That thought evaporated when he saw a smiley face pinned over her left breast. It was a reminder that this situation was anything but happy.
“Glue won’t work here.” She probed the cut, which no longer bled. “Too deep to glue. This needs sutures.”
“Are you sure? It’s stopped bleeding.” He looked at the open wound. Yep, deep enough for stitches. “Please tell me that’s the bad news.”
“What did you cut it on?” Sage asked.
“Metal flashing,” he replied.
“When was your last tetanus booster?” Lydia asked.
“My what?” He knew what a booster was. It was a shot, and he didn’t do shots. “No idea.” He wanted to kick himself for not coming up with an erroneous date. Something that would satisfy her need to inoculate. Then again she had his medical record and could disprove his lie.
Dr. Nichols smiled and looked at Sage. “He’ll need a tetanus shot too.”
His expression tightened so much the pinched furrow between his brows ached. “No shot.”
“Yes, shots.”
Did she say shots? “Shots? As in plural?” What started as a small tremble turned into a full body earthquake. “Where’s the good news?”
Sage pulled what looked like a dog’s pee pad from the cupboard and placed it on a rolling table in front of him. She lifted his shaking hand and set it in the center.
“You have to have a tetanus shot,” Dr. Nichols said. “And you’ll want me to numb up the area before I close the wound. The good news is I’ll have you fixed up in no time.”
Wes panted like he was in labor. Short spurts of air puffed between his lips. Every ten seconds he took in a larger breath and started the cycle over again. “I hate shots.”
“Seriously?” The doctor stood in front of him with the same look his mother gave him years ago when he’d had a dozen shots for their trip to Africa. Only then, he’d already fainted and come to. “A big strong man like you isn’t afraid of a needle, are you?”
Yes, I am. He’d rather come face to face with an angry bear than a needle. There was no rhyme or reason for the fear, but it was there. One look at the sharp pointed end and he’d be gone.
“I’m not afraid,” he lied. There was no way he would embarrass himself in front of her. “I’m not a fan.”
“Most people aren’t, but they’re a necessary evil.”
“Evil is right. You sure I need a shot?”
“Shots.” She laughed. It was like sunshine on a cloudy day. “Are you sure you’re not afraid?”
He ignored her tease and changed the subject. “Nichols, that sounds familiar.”
Sage stepped in front of the prep tray, blocking his view. “This is Lydia, she’s my sister.”
Lydia moved from behind Sage with a needle and a bottle of clear liquid. It was the last thing Wes saw.
He opened his eyes to blinding fluorescent lighting and the smell of ammonia floating beneath his nose. He blinked several times to focus.
Blond.
Blur.
Blue.
Smile.
“There you are,” a sweet voice murmured.
What the hell happened? His fogged brain cleared as Lydia came into view.
“You fainted.”
“I don’t faint.” He knew he did, but he couldn’t and wouldn’t admit to weakness.
“Oh, that was a faint all right. An Oscar-worthy performance, I’d say. Thankfully, you were already sitting, or you’d be on the ground. You went down like your joints collapsed.”
He sat there in silence. “Are you really teasing me about losing consciousness? Don’t you have a creed that prohibits you from preying on the weakness of your patients?”
Lydia’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “The Hippocratic Oath stipulates ‘do no harm,’ but I don’t think it applies to egos.”
“We’re not talking about my ego here.” Wes refused to look at his hand, which ached less than it did moments ago.
“Okay, Mr. I’m Not Afraid of Shots and I Don’t Faint. You’re ready to go.”
His head snapped back. “Aren’t you going to stitch me up?” Surely hitting the ground didn’t nullify his requirement for care. He needed his hand mended so he could go back to work.
She gave him the same soul-scorching smile she had earlier. “More good news. It’s already done. I followed my oath to do no harm. Since you aren’t a fan of needles, I gave you the shot and sutured your wound while you took a little nap.” The exaggerated wink she gave him said it all. She thought he was a wimp.
