by Molly Evans
“Deal. You’re hired.” He looked away for a second, then back at her. “Do you want to return to Virginia and your job there? Or are you considering something else? You’ve been missed around here. By everyone.”
The look he gave her was pointed, and guilt filled the empty space in her gut. The people around here had once been her friends, her family, and she’d left them behind in order to have a life for herself elsewhere. Now...? Who knew what the future held, but returning here permanently hadn’t crossed her mind.
A sigh tumbled out of her throat. “I just don’t know. With hospital work there’s always a lot of lifting and pulling and tugging of patients or beds or equipment.” Her shoulders drooped as saying the words aloud made them more real. “I couldn’t physically do the job right now, which is really disappointing.”
“All the years you spent training and gaining experience feel like they’re going down the drain?”
Somehow, he’d hit it right on the head.
“Yes. Maybe it’s not true, but at this moment it sure feels like it.”
Sadness, grief for her loss, overwhelmed her for a second. She’d left this small town to create a life for herself, and now that life had been changed dramatically the first thing she’d done was head home—back to Brush Valley, where she knew she could recover. Could she leave again so quickly? It felt like a betrayal to think of leaving again and it made her very uncomfortable.
“So, be objective for a few minutes. What would you tell a patient if they were in your position?”
“I don’t want to play this game, Beau.” Being vulnerable was hard for her. Being vulnerable in front of Beau was even worse.
“That’s because you know I’m right. What I’m trying to do is get you to think outside of your pain. Come on—humor me. What would you tell a patient? If it helps, consider this a job interview question.”
Huffing out a sigh, Aurora closed her eyes for a moment, thinking, then opened them and looked at Beau. “I would tell a patient that this is a moment in time, and not to make any big decisions while still recovering, to relax about it.”
“Perfect!” He patted her on the knee. “Now you know exactly what I was going to advise you.”
He twitched his brows once at her and a smile found its way to her lips.
“Fine. You’re right. I’ll hold off on making any big decisions. At least for now. I’ll work with you and we’ll see how it goes, how my back does, and what other opportunities arise for my future—what I want to do, where I want to live.”
Saying it like that, all in a rush, sounded reasonable, but it was so hard to accept. Time marched on while she stood still. At least it seemed that way.
Maybe all she needed was a little more time, and Beau was right about that. Being driven, focusing on accomplishing her goals in life, had gotten her places. Having her goals and her life stalled due to injury was not the way she wanted to live. Doing nothing was incredibly frustrating.
“Good idea. Speaking of living situations, you mentioned your mom...? Think you’ll be okay there?”
Having lived alone for years, she valued her private space. “Although I love my mom, I can’t stay with her for long. Do you know of anyone with a room for rent? It doesn’t have to be much.”
“As a matter of fact there’s a small apartment upstairs you can use for free. It’s not fancy, but it would give you some privacy, and it’s a short commute down the stairs to work.”
He winked and some of the tension in her eased.
“I was going to rent it out eventually. For now, consider it one of the perks of working for me.”
“Oh, Beau. That would be fantastic.” Could this day get any better? “I would love that. And as my finances improve, I can pay some rent.”
This was the first time in ages she’d felt so excited about anything. Allowing hope to find a place in her heart had been an exercise in disappointment over the last months. Maybe now, maybe here, the time had come to take it out for a stroll.
“You’ll get turned around in no time. For now, I’m not going to worry about it. It doesn’t cost me anything for you to live there.” He waved away her protest. “What are friends for, anyway?”
“I can’t thank you enough. Just know that as soon as I can I’ll pay you back. I don’t want to owe you any more than I have to.”
“You’re a qualified pediatrics nurse, if I remember correctly—right?”
“Yes, but currently a semi-disabled one.”
That fact irritated her. Depending on others for jobs and apartments wasn’t the way she wanted to live her life. She’d made her own way in life since she’d graduated college.
“Semi-disabled temporarily.” He held up her file, then set it aside. “What’s contained in that file isn’t all of who you are. Remember, it’s a bump in the road and we’ll get you over it—or around it—one way or another. For now consider the apartment as part of your pay.” He picked up the file again and read a few lines. “According to your doctors you’ve made excellent progress.”
A snort of derision escaped her throat. “According to them, but it’s not enough for me. It won’t be until I get my life back.”
A grin split his face, lighting up his eyes and adding a sparkle to them she’d hadn’t yet seen today.
“Knowing you, you won’t be satisfied until you’re swinging from the rafters in your dad’s barn.”
That made her laugh—a genuine feeling that surfaced from deep within her, eliciting memories that hadn’t seen the light of day for years. The pleasure bubbled up from her chest and burst out of her. This expression of joy was unfamiliar. The last few months had been brutal. A good laugh was definitely called for today.
She wiped her eyes with the heels of her hands and took in a tremulous breath. “I guess you’re right. Those were good times, weren’t they?”
