Springtime at Hope Cottage

by Annie Rains

  Coming to live on Blueberry Creek had been a type of spiritual cleansing for him. All the regrets of his past—his worry that he hadn’t been a good enough husband to Renee, that he hadn’t fought hard enough to find a cure—were washed away. An added bonus was that he could work with patients out in nature. Hopefully, his young patient would be a nature lover too.

  A silver sedan drove up the road and turned into his driveway. Tuck watched it head toward him and come to a stop beside his Jeep. He waved and headed over.

  Beverly pushed her driver’s-side door open and smiled at him. “Good afternoon,” she said. The woman had long white hair and smooth, pale skin.

  “Good afternoon to you.” Tuck watched Beverly pull a wheelchair out of the driver’s back seat before they walked around to the passenger side. She opened the front passenger door, and Tuck met the gaze of a sullen little girl.

  “Maddie, say hello to Mr. Locklear,” Beverly prompted.

  Maddie didn’t budge, keeping her arms tightly folded across her chest.

  Tuck also had a hard time saying hello for a moment. Maddie didn’t look at all like her grandmother. Instead of pale skin, she had a deeply tanned complexion. The girl had long, silky black locks with thick eyebrows to match. He suspected that, like him, she had American Indian blood running through her. If so, coming to the water was the perfect place for her therapy.

  “Hello, Maddie.” He reached out his hand for her to shake.

  Maddie stared at him for a moment, not making any move to put her hand in his. Then she huffed dramatically. “Fine. I’ll do this but it’s not going to change anything. I can’t walk.”

  Beverly maneuvered the wheelchair to the car, and Maddie independently reached for the arm of the chair and then pushed her body up and transferred into it.

  “Looks like you’ve mastered getting around,” Tuck noted. “That’s good. Means we can get straight to working out that leg.”

  Maddie didn’t acknowledge his comment. It appeared the biggest challenge today was going to be for him. He couldn’t help Maddie until she trusted him.

  He steered the wheelchair down a narrow, beaten path along the creek. The ground was as smooth and flat as tile here, perfect for wheelchairs and walking. He stopped at a shaded spot beneath an old oak where he had several outdoor chairs set up for his patients. Then he took a seat in one and gestured for Beverly to take another.

  Maddie used her arms to maneuver the chair and position herself just close enough to hear what they were saying but far enough away to make it clear she didn’t want to be involved.

  “So tell me what’s going on in your own words,” he said to Beverly. Usually he’d address the actual patient but he had a hunch that Maddie wasn’t going to give him anything today except a surplus of attitude. “I’ve already scheduled a time to talk to Maddie’s last physical therapist later this evening. Mr. Andrews couldn’t talk to me before now,” Tuck explained.

  Beverly lifted her slight shoulders. “I already told you on the phone. Maddie had a good prognosis for walking after the accident, but you can’t force someone to do something they don’t want to do.”

  “You forced me to come here, didn’t you?” Maddie said, keeping her eyes on the creek. Shadow took that moment to get up from where she lay next to Tuck and trot over to Maddie. Maddie looked down at Shadow and, almost reflexively, reached out to pet the dog.

  This was exactly the reason Tuck had Shadow. She was therapeutic in a way that some patients weren’t even aware of.

  “I didn’t force you to come. You’re too big for me to pick you up anymore,” Beverly argued. “You got in the car with me of your own free will.” Beverly turned to Tuck. “Do you see what I’m dealing with?”

  He did. Something about Maddie reminded him of his sister, Halona, at that age. She’d worn a constant scowl during that time period too. Remembering Halona’s advice, he glanced at Maddie’s Converse sneakers. “Nice shoes,” he commented.

  Maddie seemed thrown off by his remark. “That’s a weird thing for a physical therapist to say. What kind of PT are you anyway? You do therapy out here? Don’t you have an office like a real PT?”

  He laughed unexpectedly. “My office is the great outdoors, and I am a real PT. I can show you my degree if you need proof.”

  Maddie didn’t look impressed.

