There’s nothing to be nervous about. Except screwing this up. What if I say the wrong thing? What if she offers me a drink I don’t like? What if Agnes is still awake?

  That thought nearly stops me in my tracks. There is no way I can walk into The Barn and face Agnes. What if she gets the wrong idea about my intentions with Lila? Lord, please let Agnes be asleep, I pray. It's bad enough that some of the shopkeepers are still up. I can see Iris watching as we walk by the general store.

  It's just a drink between two adults but in a small town like Hollow Bridge the rumor mill will be flying within the hour.

  “So what is euchre?” I ask, struggling for some topic of conversation to take my mind off my worries. "I've heard some of my elderly patients mention it but I have idea what it actually is."

  Lila glances at me quickly then returns to staring ahead. “It’s a card game,” she says. “You play in pairs, with a deck of twenty-four cards. Your pair needs three tricks to win.”

  “Tricks?” I ask. I immediately think of Ethan's dog, Israel, who learned a variety of tricks involving frisbees and hula hoops. I don't think those are the kind of tricks Lila was talking about.

  “You’ve really never played,” Lila says, turning towards me, surprise evident in her blue eyes. “I could teach you, if you’re interested.”

  The offer is said nonchalantly but I can tell she’s genuine. I’m touched. She truly wants to spend time with me. I mean, she did invite me over for a drink, but still. We all have our insecurities. Mine is waiting for Lila to realize she can do so much better than a workaholic doctor with a mild video game addiction. I, on the other hand, will desperately accept any scraps she offers.

  “I’m interested,” I say. I’m interested in a lot when it comes to Lila. She’s intriguing. She’s already burrowed under my skin and I’m itching for more.

  Lila smiles and we cross the street to the bed and breakfast. I’ve passed the building more times than I can count but this will be the first time I’ve ever entered it.

  We ascend the wooden steps onto the porch and Lila opens the door into the foyer. It’s well lit, a chandelier hanging in the center, with sconces on the wallpapered walls.

  It’s also eerily quiet.

  Lila frowns. “I thought Agnes would still be awake. I told her I wouldn’t be back until after ten.”

  “She probably retired a little early," I say. "I did tell her to rest." I don’t tell Lila I’m relieved Agnes isn’t up, or that I'm relieved I don't see any guests milling around to either demand something of Lila or simply be an unwelcome third wheel.

  At that Lila laughs. It's the most wonderful sound I’ve ever heard. I stand in the foyer, mesmerized, until Lila beckons me to the room towards the left.

  The parlor is dark. Lila flicks a switch and suddenly we’re bathed in soft light. She heads to an oak cabinet as she directs me to a red and white checkered couch.

  I slowly and carefully sit, my whole body tense. This is really happening. I’m alone with Lila. I need to take it slow and not scare her off. She matters to me.

  “What’s your poison?” she asks, holding up a bottle of rum in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other.

  I point to the whiskey and she pours us each two fingers into crystal glasses she procures from the bar. Next thing I know, there’s a drink in my hand and a gorgeous woman sitting beside me.

  She takes a sip of her drink. I do the same. It’s smooth, with a slight burn. Agnes certainly knows good whiskey.

  We sit quietly and enjoy our drinks. I feel my muscles start to relax. It could be the whiskey, though I think it has more to do with simply being comfortable around Lila. It’s not awkward. I anticipated awkward. It’s safe to lower my guard and savor the moment.

  “How long have you lived here?” Lila asks. She swings her legs up on the couch and assumes a crossed-legged position as she faces me full-on.

  “If by here you mean Hollow Bridge, about three years,” I say. “If you mean Indiana, about a decade. I moved to Fort Wayne for medical school.”

  Lila cocks her head as she swirls the whiskey in her glass. “So you’re not originally from Indiana?”

  I shake my head. “East Texas, actually. My dad was born and raised on a ranch. My mom moved us there permanently after he died.” I wonder what my mother would think of Lila. I think she’d like her. They’re both fiery women. It occurs to me I may have the same type as my father. It’d be nice to have something in common with the man I barely knew.

