by A. J. Pine
“Got it!” she called out, the ladder wobbling below her.
“Whoa!” Delaney said, holding tight to the base. “Is this the same ladder Pearl fell from?” she asked, looking up as Charlotte climbed down.
She brushed her gloved hands together and then looked at her handiwork with a satisfied grin. “Not bad for a first-timer, eh?” she said to the other two women.
Ivy danced back and forth, her hands plunged into the pockets of her white down vest. “You…you haven’t plugged them in yet,” she said through chattering teeth.
Gone was the surprise heat wave from her early October visit. It felt like full-on winter now, especially as late afternoon turned to dusk. Not winter in NYC, where people got snowed in for days on end, but she still kind of hoped it would snow before she left. It had been years since she’d been in Meadow Valley for the holidays, and the place was as picturesque as a postcard when it snowed.
“What happens if I plug it in and it doesn’t work?” she asked.
Delaney and Ivy stared at her. “Wait, have you never put up your own lights ever? Like, even indoors?” Delaney asked.
Charlotte shook her head. “I’ve only ever lived in an apartment since living on my own, and holiday lights for one always seemed so—”
“Sad?” Ivy asked, her voice soft with pity.
Charlotte took off one of her gloves and threw it at her friend. “No!” she laughed. “I was going to say pointless.”
“Whoops,” Ivy said, wincing. She tossed the glove back to Charlotte. “My bad.”
Charlotte shrugged. “I guess I didn’t see the point of the lights if I was the only one who would see them.”
“The point is…” Delaney started, then strode to where they’d run an extension cord from the lobby through one of the front windows. Charlotte nodded, and Delaney plugged in the lights, the whole front of the inn now shining with bright white twinkling icicles.
All three of them gasped.
“That,” Delaney added. “That’s the point. Add some snow—and I mean real snow and not that one little dusting we had a few weeks ago—and we are looking at some serious holiday spirit, ladies.”
Ivy hooked one arm through Charlotte’s and pulled her toward Delaney so she could do the same with her. “Now can we get inside and warm up? I was told that if I helped string lights there would be warm, boozy drinks involved.”
Charlotte forced a laugh. “There’ve been warm boozy drinks all afternoon. Pearl’s having an Irish coffee and hot toddy reception in the lobby area until six. It’s her new Cyber Monday tradition. She figures if she can liquor up the guests, it’ll keep them from holing up in their rooms, shopping on their laptops.”
Ivy let Charlotte’s arm go and pushed open the inn’s front door.
“Do you mean I could have been sipping whiskey and coffee this whole time?” she asked as the other two women strode through. “And next year tell your gran to start this tradition a few hours earlier. Might throw a little extra business to some of the local shops.” She coughed. “Like mine.”
Charlotte felt a pang in her gut at realizing she likely wouldn’t be in Meadow Valley for the holiday season next year. She worked for a good practice with doctors who understood a family emergency. But still, she’d insist on working the holidays—Thanksgiving at least—as a show of good faith for the favor they did for her. She probably wouldn’t travel at all next year.
She sighed as they entered the inn where a small gathering of patrons and locals mingled in the small foyer, hands wrapped around steaming beverages. Pearl sat in her chair, a hot toddy in her hands, next to a small buffet lined with mugs.
“There they are,” she said as the three women approached. “My holiday decorator trio. What’ll it be, whiskey or whiskey?”
Charlotte reached for an Irish coffee while Delaney and Ivy both went for a toddy.
“There’s an extra plate of white chocolate cranberry cookies in the kitchen if you girls want some quiet.”
Ivy’s eyes widened over the rim of her glass mug.
“Are you sure you’re okay on your own for a little while longer?” Charlotte asked her grandmother, but Pearl waved her off.
“Chief’s in the kitchen making the next round of drinks. He’s not due back at the station until early tomorrow morning.” Pearl waggled her brows. “Which means…I’m not alone.”
Ivy winked at the woman. “Atta girl, Miss Pearl. Ain’t nothing like a handsome firefighter to keep you company.”
