Celebrate in Good Hope (Good Hope #22)

Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

“We did a magnificent job.” Roe stood back and surveyed their masterpiece. “If I do say so myself.”

The snowman, standing six feet tall, had a solid round base, a smaller midsection and a slightly elongated head.

Boone gave an approving nod. “Using the rocks for the eyes was a smart move.”

“The quarters were a good idea, but they didn’t stand out enough.”

“Agreed.” Boone’s gaze dropped to the nose. “I’m glad we had carrots. A carrot nose is a classic.”

“It’s slightly bent?—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Boone interrupted. “It’s a carrot.”

“I can’t believe you had red licorice.” They’d been strategizing on what to use for the mouth when Boone had suddenly remembered a package of red licorice in the cupboard.

“What can I say?” He shot her a wink. “I’m a kid at heart.”

They’d certainly frolicked like two kids as they’d rolled the snow into balls. Roe had accepted his assistance in putting the second ball on top of the base but had insisted it be a team effort.

Now, it was done. “It makes me kind of sad that?— ”

Something hit her in the middle of the back. Though she’d never been slow on the uptake, it took Roe a few seconds to figure out he’d thrown a snowball at her.

She whirled and saw Boone already forming a second snowball. This time, she was ready. She feigned left just before he let it fly, and it flew past her and hit a blue spruce. Growing up with three older brothers had taught her many skills, including how to hold her own in a snowball fight.

Staying mobile was the key. Moving made her harder to hit. As the snowballs came fast and furious, Roe zigged, then zagged, and tried to move in unpredictable ways.

She wished she had a stash of snowballs. The attack had been unprovoked, leaving her no time to build an arsenal. Scooping up a handful of wet snow, she quickly formed the mass into a ball and took aim.

Because of his injury, she avoided his abdomen and went for the head. When the snowball hit him, she did a little happy dance.

Big mistake.

His next snowball hit her in the belly.

Under heavy attack, she pretended to retreat behind the tree, luring Boone into an ambush when he came after her.

The skirmish ended with them both laughing and out of breath. Or rather, with her out of breath.

“This was fun.” It was the truth. Roe couldn’t recall the last time she’d played in the snow, or really, the last time she’d played at all.

He slung an arm companionably around her shoulders. “I wasn’t hungry before, but I am now.”

She looked up at him. “You made breakfast the last time. Why don’t you relax, and I’ll do the honors?”

Before she knew what was happening, he leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips. “Sounds like a plan.”

The smile remained on her lips. “What was that for?”

Boone’s dark eyes turned watchful. “I’m sorry. I should have asked before I did that. I’ve wanted to kiss you since last night. I got the feeling you wanted that, too, but still, I should have made sure. Did I misread?”

“No.” Raising up on tiptoes, she pressed her mouth against his cool, smooth lips and let it linger for several heartbeats. “You read the signals perfectly.”

To Roe’s dismay, there was no more kissing the rest of the day. Some might have said it wasn’t smart for there to be any kissing. After all, their situation was a very temporary one. Still, Roe wasn’t worried about getting attached. She’d been down this road many times before.

She knew there could be nothing substantial between them. Either she or he would be gone before anything could develop. That didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the time they had. And if that meant a few kisses, or maybe more, well, she would enjoy this time while it lasted.

On Monday, she showed up for a three-hour shift at Muddy Boots. The tables in her section were never empty. Once one set of customers got up, the table was quickly bussed, and more customers were seated.

Roe had found her rhythm. She enjoyed the busy pace and the tips. During December, servers wore Santa hats and red T-shirts with the Muddy Boots logo, which was a young girl wearing a raincoat and boots kicking up water. According to Helen, the wording on the shirts varied from year to year.

This holiday season, it was “Kicking up a Merry Christmas.”

Just wearing the shirt and Santa hat made Roe feel more festive. On the drive home that afternoon, she found herself humming Christmas carols while wondering how Boone’s day had gone.

He was a physical guy, used to working out and being constantly on the move. Sitting around and taking it easy didn’t come naturally to him.

His truck was in the garage when she pulled in, so that was a good thing—as was that no more snow had fallen.

If they’d gotten more of the white stuff, she would have worried all day about him taking the Beast out while she was working.

As she headed inside, she hoped he’d spent the day playing video games or doing laundry or something else equally easy on the body.

She found him in the kitchen, staring out the window. For a second, Roe thought he was watching the bird feeder that hung from the branch of a nearby tree directly in front of the window.

When Roe had first arrived, she’d taken it upon herself to buy a big sack of seeds to keep the birds fed.

Right now, a large dove sat perched on the feeder.

“I love doves.” Roe slipped into the spot at his side. “Or is that a pigeon? Is there a difference?”

“Huh?” Boone turned toward her as if realizing for the first time that she was home.

“Pigeon?” She gestured with one hand toward the window. “Or dove?”

“I don’t know,” was all he said as he refocused his attention out the window.

Was there something she was missing out there? Had she been so intrigued at seeing a dove that she’d failed to see something far more important?

