by Molly Evans
After an hour of sitting in the chair, the pain began in her hips and she stood. With her hands on her hips she arched her back, looking at the ceiling. This was a stretch she’d learned in physical therapy.
“Looks like you’ll be good as new if you keep up the exercises—and no more lifting things you shouldn’t,” Beau said to his patient as they came through the clinic door.
“I know. I’m finally going to have to admit I’m not as young as I used to be.”
The patient walked out with Beau.
“That’s true. But here’s your chance to delegate authority, Vern. You’re the owner of the company. You don’t have to tote every beam or bag of cement yourself. Get some of those young guys to do the heavy lifting.”
“Good point, Beau.”
Vern walked a little straighter as he left the office, and saluted Aurora on the way out.
“Are most of your patients here for adjustments?” she asked as she worked on another stretch.
“Maybe about fifty percent. There’s a chiropractor in Indiana, but he’s usually swamped, so I get his leftovers.” A shrug lifted his shoulders. “Works for me for now.”
“Wow. Maybe that’s something you should put on your advertising, too. After studying your appointment calendar, it looks like you can usually get people in the same day. That would be a major selling point for people who need an adjustment quickly. Like Vern, there. He just walked in and you were able to see him. Maybe we could set aside one or two appointments every day for emergency adjustments.”
“That’s a great idea. Are you sure you aren’t a marketer disguised as a nurse?”
“Oh, no.” She laughed, and stretched her back to one side then the other. “I guess I could be called an opportunist. When there’s an opportunity that presents itself, I jump on it.”
“Very observant.”
He stepped closer to her and her senses went on high alert. After their last conversation had fizzled, she wasn’t sure what to expect as he neared.
“I’m being very observant right now,” he said.
“What are you seeing?”
She was seeing him very close, and observing that the hairs on her arms were going up, alerted like she was in a dangerous situation. Only this situation was dangerous to her senses.
“I’m seeing that you need a break. Your back is bothering you, isn’t it?”
“Yes...but it’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. You had your hands on your hips in a classic sore back posture. Take a break. That paperwork isn’t going anywhere.”
“There are lab reports that need to be looked at.” Proving her worth to him was extremely important to her. “I don’t want you to replace me already because I’m slacking on the job.”
“That’s just not possible. I’ll look at them.” Beau glanced down at Daisy, who cast her eyes in adoration up to him. “Maybe you can take Daisy out back for a walk along the edge of the pasture. She hasn’t been out since we got here.”
“Oh, good plan.”
She looked down at the dog on its bed and her heart cramped a little. Beau had had his perfect world and then it had been shattered.
“Do dogs grieve, I wonder?”
“What?”
“Oh, God. I said that out loud, didn’t I?” How humiliating.
“Yes, you did. What made you think about that right now?”
A puzzled expression covered his face. Then it was closed, and she hoped she hadn’t offended him.
“I was just thinking of you and how your world was broken up when your wife died and I wondered if Daisy misses her, too.”
The ache in her chest was twofold. One for him and one for his daughter, who had never known her mother at all. Tragedy was everywhere, and never closer to home than at this moment.
“Well. Yes.” He cleared his throat and looked away, obviously uncomfortable with the topic. “I think dogs do grieve. Daisy wouldn’t eat for a week, and she slept on Julie’s side of the bed until she realized Julie wasn’t coming home again.” He sighed. “After that, she slept on the floor beside me. Hasn’t gotten back up onto the bed since.”
“Beau...”
She held her arms out to him as tears filled her eyes. It was still painful—that was obvious—and she hadn’t meant to bring up anything to open the wound for him. But sometimes that was what friends did, they helped each other to heal. They dug at the hard stuff until it was all out in the light.
“I’m so sorry.”
Beau wrapped his arms around her and they held on to each other for a few minutes. No words were spoken. None were needed in order for them to communicate. She felt the trembling in his body and it was echoed in her own. The pain he was in was real.
Daisy nudged at their legs with her nose and pushed with her head until Aurora pulled back with a watery laugh. “I see. You need to go out, don’t you, girl?”
“Thanks. I needed a hug and didn’t even know it.”
“We all do, Beau. It’s up to our friends to point it out now and then.”
She stepped back before that haunted look in his eyes overwhelmed her and she took a step past her boundaries that she’d regret. They were friends, and if she gave in to the impulse to be more, their friendship, and their work relationship would be changed forever. She didn’t want that. She didn’t need it right now. She needed him as a friend, and she needed this job more than anything. That was all it had to be for her, or she wouldn’t be able to carry on working here.
She snapped her fingers at Daisy. “Let’s go, girl. I think we both need a walk.”
But before she could open the door Beau caught her by the arm, pulled her back toward him.
“Wait. Just a second.”
* * *
“What?”
The second her blue eyes met his, Beau felt something cramp in his chest. The pace of his heart was usually strong and even, but now he felt like a kid with a crush. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew he couldn’t let her walk out the door without saying something to her.
