Bishop Ridge

by Cate Ashwood

  I’d planned to work overtime, but if Logan’s proposal was better than slogging it through extra days on the rig, I was all ears.

  “You wanna come here?” The way his words wavered, just slightly, made me think he was nervous, and that hit me right in the chest. “Like I said before, Sawyer’s Ferry isn’t exactly a hub of excitement, but it’s bigger than Belcourt.”

  “You want me to come visit you?”

  “Well… uh… I mean, yeah, but not if you don’t want to. I know—”

  “Getting out of here for a few days does sound good.”

  “Perfect. And you could stay for a few days? I mean, if you don’t have plans and you want to do something for Thanksgiving…” Half a beat passed. “With me?”

  He sounded almost nervous, and it made me inexplicably happy. “Not many other people in Sawyer’s Ferry I’d drop everything to see, and no, no plans for Thanksgiving.”

  “It’s totally hokey, but Sawyer’s Ferry does a festival on the day before. We could go if you want to. It’s nothing major to write home about, but most people in town at least pop in.”

  I’d never been a community kind of guy. The three friends that had seemingly hooked on to me was the largest social circle I’d had, and none of it had been something I’d gone after.

  “Sounds fun.”

  “Good. Listen, I gotta run, but come whenever you want.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Yeah.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Tomorrow. If I’m not there, just let yourself in. It’ll be unlocked.”

  I hung up and considered what had just happened. I was going to stay with Logan for a few days, and I couldn’t decide if it was a big deal or not.

  Ultimately, I was looking forward to seeing him, but it was getting to the point where I was having a hard time still calling it a casual hookup. There was no denying spending a holiday with someone, staying over at their place for an extended period, and meeting their friends was not exactly a recipe for detachment. At the same time, the thought of it gave me something to look forward to. I hadn’t particularly wanted to spend my Thanksgiving eating Mama Gianni’s alone in my place, and the overcooked turkey and soggy stuffing at the cafeteria on-site didn’t seem any better.

  I decided that, whatever happened, I wasn’t going to worry about it. It had been a long time since I’d spent a holiday with anyone—the last time was probably when Allen Lawson’s mom invited me to their Easter egg hunt when I was in the fourth grade.

  So, I wasn’t going to think hard about this. I couldn’t question it, because I was breaking my own rules. This was a fling for him too. I knew that. And that was how it had to stay.

  I was just going to go enjoy being with Logan for a few days, enjoy the endless orgasms and food that would undoubtedly be better than anything I could make, and I much preferred the avoidance approach, pretending that nothing beyond the walls of my house mattered, not even time. And inside, life was stripped down to the basics.

  Eating. Sleeping. Fucking.

  The rest was just noise, and nothing I wanted to listen to much right now.

  It was nice, keeping things this simple. I had no idea what would happen once real life butted in, but being with Logan felt good.

  It felt so fucking good.

  The trip down to Sawyer’s Ferry was uneventful. It started snowing halfway there, but what was a few more inches of snow on top of what was already piled a foot and a half up?

  I had a good truck with better snow tires, and so driving in the winter in Alaska wasn’t as treacherous as it could have been.

  I found the turnoff for Bishop Ridge more easily this time, though it looked entirely different since it had dumped snow. Like something off one of those Christmas cards old ladies seemed to prefer, it was picturesque, the snow untouched.

  I drove slowly along the driveway since it hadn’t been plowed, well, maybe ever, and when I pulled around the main house to Logan’s place in back, I found his truck parked there, snow heaped high on top.

  He opened the door before I had made it halfway to the steps, my jeans covered from the unplowed walkway.

  “Sorry,” he said, as I stomped my feet on the front porch. “I meant to shovel that before you got here, but I got preoccupied.”

  “It’s fine. Trust me. I’ve trudged through worse.”

  He shook his head as he stepped to the side, as though he’d just now remembered to let me into the house. “Come in. Get warm. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Coffee?”

  “Irish?”

