Choosing You Page 8

  “I just . . . if I could replace his legs with mine I would.”

  “I know. Let’s see if this works instead, okay?”

  She nodded, trying to appear stronger than she felt.

  Henry returned and Ethan helped him onto the table. A nurse came in to take his blood and for the next hour Ethan conducted a series of tests, explaining each procedure as he went along.

  “In most cases, after a fracture is treated the bone grows new tissue, which for all intents and purposes glues the broken pieces together,” he explained to Henry. “But in about ten percent of the fractures we see there’s delayed healing or nonunion, which is a fancy way of saying your bones aren’t getting better. More than likely the impact from the crash impaired blood flow to your femoral shafts.” He laid his hand on Henry’s thigh to show him where the femur was. “Blood supply is vital to repair breaks. So, we’re going to use something called stem cells to regenerate that tissue.

  “What we do, Henry, is we take the cells from your bone marrow, isolate them, then inject them into the missing section of your bones, where they become healing blood vessels and begin filling the gaps.”

  “How long does that take?” Brynn asked.

  “On Wednesday we’ll do the harvesting, then give Henry a week to recover while we isolate the cells. During a second surgery, we’ll reinject the stem cells directly into the site of Henry’s injuries. Recovery time is about eight weeks.”

  “Will it hurt?” Henry scooted to the edge of the table.

  “I’m not going to lie to you, buddy. It’s painful. But we’ll put you to sleep with a general anesthesia during the surgery, so you won’t feel anything until you wake up.”

  “Henry,” Brynn got to her feet, “we talked about this, baby.”

  “I know.” He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and her heart folded in half.

  “You know what?” Ethan said. “We’re done for the day. Why don’t you two get lunch and head home. This evening, I think we should visit the horses again, maybe get a picture of Henry on top of Choo Choo. How’s that sound, Henry?”

  Henry rubbed his nose on the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “Okay, I guess.”

  Ethan motioned for Brynn to stay behind after he sent Henry to the front desk for a treat. “You okay?”

  “Nervous. Questioning whether I’m doing the right thing.”

  “You’re doing the right thing. Henry’s a brave kid, he’ll do better than you think.”

  Though his words were meant to comfort, the idea of putting Henry through yet another medical procedure was overwhelming.

  “There’s a good Italian place a block from the hospital.” He pulled his cell phone from the pocket of his lab coat and showed her how to get there on a Google map.

  “Sounds good,” she said.

  But at the last minute she couldn’t bring herself to eat in a strange restaurant in a strange town. Instead, she found herself in Nugget, parked in front of the Ponderosa.

  It was less crowded than it had been on Saturday. Given the time, Brynn assumed the lunch crowd had come and gone. Mariah greeted them like they were old friends. The warm welcome made Brynn’s throat constrict.

  Mariah took them to a table not far from the man who had helped Henry with his hat at the feed store. He winked at them as they walked by. There were two other men sitting with him.

  “Henry, you should take off your hat when you’re inside.”

  He lifted it off his head by the brim, like Ethan had showed him and put it down on the chair next to him on its crown. She reached over and stroked his hair.

  “Can I have ice cream?”

  “Sure, but not until after you have real food. What about soup and a sandwich? That sounds good, doesn’t it?”

  He pulled a face and glanced at the table where the three men sat. “I want what they’re having.”

  Brynn discretely turned to look. “I think it’s chili.” As far as she knew her son had never eaten it before. Beans had never been a staple in their home. “Did you order it with Dad?”

  “No.”

  She wondered if the only reason why he wanted it was because they were men. Symbols of the father he’d lost. And that too made her throat tighten.

  After the server came to take their order she went to the restroom, locked herself in one of the stalls, and cried.

  * * * *

  “Hang on to the horn.” Ethan swung Henry onto Choo Choo’s back, careful of his legs. “Can you get your feet in the stirrups?”

