Without letting go of the painting, Flip put her snowshoes back on and left. She moved easily and with only one pole, using the trail Roy had made.
“Hey!”
Without turning, Flip raised her hand in the air and made a dismissive gesture.
“What’s going on?” Sophie stood on the porch of the trading post. “Who was that?”
Laurel marched across the tamped-down snow to rejoin Sophie. “I’m not sure. I don’t know what kind of bee got in her bonnet, but she was angry.”
“Hey, um...” Sophie waved her hands in the air. “Shouldn’t you put your snowshoes back on?”
No sooner had Sophie pointed out her mistake, than Laurel sank in the snow up to one knee. She listed and then tumbled downhill.
Leaving her stomach at the top.
* * *
“ODETTE NEEDS A DOCTOR.” It was the first time since Shane had come to Second Chance that Ivy didn’t turn her nose up when she looked at him.
“Is she sick?” Shane had knocked on her door one day and she’d told him to go away without opening up. “Is she terminally ill?”
“No.” Roy was still studying Shane as if he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t bite. “But Odette likes to make sure.”
Shane rubbed his forehead. “I’m not following.” He’d been trying to keep up with everything the town council was saying, trying to see their point of view even when they’d been unable to see his concern for the bottom line.
“Odette gets anxious when she can’t talk to a doctor every day or so.” Ivy stood and caught her son’s eye. “Nick. Don’t shoot people.”
“Ah, Mom.” Nick slouched across the table where he and Sophie’s twins played. “I’m a soldier. I have to shoot somebody.”
“It’s okay,” Andrew said solemnly. “He was just shooting us.”
Alexander nodded, scratching his cowlick. “We’re playing.”
“No shooting.” Shane was with Ivy on this one.
“Nick, you know the rules,” Ivy said in a firm voice. “Toys can shoot other toys, but not people.” Ivy gathered her thick brown hair, mumbling something about gifts from her ex-husband Shane didn’t quite catch. “Where was I?”
“Odette.” Mitch had turned his chair sideways. He stared out the window toward the trading post and mercantile where Sophie and Laurel were scrounging through what Shane imagined was junk.
Shane had peered into enough vacant cabins and storefronts to know the town was filled with it.
Ivy sat back down. “When Odette gets anxious, she doesn’t knit or sew. And when she doesn’t knit or sew, she comes into the diner and...”
“Let’s just say,” Roy picked up where Ivy left off, “it’s in the best interest of town harmony to hire us a doctor ASAP.”
“I’m not sure that qualifies as an emergency need for a doctor.” Shane had been in town a month and the worst medical need he’d witnessed was Zeke’s accident, which—admittedly—had been nasty and could have been life-threatening if not for a doctor in town. But that was one event.
“It’s a priority.” Mitch leaned forward, eyes narrowing as he stared out the window. “I’ve posted for a doctor and asked around.”
“Do we have any candidates?” How hard could it be to hire a doctor?
“I talked to Laurel’s doctor about the position.” Mitch’s words slowed. “She seemed promising, but no one is ever seriously interested in practicing here until they see the view from the doctor’s cabin.”
“That’s a million-dollar view.” Roy’s chest swelled. “Got one of my own right next door.”
And he paid next to nothing for it.
Shane rubbed his forehead. “You have a candidate in mind, Mitch?” Trust Mitch to be unable to close a deal. “Let’s get her up here.”
“How?” Mitch stood, still focused on whatever was happening outside. “She’s working overtime at the clinic with only one day off a week.”
“We wine and dine her and show her that view.” Shane knew the view they were talking about. He’d stood on the doctor’s front porch and stared at smooth blankets of snow that extended from the other side of the Salmon River to the Sawtooth Mountains. That view tended to put the problems a man had in perspective. “Leave the planning to me.”
Mitch left it, all right. He bolted out the door without his jacket.
“It wasn’t that bad of an idea,” Shane called after him.
Roy turned in his seat. “What the heck?” He grabbed Mitch’s jacket and his own, and motored toward the door at a slower pace. “Did one of them Monroe girls just tumble down a snowbank?”