  “I’m not gonna say no to that,” I replied, toeing off my boots and leaving them on the mat to dry. “I forgot how impressive this place is.”

  Logan beamed with pride, as though he’d built it himself. “Thanks. I knew I’d be here forever, so I figured I might as well make it exactly what I wanted.”

  “Even the name is solid. Who has a name for their property?”

  He laughed. “The name came with it. Bishop was the guy who founded Sawyer’s Ferry, and this was his property a few hundred years ago. None of the original buildings made it—I think there was a fire that wiped them all out—but whoever had it after him rebuilt and kept the name.”

  “Sticking to tradition. I like it.”

  “Take off your pants,” Logan ordered.

  I laughed. “Nice segue. I like where you’re going with this, though.” I grinned, waggling my eyebrows at him.

  “That too, but we should throw them in the dryer. No one delivers this far out, and I didn’t have a chance to hit the market yet, so the house is barren of food, and we’re going to need to eat at some point.”

  I stripped out of my jeans and followed Logan into the tiny laundry room where I dumped them in the dryer.

  “You gonna make me walk around your house in my underwear while you’re fully clothed?”

  Logan laughed. “I’d planned to.”

  “I don’t think so.” I pulled him into my arms, holding him tight as I kissed him for the first time in weeks. He tasted so good—even better than I remembered—and I let my eyes fall shut as I got lost in the feeling of being close to him. All too soon, the kiss ended.

  “If you get me into bed now, there’s no way we’re leaving the house tonight, and I think you’ve underestimated how empty my kitchen is.”

  “You know where I could get some protein—”

  Logan laughed, his head tilting backward. “Not sure there are enough nutrients to sustain us for what I have planned.”

  “Fine.” I took half a step back, reaching out to unbutton his pants. “At least gimme a good view while you’re making me coffee.”

  “What am I, your 1950s housewife?”

  I laughed. “I wouldn’t say no to a pot roast or an apple pie on top of the irish coffee.”

  “You can let Rosemary know.”

  “Who’s Rosemary?”

  “She owns the diner we’re going to for dinner. I’d take you to Whisky J’s, but it’s Thursday, so Bud is on the grill and everyone knows not to eat there when he’s cooking.”

  “If everyone knows he can’t cook, why does he still work there?”

  Logan shrugged. “Because he’s always worked there. And Jane would never let him go over something like that.”

  “She wouldn’t let him go for not being able to do his job?” I laughed. “That makes no sense.”

  “One of a thousand things here. You’ll see on Wednesday.”

  “That’s the festival, right?”

  “Yeah. Thanksgiving around here is a little different from the rest of the country. Black Friday in Sawyer’s Ferry consists of Jerry at the dry cleaner giving everyone the friends and family a 5-percent discount. And that’s about it.”

  “No stampedes through any of the stores for discounted TVs, then?”

  “I’m not even 100 percent certain you could buy a TV in Sawyer’s Ferry. Most people have their things shipped in or go out of town to shop for the bigger stuff.”

/>   “Belcourt’s the same. Not easy sometimes.”

  “There’s plenty to hate about Sawyer’s Ferry, but there’s lots to appreciate too. The people here are… well, they’re like family. Kinda dysfunctional, but you love them anyway. I dunno. There’s just something about living in a small town, and maybe it’s because I was born at SFRH. I’ve got roots here that were missing when I left. One of the reasons I was so happy to come back, I guess.”

  He almost spoke like he was trying to sell me on living in a place like this, but I’d never been as attached to a town as he seemed to be with Sawyer’s Ferry. I nodded as he spoke, but I really couldn’t relate. I didn’t have a hometown, a place where I came from. I was a nomad—it was how I was raised, and I’d never known any different.

  “So, other than the festival, what’s the plan for the rest of the week?” I asked, changing the topic.

  We hadn’t gotten too far into my past, and I figured I should probably keep it that way. There were only two people who were qualified to know much about where I came from. One was my brother, but talking to him about anything was a ship that had sailed ages ago. The other was a licensed therapist, but considering the one and only time I’d ever set foot in an office belonging to one I’d almost been carted away on assault charges, it wasn’t something I cared to repeat.

