thoughts. Then she took a deep breath. “Yes. I’m okay. You?”
He reached over and took her hand. “Impressed and very proud of my fake girlfriend. I really know how to pick ’em.”
Chapter Twenty
At first Nate worried that the scene with
her father would be a distraction for Bethany. But he shouldn’t have been concerned. Although she didn’t say much on the drive out to the Bruner place, she was the ultimate professional once they arrived.
“House calls!” crowed the old farmer, who they found sprawled near his woodshed. “I must be important!”
“You’re very important,” Bethany assured him as she crouched next to his leg. “We ditched a golf game for you.”
“I see you found yourself one.” He gestured with his bearded chin at Nate.
Bethany turned pink, which Nate found very endearing, even though he had no idea what the man meant.
“Just in time for winter, too. My bones tell me the snow will fly by Halloween.”
“Halloween is in less than a week.”
“Why do you think I was chopping wood with a shot-up toe? Winter stops for no man.”
Together, they helped him into his house, where he kept a pair of crutches from his last injury. Bethany checked his toe and assured him it was healing fine, with no sign of infection.
“Want a ride to the hospital?” Nate asked him. “They can take an MRI of that knee. Chances are it’s a sprained ligament, but it’s good to know for sure.”
“Nah.” He waved that off. “Spent all my money on the toe. I know my knees. Some ice’ll do it.”
“You need to rest,” Bethany said sternly. “Can you get someone to stay with you for a while?”
“Yeah, I got a sister who can come out. We fight like stray cats, but she’ll do it.”
On the drive back to Lost Harbor, Bethany finally told Nate about her father’s threat about Gretel.
“If you’re worried about finances, you can always moonlight doing house calls to the homesteads around here,” Nate told her.
“I’m mostly worried about Gretel. She can stay with me, but knowing her, she’ll want to move on before long. She’s terrible with money. Daddy’s financial support is such a security blanket for her. I’m worried what will happen if that’s gone.”
“Want me to ask around about some work for her? What are her skills?”
“Well…she doesn’t have the best work history.” Bethany twisted her hands together in her lap. “She has a short attention span and gets easily bored. Singing gigs are perfect as long as it’s a night here, a night there, nothing long term. But I haven’t noticed a single jazz club in Lost Harbor.”
Her worry made Nate’s heart ache for her. He touched her hand gently. “Don’t you worry. We might not have any clubs, but Lost Harbor is pretty good at taking care of people. You’re not alone in this. I promise.”
She turned wide eyes on him. A sheen of tears gave them an extra shine. “That’s sweet to say. But I don’t even know if she’ll stay. Any minute now she’ll get a phone call from a friend and bop off to Greece for a cruise. People love her everywhere she goes, so she gets invited to so much glamorous stuff.”
He caught a wistful note in her voice. “So she’s the freewheeling one and you’re the responsible one. Is that how it works?”
“Nailed it.” She laughed ruefully. “That’s why I thought you and Gretel would hit it off. You’re both lighthearted and fun.”
“Yeah…no.” He shrugged as he made the turn onto the ridge above town. That first glimpse of Misty Bay and the Lost Souls Wilderness mountains on the other side always took his breath away. He took a moment to absorb the sight, noting the “termination dust” on the highest peaks—the first snow signifying the end of summer. “Sorry to screw with your plans, but I never looked at her like that.”
“I realize that now.” She cast him a puzzled glance. “But why not?”
Good Lord, if she didn’t understand by now, what would it take? “I guess my attention was already caught up with someone else.”
A slow smile spread light across her face. “Sweet-talker.”
“Truth-teller,” he corrected. “On that topic, since our fake relationship just got busted, what are we now?”
“Well…” She took a moment to think it over, while he held his breath. “Can we just continue on?”
“Don’t see why not.” He grinned over at her.
She scooted over on the bench seat and snuggled against his side. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and nestled her more closely into that perfect snug spot where she fit just right.
They drove the rest of the way like that, in a quiet state of dreamy relaxation, not speaking, just enjoying each other’s presence.
Halfway down the ridge, on one of the sharp downhill curves, a flurry of white crystal flakes swirled around the car. It was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “Was that snow?” Bethany asked with wonder.
“We drove through a cloud of frozen mist. It’s turning into rain now.” The cold needles of freezing rain drummed against the roof of his truck. “I need to switch to my studded tires. You should too.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“Well, you’re about to learn. Alaska lesson number one. You need two sets of tires for every vehicle, summer tires and snow tires. Some are on rims, some are not. You can either change them out yourself or wait in line at Aurora Tires with all the other people who waited until the last minute.”
