Kissed By The Country Doc. Melinda Curtis
front room from her small cabin to the north, as well as Roy’s, which was about fifty feet south of Noah’s. “Tell me about the Monroes.”
“If you’re curious, you know where to get your answers.” He extended the footrest on his recliner. “Or you can use those binoculars of yours.”
The dog inched closer, put a paw on Noah’s arm and kept moving forward, as if he’d inch his way right into Noah’s lap.
“Don’t even think about it.” Noah blocked him with an elbow.
“I can’t go down there with all those strangers.” Odette paced with sturdy, healthy steps.
“Don’t be such a drama queen. They’re checking into the inn. Go ask Ivy or Roy their impressions if you don’t want to see them.”
“You’re impossible. You and that dog. You’ll both be happy just staring out the window while this old lady withers in front of your very eyes.” Odette put on her jacket and her snow boots with vigor and then she was gone, slamming the door behind her.
Snow was beginning to fall. Noah watched Odette walk along the path she created to his cabin every day. She turned on her porch, made a rude gesture at him and then disappeared inside her home.
Then it was just Noah, the dog, the book whose plot he couldn’t remember and silence. It was in the daily silence of Second Chance that Noah missed practicing orthopedics, missed solving the puzzle of a body’s injury, missed the satisfaction of seeing patients hobble in and walk out months later.
His four-legged friend whined softly.
Noah wasn’t sure if it was from the desire to be in his lap or if the dog was in pain.
That leg...
“Come on, dog.” Noah removed his black gloves, went to the supply cabinet and rummaged around until he found a neoprene elbow brace with Velcro fasteners. He slid it clumsily on the dog’s injured back leg because neither the dog nor his weak right hand cooperated. Finally, he got it in place.
“I know what you need, but that brace will make walking easier.” Noah toggled through his phone until he pulled up a video of himself performing knee surgery on a basketball player, the basketball league’s rookie of the year from two years ago. His own alma mater had requested the rights to film the surgery to use to teach doctors. In the film, Noah’s hands moved with steady skill and smooth dexterity.
He tried to recreate the motions with his right hand—holding the knife, performing a precise cut, using a tendon stripper. His fingers felt feeble and clumsy, stretching the thick, jagged scars painfully. His hand curled into a shape Captain Hook would have been satisfied with, but one Noah hated.
Ella had acknowledged his gloved hands with nothing but a polite look. Such a non-reaction whereas every other woman he’d spent time with had made an issue of it.
Noah tossed his phone onto the coffee table and stared down at the dog. “What did it matter whether or not Ella made a big deal about the gloves?” She’d flinch away from the horrific scars on his hand, the same as any woman with any sense would.
The dog pushed his big head beneath Noah’s scarred right hand, unfazed by the ugliness of Noah’s flesh.
“I can’t help you, mutt,” Noah said, weaving his fingers into the soft golden fur at the back of the dog’s neck. “You tore your ACL.” And Noah was no longer a surgeon to the sports stars, not to mention he wasn’t an orthopedic veterinarian.
He stared out the window toward what he could see of the Sawtooth mountain range beneath the low clouds, pet the lost dog and watched the snow make everything in Second Chance look idyllic, when in fact it was anything but.
* * *
“KIDS! KIDS!” PENNY CRIED, standing on her tiptoes and pressing her face to the frosted glass. She wore a footed pink sleeper and a severe case of blond bedhead. “Sed, Mom. Sed.”
The road had disappeared beneath several feet of snow. The sun peeked through thinning gray clouds. Two stories below them, several children rode plastic sleds and inner tubes down a gentle slope beside the inn, one that plateaued long before reaching the river.
“Go see.” Coughing, Penny tugged Ella’s hand and faced the door, wanting out.
“We need clothes and food first.” If not breakfast, at least something in her stomach.
“Cos.” Penny dropped Ella’s hand and turned her attention to the sleeper’s zipper.
While she was occupied, Ella donned snow pants and a thick yellow sweatshirt, applying light makeup using the mirror in the cramped bathroom, which had barely enough space for a person to turn around in, but still managed to be charming. It had dark wood paneling and green fixtures from the forties—a pedestal sink, toilet and short bathtub-shower combo you could sit in if your knees were completely bent.
The log walls were similar to the walls of the home they’d be vacating in a few short weeks—round and yellow. The main room was small, too, with a queen bed framed with six-inch-diameter logs and dressed in a star quilt made with red and black blocks. The curtains were faded lace and didn’t block out any sunlight. It was quaint.
The kids outside shouted with joy.
“Cos,” Penny wailed, falling to her bottom on the thick carpet as she tried to peel herself out of the sleeper.
“I’ll help.” Ella made quick work of the sleeper, put a fresh diaper on her daughter and then dressed Penny in a pair of blue long johns to go under her pink snowsuit. “And now we brush hair and teeth.”
“Want sed, Mom. Want kids.” Penny ran back to the window to reassure herself the kids were still outside.
A half hour and a hurried start of coffee (for Ella), applesauce (for Penny) later, and the pair was outside in their snow gear, joined by Sophie and her two boys. The twins were already down at the bottom of the hill, having borrowed someone’s inner tube. Penny had stopped to make a snow angel nearby.
“Can I take Penny for a ride?” Gabby asked. She wore a purple jacket that made her pale red hair look blond. At Ella’s nod, the preteen put Penny in her lap and they tobogganed down the hill.
Penny’s joyful shriek combined with the hill full of happy children and the cocoon of being with Monroes made Ella want to sing with happiness. She wasn’t quite brave enough to belt out a tune in front of an audience, so she hummed, starting with Grandpa Harlan’s call to action, “Are you ready, Hezzie?”
“Now that we’re here, what’s your plan of attack?” Sophie didn’t take her eyes from her boys, who were prone to find trouble. “How are you going to evaluate the value of Second Chance in the middle of winter?”
“I have the plat map of the parcels before Grandpa Harlan purchased them and the deeds, but—” Ella waved to Penny “—I didn’t count on everything being buried in snow. I have to look at the state of each roof, the electrical, the plumbing.” And more. Ella sighed, not wanting to let down the family. “Do you think Shane will shovel a path to all the buildings for me?”
“He would if you told him we’d get out of town quicker.” Sophie pushed her sunglasses higher on her nose. She’d braided her light brown hair into two short pigtails that stuck out from either side of her knit cap like dangling earrings.
The wind kicked up powder, sending it swirling around their feet.
“Sophie, did you notice Grandpa Harlan wrote that letter around the time Bryce died?”
“I did, but...” Sophie gripped Ella’s arm. “What are you thinking?”
“That I... That Bryce’s and my situation or the way we blindsided the family...”
Sophie squinted at her. “That you’re the reason Grandpa Harlan had us all fired?”
Ella nodded.
“Just