It was just a walk. Just taking the dog out. Only a few minutes away from him. But something pulled at him. A connection. That was what he needed—a connection. Heat burned in his chest in a way that he hadn’t felt for a long time, and he wasn’t comfortable with it now, but he was powerless to resist it.
“Um...” What was wrong with him?
“Beau? Are you okay?”
Concern filled her eyes as she looked at him. Though she still held her body stiffly. It was probably because she’d become used to holding herself that way. She leaned toward him and her eyes showed her interest.
What would happen if she reached out to him the way he wanted to reach out to her?
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I’M OKAY. I just...just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate you being here with me, helping me. Us.” He glanced down at Daisy. “Helping us get our lives back together.”
Why was it so hard to admit that? That he needed help. That he needed her.
That made her smile, and his heart fell into place. Despite all of his precautions, his vow to be self-protective, that smile of hers was sending him over the edge.
“It’s okay, Beau. You’re helping me, too.”
“A mutually beneficial arrangement, then—right?”
The smile she flashed at him created a thrumming in his chest where the heat had just been.
“Right. Guess we’d better go before she gets impatient.” She opened it and the dog dashed through it. “We’ll be right back. You’re on phone duty!”
A short while later the two of them returned. Daisy dashed through the door and leaped up into his arms like she’d done when she was a puppy. Now, with seventy pounds of grown dog flying through the air, he wasn’t ready for
it. At the last second he made a grab for her, and they both landed on the floor amidst kisses and licks and happy dog slobber all over his face.
He laughed. He tried to capture her collar and drag her off him, but the dog wasn’t going to be deterred. She stood on his chest and then lay down on him, so happy to see him, although she’d been gone only a few minutes.
Another laugh erupted from his gut, and then another. Before he knew it tears of laughter and joy that he hadn’t shed for a long time fell from his eyes and down his cheeks. He pulled Daisy against him and caught his breath. She whined once, then settled against him on the floor.
Aurora’s hand touched his shoulder, and her touch, her energy, her compassion all reached out to him. He took her hand in his. Lying on the floor with Daisy and Aurora, he didn’t feel silly, but for some reason he just felt loved.
“Are you okay?”
The tone of her voice was different. Quietly questioning. She wanted to engage him, he knew, but didn’t want to pry into his emotions. She was such a compassionate woman, and totally perfect as his office nurse. Somehow, lying there on the floor, being suffocated by his dog, Aurora’s beautiful caramel blonde hair all tousled, he decided he needed to figure out a way to keep Aurora with him.
Permanently.
“I’m good. I haven’t felt this good in a long time.”
His breath wheezed in and out of his throat. Daisy seemed to have pushed out all the heavy stuff that he’d kept locked inside and each new breath he took pushed out stagnant air and brought more life into him.
“We used to do this when she was a puppy. She must have had a memory strike her, or something, ’cause she hasn’t done that in ages.” He cupped Aurora’s hand in one of his and massaged Daisy’s ear with the other. “This is the kind of greeting everyone should have. From someone who loves them unconditionally—don’t you think?”
“Absolutely.” She sniffed. “There hasn’t been much of that in my life, Beau. Seems like the people who loved me only loved me for the things I did for them, not because I was a cool person or anything.” She rubbed Daisy’s back. “Maybe I need a dog, too.”
“That’s so wrong.” He turned his head to look at her, though she was upside down. “You are a cool person, and you deserve so much more than that.”
Hesitating for just a second, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it. That was as far as he could go right now. Though he wanted to reach out to her, there were so many reasons he shouldn’t. So much was at stake for both of them.
“Now you’re really going to make me cry.” She wiped her face with the back of her hand just as the bell over the front door rang, admitting another patient.
Abandoning her human pillow, Daisy trotted over to the door to see what was going on. Fearful that she might jump up and injure a patient, Beau opened his mouth to call her. Before he could do that Aurora snapped her fingers once and ordered the dog to sit—which Daisy quickly did, then offered a paw.
A squeal of delight shattered the peaceful air as Beau picked himself up off the floor. He held a hand out to Aurora and assisted her to a standing position.
“Down. Down!”
An impatient little girl of about four years old, with wild blonde curls, struggled from the grip of her father.
He looked at Beau and Aurora while holding on to the struggling child. “Is it okay?”
“Oh, yes. Daisy’s good with children.”
“Good, ’cause this kid loves dogs.” The dad grinned and shook his head. “Every single stuffed animal she has is a dog.”
The father set her down and the girl immediately fell to the floor in front of Daisy, as if worshiping her, then hugged the dog’s sturdy neck. Daisy just sat, as if she knew what to do, as if she knew this was her purpose in life—to be hugged by kids and to love them.
Beau offered the sign-in sheet to the man. “You new around here? You don’t look familiar.”