She let out a sigh. “Maybe I’ll delegate this one to Gretel.”
“Nope. I got you. I might not be able to operate on brain tumors but I can change out your damn tires.”
A cold snap swept into Lost Harbor like a witch on a broom, trailing dramatic rafts of dark clouds and winds that moaned in the treetops. People took bets on when the first snow would fly, and swapped stories about October blizzards of years past.
Bethany had never lived in a town as small as Lost Harbor, and she still wasn’t used to people recognizing her in the grocery store. She ran into Abby Noonan —even more pregnant now—while shopping for Halloween candy.
“If you live anywhere near the hospital, you’d better stock up,” Abby told her cheerfully. “That’s the best neighborhood for trick-or-treating, so everyone brings their kids there. It’s kind of a point of pride for them.”
“Yes, I’ve been warned.” Bethany indicated her shopping cart, which she’d loaded with Fruit Roll-Ups and granola bars.
Abby peered over the edge, then crinkled her forehead. “Okay.”
“As a doctor, Halloween is kind of a moral dilemma for me.” Bethany looked at the jumbo-sized bag of peanut butter cups in Abby’s cart. “Besides, if I had those around, I’d eat them all myself.”
In a conspiratorial whisper, Abby told her, “Oh, that’s my secret plan. We live fifteen miles out of town and get maybe three trick-or-treaters a year. But hey, I’ll be ready.”
Bethany laughed and grabbed a medium-sized bag of Twix—something that wouldn’t eat at her conscience too much. “How are you feeling?”
“Oh, a lot better.”
“Did Ian—Dr. Finnegan give you the all-clear?”
“Who? Oh—no, we decided not to get into all that. I’ve been running around after the kids too much, that’s all. Like you said, exhaustion. Those fluids you gave me worked like a charm.”
Bethany wrestled with the urge to lecture her about ruling out something more dangerous. But she’d already said her piece in the hospital, and the truth was, the Noonans’ insurance might not cover a neurology consult. It was her decision. And conducting a conversation like that in the grocery aisle, where anyone could overhear, wasn’t appropriate either.
“I understand. Just please, take it easy. You have a lot on your plate, and it’s important to remember to take care of yourself.”
Tears filled Abby’s eyes. “I know, and when my husband is here, it’s so much easier. He just left for the North Slope, and I don’t know how I’m going to get through the next two weeks.”
Bethany put a sympathetic hand on her arm. Sometimes giving people medical treatment just didn’t seem like enough.
“You know, if you need help with the kids, my sister’s visiting and has some time on her
hands. She’s great with kids. She used to work as a clown at children’s parties.”
Abby wiped away a tear. “My daughter is afraid of clowns.”
“Well, she’s not always a clown…okay, she kind of is, in that she’s goofy and fun, and she has blue hair—anyway, here, let me give you her number.” Bethany scribbled Gretel’s cell number on a receipt and handed it to Abby. “I’ll tell her you might call. It’s up to you.”
“Thank you.” Abby tucked the receipt in her pocket without looking it at. “I’ll be fine. But that’s very thoughtful. You’re a really good doctor.”
Bethany waved off the flattery. “It’s nothing. I wish I could do more. But you know where to find me.”
“Handing out Fruit Roll-Ups?” Now Abby’s smile was back. The hormonal seesaw; Bethany had seen it many times.
“And maybe the occasional Twix.”
As soon as she’d hauled her grocery bags to her car, Bethany called Gretel. “Just to warn you, I gave your number to a patient, a pregnant woman with toddlers who could really use some help.”
“You’re pimping me out to your needy patients?” Gretel still had sleep in her voice at eleven in the morning.
“Call it rent.”
“What makes you think I’m staying long enough to pay rent?”
“The fact that you haven’t mentioned leaving?”
“Oh, right. Maybe because I can’t afford to leave. Daddy stranded me in Alaska. Can I go back to sleep now? Late night.”
Bethany frowned. Her sister sounded almost sad, which was unusual for her. Maybe it was because Daddy had left Lost Harbor without even saying goodbye.
“Where were you last night?”
“If I’m paying rent, doesn’t that mean you’re my landlord, not my big sister, and therefore I don’t have to tell you stuff like that?”
Bethany put the phone on speaker, propped it on the dashboard and drove out of the Safeway parking lot. “Technically, you never have to tell me stuff like that.”
“Good point.” She yawned. “Good night.”
“Wait! Before you hang up, will you dress up for Halloween and hand out candy with me?”
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