Sage handed him a bag with extra bandages. “If you come down with a fever or the area becomes red and inflamed, call us or come back in.”
“You can take an over-the-counter pain med as needed for discomfort,” Lydia added.
He looked between the sisters. They were as different as the sun and the moon. Sage had curly red hair, green eyes, and was the size of a leprechaun, while her sister resembled Malibu Barbie.
He walked into the pharmacy just as Doc Parker pushed through the front door carrying a small oxygen tank to his chest the way a mother might carry a baby. Behind Doc was Aunt Agatha who had become Doc’s everything since the fire. It was nice to see the two had found happiness at their age.
“Wes, what did you do?” She rushed to him like the mother hen she was. Out of all his aunts and uncles, she was his favorite. Could be because she was the first to sell him her share of their historical family home called Guild House, but also because she had a heart dipped in gold.
He waved her off with his injured hand. “Just a cut, nothing to fuss over.” He turned to Lydia with a pleading look and hoped she didn’t embarrass him. To her credit she said nothing.
“What do I owe you?” Wes asked Doc as he followed him to the counter.
Doc shook his head. “No charge. You can come and give me some ideas on a remodel when you’re healed.”
“No charge?” Lydia asked. “How do you live if you charge nothing? How will I live?”
Doc Parker weaved his arm through hers and walked her toward the exam room. The last thing Wes heard before the door closed was Doc saying, “Money isn’t everything. In Aspen Cove, we take care of our own.”
Wes said goodbye to Sage and kissed his aunt on the cheek. With his ego hurting worse than his hand, and the orange glow of the sun setting between the buildings, he had two choices. He could go back to the house and wallow in his misery, or he could drown his embarrassment in a pint of beer. Beer sounded better. He stopped at his truck to change into the spare shirt he kept tucked behind the seat. He couldn’t walk into Bishop’s Brewhouse looking like he’d murdered someone.
When Wes entered, he found Cannon behind the bar with a notepad in his hand. Mike the one-eyed cat and full-time bar mouser sat on the cash register swishing his orange tail back and forth.
Cannon’s eyes went straight to Wes’s bandaged hand. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Got into a fight with some flashing and I lost, but your wife and her sister fixed me up.”
“Not my wife yet. I got the ring on her finger, but I haven’t been able to get her to commit to a date.”
Cannon poured Wes a pint of stout. That was the beauty of small town living. Cannon knew his order without asking. When he went to the diner, Dalton knew he’d take the blue plate special. The bakery owner, Katie, made chocolate chip muffins with extra chips every Wednesday just for him. Life in a small town was simple. Wes liked simple.
“What’s the story with her sister?”
“Lydia?” Cannon slid the mug across the scarred wooden surface. “Not really certain. She finished her residency at Denver General but hasn’t found a job. There’s something about an old boyfriend, but she’s tightlipped about it.”
Wes sipped at his beer. The light carbonation tickled. “They look nothing alike.”
“Nope. My Sage is prettier.”
Wes chuckled. He’d spent most of his summers in Aspen Cove until last year when he
made the small town his permanent home. He would have bet that Cannon, Bowie, Dalton and he would remain bachelors forever. That all changed when they coupled up with Sage, Katie and Samantha. Nothing’d been the same since they came to Aspen Cove. Not worse or better for him, just different.
“The sister isn’t hard on the eyes.” He hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but then again, nothing today went as planned.
“Are you interested? I’ve got connections.”
Mike got bored with tail swishing and came over for a pet. He was an odd cat. Cannon had found him in a dumpster in the next town over. Mike was born with one eye. The cat loved to lap beer foam. Wes scooped some from his mug and put it on the counter for Mike to join him.
Another good thing about small town life was no one batted an eye at the feline patron.
“No, been there and done that.”
“Is she still hounding you for money?” The she in question was his ex-wife, Courtney. They’d stayed married for three months. He saw her more now they were divorced than he did when they were married.