Delaney giggled, and Charlotte rolled her eyes. Not because she had any sort of issue with her grandmother and the company she kept—but because it had been three whole days since she’d woken up in Ben’s bed and then left him standing there naked and dumbfounded after she’d freaked out on him not once but twice.
And it had been radio silence ever since.
It was fine. Better, actually, because now leaving wouldn’t be so hard. There were no more blurred lines or assumptions about people staying in places that weren’t their home and…She needed to focus on the hot drink in her hand and to stop said hand from trembling every time she thought about Ben Callahan.
“You okay?” Delaney asked as they headed into the kitchen to grab that extra plate of Pearl’s cookies.
“What?” Charlotte asked. “Yeah. I’m fine. So fine. Totally fine.”
She wasn’t fine.
“What are we talking about?” Ivy asked, trailing behind them. “Oh, hey, Chief,” she said when she saw that Pearl’s companion was putting the finishing touches on two more Irish coffees.
He lifted them both in a gesture of cheers.
“Evening, Ivy,” the older man said. “Delaney. Charlotte.” He nodded toward the counter where the plate of cookies waited. “I’m guessing you’re looking for that. Knock yourselves out,” he added, then exited toward the lobby.
The three women made a beeline for the cookies, Ivy setting down her toddy and hopping up on the counter right next to them.
“I like a close human-to-baked-goods proximity,” Ivy said, snagging the first cookie and tearing off a bite. “STOP everything you two are doing right now.” She held out her partially eaten treat like it was a police badge.
Charlotte and Delaney froze, hands outstretched for their own cookies.
“I’m going to need to confiscate these along with my toddy and retire to the closest guest room,” Ivy added.
Delaney slapped her hand away and grabbed her own cookie.
“Nice try,” she said. “But you need to share.”
Ivy pretended to pout and went back to nibbling her cookie, clearly savoring it rather than devouring it.
“I was just asking Charlotte if she was doing okay,” Delaney added. “I mean, aside from kicking butt with your first set of holiday lights, you seem a little…off? This doesn’t have anything to do with Ben’s trip to the ER on Friday, does it?”
Charlotte gasped.
“Uh-oh,” Ivy said. “I don’t think she knows.”
“Wait. What?” Delaney asked. “I thought you and Ben— I mean, Sam didn’t say…”
“Wait…what?” Charlotte parroted. “I didn’t know. Emergency room? For what? How have I not heard about this? I thought news spread every time someone sneezed around here. And how do you two know but I don’t?”
Ivy shrugged. “Carter was there when they stitched him up. Said Ben made him swear on doctor–patient confidentiality that no one would hear about it. Of course, he did tell me.”
Charlotte scoffed. “Carter’s not his doctor. Plus, he’s my cousin, dammit. If there’s anyone he should have told, it’s his own flesh and blood, especially when I’m Ben’s…I’m…”
Delaney raised a brow. “This should be interesting. You’re Ben’s what? Because if you didn’t know about the accident, that means you haven’t seen Ben since Thanksgiving…” She paused for effect. “Or…the morning after, which means something is up.”
Wow. They hadn’t even taken their coats off yet, and
they were here.
“Is he okay?” Charlotte asked, her throat tight and that cavernous pit in her gut somehow twisting itself into a knot. The medical stuff she could handle. She at least needed to know that he was all right before the conversation veered back to the scary stuff—what Ben Callahan was to her. Judging by the way her insides were turning into a pretzel, she was not going to be able to bluff her way out of this one.
Delaney nodded. “He’s fine. But he’s going to have quite a scar right through that pretty right eyebrow of his. I guess he was working on the house, took a shortcut climbing through a window frame with his arms full and lost his footing. Caught his eye—or just above, luckily—on an exposed nail.”
Ivy winced. “Now that the cat’s out of the bag, I guess it’s okay to tell you that Carter said it looked pretty bad. Couldn’t believe Ben drove himself to the hospital. I should have told you,” she said. “I’m really sorry, Charlotte.”