  “Are you keeping up with the exercises your last physical therapist gave you?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because they’re hard,” Maddie said. “And what’s the point?”

  “Do you want to walk, Maddie? Because if you don’t, your grandma is right. I can’t help you.”

  Something flickered in the muddy color of the girl’s eyes. She was quiet for so long that he thought maybe she wasn’t going to answer. Then she shifted and cleared her throat. “What if my leg just doesn’t work anymore?” she asked quietly.

  There. That told him everything he needed to know. She was scared. Fear was her invisible enemy but he was going to help her slay it.

  “What if it does?” he asked.

  * * *

  Almost done.

  Josie had been locked away in her room all afternoon working on her follow-up story for Sweetwater Springs. There were a few minor details she needed to pass by Kaitlyn and then some polishing touches to be done.

  She let out a contented sigh and put her laptop on the bedside table. Draping her legs over the side of the bed, she completed a round of knee-extension exercises like Tuck had taught her before standing on her own two feet. Her knee took her full body weight with little complaint. She walked slowly to the bathroom to freshen up and then poured herself some water at a table that was set up with a pitcher and glasses. There was also an arrangement of flowers there, which Josie thought was a nice touch.

  Her cell phone meowed from the bed.

  She didn’t have a cat. Never had. But she’d always wanted one. Thus the cat ringtone. It was supposed to make her feel like she had the company of a pet without the upkeep. Maybe she should add that to her list of changes that she suddenly wanted to make in her new life. A new job, a dating life (not with her hot PT), and a pet. Surely that would fill the void her life seemed to have lately.

  The text tones stopped, and then her phone started ringing instead. She walked to her bed, her knee aching just slightly inside its brace, and answered the call. “Hello.”

  “Josie? This is Ms. Plummer.”

  Even if the caller hadn’t identified herself, Josie would’ve immediately recognized her landlady’s crunchy voice, a product from decades of smoke exposure.

  Josie frowned. “Hi, Ms. Plummer. How are you?”

  “Good enough,” the sweet older lady responded. Josie could picture her landlady in her gold jumpsuit that she wore almost daily. Ms. Plummer either had several identical jumpsuits or she wore the same one day after day. It was a mystery that still begged Journalist Josie to investigate.

  “I’m not behind on my rent. It’s not due until next week,” Josie explained.

  “Yes, yes, I know, dear. And you won’t be required to pay it next month either.”

  “Oh? Why is that?” Josie asked, suspecting she wasn’t going to like the answer. A free month’s rent for no reason was unlikely.

  “Well, there’s been a little fire in the apartment next to yours, I’m afraid. Your place got a bit of damage as well. The fire marshal says no one can live in the space until the smoke has cleared and the damage has been fixed, which could take a while.”

  Josie covered her mouth with her left hand. “A fire? Is everyone okay?” She didn’t hang out with the tenants who lived next door but she always thought she’d like them if she did. They were a nice couple who always gave her a holiday card and a paper plate of homemade cookies. The husband had helped Josie break into her apartment once when she’d accidentally locked herself out.

  “Oh yes. Thank goodness everyone’s fine. And don’t worry about your belongings. I w
alked through your place and most of your stuff wasn’t damaged. I posted NO TRESPASSING signs on your door too. No one is going to touch your stuff while you’re away. But you’ll need to find a place to live for the next couple of weeks, I’m afraid.”

  “Couple of weeks?” Josie repeated.

  “Could be as long as a month.”

  Josie plopped down on the edge of the bed as her racing thoughts overwhelmed her. She didn’t have anywhere else to go. Her mom and stepdad’s home would be a two-hour commute to her office, and living with them would drive her nuts after a couple of days, much less weeks. She had acquaintances in the city but Kaitlyn had always been her closest friend there and the only one she’d even consider moving in with.

  Maybe she could stay here at the inn while her apartment was being fixed. As a writer, she did most of her work in private anyway. Bart shouldn’t mind as long as she met her deadlines. She could even Skype with the team for their weekly meetings. That might work.