“They sure were.”
A haunted look flashed through his eyes. She’d seen fatigue in the lines of his face, how he rubbed his eyes when he thought no one was looking, and the look of pain when he’d handed the newborn baby to Cathy. Although she knew that his wife had died, she didn’t know all of the circumstances.
“You said the office is new, but I guess I didn’t realize how new your practice really is.”
Changing the topic away from things that were too personal for both of them seemed like a good idea. Now that she’d be working with him there would be plenty of time to get reacquainted. Right now she needed pain relief.
“After working for someone else in a large city clinic I figured out pretty quickly that it wasn’t for me. So I broke out on my own, bought the building and got it ready for business.” He winked and gave that charming grin of his. “I like to run the ship, not swab the decks. At this point in my life building my own business the way I want it seems like the way to go.”
The tension in the air that had been rising between them evaporated. They were back to an easy back and forth banter which eased her mind as well as some of the knots in her back.
“That doesn’t surprise me.” She looked around. “This seems more like you than working at a large clinic. I think you’re better suited to a rural setting, where you know your patients, than having huge numbers of patients run through your office every day.” She shrugged. “Not you. At least in my opinion.”
“Yes, you’re exactly right. I’m just getting going here, but I have high expectations. People have told me for years that Brush Valley needs a health clinic, so now we have one.”
Though he was saying the right words, there didn’t seem to be much passion in him—for them or for his new business venture.
“It’s a good thing. Maybe it will inspire more people to start businesses, too.”
“Then why do you look like hell?”
“That’s one thing I love about yo
u, Aurora—you shoot straight and tell it like it is.” He gave a chuckle, but the laughter didn’t extend all the way to his eyes. “I appreciate it that you didn’t tell me I look worse than that.”
“You look like you haven’t slept in a year.” There was something going on with him—more than just running a new business.
“You’re almost right.”
He shoved a hand through his hair and his eyes darkened for a moment. The fun-loving Beau she’d known had had some hard times recently.
“Seriously?” She blinked, startled by the answer. “That’s a long time to go without a good night’s sleep.”
He nodded, his face grim. “It’s been a rough year.” He rubbed a hand over his face.
“Is it something you want to talk about?” She leaned forward, then cringed when her back tightened at the movement.
“You know that I have a child? A daughter... Chloe.”
“Oh, I see. If she doesn’t sleep, you don’t either?” She smiled. That explained a lot. In her pediatrics experience she’d heard that story many times from parents.
“Yes, well... Julie...my wife...died right after Chloe was born, so it’s always been just the two of us.” He dropped his gaze and cleared his throat, then picked up Aurora’s file from the desk again.
“Beau, I’m so sorry. Do you have someone to help you?”
Surely he wasn’t trying to cope with everything all by himself. Everyone needed help—especially in a situation like this. Grief for him cramped her heart. He had to be in such pain. No wonder he wasn’t sleeping.
Instead of answering her question, he looked away and cleared his throat. “How about for now we focus on you? We can talk about the disaster of my personal life another time.”
“Okay. Sure.” Now she reached out and placed her hand over his. As she did so the simple movement stirred a hot, burning sensation from her wrist to her hip. “Oh! Ow.” She cringed, unable to hide the grimace on her face.
“You really do need some body work done, don’t you?”
“Body work?” Her eyes went wide, then she frowned. “What does that mean?”
“Manipulation and massage.”
“Then let’s get to it.”
“Let’s get you into the treatment room and I’ll see what I can do.”
CHAPTER THREE
WHEN AURORA LEFT the clinic an hour later she was walking straight for the first time in months and she could take a deep breath of the fresh Pennsylvania air without pain. Awesome. All because of Beau.
For the first time since the crash she had hope. Beau had given that back to her.
After making the drive to her mother’s house, Aurora stepped through the door to the fragrance of her mother’s cooking. Instantly she was transported back to when her mother had given her cooking lessons as a child, when she’d had to stand up on a stool to reach the counter and the stove. Those were lessons she’d hated at the time, but she used them almost every day now. Go figure.
“Mom? Where are you?”
“In the kitchen.”
Walking through the living room to the kitchen, Aurora began to feel the stiffness that Beau had warned her about. She wanted to lean back on an ice pack, the way he’d recommended, and read on the couch for a while. Reading had saved her life as a kid, during the long Pennsylvania winters, and she hadn’t done nearly enough of it in the last few years. Today seemed like a good time to catch up a little, but first there was the task of telling her mother she was moving out.
“What are you making? It smells great.” Steam wafted up from every pot on the stove and a blast of heat caught her in the face.
“Making beef stew for dinner. It’s better if it simmers all day.” Sally looked at her daughter. “You didn’t forget that, did you?”
“No, I remember.” Her stomach growled in response to the fragrance. “Guess I need to eat something now, though.”