  “I’ll help.” Roni climbed through the fence and held one of the stirrups while Henry searched for it with his foot.

  “There you go. How does it feel? Good?”

  There was no hiding Henry’s smile. All that angst from earlier was gone, which Ethan tried to tell himself was the sole objective of this outing.

  Ethan was getting too involved with the Barneses but couldn’t seem to stop himself. Their vulnerability in the hospital today had been palpable. But it was more than that. The fact was he was drawn to Brynn Barnes. He admired her strength, her compassion, and her grace under fire. Her beauty.

  The attraction was dangerous. As a doctor who’d already been called before the medical board, he should know better. But here he was, spending the evening with Brynn and her son.

  “Let me get a picture for Grandma and Grandpa and Aunt Lexi. They’ll love this.” Brynn bent down and squeezed between two of the fence railings to get inside the corral.

  Ethan reached down with one hand to help her through. “Watch behind the horse, Brynn. Tap him on the rump and let him know you’re there.”

  She searched for the best light before the sun made its final descent and pointed her phone in the air. “Look over here, Henry.” She got a couple of shots and said, “Now you get in the picture, Roni.”

  Veronica scrambled up the fence and leaned against Choo Choo with a toothy grin.

  “Nice one,” Brynn called.

  “Ethan, you too.”

  He posed next to Veronica until she got her shot and said, “Your turn.” He took the phone from her, waited until she got in spot and took a few frames.

  The sun had turned into a flaming red ball and the sky was streaked in purples and blues. Another one of the things he loved about Nugget. The sunsets.

  “Shall we head up? It’ll be dark soon.”

  “But I want to ride,” Henry protested.

  “How about a turn around the ring and then we call it a night? Next time, we’ll do this earlier.”

  “I’ll lead him,” Veronica shouted.

  “You can help me.” At seventeen hands, Choo Choo was too big for Roni all by herself. Ethan slid the reins over the gelding’s head and led him in a circle. “Henry don’t press against the saddle horn, scoot back just a little. There you go. Looking good.”

  Brynn took a few more pictures. Without the proper light, he doubted they’d come out. But there would be other opportunities. Even though he shouldn’t encourage them spending time like this, he knew he would.

  After the ride, he removed Choo Choo’s saddle and let the kids brush him out with the curry comb.

  “I can’t tell you how much this meant to Henry.” Brynn moved next to him as he supervised Choo Choo’s grooming.

  She’d changed from this morning into jeans, knee-high boots and a puffy jacket. Alma said a delivery for them had come. Ethan assumed it was their clothes. He liked her like this. Casual but sexy. He wondered if this is how she dressed in New York.

  “When we do it again, I’ll let him take the reins.”

  She hugged herself.

  “You cold?”

  “A little.”

  “All right, guys. It’s time to head up.” He took Choo Choo’s lead and led him to a stall.

  They drove to the cottage in his truck.

&nb
sp; “Mom?” Henry leaned over his mother’s seat. “Can Roni and Dr. Daniels have hot cocoa with us?”

  “Of course they can.” She turned to Ethan. “Is that okay? If you need to get back I don’t want to keep you.”

  Against his better judgment he said, “Sure, we have time for a cup.”

  They went inside the cottage where Ethan made a fire while Brynn made the chocolate. The house smelled like her perfume, something floral that reminded him of springtime.

  “It won’t be as good as the cocoa at the Bun Boy but it’s the best I can do on short notice.”

  “You’ve been to the Bun Boy, huh?” He came up behind her. “Did you meet Donna Thurston? She owns the joint and is a real character.”

  “I think so. Blond, middle aged, yelled at some guy named Owen.”

  “That’s the one. So you met Owen, too?”

  “Not really. He came in, they had a spat, and he left.”

  Ethan chuckled. “He’s an institution in Nugget, owns the barbershop, though he’s constantly threatening to retire. His daughter does hair too. I guess it’s a family tradition. He and Donna are like dog and cat. But don’t let them fool you. They’d go to the mat for each other.