  “So save your rent money, dear, and use it to house yourself,” Ms. Plummer continued. “I’m very sorry. Freak accidents happen sometimes.”

  This statement perked Journalist Josie’s interest. “What kind of freak accident?”

  “Oh, you know, some kind of kinky use of candle wax in the bedroom. I guess Mr. Diaz dropped one of the candlesticks in all his excitement.”

  Josie’s imagination filled in the blanks. Well, that story would be one that Bart would definitely be interested in—“Freak Accidents in the Bedroom: How to Come Out Unscathed”—not that she’d ever pitch or write it.

  “It seems like Mr. Diaz would’ve been able to put the fire out fairly quickly,” Josie said.

  “Well, yes, if the candle hadn’t fallen next to the gas heater. The Diazes didn’t even have time to get dressed before they came running out.”

  That was quite a visual. “Well, thank you for letting me know, Ms. Plummer. I’m in North Carolina right now, and I might just stay here awhile longer. Can you keep me updated on when I can return?”

  “Of course, dear. Thank you for being so understanding. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Okay. Bye.”

  Josie disconnected the call with a heavy sigh. So much for going back to the city tomorrow and turning over a new leaf.

  Someone knocked on Josie’s bedroom door.

  “Come in,” she said, already knowing it was Kaitlyn. All the other rooms were filled with guests now—several had arrived today—but Josie wasn’t expecting any of them to visit her.

  Kaitlyn peeked inside the doorway. “Hi. Just checking to see if you want to come downstairs and enjoy tea and cookies. I just set some fresh ones out in the dining area for the guests.”

  Josie sighed. “I could use a few cookies right now. Maybe half a dozen.”

  “Something wrong?” Kaitlyn asked, opening the door wider and stepping into the room.

  “You could say that. I just spoke to Ms. Plummer. There was a fire in the apartment next door to mine.”

  Kaitlyn gasped. “What? Is everyone okay?”

  “Sounds like it.”

  “What about your apartment?” Kaitlyn asked.

  Josie pulled her lower lip between her teeth. She really didn’t like to make herself an imposition on others. But that’s all she seemed to be doing since she’d arrived. “My apartment has fire damage, and I can’t return for a couple of weeks. I was hoping you might be able to let me stay here awhile longer. It’ll be fun,” she said, intentionally adding a little cheer to her voice. “Like a prolonged sleepover.”

  Kaitlyn didn’t look as excited about the idea. “Well, there’s only one problem with that. The inn is booked solid for the next couple of weeks leading up to the Sweetwater Springs Festival. Unless one of the guests cancels their stay, I don’t have a room for you.”

  Josie had made her reservation months ago. She should’ve known staying here wouldn’t work out. “Great. What am I going to do now? Finding a temporary dwelling in New York will be next to impossible if I go back.”

  “I’m sure you can find something in Sweetwater Springs though. I’ll help you. And Mitch can ask around the police station. Really, things will work out just fine. And you and I can have more time together.” Kaitlyn grabbed hold of Josie’s hand and tugged her off the bed.

  Josie’s knee complained a little but not as much as the rest of her.

  “Come on. We’ll problem solve while we eat Grandma Mable’s famous cookies,” Kaitlyn said. “They make everything better.”

  * * *

  Tuck sat in one of the chairs set up under the oak tree outside and looked out on Blueberry Creek. He studied the movement of the water, the sound, the birds singing somewhere in the background.

  The physical therapist at Mount Pleasant Children’s Hospital had agreed to call him back at five p.m. to discuss Maddie’s condition. He’d gotten Beverly to give written permission to access Maddie’s medical files prior to their session today. Since receiving the digital file, Tuck had studied every word of every report. Like Beverly had told him, Maddie had broken her collarbone and right femur in the accident. She’d had an open reduction and internal fixation surgery to fix the bone in her leg, but her injury left resulting nerve damage that might never correct itself. Maddie had also refused most attempts at physical therapy, causing muscle atrophy, or in layman’s terms, wasting.