Ben was alone. And had gotten hurt. Charlotte had to remind herself that in this context, he was just a patient. That was all they were doing, discussing a patient. A patient who was fine and who didn’t want her to know about the accident in the first place. So she tamped down the growing urge to march over to the ranch and see for herself that he was, in fact, okay.
“Did he get a tetanus shot?” she asked, working harder than usual to keep her voice even.
Both of the other women shrugged.
“Didn’t think to ask,” Ivy said.
“Yeah. Me neither,” Delaney added. “It’s pretty standard, though, in this sort of situation. So I wouldn’t worry about it.”
Charlotte set her Irish coffee on the counter and very calmly, very deliberately smoothed her hands over her coat.
“Well,” she said, then cleared her throat. “If neither of you can verify whether or not a tetanus shot was involved when there could have been some very dangerous bacteria on that nail, then it’s my duty as a doctor to make sure the proper measures were taken to ensure the patient’s well-being.”
Delaney rolled her eyes. “Or you could just admit that you care about him and that no matter what happened after Thanksgiving dinner, he’s important to you and you want to make sure he’s okay.”
Sure. She could admit all of those things. But that would also mean admitting that Ben wasn’t so off base for asking her to stay and that the real reason she freaked out was because part of her wanted desperately to do just that.
“Is he at the ranch today?” she asked, ignoring Delaney’s comment.
Delaney nodded. “He was in the dining hall with Luis and Sam when I left. But I think he was taking off soon for game night with his parents at Nolan’s facility.”
Game night. Shoot. She totally forgot.
She felt around in her pocket and found the keys to Pearl’s car.
“I need to go,” was all she said.
The other two women nodded.
“We know,” Ivy replied. “But we will give you hell for it later. Expect much adolescent teasing—but only because we’re rooting for you two. And you know, it’s okay to turn off that overactive brain of yours and think with this every now and then.” She pressed a hand over Charlotte’s heart.
Charlotte’s throat grew tight. Was it okay? Because right now thinking with that organ hurt. A lot.
Charlotte hugged them both. “Save me a cookie?” she called over her shoulder as she headed for the door.
“I can’t make any promises!” Delaney called in return, and Charlotte bit back a smile.
She pulled up to the dining hall right as Ben was getting in his truck, so naturally she parked perpendicular to the truck’s bed, making it next to impossible for him to reverse.
She flew out of the vehicle and up to the driver’s side, where he sat in the seat, the door still open.
“You know that’s not a parking spot,” he said evenly, his face not fully turned toward hers.
She cradled his cheeks in her hands and urged his full gaze on hers, then hissed in a breath.
“C’mon, Doc,” he said coolly. “I know you’ve seen worse.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, remembering when she first saw her grandmother post-surgery, lying helpless in that hospital bed. It was so much harder to pretend it was just a patient when it was someone she loved. And now here was Ben, his maddeningly perfect brow split into two uneven parts by a gash held together by dark thread, the surrounding skin slightly purple and bruised.
Wait…loved?
“Hey,” he added, interrupting her revelation, his voice gentler now. “I’m okay.”
When she opened her eyes, she could feel that her lashes were wet.
“Hey,” he said again, swiping a finger under one of her eyes. “I’m guessing you just found out. I didn’t think— I mean, I would have told you if…” He trailed off.
“If I hadn’t made you think I wouldn’t care,” she said flatly.
He shook his head. “No. Geez, Doc. No. I pushed when I told myself I wouldn’t. I asked you to do what was easiest for me, and that wasn’t fair. Not by a longshot. I might have confused a signal or two and thought I was on the right track, but it doesn’t change the fact that I messed up.” The corner of his mouth turned up. “Of course, you messed up pretty royally, too, running out on me like that.”
She threw her head back and laughed. It was either that or burst into tears. God she needed that, a break in the tension—and Ben’s forgiveness.