“Sophie?” Shane’s blood ran cold. “Laurel?”
Ivy turned to Shane, as smug as she’d ever been with him. “Do you see now why we need a doctor?”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“ARE YOU OKAY?” Mitch skidded to his knees in the snow and gathered Laurel into his arms. His heart was pounding, his hands shook and he was cold, inside and out. “Laurel, are you okay?”
Laurel nestled against him, and his arms had never felt so full. “I don’t like ice-skating, snowshoes or body sledding.”
“That’s a joke, isn’t it? You didn’t hit your head on the way down, did you?” Mitch ran his fingers beneath the multiple loops of knit scarf. “Do you hurt anywhere?”
“When my heart stops racing, I’ll let you know.” Her eyes were shut tight.
“Oh, my gosh, Laurel.” Sophie had descended the hill at a much slower pace, walking in her snowshoes. “You about gave me a heart attack.”
“Do you want me to call an ambulance?” Roy draped Mitch’s jacket over his shoulders, not that it warmed him at all.
“No ambulance.” Laurel opened her eyes. They weren’t dilated. “I’m just a klutz, but I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?” Mitch asked, drawing her closer still. Fear eating his insides. “The babies...”
“I feel like someone put me on the spin cycle in the dryer.” Laurel stared up at Mitch and tried to smile. “I don’t think I need medical care.” She levered herself out of Mitch’s arms and stood on her own two feet. “Although a hot shower would be nice.” She was dusted in snow from head to toe and her bright red hair was in disarray.
Sophie brushed off the snow and tried to fix her hair a little, at least until Laurel told her it was fine.
“I’m okay. Really.” She laughed a little, and then laughed harder, that hardy-har-har. Her cheeks turned pink. “I’m so embarrassed. Did everyone see me fall?”
“Probably only me and Sophie.” Mitch helped her across the highway and back to the inn.
“I missed the whole thing.” Roy trailed behind them with Sophie, sounding remorseful.
“If you’ve seen snow plunge down a mountain, it probably looked similar, just with more color.” At least Laurel’s sense of humor was still intact.
Still, Mitch didn’t want to remember how she’d tumbled and how his heart had gone along with her. She could have hurt herself on a bush or a fallen log. There were some on the slope. They climbed the inn’s steps slowly. Mitch threw open the door, surprising Gabby, who stood behind the check-in desk staring down at her phone, the same phone that should have been in the drawer in their kitchen.
Gabby jumped, spun and bounced off the apartment’s door frame. She stumbled back and fell on her butt. The phone skittered away.
“She wasn’t expecting you,” Zeke called out from his position on the sidelines by the fireplace, leg propped parallel to the floor.
Mitch escorted Laurel to the couch and then hurried to help his daughter to her feet. Gabby’s nose was bleeding and she was wheezing like a punctured tire.
“Da-ad...”
“I’ve got you.” Mitch tilted her head back and pinched her nose. “I’ve got you.” He led her into the bathroom in their apartment, trying to temper his co
mpeting emotions. Which was hard, considering he’d gone from the cold adrenaline rush of fear after seeing Laurel fall to the sudden hot rush of anger at discovering his daughter defying him once more.
“I’m sorry,” Gabby said, minus the lisp. She hadn’t put in her retainer this morning.
Strike two.
“Sit.” He wet a washcloth and put it gently over her nose. “Pinch.”
Gabby was crying, snuffling as she breathed through her mouth. She knew what she’d done was wrong. She shoved her retainer in. “I wad taking a pik-dure of mydelf for Mom.” The retainer only made her nose-pinched speech worse. “She called da house and wanted to dee what I look like withoud my blaces.”
A test, he was sure, set up by Shannon to see who Gabby would obey.
“I wasn’t the perfect child, either.” Laurel spoke from inside their kitchen.
“You shouldn’t be up.” Mitch went to Laurel and guided her into a seat at the kitchen table. “You might have a concussion.”
