by Jo Ann Brown
“Definitely a surprise.” Carson opened a cabinet and pulled out a blanket that he wrapped around her shoulders and Myra. “Let’s get you up on the table so I can examine you. And I’ll trade you blankets. This one is warm.”
She took the blanket, thankful for its warmth and wrapped it around herself and Myra. Carson retrieved another and wrapped it around Joe and Miriam.
“This isn’t the way I planned my entrance into town. This isn’t how I planned on telling you all.”
“Isn’t it?”
She managed a smile, but it hurt to make the gesture. She wiggled her jaw and it seemed fine, merely bruised. “I was working up the courage,” she admitted. “And maybe trying to figure out for myself what I’m doing here.”
Joe had left, taking Miriam with him. She knew the little girl would be fine in his care. Yet she still felt a hint of panic.
“Breathe deep and slowly exhale,” Carson told her.
“I’m fine.”
“Of course you are. You’ve always said you’re fine, even when you aren’t. Can I look at your arm?”
“Of course.” She held it out for him and he examined it, his expression thoughtful.
“It’s sprained. I can arrange for X-rays but I don’t think it’s necessary.” He touched her face, her jaw, the gash on her brow. “This is going to require stitches. But it won’t leave much of a scar.”
The word scar set them both on edge. He backed up, his smile disappearing. She sat there remembering stitches that had left a scar. Funny how just one word could steal her breath, cause her to relive the night her ex-husband had left her bleeding on the floor, payback for calling the police. She wanted to say it had been the worst night of her life, but thanks to her father and her stepfather, there were several worst nights.
None as bad as that night, though.
Her husband had been her first love, the one who was meant to replace all the other bad memories. He’d been overprotective, sheltering her, always wanting to know where she was and when she’d be home. She’d been too young to realize what all those traits hid. Until it had been too late.
As Carson gently cleaned the wounds on her face, Joe reappeared in the doorway, Miriam hugging his neck tight. “Got any cookies around this place?” he asked Carson.
“In a container in the fridge and there is juice, too. Kitchen is at the end of the hall on the right.” Carson glanced back, smiling at the sight of the big cowboy and the tiny redhead clinging to him. “Got yourself a new friend?”
“I’m not a kid person,” he insisted.
“Looks like you are,” Carson countered. “If you get those two, I’ll get the snack and meet you in the waiting room.”
Joe moved Miriam to his right arm and the little girl obliged by wrapping her arms around his neck. Carson took Myra from Daisy and handed her over to the cowboy. She went without complaint, cuddling in to him. He gave Daisy a questioning look before he left the room.
Her brother also left, and for a moment Daisy was alone. She pulled the blanket tight and closed her eyes, needing a minute to pull herself together.
“You okay?” Carson asked a moment later.
She opened her eyes, nodding as she lifted her face to meet his curious gaze. “I’m good.”
“It would be okay if you weren’t,” he countered.
“Could we just get this over with?” Daisy flinched as her brother picked up a syringe. “Yes, we can. This is going to sting.”
He was wrong; it more than stung. Her eyes shot open. “Hey!”
“Sorry.” Carson leaned in close. “Just a few stitches and you’ll be good as new.”
“Of course I will.”
“Maybe not tonight. Or even tomorrow. Soon.” He leaned in closer, working quickly. She cringed at each tug.
“All done,” he said after a couple of minutes, which seemed longer. “I don’t want you to be alone tonight.”
“I’ll have the girls with me. I’m not alone.”
He stepped back, found his stool and moved it to sit in front of her. “Daisy, just this once, please trust me. You can’t be alone tonight. I’m going to keep you awake, feed you and probably shove medicine into you. Come on, you love Kylie. You love your niece and nephew. Kylie is going to want to smother you and these little girls with attention.”
Joe reappeared at the door. The girls each had a bag of cookies. His hat was tipped at an awkward angle, as if it had been jolted from his head.
“Let me check the girls now,” Carson said. He motioned Joe into the exam room, all six-foot-whatever of him. A mountainous man with dark hair, a lopsided cowboy hat and a grin that changed him from plain to...more.
She took the girls from him, feeling safer, more secure with them on her lap. They were hers, at least for the time being, until their mother could care for them again. They had changed her life, made her rethink her dreams, her future. They’d allowed her to let go of the chain of clothing stores she’d built from nothing. Then she’d invested the money from the sale in a one-hundred-year-old house with good bones, as her contractor had told her upon inspection.
The twins began to fuss.
“I’m going to head back to the ranch. Unless you need me.” Joe pulled a couple of packages of cookies out of his pocket and handed them to her. “They might want these.”
“Thank you,” she said, taking the cookies. “For everything.”
“I’ll stop by and check on you tomorrow.”
Ugh, he was thoughtful. Those were the most dangerous types of men. They snuck in with their kind gestures, their considerate actions, then in an instant they left a woman scarred for life.
Copyright © 2020 by Brenda Minton
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ISBN-13: 9781488060502
An Amish Holiday Family
Copyright © 2020 by Jo Ann Ferguson
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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