TAKE A CHANCE (Chance Colorado Series)

by Mayhue, Melissa

  Dulcie demonstrated exactly what she needed Allie to do before pulling off her plastic gloves and heading back to the front of the shop. “I’ll leave the door ajar. If you need me for anything, just yell. And don’t forget the gloves.”

  Allie nodded and pulled a pair of gloves from the big box above the work area. Once she’d slid them on her hands, she picked up the big knife and made her first cut.

  Not bad. This wasn’t so hard. All you needed was a sharp knife and some good concentration.

  Another cut and her eyes began to sting from the fumes.

  And maybe a gas mask. But no problem. It was going really well and the pile of slices had already doubled in size. All her slices were so neat and uniform, if she didn’t know she’d done them herself, she’d swear someone else had been working at this spot.

  Maybe she wasn’t a lost cause as a cook after all. She certainly felt like she belonged here now that she’d donned her new apron and completed her official uniform—black T-shirt with a sparkly clip-on bow tie, white apron with a big black hand and The Hand of Chance Coffee Emporium emblazoned on it in fancy black letters. It was as if she’d found her niche in Chance.

  She continued working, the background of voices a steady hum outside the open door, her pride in her accomplishment growing as the minutes passed.

  “Afternoon, Tanner. The usual for you, Logan?” Dulcie’s perky greeting floated in from the other room.

  Logan was out there, just on the other side of the door. Had he come back to see her? Desi had told her that he’d been in asking for her yesterday afternoon.

  Her stomach did a nervous little flip and she fought the desire to check her hair. But, since brushing down the flyaways with hands covered in onion goo would hardly be an improvement, she’d just keep working. If he were here to see her, someone would come get her.

  Surely they would. Wouldn’t they?

  She leaned forward, continuing with her work, straining for any sight of him through the small crack of open space where Dulcie had left the door ajar. If she could finish the pile of onions quickly enough, it would only make sense for her to go out there to ask Dulcie what she should do next. If she hurried, she might even get out there before Logan left.

  Not that she wanted to see him if he didn’t want to see her. But he had asked about her yesterday.

  Maybe if she worked a little faster…

  A sting shot across her finger, as if a wasp had attacked, and she jerked her attention down to her workspace.

  The loose plastic covering her pointer finger was slowly filling with some dark red liquid and it took her shocked brain a moment to understand that the liquid was blood. Her blood.

  How bad could it be? After that initial sting, it didn’t hurt at all. That had to be a good sign. Likely it was no worse than a paper cut, and she’d had plenty of those.

  “Dulcie?” she called out, her voice sounding detached and robotic to her own ears.

  “Just a sec, hon,” her cousin called back.

  Blood welled up against the slice in the plastic and dripped onto the cutting board in a dime-sized splash. Paper cuts didn’t bleed like this.

  “Dulcie!” Was that a ring of panic in her voice?

  Allie gripped her other hand around the injury and squeezed, while blood spilled out between the fingers she’d closed around the wounded digit.

  “I’ll be right—” Dulcie began.

  “Now!” Allie yelled, no longer wondering whether she was panicking as the feeling returned to her injured finger. Pain surged with each pounding beat of her heart and the blood continued to drip.

  If she could only hold it tightly enough, maybe she could force it to stop. Until then, she just needed to keep it together. She wasn’t a kid anymore. She’d outgrown those old fears.

  Hadn’t she?

  Dulcie stepped through the door, her hands filled with plates and a cup. “What’s so urgent that I can’t even…” Her words died off as her eyes fixed on Allie. “Oh, criminy. What have you done?”

  “I lost my focus, I guess.”

  Dulcie hurried over, dropping the dishes onto the edge of the counter to grab for Allie’s hand. “Let me see it. Holy crap, you’re bleeding like a stuck pig. Did you slice all the way through?”

  Allie was only vaguely aware of a clattering crash of china as the plates toppled onto the floor. It was all she could do to keep her grasp locked around her injured finger even as Dulcie tried to pry open her grip.

  “No,” she murmured, her eyes fixed on the blood pooling in her hand.

  Tighter. She had to grip it tighter to make it stop. Or was it that she needed to find a pressure point? She was sure she’d read something about tending wounds in the past, but the knowledge eluded her now.

  Matt would know. This was the sort of thing he dealt with all the time as an emergency medical tech. Though how he could stand all the blood was beyond her. The sight, the smell, everything about it made her brain want to shut down. This sort of thing was exactly why she worked with books, where the worst injury she was likely to see was a paper cut.

  She’d never seen a paper cut that bled like this.

  “You have to let go, Allie,” her cousin encouraged.

  But she couldn’t let go. The fear from so long ago, the panic she’d always experienced at the sight of blood, crawled up from somewhere deep inside, wrapping its sharp claws around her lungs and squeezing.

  * * *

  Logan might have consoled himself that it was only his imagination that Allie’s voice sounded strained, if not for the crash of breaking dishes when Dulcie disappeared through the door to the kitchen.

  He was off his seat and vaulting over the counter before he even had time to think about what he was doing.

  Tanner followed so closely behind that he bumped into him when Logan came to a stop after he burst into the kitchen.