  “I got tonight’s shift covered so I can spend it with you, but I’m on call tomorrow. I’ve got Netflix and Hulu, and lots of DVDs if you’re feeling old-school.”

  “Can I hang out with you at the hospital?” The question came out of nowhere. I wasn’t incapable of being alone. Spending time in Logan’s place without him didn’t feel weird to me, but I wanted to see him in action again in a medical setting.

  “If you want to. It’s likely going to be a boring night, and if things pick up, it’s still going to be boring for you because you can’t actually get in on the action without breaking HIPAA laws. I could look into getting you clearance for the day, but that’d be a lot of paperwork for both of us for you to watch me taking out someone’s ingrown toenail.”

  “No, thanks, I’m good. If it’s skull-numbingly boring, I’ll peace outta there.”

  Logan chuckled. “And find yourself something more exciting to do in the hopping metropolis that is downtown Sawyer’s Ferry.”

  “Nah, I’ll come back here. Kick it ‘old school’ with your DVD collection.”

  He pushed me. “You mocking me?”

  “I would never.”

  “It’s just one night and then the festival Wednesday, and then we’re doing Thanksgiving at Gage and Holden’s place Thursday night.”

  I didn’t know who these people were, but I figured I’d be meeting them soon. For now, I was more interested in how Logan and I were going to pass the time until then.

  Logan

  Thinking with my dick was bound to get me in trouble one day, and apparently, that day was today. When Jackson had asked to come with me to the hospital, my only thought had been hanging out with him, and maybe getting him alone—and naked—in the on-call room.

  I’d momentarily forgotten that a million other people worked at SFRH and they would all wonder why I had a hotter-than-sin tagalong trailing me around for the evening.

  “Who’s your friend?” Nadia asked, her voice saturated with curiosity.

  “This is Jackson. Jackson, Nadia, one of the best ER nurses around.”

  “Nice to meet you.” She smiled warmly at him before switching her attention back to me and slipping seamlessly into work mode. “Mrs. Drury is back for her cast removal. I’ll get the room prepped.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be there in a minute.” She headed off in the direction of the triage desk, and I turned to Jackson. “Duty calls, but you’re free to stay here, or I can set you up on the on-call room. There’s a TV in there. Or you can hang out at the nurses’ station in the ER.”

  “Is that where you’re gonna be?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then I’ll hang there if you’re good with that.”

  “Yeah, shouldn’t be a problem.”

  I gave him a quick preliminary tour of the hospital, hitting all the major points—best vending machine, least offensive coffee, single TV on the whole main floor that didn’t get spotty reception—before heading back to the ER. I showed him where to sit, the desk in the center of the room empty for the time being. The entire department was almost completely vacant, at least for now. We’d likely get a few more patients in as the night progressed, but the bulk of the visits would happen after the holidays.

  Nadia was back and just pulling out a magazine to read when we walked up.

  “Room’s ready for you, Dr. Baker. And Mrs. Drury is already in there.”

  “Thanks. You mind entertaining Jackson?”

  “Not at all.”

  Nadia was sweet. All of the staff were. We were incredibly lucky to have found a group that got along and worked together as cohesively as we did. It was cliché, but we really were like family.

  Mrs. Drury was waiting in exam room two, her arm propped up on a table.

  “Nice to see you again,” I said as I set her chart down.

  We made small talk as I removed her cast, half concentrating on what I was doing and half thinking about the man in the other room. Whether or not he was in the hospital, my mind had been on him for weeks. I couldn’t seem to get him out of my system, and I wasn’t entirely sure what to do about it.

  I finished up with the cast and sent Mrs. Drury home before heading back out to the desk. Dawn had arrived, along with Craig, and one of them had apparently brought in food.

  “You order one of everything on the menu?” I sidled up and stole the chair next to Jackson.

  “Just the stuff with high sugar or fat content,” Dawn said.