  Dad may have been a rancher but ranching is not in my blood. I’m allergic to horses, steers terrify me, and Texas is just too darn hot. At least Indiana has all four seasons, though I could do without getting them all in one day sometimes. Snowstorms do keep my practice busy, though. Before I moved here I had no idea how many snow-related injuries there were. My public service announcement to the world is to stop shoveling snow after age fifty and hire someone to clear your driveway instead.

  Did Dad ever see snow? I'm not sure he went farther north than Oklahoma, and certainly not in the winter. I'll have to try to remember to ask my mom some time. My mother and grandmother did their best to keep my dad’s memory alive. It’s difficult when you don’t share the same interests. But maybe, just maybe, he and I aren’t as dissimilar as I believed.

  Lila’s next question pulls me from my thoughts. “Your mom didn’t want to be near her family?”

  “They’re mostly still in Guatemala,” I say. I don’t mention that I send them money every month, or that I haven’t seen them since I was in high school. It’s not that I’m ashamed. My family works hard in difficult circumstances and need my help, which I’m happy to provide.

  I just don’t want to talk about people I already know. I prefer to talk to Lila and get to know her better.

  “May I ask a personal question?” I ask.

  “I think we’re past you asking permission,” Lila says with a smile. She leans back against the arm of the couch. “What do you want to know?”

  “Why did you leave Hollow Bridge?”

  Her face falls. She stares into her almost empty glass. I wonder if I’ve said the wrong thing, if I shouldn’t have pried. Maybe we aren’t comfortable enough with one another yet. This is what I was worried about and now look. I blew it.

  Then Lila starts to speak.

  “The news in Chicago is more interesting,” she says slowly, as though she’s considering each word. “And honestly, I needed to get out. Agnes became my legal guardian after my parents died. Since her life was in Hollow Bridge I had to leave my life in Indianapolis. I think a part of me resented being forced to move to a small town and I wanted to return to the big city.”

  My heart breaks for the woman – the orphan – in front of me. I had my mom and grandmother and tias growing up. Lila had Agnes and only Agnes. Her resilience continues to surprise me.

  Lila stands abruptly. She walks to the bar, rustling around for a moment, before returning to the couch with the bottle of whiskey. She tops off both our glasses and we clink them together in a silent cheers.

  “Thank you for taking care of Agnes,” Lila says quietly.

  “It’s no bother,” I say, taking another sip of my drink. “It’s my job.”

  Lila frowns. I pause, my glass halfway to my lips. Have I said something wrong? Warning bells start going off in my head.

  “You don’t have to be kind just because you’re a doctor,” Lila says. “You have a great bedside manner. It’s clear you genuinely care about your patients. I was impressed, and not just with how you treated Agnes. Not everyone would play video games with their buddy on a Tuesday night just because he’s going through a hard time.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief. I haven’t messed this up. Yet. In fact, Lila is singing my praises, praises I don’t think I deserve, but it’s still flattering.

  “Ethan was the first friend I made when I moved to Hollow Bridge,” I say. “He’s my best friend.”

  Lila nods and sips her drink. I watch her lips curl around the rim of the glass and I’m possessed with a sudden desire to taste them.

  “May I kiss you?” I blurt, the thought out of my mouth before it’s fully taken shape. She jerks, startled, but smiles over the glass. I watch her carefully put the drink on the coffee table and take mine from my shaking hands.

  When did they start shaking? It’s just a kiss. I’ve been kissing girls since I was thirteen. Why am I so nervous over a kiss?

  I lean in and I’m pleasantly surprised when Lila meets me halfway. It’s just a brush of lips at first. Her lips are soft, softer than I imagined, and fit perfectly against mine. My left arm snakes around her waist, pulling her closer as we deepen the kiss. Her hands grip my hair, slightly pulling at the short strands.

  It’s the best kiss of my life. I’m not sure any kiss I’ve had before even qualifies as kissing.

  Lila takes charge of the kiss and I swear I’ve been electrocuted. She kisses with fire, with passion. She presses closer, her tongue grazing my lips. She doesn’t wait for me to respond before her tongue retreats and she instead pulls my lower lip between her teeth.