“You were right, okay? I tried to shut it off—the emotion part—because I wanted to save both of us from whatever is going to happen when I head back home. But I failed. Miserably.” She shook her head. “There isn’t an easy solution here. I thought I was saving us both by not prolonging the inevitable.”
He shook his head. “Nah,” he teased. “That solution hurt like hell.”
Her chest ached realizing she’d caused that hurt.
“Then we’ll make these last days count,” she said. She couldn’t stay, and she’d never ask him to leave. But this was better than wasting the time they had left, wasn’t it? “If you’re up for it,” she added.
He shrugged and gave her his most irresistible Ben Callahan grin—which was basically every Ben Callahan grin. “Only ’cause it’s you, Doc.”
She blew out a relieved breath, the cavern in her stomach almost all the way refilled. But there was something else missing. “If it’s all right with you, cowboy, I’m going to kiss you now.”
“What are you waiting for?” he asked. He slid out of the truck so they were standing face-to-face, his body pressed against hers. “I’ve been wanting you to do that for three days.”
She rose onto her toes and draped her arms around his neck. And when she felt his warm lips against hers, his rough stubble along her chin, she was home.
“This is better, right?” she said against him, not sure which of them she was trying to convince more. “Being together while we can and then…Do we talk about and then?”
Do we tell each other how we really feel?
Why was she still holding back?
“Doc,” he said, interrupting her. His hands slid down to her rear, and he gave her a gentle squeeze.
“Yeah,” she squeaked.
“I know this might be remnants of the old me talking, but I’m going to let it slide and kindly ask that we stop talking and keep kissing. We’ll get to the rest later.”
She nodded. “Just one more thing though.”
He groaned, but it was with a smile.
“Am I still invited to game night?” she asked. Maybe she couldn’t get the words out, but she could show him that despite whatever the future held, this wasn’t pretend for her anymore. Maybe it never truly was.
He let out a long, shaky exhale. “Why do you think I waited until the last possible second to leave? Give or take a few to kiss you senseless.”
“Okay, then,” she said, and did her best to kiss him senseless for every extra second they had.
When they enter
ed his father’s facility, they signed in at the lobby and then Ben led her straight to the game room. His parents were already there, his mom typing away at her phone while his father shuffled a deck of Uno cards, both of them sitting at a round wooden table.
In addition to the cards, there was an assortment of canned beverages on the table, along with a bowl of M&M’s.
“There you are,” the older woman said, rising to greet them. “I was beginning to worry you forgot.”
Ben kissed his mother on the cheek. “That was the old me, Ma. Sorry. Just had to tie up some loose ends at the ranch.” He pulled Charlotte in close. “And now I get to formally introduce you to Dr. Charlotte North.” He winked at her, and heat rose in her cheeks.
“It’s nice to officially meet you, Mrs. Callahan,” she said, extending a hand. But the other woman waved her off.
“Nonsense, sweetheart. It’s family game night, which means you get greeted like family. And please, call me Barbara Ann.” Then she pulled Charlotte in for the warmest hug she’d had since…she couldn’t remember when.
Charlotte sank into the embrace a little more than she should have. And maybe she should have let go a little earlier than she had. But God it felt good to simply let go for a few seconds.
She cleared her throat and backed away.
“Mr. Callahan,” she said as Ben’s father continued to shuffle. “We met briefly at the fall festival in October—and again at Thanksgiving. I was the one who took off in the middle of all the beautiful toasts?” She let out a nervous laugh.
He didn’t look up.
“Hey, Dad,” Ben said. “Charlotte and I—”
The older man held up a hand and shushed his son. “I need to concentrate, Benny.” Then he tapped his index finger against his temple. “Keeps me sharp. Keeps the memory…keeps…”
He looked up then, brow furrowed as he glanced from Ben’s mom, to Ben, to Charlotte.
“Benny?” he said. “When did you start growing facial hair?”
Charlotte’s heart sank. She slipped her hand through Ben’s and gave him a reassuring squeeze.