“I am—but she’s not. My wife, Dana, usually brings her in, but today it’s my job.” He ruffled his daughter’s hair with affection. “Needs a booster shot of some sort. Dana said you’d have it in the records in case I forgot—which I did.”
“No problem.” Beau took a quick look at the sheet for the name and handed the clipboard back to Aurora. “I’ll grab her chart.”
After the shot was administered, and the requisite ear-piercing scream had lifted the hair on his arms, Beau led them back to the front desk.
“Daisy gives good hugs if you need another one.” He crouched down to talk to the little girl with big, tearful eyes. “Nurse Aurora might have a lollipop for you, too.”
After a few seconds of consideration, apparently deciding between crying or hugging the dog, she nodded and hurried over to Daisy for another hug.
Aurora gave the treat to her dad. “You might want to keep it, or it’s going to have dog hair on it.”
“I’ll do that.” He tucked the lollipop in his shirt pocket. “Come on, Misty. Say goodbye to Daisy.”
“Aw...” she said and shook her head, setting her curls to bouncing. “But I like Daisy.” Casting a pair of soulful blue eyes on her father, Misty tried her best to linger a while with the dog.
“I know. But Daisy will be here next time you visit.” He looked at Beau. “Right, Doc?”
“For sure.” He turned to Aurora. “Decision made. Daisy is the official mascot for the clinic.”
“Good decision,” she said, and then her gaze skittered away from him.
He’d noticed she hadn’t sat down since coming back into the clinic.
“I’m thinking I need to go upstairs and lie down for a while...if you can handle the clinic for an hour or two?”
“Your back? Or something else?”
Though he’d just kissed her hand, he really wanted to kiss her lips, and she probably knew it. He hoped she wasn’t uncomfortable with him now. That was something he didn’t need, hadn’t intended, and certainly didn’t want. But he still wanted to do it.
“Yes. It’s the chair, I think. Sitting for so long puts too much pressure on my back in the wrong places.”
“Got it. Maybe we can put some sort of support into it for you.”
“That would be nice—but don’t go to any fuss, Beau. This is a pain I’m going to have to learn to live with, I think.”
The change in her face was obvious. The bright, sunny features that had been there moments ago now held disappointment.
“Go. We’ll be fine.”
Daisy followed her to the doorway, then looked back at him, as if trying to tell him he needed to do something, but he let her go. She needed the peace right now and, frankly, so did he.
He snapped his fingers the way Aurora had, and Daisy returned to sit at his feet. He dropped into the desk chair and quickly scanned the schedule. There was an empty hour, with no one coming in. If no one dropped by he could get the task he had in mind done in no time.
He opened an internet browser and clicked on the local office supply warehouse to see what they had in stock.
He had a sudden need to upgrade his office chairs.
* * *
Aurora could delay only so long before she had to go back down to the clinic. After having lunch and lying down for a bit she felt the spasm in her back ease, as if someone had pulled on the end of a bow to unravel it. Now she felt great, and had no excuse not to see Beau.
If she were being honest with herself she had to admit that there had been a moment between them—a special moment—when Beau had looked at her in a way he’d never done before, and she’d responded in a way she’d never done before, either. But there were so many reasons not to give in to her desires, not to let herself feel things for Beau. This new situation, this new phase of her life, could all go down the drain in a heartbeat if things didn’t work out between them.
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Could she risk their friendship, risk her new job and stability, for something that wasn’t a sure thing? Right now, she couldn’t. There was never a sure thing when it came to relationships.
Plastering a smile on her face, she opened the back door to the clinic and found Beau on the floor, his legs splayed out at awkward angles. Alarm cut right through her, and her heart raced erratically. But Daisy lay quietly beside him, not bothered, so Aurora paused a second.
Beside Beau was a box. A very large box with a picture of a chair on the side.
“What...?” She took a few steps forward. “Beau? What are you doing?”
“Can you hand me that screwdriver? It said flathead, but it’s a Phillips. I don’t know who writes the instructions for this stuff, but they need a new job.”
He pointed to the twelve-inch tool with its hefty black and yellow handle. Stooping down, she handed it to him.
“As you can see, I’m putting together a chair.”
“But why?”
He looked at her and blinked, as if she’d said something crazy. “Because you need one.”
“Oh, Beau. You didn’t have to do that.”
No one had ever done anything like that for her, and a little flutter of warmth shot through her heart, tearing down those flimsy little barriers she’d just put up.
“Sure I did. The other one was giving your back trouble, so this is an easy fix. Your back’s happy, you’re happy. You’re happy, I’m happy.”
“Simple as that?”
“Simple as that.”
Beau turned the screw a few more times. “Done.” He rolled over and jumped to his feet. “Here. Take it for a spin.”
A ridiculous bubble of pleasure pulsed inside her chest. “Well, okay. If you insist.”
“I insist.”
He put one hand on the chair to steady it, and with a sweeping gesture of his other hand offered it to her. With a giggle she sat, and Beau pushed her over to the desk.