“I think I’ll be paying for that mistake for the rest of my life.”
“Just say no.”
He took a long drink. Cannon was right. Their marriage was too short for her to claim anything substantial, but Wes provided the support she needed, regardless. It seemed the right thing to do.
Marrying Courtney was a great lesson in how to not choose a wife. They’d got caught up in each other and the sex. Mostly the sex. He never heard her say she wanted more—that she wanted a career in law and a life in the city. She never heard him say he wanted less—that living in Aspen Cove was enough. They were a runaway train waiting for a sharp turn. That turn came when she got accepted to Harvard Law.
“How’s the house coming along?” Cannon pulled a jar of bar snacks from a shelf, filled a bowl, and set it on the counter in front of Wes.
He looked at his bandaged hand. “It’s slow and will be slower now with the injury. The Guild Creative Center construction starts soon.” Wes was excited to see his mother’s family name live on in both the Guild House and the new center that would attract artists from all over. “I have to put most of my men on that project. I won’t have much help, so I need a new plan. I’d love to finish the outside work by the end of summer, but that’s a pie-in-the-sky dream.”
“You’ll do it. There’s no rush. You’ve got the rest of your life.”
“I do, but I feel we’re in for a big change.” Wes wondered if the influx of new blood due to growth and expansion in Aspen Cove would change the dynamics of the small town he loved.
“Change is unavoidable.”
The bell above the door rang and in walked two people Wes didn’t know. That wasn’t unusual since tourist season began in May. Add in the new flood of residents flocking to Aspen Cove and it was hard to tell who was staying and who was going.
Cannon walked to the end of the bar where the two men sat while Wes’s mind went back to the sexy blonde doctor filling in for Doc Parker. How long was she staying?
As if summoned by his thoughts, she walked into the bar with Sage and took the stool next to him.
Chapter Three
Lydia swatted Mike from the bar top and asked her sister for disinfectant. Since Sage was engaged to the owner it wasn’t a problem for her to walk behind the counter.
“I can’t even think about how unsanitary this counter is,” Lydia commented.
“Then don’t,” Wes said. “Can I get you a beer? Since I couldn’t pay for your services, the least I can offer is to pay for a drink.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll never understand how places like this work.” Sage set a spray bottle and a terry cloth in front of her. Lydia handed Wes his beer and sprayed his area too. “How is someone supposed to succeed in life if they’re paid in favors and cheesy casseroles? I’d starve to death.”
He shook his head. “No, you wouldn’t, you can survive on dairy and noodles.”
A long sigh emptied her lungs. “I want more.” She turned to Wes, who nursed a beer.
“Everyone wants something different.”
Cannon stopped in front of her. “Lager or wine?”
“I’ll take the beer.”
“See, if you were a regular, he wouldn’t have to ask. He would have had it waiting here at the exact time you were expected to show up.”
“Who wants that? What if I changed my mind?” She hadn’t changed her mind about him. He was still as sexy as he’d been an hour ago. Maybe sexier, since his skin had color and was missing the sheen of fear-induced sweat. She took in his chiseled jaw, sensual lips, strong nose, and seductive eyes. She hadn’t noticed before, but they were brown with specks of amber that reminded her of the topaz ring she inherited when her mother passed away.
“Do you do that often?”
Lost in his eyes, she’d forgotten the conversation. “Do what often?”
“Change your mind?”
She thought about the question for a moment. “Nope. I’m solid with my wants and desires.”
He turned toward her and picked up his half-empty mug with his injured hand. A look of pain shot across his face and the mug dropped to the surface without a spill. “Right handed.” He shrugged. “I’ll have to get used to being ambidextrous.”
“Big word for a country boy.” She took in his half-empty beer. “You know when I said take over-the-counter pain meds, I didn’t mean this kind of counter. A good anti-inflammatory would work better than beer.”
He cocked his brow. “Anti what?” He lifted his beer to his lips with his good hand. “That’s too big of a word for a simpleton like me.”