Opening a drawer, Aurora pulled a zipper bag out of the box that her mother always kept there. She moved to the refrigerator and filled the bag with ice cubes.
“How was your appointment with the doctor? Does he think he can get you straightened out?”
“Yes. Beau thinks he can get me fixed up and off the pain medications.” Now she was going to try ice on the hip he’d adjusted and go with an anti-inflammatory instead of the narcotic-based medicine.
“Beau? Do you mean Dr. Gutterman?” Her mother tossed a small glare over her shoulder and stirred some mysterious spice concoction into the brew. “You shouldn’t call him by his first name. It’s disrespectful.”
“I went to school with Beau. I’ve known him a long time. I can’t call him Dr. Gutterman now. That would be weird.”
She tried it out inside her head and it sounded like the name of some old doctor, ready to retire. So not the Beau she knew, who was young and vibrant and sexy as hell.
“Well, I’m going to call him Dr. Gutterman. It’s good to have a hometown boy bringing some business to the area. We need more medical people around here.” Sally inspected Aurora through fogged-up glasses and gave her a pointed stare.
Perfect introduction.
“That’s good, because he offered me a job.” “Offered” was a loose interpretation of their mutual arrangement. Desperately needed was more like it.
“What?” The expression on her mother’s face looked as if she said she’d just gotten a job at an exotic dance club, not a respectable healthcare business. “You can’t be working yet! You’re still recovering.”
“Mom, it’s been over two months since the accident. When I got out of the rehab facility we agreed I would come here temporarily. I can’t sit around doing nothing or I’ll go mad.” She patted her mother on the shoulder. “It’ll be all right. It’s part-time, and I’m not going to do more than I can handle. That was my agreement with Beau.”
That assurance would comfort her mother and buy her some time. Her mother was a controller, and wanted things done her way, which was part of the reason Aurora had left town at such an early age.
“You won’t believe this, but his nurse went into labor just after I got there and we delivered the baby together.”
“You’re kidding!” That got her mother’s attention, and she gaped at Aurora. “Everyone’s okay?”
“Yes—but that’s why he needs a nurse right now, and I start tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? So soon?”
Concern showed in her mother’s eyes, and though she hated to disappoint her Aurora knew she had to live her life—not the one her mother had planned for her. Although her mother loved having her around, she had no objective boundaries. It was all or nothing. And Aurora wasn’t about to be turned into an invalid lying on the couch while her mother spoon-fed broth into her mouth.
“Yes. Tomorrow. Which brings me to another point. Beau has a small apartment over the office that I’m going to move into.”
There—she’d said it. Short. Sweet. Firm. No question about it.
“What? You just got here.” This time her mother faced her fully, major disappointment on her face. “I had so many plans for us.”
“I know you did. But right now what I need is to work, get my career back, and not let the accident take away any more of my life than it already has.” She looked into her mother’s concerned eyes. “We can still do some of those things you have planned, but I have to work. It’s what I’m good at, and I need that right now.”
Boundaries. It was all about boundaries with her mother.
At that her mother pressed her lips together for a moment as she surveyed her daughter. “You always were too independent.”
“For me, there is no such thing, Mom. I’m as independent as I need to be.” She shrugged, but remembered Beau’s words about taking it easy on her mother. “Everything will be fine. Don’t
worry.”
“I suppose you’re going to move tonight, aren’t you?”
Pulling away from Aurora, Sally stirred her stew and pouted. Yep, nothing had changed.
“It’s best if I move in right away. Most of my things are still in the car or on the porch, so it will be easier this way.”
“Easier for whom?” her mother asked, but didn’t really require an answer.
“Mom, I’m only going down the road a few miles. We’ll still have plenty of time to do things together. I really need to work. You know that.”
“I guess.” She sniffed. “If you can find time to spend with your poor old mother.”
Guilt trip. There was always the guilt trip.
“I’ll make time—I promise. But first I have to get settled into the apartment and the job. It’s not like I’m going back to Virginia right away.”
She might never be able to go back to her old life. Perhaps there really wasn’t a life to go back to there, and she just hadn’t realized it.
The car crash seemed to have been a defining moment in her life.
There had been life before the crash. There would be life after the crash. Each of those times was vastly different and she didn’t know which way to go. Forward or backward. Or was any direction still forward?
“Well, get your stuff organized and I’ll put some of this stew into a container—and some of the bread I made. You can have some home cooking in your new place.”
Though her mother didn’t like the idea, she appeared to be accepting it. Maybe she was listening to Aurora after all.
“I’d like that. Thank you.” Having a bit of home in a new apartment would be a great way to settle in.
“Okay, but I’m going to hold you to it,” her mother said, and pointed at her with the wooden spoon, giving a mock glare. “I’m going to find out when the Amish festival is in Smicksburg and we’re going.”
“That sounds like a great time. I haven’t been there in years.”