  I should send Agnes a thank you card.

  My stomach drops. Oh no. Agnes. My patient. Lila’s aunt. The same aunt who owns the building we are currently in and who could walk in on us at any moment, not to mention any guests who might catch us making out.

  I hate myself for doing it, but I move to break the kiss. Before I can even pull back, I realize Lila is already pulling away from me.

  She practically throws herself on the other side of the couch, desperately putting distance between us.

  “I’m sorry,” she gasps. “I shouldn’t have done that. This was a mistake.”

  Part of me agrees with her. Another part is screaming to talk some sense into her and resume kissing. I can still feel the ghost of her lips on mine.

  I see the fear in her eyes and the rational side wins out. It doesn’t stop my heart from breaking as I mutter a quick goodbye and practically run out of the bed and breakfast.

  Chapter Five - Lila

  I wouldn’t be surprised if Nolan hates me now. I sort of hate myself. I never should have invited him over for a drink. I certainly shouldn’t have kissed him.

  It was a great kiss though. A fantastic kiss, really. The kind of kiss you see in movies. The kind of kiss that makes your heart race. The kind of kiss I'm eager to repeat.

  Now I can’t stop thinking about Nolan, and thinking about Nolan is the last thing I need right now.

  There’s not enough coffee in the world to get me through this morning. Agnes is still sleeping so I’m working the front desk, running on zero sleep. After Nolan left, I cleaned up the sitting room like some sort of zombie, going through the motions, numb to any sort of feeling. It wasn’t until I made my way downstairs and got into bed that everything hit me.

  It’s hard to sleep when you simultaneously feel like a monster and still taste a man’s lips on yours.

  I swore I was done with dating. Apparently, I can’t keep promises, even to myself. I let my emotions and my hormones lead me into temptation. Sweet, sweet temptation.

  I run my hand along my jaw, following the route Nolan’s hand traced last night. His warm palm lightly settled on the juncture of my throat and shoulder, thumb pressing against my clavicle.

  Woah, girl, keep it together! You have a job to do, and Nolan is nothing but a distraction.

  Thankfully, the guests are fairly quiet this morning so there’s no one around to pick up on my tumultuous thoughts. I kept breakfast simple with eggs and bacon and toasted some of the croissants Agnes loves. Only a handful of guests have come down to eat and they seem content to make their tea and coffee and keep to themselves in the dining room.

  Of course, that leaves me with my thoughts, which may be a bad thing.

  Nolan is a great guy. He doesn’t deserve to be treated this way. He deserves someone who doesn’t panic and live in fear of losing everyone they hold dear.

  I need to apologize. I need to explain why I ended our kiss. It was a pretty perfect kiss. I haven’t felt a spark like that in years, maybe not ever. It scares me, honestly, that Nolan and I could have something rare and real. What if I let my guard down and fall in love with him only for it all to be ripped away?

  A loud clicking sound pulls me from my spiraling thoughts. I look up from the desk to see Agnes hobbling into the entryway on her crutches, the metal clicking with each step.

  She looks terrified.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask as fear grips me. Agnes is never frightened. She’s the grounded one. She was the one who pulled me aside in the hospital and told me my parents were gone, then held me as I cried. She’d just lost her brother but remained stoic and strong for me.

  A scared Agnes is like a sign of the apocalypse. It’s big and ominous and you best pay attention to it.

  “Something’s wrong with my leg,” she says, voice wavering.

  I round the desk and lead her to the nearby settee, the same one she was sat on for our reunion just the other day. That already feels like a lifetime ago.

  She sits down gingerly, her left leg sticking out for me to examine. I squat down and push up the hem of her pants to hold her calf. It’s swollen and warm, almost burning to the touch.

  I’m no doctor, but even I know this isn’t good. I also know I need to swallow my fear and be the responsible adult in this situation. I can panic later.

  “I’m taking you to see Dr. Parker,” I say. I stand up as she grabs my arm, nails digging as she clings with a desperation I’ve never seen from her.

  “But the guests,” she whispers, glancing into the dining room. They haven’t noticed us yet, still chatting amiably with one another as they refill their plates and mugs.