  “So yes, then.”

  She laughed. “I guess Rosemary doesn’t really know how to make much else.”

  “Doesn’t seem to. Not that I’m complaining.”

  “That’s the diner we went to last night, right?” Jackson asked.

  “That’s the one.”

  “That place was good.”

  “She cooks with as much butter as she does love,” Dawn said.

  “Whatever it was, I finished off my night a happy man.”

  He looked at me as he said it, his words dripping with innuendo, one eyebrow lifted just enough to drive home the double meaning. I stifled a laugh, mostly because I didn’t think my nurses would appreciate hearing all the dirty details of my night with Jackson, as much as I would have loved to relive them.

  No one else seemed to notice, though.

  It was getting later and so far, the ER hadn’t picked up at all. I was more than happy to have a lull in activity. Two nights earlier, the page I’d gotten while talking to Jackson on the phone had been for two patients brought in after a head-on collision. Car versus moose rarely ends well, and it had taken hours to patch the driver back up.

  I enjoyed that part of my job—not the people coming in as mangled messes, but the putting them back together gave me a rush that nothing else had ever come close to. I lived for that surge of adrenaline and the wave of serotonin and norepinephrine that made me feel like I was king of the fucking universe when everything was said and done.

  But tonight, I’d gladly have traded that high for a chance to sit around with Jackson and the nurses.

  When Jackson had asked to come to work with me, for just a moment, I’d been worried about introducing him to everyone. Jackson was a stranger, and as friendly as everyone in Sawyer’s Ferry was, sometimes it took a little while for them to warm up to new people.

  I shouldn’t have stressed about it, though. He’d been there a few hours, and it was like he’d lived there all his life. I was amazed that he managed to insert himself so seamlessly into the gang at SFRH.

  “All done with your rounds?” Nadia asked as I found them all clustered together behind the nurses’ station.

  “For now, yeah. I want to kee
p an eye on the white count for the patient in bed three. It was slightly more elevated than I’d have liked at last draw.”

  “You got it, Dr. Baker. I’ll put in the order for repeat bloodwork.”

  “Thanks.” I tilted my head toward the door. “Jackson, you wanna go get a coffee before I’m needed again?”

  “Sure, sounds good.”

  We did have coffee in the doctors’ lounge, and since Holden had arrived and insisted on spending pretty much our entire improvement budget on a machine that made fancy drinks, it was better than you could get almost anywhere in town. Still, I liked to go out to get my evening cup. It was a chance to get out of the hospital for a few minutes, and there was something about getting my coffee from one of the local businesses over a pod in a machine that appealed to me.

  Tonight, though, it was an excuse to go out with Jackson, even if it was just to walk to Cornerstone’s at the end of the block.

  He grabbed a table while I made small talk with the barista as she poured a latte for me and an americano for Jackson. When I turned to walk back to the table, Jackson was talking on his phone, his voice hushed, the expression on his face tense. I slowed my steps to give him some privacy, hanging back until he’d finished the call.

  “Everything okay?” I asked as I slipped into the seat next to him, placing our drinks down. I set my pager on the table next to Jackson’s phone and relaxed back into the comfortable chair.

  “Uh, yeah. Fine.”

  The stiff way he sat and the deep furrow of his eyebrows told me that probably wasn’t completely truthful, but I wasn’t going to push.

  “Thanks for letting me come with you tonight,” Jackson said, taking a tentative sip of his drink.

  “You’re welcome. I’d imagine you’re bored by now, though.”

  “Nope.” He shook his head. “Your coworkers are keeping me entertained with humiliating stories from your past.”

  I laughed. “I can only imagine.”

  Jackson set his cup down on the table. “Does it ever bother you that everyone knows every little thing about you?”

  “Sometimes, I guess. It was worse when I was an awkward teenager growing up here, worse still when it came out that I was gay. I was the talk of the town for a good six weeks—in fact, I think I hold the record for longest topic of gossip in Sawyer’s Ferry history.”