She felt the heat of embarrassment color her cheeks. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Isn’t it?”
He drained his mug and dug into his pocket for the five-dollar bill he tossed on the bar. He rose from his stool and waved to Cannon before he turned to her. “See ya round, Doc.”
She glanced at the money he left. He’d pay for his beer but not for his care. That’s why she knew her life in Aspen Cove would be short. Small towns had their priorities skewed.
Sage plopped onto the stool Wes had vacated. “He’s cute, right?”
Lydia looked over her shoulder at his retreating figure. “If you like zeta males.”
“Oh, please…” Sage argued. “Wes is far from zeta. Just because he doesn’t like needles doesn’t make him weak or less of a man.”
“I’m not saying he’s less of a man. Being a man gives him a blemish in my book. He may be an alpha with a capital A, but I’m into my Z game which means I have zip, zilch, zero interest in any man.” It was hard not to roll her eyes at herself. She was interested but afraid to take another leap for fear of free-falling off a cliff.
“You can’t blame the male species for Adam’s lack of integrity.” Sage sipped the glass of wine Cannon placed in front of her.
Lydia knew she couldn’t harbor resentment against all men, but until something in her life turned around, she’d treat them like bees. Better to avoid them altogether than take the risk of getting stung.
“Adam was an asshole.” Each time she heard his name, her gut twisted and acid rose up to burn her throat. “He treated me like an old worn shoe and tossed me in the corner when he was done.”
“Grandma Dotty always said it takes two to tango. You guys didn’t get to the place where it ended alone. Until you figure out your part, you’re destined to repeat it. As for shoes… you’re not old and worn. You’re like a pair of heels that look pretty but hurt like hell to wear long-term.”
Lydia’s jaw dropped open. “Thanks for the advice, Dear Abby, but I didn’t do anything to make Adam cheat on me with that oncology nurse.”
Sage twisted in her seat. The position had them sitting knee-to-knee, eye-to-eye. “What bothers you more, that he cheated at all, or he cheated with a nurse when he had a doctor at home?”
Sage knew exactly what buttons to push to drive Lydia over t
he edge. “Isn’t cheating enough?” What did it matter if she was a nurse or she was prettier and younger? “That man lived free and clear at my house for years. I did everything for him from make the staff schedule to wash his clothes, and he still left me. You know what really chars my ass? He bought a house with all the money he saved freeloading on me and moved her into it.” She picked up her mug, emptied it, and slid it down the bar toward Cannon, who was chatting with the two men at the end. “Refill please,” she asked when he glanced her way. In seconds, she had another cold one in front of her. It might take a dozen to ice the heat burning inside her.
“You created that situation.” Sage leaned on the bar. “All I hear you saying is everything you did for him. What did you do for yourself?”
That was an interesting question Lydia hadn’t considered. “I earned my degree and became a doctor.”
“Was it worth it?”
“Him cheating on me and being a doctor are unrelated.” She drew several smiley faces in the frost of her mug before she palmed the glass so they’d disappear.
“Are they?” Sage laid her hand on Lydia’s arm. It was a warm gesture that spoke of her love for her sister. “Why did you give yourself the night shift when Adam worked days? Why did you allow him to be a taker instead of demanding he give? You treated him like you treated me. Like somehow it was your responsibility to take care of him. Did you ever consider that he wasn’t looking for a mother but a partner?”
Lydia stared at her beer and watched the bubbles burst. Sage’s words, though not meant to be harsh, cut like a dull, rusty blade. She wanted to lash out and say Adam wouldn’t sleep with his mother. Then again, he’d stopped sleeping with her long before he moved out. As painful as the words were, they were truthful.
“I get what you’re saying, but I tried to be who I thought you needed. Who he needed.”
Sage leaned forward so their noses almost touched. “That was your biggest mistake. You needed to be you. While you were helping everyone find themselves, you lost you.”
One Hundred Promises Page 2