  “Owen hangs out with a bunch of the other old guys in town, playing cards at either the barbershop or the Gas and Go. Folks around here call them the Nugget Mafia.”

  “Seriously?” She laughed. “Do they shake people down? What an amusing little town.”

  He supposed he’d thought the same thing when he’d first moved here. Now, Donna, Owen and Nugget’s other resident characters were just part of the fabric of the town. And a large part of the reason he liked it here so much.

  “Nah. But they like to think of themselves as big honchos.”

  She grabbed a bag of marshmallows from the cupboard, popped one in her mouth, and dropped a small handful in each cup. “Come and get it,” she called to the kids but brought Henry his cup to the living room where he and Roni were playing a board game.

  “Brynn, don’t wait on Henry. He has to learn to do things himself.”

  “I can’t help it,” she said tersely.

  He put his hand on hers. “As his doctor, I’m asking you to try.”

  Besides touching her, they’d slipped back to using first names. This morning he’d tried to set some boundaries—for him, not her. It was a ridiculous tactic, though, as he’d been on a first-name basis with many of his patients’ parents. Then again, they hadn’t looked like Brynn Barnes or lived less than a quarter of a mile away.

  He took his hand away, searching for a neutral topic that would still tell him more about her. “So you’re an advertising executive, huh?”

  She sat on one of the stools at the bar. “I guess I am again. For the last eight years I’ve been on the mommy track, working a little here and there from home.”

  “Alma says you’re the woman behind the Nike and Capital One ads.” He’d actually been the one to look her up. It was because he was curious about the Barnes Group, he told himself. He didn’t know much about the faces behind the catchy taglines of the products he bought. But as it turned out she was responsible for a good many of them. Her late husband too.

  “Ram, Ford, McDonalds, Apple, you name it.”

  “Wow, impressive.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t save children’s lives.”

  “Neither do I,” he said. “I just fix their bones. I’m basically a mechanic.”

  She arched a brow. “You’re the most modest doctor I’ve ever met.”

  A smile played on his lips. “That’s not saying a whole lot. We’re an arrogant bunch.”

  “Not you.” She took a sip of her cocoa and eyed him over the rim of her cup.

  “I can be. It’s hard to help when you’re the best.” He winked.

  “Yes, you are. That’s why I picked you.”

  Their eyes locked and for a few seconds he let himself enjoy the moment—because they were definitely having a moment. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had captivated him this way.

  His conscience told him to collect Roni and go. But he didn’t want to. The fact was he could stay up all night, talking to Brynn, having a few more moments.

  Chapter 7

  Joey leaned against her steering wheel to peer out her windshield. It was a madhouse in the Nugget Elementary School parking lot. More cars than she’d ever seen on a Tuesday afternoon. And not the usual moms and dads in their cars and trucks, picking up their kids after school. She knew their faces by heart because for the last month she’d been secretly loitering in the lot just to catch a glimpse of Veronica.

  If Ethan ever found out there would be hell to pay. And Alma would take great delight in ratting Joey out. But the risk was worth it to see Roni running across the grass with her blond hair flying and her backpack bouncing in the air. Even if it was only for a few minutes.

  Sometimes, if Joey was lucky, Alma would stand at the curb, gabbing with a couple of moms. That would give Joey just a little extra time to watch her daughter.

  So what if she felt like a stalker?

  She’d missed Roni’s entire year of kindergarten. That first day, when all the parents went to see their children’s classrooms, Joey had been in a rehab facility in the middle of the desert.

  “What the hell is going on?” she muttered to herself as motorists cruised through the lot, looking for parking only to wind up on the street.

  Adjusting a pair of oversized sunglasses on her face, she unrolled her window and craned her neck outside. She spotted Ethan’s Ford crawling behind a line of cars. “Shit.” She pulled her head in and ducked low enough to be concealed by the dashboard.