“I didn’t hit my head. Besides, I’ve been watching Alexander and Andrew’s technique of the cannonball move. I tucked and rolled. Sometimes it felt like I was flying.” Her lower lip trembled. She wasn’t as unaffected as she’d have him believe.
Gabby shrieked from the bathroom. “Daddy! I bloke my nose.” She ran into the kitchen. “I bloke id. I bloke id. I lofed my nose. My cute liddle nose. Id’s huge!”
Blood dripped onto the linoleum and her T-shirt from her bulbous nose.
Mitch returned to his daughter’s emergency and guided Gabby’s hand with the cloth back to her nose. “Pinch, pinch. Pinch it until it stops bleeding.” He settled her into a chair next to Laurel. “Once the bleeding stops we’ll get you an ice pack, Gabby. And then I’ll call the medical advice hotline for you and Dr. Carlisle for Laurel.”
“See?” Roy was in the kitchen, too. He looked back over his shoulder at Shane, who hovered behind him. “We need a town doctor.”
With one hand on a shoulder of each of his nephews, Shane appeared worried. Sophie stood near the door, removing her jacket. She seemed worried, too.
“I’ll be fine,” Laurel repeated firmly. “We’ll both be fine.”
“Nod me.” Gabby wheezed. “Look ad my nose!” She removed the washcloth, letting blood flow.
“Gabby, please.” Mitch again put the washcloth on Gabby’s nose.
“I’ll call the doctor,” Shane said in a take-charge tone. “You keep things calm in there.”
Half an hour later, Dr. Carlisle was satisfied with Laurel’s condition—no abdominal pain, no cramping, no dilated eyes. Apparently, falls during the first half of pregnancy weren’t as serious as falls in the last trimester. And the medical clinic offered advice for Gabby’s care that wasn’t much beyond tilting her head up, pinching her nose and then making sure she could breathe through each nostril.
“Someone will need to stay with you the next few days,” Mitch said to Laurel. “If you feel dizzy or queasy, if your ears ring or your head hurts, you need to speak up immediately. You heard the doctor.” Shane had put her on speaker. “She said you could have a concussion even if you don’t have a bump on your head.”
Wide-eyed, Laurel nodded.
“What about me?” Gabby stared up at Mitch with eyes that were red rimmed and puffy. Her nose had stopped bleeding and she was speaking clearer now that the tears had stopped. “How do you know my nose isn’t broken?”
“Because the only thing broken in this house—” Mitch finally let his simmering anger and worry bubble over. He used his foot to slide Gabby’s cell phone from beneath the table “—is this phone.” He plucked it up, removed the battery and stowed it in the safe in the pantry cupboard. When the safe clicked closed, he felt like he could breathe again.
That was when Gabby really started to cry.
* * *
“WHAT ARE YOU gonna do?” Roy demanded of Shane as Mitch helped Laurel upstairs. “We need a doctor in town.”
Shane nodded, watching Sophie and the twins follow his cousin up the stairs.
“Did you see all that blood?” Alexander dragged his feet.
“It was awesome,” Andrew said, passing him on the stairs. “Wasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Alexander agreed.
“Boys,” Sophie scolded from a few steps above them. “It’s not nice to find blood awesome.” She sounded as anxious as Shane felt.
What if one of the boys had ridden their sled past the barrier on Sled Hill and onto the ice? What if they’d hit their head or fallen through? What if Laurel developed a concussion? Or began to miscarry? The road to the nearest hospital was long and often closed. Worry turned into icy fear. How was he supposed to protect his family?
Mitch was right.
Shane had been thinking too broadly. He’d lost sight of the important everyday details.
“Shane.” Roy shook his shoulder. “What are you gonna do?”
Shane acknowledged the concern, but was still at a loss as to a quick solution. “Mitch said he’s already advertised for a doctor. What else can I do? Kidnap someone?”
Roy chewed on those words as if Shane had been serious. “You know...that idea’s not half-bad.”
Zeke chuckled.
Shane gave the cowboy a hard look.
Zeke shrugged. “The entertainment never ends around here. I should have broken my leg and moved in sooner.”
Roy’s eyes gleamed. “We can do this.”