  Dulcie hovered over Allie, pulling at her cousin’s blood-covered hand.

  “Perfect example of why we need that med tech on staff,” Tanner muttered.

  Logan hurried to Allie and gently nudged Dulcie aside as he took Allie’s hand from the other woman.

  “Open your hand, Allie,” he encouraged. “I can’t fix it if I can’t see it.”

  “I can’t,” she murmured, her gaze fixed on the injury.

  “You can,” he assured her. “Just relax and let me take over. I’ve got this.”

  Her reaction concerned him as much as the pasty-white color of her face. He’d seen this sort of behavior a few times before, in fire victims. She seemed to be suffering an acute stress reaction. He needed to get a good look at her hand to see just how bad the wound really was.

  “There’s a guy in the dining room who’s staying out at the fishing lodge,” Dulcie said from her spot at the sink. “I think Desi said he told her he was a doctor of some sort.”

  “I’ll get him and the med kit from my pickup,” Tanner offered, already running for the door.

  Logan led Allie over to the sink, trying to break through the shell that she seemed to be locked inside.

  “Look at me. Eyes right here.” He pointed to his eyes as he lifted her chin until her gaze met his. “Now, take a big breath for me and let it out slowly. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  “It’s okay,” she repeated, her voice shaky and unsure.

  He turned on a small stream of cold water and pulled her hands toward it, almost getting there before she tensed again, clamping her hold on the wound tighter than ever.

  “Your friend said someone back here was hurt?”

  “Yes!” As the stranger who’d been sitting in the corner headed toward them, relief washed over Logan, leaving in its wake an empty hole in the pit of his stomach.

  He stepped aside to allow the doctor to take his spot next to Allie.

  “What happened?” the doctor asked.

  “She apparently cut herself,” Dulcie answered. “Not sure how bad, but you should know she has this thing about blood. Has ever s
ince we were little kids. It totally freaks her out.”

  “Blood-injury phobia,” he murmured. “This isn’t exactly my field of expertise.” He turned a reassuring smile in Allie’s direction.

  “More your field than ours,” Dulcie responded, giving him a little shove toward Allie.

  “I’m Dr. Gallegos,” the stranger said quietly, his full attention on Allie as if she were the only person in the room. “I’m going to take this glove off now, Allie, and I want you to give your free hand to…” He turned to Logan. “What’s your name?”

  “Logan,” he answered, moving closer.

  “Okay, Allie. Now, I want you to hold on to Logan’s hand and squeeze it as tightly as you need to.” Dr. Gallegos placed Allie’s free hand into Logan’s. “You might want to give her some support there,” the doctor said.

  Logan braced an arm around Allie, realizing that the perspiration speckling her pale skin could be a warning sign that she was close to fainting. He should have recognized that on his own.

  He would have if it had been happening to anyone other than Allie. For some reason, he was having difficulty maintaining the emotional detachment he needed to do his job.

  “Squeeze it tightly.” She murmured the doctor’s words back to him, her gaze still fixed on her injury.

  “I’m just going to have a look at this, Allie,” the doctor said, his head bent to study her wound.

  Her breathing quickened and, if possible, she appeared even paler than a second before.

  “Distract her,” the doctor ordered quietly as he allowed the water to wash over the injury.

  Distract her? How was Logan supposed to do that? Though he held her free hand, he wasn’t sure she even knew he was in the room.

  “Distraction, Logan,” the doctor said again, more firmly than before.

  Distraction. Right.

  “Allie? Allie! I’m here to collect from you. You owe me a coffee and your debt is past due.”

  Like a woman emerging from under water, she blinked several times and slowly turned her gaze in his direction.

  “What?”

  “You owe me a coffee.” It was the only thing he could think to say to get her attention, and she seemed to be responding. “For all the work I did to help you. And if I can’t have my coffee right now, I’m afraid I’ll have to insist that you go out with me to pay me back.”

  “You’re asking me out?”

  So it seemed. Even if he hadn’t consciously made the decision to take that step yet, he was committed now.

  “I don’t think you’ll actually need stitches,” the doctor interrupted. “It wouldn’t be a bad thing to have them, and definitely your doctor should be the one to make that call, but, if it were me, I’d say a good butterfly bandage or tight adhesive strip could do the job just as well. All the same, you should see your regular doctor.”

  “We have some of those,” Tanner offered, setting the first-aid kit on the counter and popping open the lid.

  “There isn’t a doctor in Chance,” Logan said. “So, if Allie were one of your regular patients, what would you do next for her?”

  “If she were one of my regular patients?” Dr. Gallegos chuckled. “I’d likely prescribe an e-collar and give her a treat for being so brave.”

  “An e-collar?” That was what his mom had called that lampshade thing her dog had worn after surgery. “What kind of doctor are you, anyway? A vet?”

  “I did warn you this wasn’t exactly my field.”

  Logan would have said more, but Allie chose that moment to pull her free hand from his grasp and lay her palm on the doctor’s arm.

  “Thank you so much, doctor.”

  “Rafe,” he corrected. “No need to stand on formality.”