Redirecting her gaze to the wider area beyond the feeder, Roe searched for whatever it was that so clearly had Boone’s attention.

Acres of snow-blanketed wilderness surrounded the cabin, and this view toward the back was no different. Evergreen trees with green spires reached for the sky, their snow-covered boughs a haven for birds and squirrels .

What am I missing? Roe cast a sideways glance at him.

His continued silence, solemn expression and pulled-together brows told Roe something was wrong.

Scanning the area again and still coming up empty had her asking, “What do you see?”

Once again, he turned to her. “I don’t see anything.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I chopped firewood while you were gone.” He winced. “My wound, ribs, whatever, are giving me some trouble.”

“You chopped wood?” She stared at him wide-eyed. “Are you serious?”

“We were running low.”

“I could have swung by the market and bought some.”

He made a face. “Not necessary.”

“It is when you’re not supposed to do any heavy work, and I have no desire to swing an ax.” She took a step closer. “Let me see.”

“See what?”

“Your wound.” Roe adopted the take-charge attitude that such carelessness demanded. “Pull up your shirt.”

When he hesitated, she put her hands on her hips. “There’s nothing you can show me that I haven’t seen before.”

His lips twitched.

“I meant that I have brothers. I’ve seen male chests before.”

“I know what you meant.”

“Just lift your shirt.” A thought struck her. “I assume you’ve already checked your incision.”

“I did.” He pulled the sea-green sweater up over his head, showing the gray T-shirt underneath.

Instead of removing that shirt, he grabbed the hem and raised it.

Roe wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but the eight-inch scar in the upper left part of his abdomen, just under the ribcage, didn’t cause her worry meter to spike .

She reached out to trace the skin beneath it, then thought better of it and pulled her hand back.

Roe lifted her gaze to find Boone intently studying her.

“It looks okay.” She offered a tentative smile. “So when you say the area is giving you trouble, do you mean it hurts?”

“A bit.”

Roe guessed it probably hurt a lot for this man to admit any pain at all. “I’m sure there’s a doctor or two in town. We should get you checked out.”

“We?”

“You don’t think I’d let you drive yourself when you’re in pain, do you?”

“I’m fine.”

“When I was around ten, my brother Ben—he was twelve at the time—mentioned he had this pain in his lower right abdomen. He said it was probably something he ate.”

“I’m guessing since you’re telling me this story that it wasn’t something he ate.”

“You catch on quick.” Roe flashed a smile. “It was his appendix. If my parents hadn’t ignored his protests and taken him in to be checked, he could have died. It was ready to burst.”

“This isn’t my appendix.” His lips lifted in a half smile before he winced again. “And my spleen already ruptured.”

“Well, then, that’s one thing the doctor can rule out.”

“How do you know there is even a doctor in this town?”

“Every town has at least one.” Roe slipped the phone from her pocket. “It’s easy enough to find out where she or he is.”

Roe discovered she could drive down Wrigley Road on the outskirts of Good Hope and see nothing for a mile or so until, suddenly, businesses appeared on both sides of the street. It was as if she’d been slogging through a desert of sand and come upon an oasis.

A 3-D image of a tall shelf filled with brightly colored books topped with a cup of steaming coffee decorated the front of a business called Book & Cup. On the front of Echoes of Yesterday antique store, steps had been painted, the kind you might see on an old brownstone. As if tossed carelessly on the steps, a discarded rag doll and an old-fashioned top had been painted.

Roe recalled an afternoon she and Dakota had spent exploring the Northeast Minneapolis Arts District. Some of the art they’d admired was similar to what Roe saw now.

Dakota had mentioned that an artist in her hometown painted 3-D murals. She’d called it anamorphic art. Since one of Dakota’s brothers was an artist, Dakota was well-versed in the lingo.

The building housing the doctor’s office was impossible to miss, as a stethoscope and thermometer loomed out from the building.

“I don’t know that I’ve ever seen anything quite like this art,” Boone murmured, his gaze focused on the Ding-A-Ling bar with its 3-D beer mug.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Roe pulled into a parking spot directly in front of Good Hope Family Practice. A search for the peninsula’s best doctors had led her here. “Apparently, it was done by a local artist.”

“Well, whoever did it has talent.”

When Roe pushed open her door, Boone held up a hand.

“Roe. Stop. I don’t need to go in. I?—”

Without thinking, Roe reached over and grasped his hand.

“Please.” Her eyes met his. “Just get checked out.”

“I suppose.” He gave a reluctant nod. “Since we’re here and all, might as well go in.”

The bells over the door jingled as they pushed it open and stepped inside. Though Roe had to admit that the interior had a soothing vibe with its light blue walls and gray chairs, when compared to the outside, it was nothing special.

There was no one at the reception window, but a man soon appeared, wearing a white lab coat. One hand rested on the shoulder of one of the rowdy redheaded teen boys Roe recognized from Muddy Boots on her first day. A woman who must be his mother followed behind.