  Maybe it was parent-teacher night or some kind of an assembly or talent show. What she wouldn’t do to sneak inside. But she was already pressing her luck by being here in the first place. It wasn’t as if there was a restraining order against her. But responsible adults didn’t lurk in school parking lots, shadowing their little girls.

  Weekends. Those were the conditions of the supervised visitation schedule the court had set forth for her. You’d think she was a serial killer. But if she didn’t abide by the rules, she’d never get joint custody.

  She’d been working so hard to prove herself. And though she still hadn’t found a job, she’d been hyper vigilant about keeping a routine. It was one of the keys to success for a recovering addict.

  So every morning she went to the gym at nine and was at her computer by ten-thirty to further her search for employment, which included compulsively checking her inbox for any word from the California Board of Registered Nursing about her license. By two, she was on the road to Nugget, a fifty-minute drive from Reno just to spend a few precious seconds watching Roni get into Alma’s car.

  Well, today it didn’t look as if it was going to happen. And sitting in the lot, amongst the empty vehicles, didn’t seem prudent. Perhaps she could grab a bite to eat and come back in an hour. By then, whatever the event was might be over. If she timed it right, she could still catch sight of her daughter.

  She turned on her ignition and headed for town. Though the hamburger joint would be faster, she was trying to eat healthy. Another one of her post-rehab obsessions. At this time of the day the Western place, the one with the bowling alley, would probably be empty.

  Joey parked on the square and went inside. A Willie Nelson song played on the jukebox and the smell of fried food floated through the air. There were two men at opposite sides of the bar, one wearing a gun and police badge and the other a cowboy. Rugged face, square jaw, and broad through the shoulders. They held eye contact, then she looked away.

  Other than a few couples at tables, the place was empty, as per her prediction.

  The bartender told her to sit anywhere she wanted, so she grabbed a table not far from the restrooms, away from the bar. She ordere
d a Caesar salad with grilled chicken and carbonated water.

  The cop took a brown bag to go. The other guy, the cowboy, asked for the remote and changed the channel on the TV over the bar to ESPN, which was airing a Professional Bull Riding event. She watched out of boredom, keeping one eye on the cowboy.

  He seemed to know the riders and cheered a few of them on. “How ‘bout that? That brings Cody Teel’s world ranking up to number six.”

  The bartender joined him and Joey could hear them discussing PBR scores. Those bull riders were a bunch of idiots if you asked her. She’d seen enough broken bones to know what kind of damage a fifteen-hundred-pound bull could do. These riders spent half their time with concussions or in traction.

  Her food came and the salad was better than she expected. Not too heavy on dressing, which in her experience was the problem with most Caesars. That and soggy croutons. But these were crisp with a hint of herb and garlic.

  The cowboy got up and passed her on the way to the bathroom. When he came back out, he lingered at the jukebox.

  “Any requests?” he asked her. “You look like you could use a song.”

  As far as lines went it was pretty lame. But she told him to play something by George Jones.

  “Old school, huh?”

  “Not really, just in the mood.” She knew she was opening the door by interacting with him, handing him an invitation to make conversation.

  He put a dollar in the machine, a restored Wurlitzer that played CDs instead of 45s, and “She Thinks I Still Care” came on. Then he surprised her by returning to the bar and the PBR without so much as a smile.

  She finished her salad, glanced at the time, and motioned to the bartender for her check. On her way out, she caught the cowboy’s gaze and he nodded. Outside, she took in the semi livestock trailer taking up most of the street adjacent to the one she’d parked on and wondered if it was his.

  Fifteen minutes later, she sat in front of the school again. The parking lot, still jammed with cars, was as quiet as the Reno Public Library. Whatever was going on inside was important enough for Ethan to break away from work. Between his patients, consults, students and speaking engagements, he kept a full schedule. Most of the time, at least when they were married, he didn’t get home until well after dark. Then there’d been the weeks he went out of town.