  “Rafe,” Allie repeated, the pink returning to her cheeks as she smiled up at the doctor. “I just want you to know how much I appreciate your help. I like to think of myself as a pretty together person, but I’ve always had an issue with blood and needles. You should see the problems I have when I go in for physicals.”

  “I can imagine them well enough. My mother struggled with the same fear.”

  Logan backed away from the chatting couple. The vet’s total focus on Allie — which had been reassuring when he’d been treating her — irritated Logan now more than he wanted to acknowledge.

  Since Allie seemed oblivious to him and anything he’d said, it would appear that fate had decided to step in and rescue him from his hasty offer.

  It was as good a time as any for him to make an unnoticed exit.

  “Logan!”

  He’d made it all the way to the parking lot before he heard her call his name. For a split second he considered getting in his truck as if he hadn’t heard her, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do that.

  Allie hurried toward him, a long strip of gauze trailing down from her hand as if she’d pulled away before Tanner had finished with the bandage. Her cheeks were a bright pink when she reached his side, evidence that she’d recovered.

  “Didn’t you forget something?” she asked.

  “I can’t think of anything.”

  “Really?” A dazzling smile lit her face, crinkling the corners of her eyes. “Well, your memory might be awful, but mine isn’t. When you asked me out, you forgot to add when and where.”

  So much for fate coming to his rescue.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “That’s where we’re headed.”

  Logan pointed down the slope toward a little lake nestled in the most beautiful valley Allie could remember having seen in her whole life. With only the gentlest of urging from her, the big horse she rode followed Logan’s mount down the trail.

  Though she’d love to give herself a major pat on the back for making this moment happen, she knew it all had to be the work of chance. Had she not been high on whatever endorphins flooded her system after her freak-out, she’d never have been brave enough to follow Logan when he left the coffee shop and insist he make good on his offer.

  It was as if this day were meant to be.

  No matter. She was thankful that she had taken the risk. Maybe this wonderful day was a sign that she should try being assertive more often.

  Logan’s invitation turned out to be for a picnic, and he’d promised to take her someplace very special. He certainly had delivered on that promise.

  “Not a bad spot for a first date, right?” he asked as her horse pulled even with his.

  “It is gorgeous here, but do you really think this still counts as a first date?”

  He’d taken her to coffee twice since that eventful day at the Hand, and they’d even shared a table at the Main Street Café for lunch yesterday.

  “Sure it does. First official date, anyway,” he assured her before allowing his horse to amble into the valley at a slow walk.

  They rode in a comfortable silence, which allowed Allie time to appreciate the beauty of their destination. The only structure she saw in the entire valley was a good-sized lean-to at the edge of a stand of trees, and that was where they appeared to be heading now.

  Logan drew his mount to a stop next to the shed and dismounted. When he lifted his arms to help Allie down from the horse she rode, her heart thudded in her chest. She placed her hands on his shoulders and he lowered her to the ground; though his grasp remained on her waist after her feet touched the earth, their eyes locked on one another.

  For a split second, Allie was transported back to that night in the Hand, when they’d stood like this, face to face, just before Logan had dipped his head as if to claim her lips, their hearts racing together, beating as one in a moment of sheer—

  “I’d better see to the horses,” he murmured, crashing her imagination back to reality as he stepped away from her.

  She accepted the blanket he handed her and hurried toward the water, anxious to put some distance between them. Anxious to give herself a moment to straighten out her thoughts.

  How stupid of her. How utterly, ridiculously stupid of her to
think he was going to try to kiss her. To actually expect it! The last time they’d been that close to a kiss had obviously been a total fluke. The two of them, alone in the dark, late at night, their emotions already off kilter. She was just an idiot for letting herself think that almost-kiss was any more than a one-time thing.

  Still, it wasn’t all her fault. She couldn’t very well control the fact that Logan had always had the ability to set her hormones raging with nothing more than a simple look. Of course, that wasn’t his fault either. He hardly knew her. Just because she’d been fantasizing about him for half her life didn’t mean he had any similar feelings about her. In fact, he’d said himself, not ten minutes ago, that he considered this their first date.

  She shook out the blanket before spreading it over the ground, under a big shade tree, close to the water. With several deep breaths in and out, she concentrated on relaxing. It would be so nice to be able to turn off her inner critic, even if only for one day. She wanted to simply enjoy this wonderful scenery, the comforting noises of nature all around her, the beauty of this moment, all without analyzing and second-guessing every single move either of them made.

  Logan had chosen a perfect spot for their picnic. The water babbled next to them and a few puffy clouds gathered on the horizon. This was the sort of place an artist would give anything to find.

  By the time Logan joined her, she’d managed to get her frazzled emotions back under control. He placed the large wicker basket he’d brought in the center of the blanket and sat down next to her.

  “It appears that my location for the picnic is a winner. Let’s see how much I can impress you with the food I brought.”

  The first thing Logan pulled out of the basket was a bottle of wine, followed by two crystal glasses.

  “Wow.”

  Allie leaned forward, curious to see what he’d pull out next. A loaf of bread wrapped in two lacy napkins. She looked up at him and back to the basket. The contents so far seemed… not at all what she would have expected a guy like Logan to pack for a picnic.