The doctor cast a quick, assessing glance in Roe and Boone’s direction, then apparently seeing nothing that required his immediate attention, shot them a smile. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

He then turned back to the woman. “You know the drill, Prim. Rest, ice, compression and elevation for the rest of the week. Ibuprofen for pain. Since Callum’s wrist isn’t broken or sprained, I expect it to return to normal in a week.”

“Max and I will make sure he doesn’t abuse it,” Prim promised, casting a stern look at the boy.

“The Chill Billies’ starting and reserve players are battling it out tomorrow. The game with Sturgeon is on Saturday,” Callum reminded her.

“You may have to skip it, Callum.” His mother’s tone brooked no argument. “Actions have consequences.”

“Mooooom,” Callum protested.

Prim shook her head. “I can’t imagine what possessed you to go down that railing in a parking garage.”

“I told you. It’s too cold to take my skateboard outside. The garage is perfect.” Pride filled his voice.

“Perfect for injuring yourself,” she shot back.

“I nailed that move.”

Prim’s freckles shone like newly minted copper pennies against her pale cheeks. “If you nailed it, you wouldn’t have fallen.”

“I nailed it the first time.” Callum’s smile turned rueful. “Slipped out on a 5-0 grind and slammed hard on the repeat. ”

Her lips tightened. “You’ve got to stop these reckless behaviors, Callum.”

“I wasn’t being reckless,” he protested before turning back to the doctor. “If I skip the practice, can I play in the game on Saturday?”

“If I tape your wrist before the game and you promise to wear a wrist guard, I’m good with it.” The doctor shifted his gaze to Prim. “As long as it’s okay with your parents.”

Before Callum could say anything more, Prim pinned him with a steely gaze. “We’ll discuss this tonight.”

“It doesn’t even hurt that much,” Callum muttered as he headed for the door.

Prim shot Roe and Boone a quick smile as she hurried after her son.

The door had barely shut behind them when the doctor stepped to them. “Sorry for the wait. My assistant is home sick, so it’s just me holding down the fort today. I’m Dr. Theo Holbrook.”

The doctor was a little over six feet tall, with thick brown hair the color of rich walnut. He was as lean and muscular as Boone, with broad shoulders and narrow hips. The hazel eyes he fixed on them held a smile. “How can I help?”

Roe opened her mouth, her nerves pushing her to jump in and insert herself into this visit. But then she shut her mouth, reminding herself that this was Boone’s deal, not hers.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t worried. She hoped everything was okay with him. When he’d told her he’d been swinging an ax and then mentioned the pain, she’d wanted to shake some sense into him and hug him all in the same breath. The intensity of her concern had surprised her.

Even though she knew it was best not to get attached and that anything between them would be light and casual holiday fun, she worried she was developing feelings for Jason Boone.

From the corner of her eye, Roe saw Boone study the doctor with an intense look he likely reserved for opposing players on the other side of the line of scrimmage.

“Do we know each other?” Boone asked.

Theo studied him. “Maybe. I’m not sure from where.”

“Did you play ball for U of M?” Boone asked.

A slow smile lifted Dr. Holbrook’s lips. “Jason Boone. Ohio State.”

“I thought you’d go pro, then you dropped out of sight.”

“I injured some tendons in my kneecap the last regular game of my senior year.” Theo shrugged. “Instead of turning pro, I went to med school.”

“I went the pro route.”

Awareness flashed in Theo’s hazel depths. “That’s right. You’re with the Grizzlies.”

“I’m on medical leave at the moment.” Boone’s tone remained casual. “Took a bad hit. My spleen ruptured, and I’m out for the rest of the season.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Theo’s expression suddenly turned all business. “Are you having issues?”

Boone hesitated for so long that Roe was once again oh-so-tempted to jump in. She bit her tongue.

“I’m recuperating at a cabin here in Good Hope owned by Krew Slattery.”

“I know Krew and Cass. They’re good people.”

“They are. Well, there is a fireplace, and wood was getting low, so I decided to chop some and then bring it inside.” Boone continued as if simply stating he’d gone out to lunch. “Right after I did, I started feeling some pain in the area of my incision. There’s no redness or swelling like the doctors told me to watch for, just the pain.”

“On a scale of one to ten, what would you rate it?” Theo’s entire attention remained firmly focused on Boone.

It was, Roe thought, as if she didn’t exist.

“Eight. ”

Eight? Roe blinked. Eight was, well, far worse than she’d imagined. How could he have, for one second, considered not being checked out?

“I’d like to see the incision, maybe press around a little bit. Get a feel for what might be going on. Why don’t you come with me?” Without waiting to see if Boone would follow, Theo turned and walked down the hall.

Roe hung back. Her plan was to sit in one of the lovely gray chairs and wait.

Boone stopped and turned back to her. “Come with me?”

“Are you sure you want me to?”

“Absolutely.” Boone winced, then forced a smile. “That way, you can hear for yourself that this is nothing to worry about.”