sister,” Doc explained to April. “I hope you like it here and stay, Miss Asbury. We need someone to keep Doc on his toes.”
“I plan to stay as long as he wants me. I’ve burned my bridges behind me, so to speak.”
After Corbin had left, Doc picked up his bag. “I’ll be gone for an hour or two if anyone asks for me.” He was out the door before she could ask any questions.
April didn’t have time to think about Doc’s sudden departure. As he left, George Belmont came into the office.
“Where’s Doc goin’?”
“Didn’t say. Come into the surgery and let me look at your hand.” George pulled his hand out of his pocket and followed her. He sat down and placed it on the table. April brought supplies from the cabinet and looked closely at the wound. “Stitches are ready to come out.” She was surprised when he withdrew his hand from her touch.
“Not until you say you’ll go to the picture show with me tonight.” He grinned cockily. She had already noticed that he had recently shaved and was wearing a clean shirt.
“That’s blackmail,” she said with pretended shock.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t buy it. Give me that hand, or I’ll give you a shot that will lay you low for a week.”
“You’d do that?”
“You can bet your boots I would. I put those stitches in and I’m taking them out.”
“I don’t suppose you’ll come to the ballpark and watch me pitch in the tournament?”
“You’re not pitching with this hand, George. If I catch you, I’ll take a willow switch to your backside.” April continued to talk while she snipped the stitches and pulled them out with the tweezers. “I thought a grown man would have more sense than to try to pitch horseshoes not more than a week after he almost sliced his hand in two.”
A smile spread across George’s face. It delighted him to have this pretty young woman fuss over him. Lord, he knew that he didn’t have a chance with her, but the fellow who did would be a lucky son of a gun.
“Be careful and don’t pop open that cut, because if I have to stitch it again, I’ll use the dullest needle I can find.”
“What do I owe you?”
“One dollar. Stop back in a day or two.”
“You wantin’ to see me again, little sweetie?”
“Of course. You’re the cutest thing I’ve seen in a mighty long time. I just love your big blue eyes.” She batted her lashes at him.
“They ain’t blue. They’re brown.”
“Oh, so they are. I guess I’ve got you mixed up with the man who cut his foot.”
George was laughing and shaking his head when he left the office.
Dr. Forbes was thankful he had made his escape without having to tell Nurse Asbury where he was going. He could have made up some lame excuse about somebody being sick or injured, but sooner or later the lie would have caught up with him.
I hate the lying, pretense and conniving... but dear God, what else can I do?
He drove to the edge of town and then turned north on the river road, relieved that it was hard-packed clay and the rain-water had run off into the ditch alongside it. The road was slick but passable. He had driven on it under these conditions before. He drove slowly and carefully until he reached the lane leading to the house. Then he pulled the car onto it just far enough to park it off the road.
With a large paper sack in one arm, Doc walked along the grassy edge of the lane to the house that sat amid a thick group of tall pines. It was a small cabin with a cobblestone chimney. Flowers were planted in a round bed in front, and pots of flowers lined the steps leading to the porch. White curtains fluttered at the windows.
The door opened while he was toeing off his muddy shoes. A slim young woman stood there. Doc sucked in a deep breath, and his heartbeat picked up speed. She wore a faded gingham dress and, on a face the color of ripened wheat, a broad smile of welcome. Her features were delicate and her amber eyes large, clear and shining. Thick dark hair was held
“I plan to stay as long as he wants me. I’ve burned my bridges behind me, so to speak.”
After Corbin had left, Doc picked up his bag. “I’ll be gone for an hour or two if anyone asks for me.” He was out the door before she could ask any questions.
April didn’t have time to think about Doc’s sudden departure. As he left, George Belmont came into the office.
“Where’s Doc goin’?”
“Didn’t say. Come into the surgery and let me look at your hand.” George pulled his hand out of his pocket and followed her. He sat down and placed it on the table. April brought supplies from the cabinet and looked closely at the wound. “Stitches are ready to come out.” She was surprised when he withdrew his hand from her touch.
“Not until you say you’ll go to the picture show with me tonight.” He grinned cockily. She had already noticed that he had recently shaved and was wearing a clean shirt.
“That’s blackmail,” she said with pretended shock.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t buy it. Give me that hand, or I’ll give you a shot that will lay you low for a week.”
“You’d do that?”
“You can bet your boots I would. I put those stitches in and I’m taking them out.”
“I don’t suppose you’ll come to the ballpark and watch me pitch in the tournament?”
“You’re not pitching with this hand, George. If I catch you, I’ll take a willow switch to your backside.” April continued to talk while she snipped the stitches and pulled them out with the tweezers. “I thought a grown man would have more sense than to try to pitch horseshoes not more than a week after he almost sliced his hand in two.”
A smile spread across George’s face. It delighted him to have this pretty young woman fuss over him. Lord, he knew that he didn’t have a chance with her, but the fellow who did would be a lucky son of a gun.
“Be careful and don’t pop open that cut, because if I have to stitch it again, I’ll use the dullest needle I can find.”
“What do I owe you?”
“One dollar. Stop back in a day or two.”
“You wantin’ to see me again, little sweetie?”
“Of course. You’re the cutest thing I’ve seen in a mighty long time. I just love your big blue eyes.” She batted her lashes at him.
“They ain’t blue. They’re brown.”
“Oh, so they are. I guess I’ve got you mixed up with the man who cut his foot.”
George was laughing and shaking his head when he left the office.
Dr. Forbes was thankful he had made his escape without having to tell Nurse Asbury where he was going. He could have made up some lame excuse about somebody being sick or injured, but sooner or later the lie would have caught up with him.
I hate the lying, pretense and conniving... but dear God, what else can I do?
He drove to the edge of town and then turned north on the river road, relieved that it was hard-packed clay and the rain-water had run off into the ditch alongside it. The road was slick but passable. He had driven on it under these conditions before. He drove slowly and carefully until he reached the lane leading to the house. Then he pulled the car onto it just far enough to park it off the road.
With a large paper sack in one arm, Doc walked along the grassy edge of the lane to the house that sat amid a thick group of tall pines. It was a small cabin with a cobblestone chimney. Flowers were planted in a round bed in front, and pots of flowers lined the steps leading to the porch. White curtains fluttered at the windows.
The door opened while he was toeing off his muddy shoes. A slim young woman stood there. Doc sucked in a deep breath, and his heartbeat picked up speed. She wore a faded gingham dress and, on a face the color of ripened wheat, a broad smile of welcome. Her features were delicate and her amber eyes large, clear and shining. Thick dark hair was held
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