  There were obstacles in his young patient’s path to getting better, for sure, but Maddie was young and Tuck had seen patients with worse injuries who were now running marathons.

  He realized he was holding his breath as he sat on the edge of the creek, waiting for Maddie Sanders’s previous therapist to call. Shadow lifted her head to look at him with worried eyes. He leaned forward and gave her a gentle pat. “It’s okay, girl. Just a little anxious—that’s all.” Maddie had been through so much. He wanted to help her in any way he could.

  His phone buzzed, and he efficiently tapped the screen to answer. “Hello?”

  “Mr. Locklear? This is Chad Andrews.”

  “Yes, hi. Thank you for calling me back.”

  “Of course.” Tuck had researched Chad online earlier in the day. Maddie’s former PT had been working at the children’s hospital since his internship there in college a few years ago. “Mad Maddie, as we liked to call her, was only a patient here for two months but I remember her well,” he said. “She had a lot of potential hiding under all her anger.”

  “Then why did you discharge her?” Tuck asked, working to keep his voice neutral. He didn’t want to judge this guy without giving him a chance to explain.

  “Well, I didn’t want to but her grandma said the girl was refusing to come. If I had it my way, Maddie would have been up on her legs every day, no matter what. But I can’t work with someone who doesn’t show up. If a patient misses more than five treatments in a month, they’re discharged out of our system.”

  Five treatments in a month?

  Tuck’s jaw tightened. He might not have any better luck than this guy, but a child shouldn’t be able to make a decision that would affect the rest of their life. Beverly should have pushed Maddie and demanded that she worked harder.

  “I’m glad to know she’s starting back up with physical therapy,” Chad said.

  “Yeah. It looks like it’s been four months since you last saw her.” And Maddie had probably used her right leg very little since then.

  “The wheelchair was only meant to be a temporary option. Her broken collarbone was still healing from the car accident so crutches weren’t an option. I hope you can motivate Maddie to work this time.”

  “Me too. I’ll go to her house for the sessions if I have to.”

  Chad laughed softly. “You might be exactly the guy Mad Maddie needs. Good luck.”

  “Thanks.” Tuck disconnected the call and continued staring straight ahead. Maddie would be a challenge, that was for sure, but hopefully nothing he couldn’t handle. He’d had lots of challenging patients over the years.

&n
bsp; Josie sprung to mind. She was challenging in a whole different way. It was all he could do not to say yes when she’d offered to take him out for a drink earlier. Even now, he was halfway tempted to call her up and change his answer. They were finished with their physical therapy sessions but she was still a recent patient of his, which meant she was strictly off-limits in his book. And even if she weren’t, she was leaving town tomorrow.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Home sweet not-home,” Josie said, shutting the inn’s door behind her and dragging her tired body into the front room the next day.

  Kaitlyn looked up from the book she was reading and frowned. “Any luck?”

  Josie shook her head. She was supposed to be leaving Sweetwater Springs today. Not going all over town in Kaitlyn’s car and looking for a temporary place to live. “None. Everywhere is booked for the upcoming Sweetwater Springs Festival. And if there are vacancies, then the very apologetic landlords want a permanent renter, not a stranger who’ll only be in town for a couple of weeks.”

  Kaitlyn laid her book down on the coffee table and stood. “I’m sorry. Come on. I’ll make you a cup of hot tea. Then we’ll get you an ice pack for your knee and get it elevated.”

  “You take such good care of me,” Josie said, barely even limping as she walked down the hallway toward the kitchen. “Can you and Mitch just adopt me?”

  Kaitlyn laughed. “I’m not sure he’d agree to that. We’re not planning to start a family anytime soon.”

  A little ache pinged in Josie’s heart, competing with the dull throb in her knee. It was inevitable that Kaitlyn and Mitch would have kids one day. Kaitlyn was the type of woman who would make a great mother.

  And Josie wasn’t.

  Josie cleared her throat as she sat on a stool at the kitchen island. “I mean, I know this town is small but I couldn’t find anywhere with an availability,” she continued, roping the conversation back to something that didn’t make her heart ache.