  I pull my phone from my pocket and bring up Emma’s number. “Don’t worry about the guests, they have their breakfast. I’ll call Emma to keep an eye on things, then I’m driving you to the doctor.”

  It’s times like this I wish Hollow Bridge had a proper hospital and emergency room. The closest ER is nearly an hour’s drive. I know Nolan is a great doctor, but what if this is outside his realm of expertise? What if I end up delaying Agnes the care she needs?

  Emma picks up as I’m grabbing my purse and keys from behind the desk. “Good morning,” she says with a yawn.

  “Emma, I’m taking Agnes to the doctor,” I say brusquely. “Something’s not right with her leg. Can you come down to The Barn and handle things?”

  “I’m on my way,” she says, suddenly sounding very awake. “You just take care of Agnes.”

  I hang up and turn to my aunt. She’s gone pale and quiet, staring at her leg like she’s never seen it before. I know I’m about ten seconds from breaking down so I have to act fast. I push through the anxiety threatening me at the edges of my mind and instead gently pull Agnes to her feet.

  “Up you go, easy does it,” I say. She wobbles for a moment before finding her center then we slowly make our way outside, turning left down the accessibility ramp she installed years ago for guests. I doubt she thought one day she would need it herself.

  “I’m sorry to be such a nuisance,” Agnes says as we creep down the ramp and onto the sidewalk.

  “You could never be a nuisance, Aunt Agnes,” I say, shaking my head. I ease her the last few steps to the car, unlocking it from the fob.

  Moments later we are both settled in and I peel off for Nolan’s practice before I second-guess myself. He can evaluate Agnes and make the call if we need to rush her to a hospital. I know Agnes will feel more comfortable with him than some random ER doctor. She trusts Nolan.

  And I need him. My heart is screaming at me that Nolan will fix this, he will take care of Agnes and make this all right. But if something is seriously wrong, I also know he will be there to catch me when I fall.

  The assurance of this fact is so deep in my soul it takes my breath away.

  It’s a short drive yet it feels like an eternity. I find myself doing something I haven’t done in years – I pray. God, please don’t take Agnes away from me. Please let her be okay. Heal her. I can’t lose her. I don’t want to be alone.

  We pull up to Nolan’s office and I kill the engine almost at the same time I throw myself out of the car and race to the passenger side to help Agnes. Together we get her inside, startling Lois into dropping the magazine she’s reading.

  “Agnes!” Lois cries. “You scared me. You don’t have an appointment today, do you?”

  “It’s an emergency,” I explain, breathless. I feel Agnes starting to shake and adjust my arm around her to bear more of her weight. “Is Dr. Parker available?”

  Lois nods, concern etched on her face. “You’re in luck. He’s between patients.” She presses the intercom button. “Dr. Parker, Agnes Hawkins is here to see you.”

  A moment later Nolan rounds the corner, a surprised look on his face. His gaze lands briefly on me and I quickly look back at Agnes.

  “It’s her leg,” I say, trying desperately to keep the tears at bay. “It’s swollen and warm to the touch.”

  Nolan nods as he moves to stand on Agnes’s other side. “Let me help you to the exam room,” he says. We carefully shift Agnes so she’s leaning more heavily on him. Nolan takes the lead and gently guides her down the hall. I follow close behind, one hand gently resting on my aunt’s back, grounding us both.

  When we reach the room I help Nolan get Agnes situated on the exam table. She’s still pale, her jaw clenched tight. Tears shimmer in her eyes as she reaches for me and grasps my hand.

  Nolan bends down in front of her. “Agnes, I’m going to pull up your pant leg and touch your calf. Is that okay?”

  Agnes nods jerkily. Nolan rolls up her slacks to just above the knee. The leg looks worse in the fluorescent light of his office. It’s ballooned and red, like a grotesque birthday party decoration. He gently probes her leg. She winces and squeezes my hand.

  “I want to order an ultrasound,” Nolan says. “Give me just a moment to have it wheeled in here.” He squeezes Agnes’s free hand as he stands. “I’ll be right back.”

 

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