“Must be some way I can help.” Zeke grinned. “I fully support any plan to bring a doctor to town.”
“Don’t encourage him.” Wanting to reinforce he wasn’t interested in the wild scheme, Shane checked his cell phone, despite not hearing any new messages come in. Not even from Holden.
“Hear me out, Mr. Highfalutin Monroe.” Every white whisker on Roy’s face bristled. “It’s like Mitch said. Every doctor we’ve had has been reluctant to take the job until they see that view. We just need to invite this doc of Laurel’s up here—”
“On one of her days off, which will also need to correspond with the mountain passes being clear.” Shane shook his head. “Impossible.”
“You could ask her out to dinner.” Zeke tapped his leg brace as if reminding Shane how his life had been saved by a doctor in town. “If you bring her on a Friday, Ivy’s special includes french fries.”
“You’re scaring me now.” Shane backed toward the door. “You two almost sound serious.”
“Her cross-cut fries are the best,” Roy said eagerly. “What do you say?”
Shane’s phone buzzed with a text, saving him from answering.
Holden.
What do you want me to do about Aunt Genevieve?
Laurel needed monitoring for several days. Much as his aunt was a pain in the butt, she was Laurel’s mother. Aunt Genevieve’s attitude would change once she learned her daughter was pregnant. He hoped.
Shane texted back.
Bring her here.
Why not kill two birds with one stone? Get Holden to see there were real people here, people Grandpa Harlan had cared for. People who were their responsibility to care for. They were Monroe tenants after all.
“What do you say, Shane?” Roy demanded sharply. “Are you with us?”
“Yeah,” Zeke seconded. “Will you ask this doctor to dinner?”
“Gentlemen, I’m going to think on that.”
Because there were dates, which could end badly—no harm, no foul—and because there was kidnapping under the guise of a date, which could end with someone in prison.
* * *
“I CAN’T SLEEP down here.” Laurel snuggled deeper into the corner of the couch and adjusted the blue-and-brown quilt up to her neck.
Mitch had insisted Laurel sleep downstairs, where people could take turns watching both injured patients—Laurel on the couch, Gab
by in a sleeping bag with extra pillows on the floor. Laurel had changed into her silky menswear pajamas because Mitch had insisted she be comfortable.
Comfortable?
There was no way she could relax with Mitch watching her every breath. Besides, if there was something wrong with her, if they did have to rush her to the hospital or the doctor, she shouldn’t be wearing pajamas. She should be dressed.
Comfortable?
Laurel had too much to worry about. “I can only sleep upstairs.” An exaggeration, since she’d dozed during Shane’s watch.
“If you’d like to go to sleep, stop talking,” Mitch said in a rumbly whisper from the other side of the couch. It was midnight, the time he usually paced. By rights, he should look worn-out and haggard. Instead, he looked rested and handsome.
“Jeez, you’re so tense. Shoulders to your ears. Legs tucked to your chest. And your voice... I didn’t help, I’m sure, when I lost my cool with Gabby earlier.”
It was true. She became apprehensive when tension grew and voices rose. Laurel tried to shrug, but there wasn’t a huge difference between her shoulders and her ears. “It’s who you are. My mother has a bark, too. But yours is more about protecting what you love...” While her mother’s was merely territorial.
His gaze sharpened, an attorney looking for proof. Or perhaps a father looking for reassurance, because his gaze drifted to Gabby, and he said, “You think I went too far? Confiscating her phone with no return date in sight?”
“No.” She caught his hand, caught his eye. “In this case, I think the punishment fits the crime.”
“Then what’s bothering you?” His fingers curled around hers.
“I’m going to be a mother and I can’t seem to hold my ground.” To put herself first. To put her babies first. To stand firm on her principles. “Unless that ground is thousands of miles away and I’m snowed in. This is the longest I’ve held out against my mother’s wishes.”
“Once your babies are here you’ll have their backs, the way you’ve had Ashley’s.” His eyes took on that kind look she liked so much. “And you’ll develop a bark of your own. But, Laurel, who’s got your back?”
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