The Bequest
Chapter 32—Abigail

The closest ER is forty-five minutes away, in Green River, Wyoming. I'm too upset to leave any of my kids with Maren, and they're all worried about Whitney, whose arm is already swollen, so everyone piles into my car. "Maybe we can go out to eat after," Whitney says.

She's the cutest kid, always looking for something good in every situation.

"I just wish Emery could have come."

"Aunt Mandy has some things to talk to her kids about," Izzy says.

"Emery doesn't need to hear it," Gabe says. "She's already nice."

She is one of the sweetest kids I've met. I wonder what happened with Maren. I suppose every child reacts to grief and trauma in their own way. Clearly, high school has been hard on Maren.

Apparently, Sunday night is a busy time at the Castle Rock Medical Center. After waiting for over an hour, I finally send Ethan to get fast food. "Anything you can find." I press cash into his hand. "Be careful with the rental car. You're not covered."

"Alright little munchkins. What do you want? McDonald's? Taco Time? Subway? Or we could try a place called the Arctic Circle." He fakes shivering. "Could be great, but it's risky."

"Whoa, there are so many restaurants here," Gabe says.

I suppress my laugh. Compared to home, this town is barely a blip, but compared to Manila, it may as well be New York City. "I vote for Taco Time. We've only been gone for a week and I already miss Mexican food." "Sure," Izzy says.

"I like tacos," Whitney says. "As long as they're not super spicy."

I laugh. "Mild everything."

Ethan shakes his head. "You girls are so weak sauce."

Of course, because it's the way these things work, they finally take us back two minutes after he leaves. "Maybe we'll be done by the time he's back," Whitney says.

"What happened to you?" The doc's looking at a chart as he walks in. When he looks up, a smile on his face, I drop my purse.

Because the doctor is none other than Steve Archer, our horse trainer.

Obviously, there's been some kind of mix-up.

"Is this a joke?" I ask.

He freezes, his eyes shifting slowly around the room, starting on Whitney and stopping on me. "Abigail." The friendly, 'I'm a cool guy' doctor smile is gone, replaced with an expression I can't read at all. "Whitney got shoved against a water trough. I think her arm's broken," I say. "We need to see a doctor to get some X-rays."

"You're in luck, then," he says. "Since I happen to be a doctor."

I swallow.

"Whoa, you're a horse trainer and a doctor?" Izzy whistles. "That's so cool. I wanna be a horse trainer doctor, too."

"I'd say that I'm a part-time horse trainer these days," he says. "Mostly I help people with problems and break a few horses a year for fun."

"But you're really a people doctor, right?" Gabe asks. "Not a horse doctor who's, like, filling in because it's such a small place?"

He laughs. "I'm really a people doctor. Went to medical school and everything."

How could I not know?

It hits me then, his nickname. The Horse Doc. I thought it was because he fixed up horses with problems, or as he says, helps horses with their people problems. As if he doesn't know what to say either, he takes two more steps and reaches Whitney's side. "Let me see that arm, kiddo."

She flinches when he reaches for her.

"This won't hurt," he says. "It may be a little sore, but it won't hurt, I promise."

I'm surprised to see her visibly relax. Probably spending five hours in the last week listening to him bark orders helps her trust him here, too.

He holds her arm firmly but gently and tugs it one way, then the other. He asks her to squeeze his hand, and lift. "I think you're right," he finally says. "I think she's broken her radius, likely a green stick, but we'll know once we get the X-rays." I exhale. "Okay."

He meets my eyes. "It's going to be fine. Kids heal really fast."

"Thanks."

He's utterly and completely professional-which isn't really a surprise. He's exactly the same way during lessons. Calm while managing several people and animals at the same time. Even-handed, attentive, bright. But how can he hold down this job while drinking so much? And sleeping until two in the afternoon? The horses don't mind, but I assume the people do.

"Oh." It hits me then-he's an ER doc. He might have been sleeping, not because he was up drinking, but because he was working all night. "What?"

"Did you work night shifts last week?"

He shrugs.

"That's why you slept all day."

"You were paying attention to when I was asleep?"

"I could hear your white noise machine," I confess.

He smacks his head. "How embarrassing."

"Why didn't you tell me you're a doctor?"

"People act different around doctors," he says. "I wouldn't have mentioned it until sometime after June 27, if I had my way." His smile's just for me, and it feels like the whole world drops away.

Then his words register. June 27th. That's the day after I get my internet. He's saying he didn't mean to tell me what he does for a job... until after we went on a date.

After the long wait to be seen, I almost get whiplash with how quickly they do the X-rays, read the results, and return to wrap her arm in a cast. "The good news is that it is just a greenstick fracture," he says. "They heal quickly and don't require surgery or pins."

"That's a relief," I say.

"I doubt she'll have any trouble from this more than six weeks down the road."

"But can I still ride in the cattle drive?" Whitney's face is so eager.

Steve ruffles her hair. "Not this one, kiddo, but don't worry. You're only ten. You'll have a chance at some point, I'm sure."

Whitney frowns. "We're going home at the end of the summer, and the ranch is getting sold to aliens."

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Steve snorts. "Aliens?"

"That's what the will says."

"I thought it was a charity?"

"This would be a nonprofit." I shrug. "It was a passion of Uncle Jed's, apparently."

"Bizarre," he says.

I can't argue. A few moments later, I sign some forms and we're ready to go. Ethan, predictably, shows up just as we're leaving. "Good thing you're here," I say. "I was worried we'd have to walk home."

"I come with food. Tacos for everyone." Ethan starts handing out tacos and does a double take when he sees Steve. "What are you doing here?"

"He works here," I say.

"Yeah, right." But even as Ethan scoffs, his eyes widen as he takes in Steve's scrubs and white coat. "Whoa, really? That's crazy."

"Can you spare a moment?" Steve asks.

Ethan answers for me. "We'll eat. Take as much time as you want."

The waiting room has cleared out, which is probably a relief to Steve. "Is anything wrong?" I ask. "If our insurance won't cover everything, we've got an HSA."

"No, not about that." He waves his hand in the air as if money stuff is boring. I suppose it is. "Look, I just wanted to make sure that you're alright."

"Kids fall, sometimes. I mean, in this case, she was pushed, but..."

35

He chuckles. "Not about Whitney either. I wanted to make sure we're alright."

"Oh. I'm fine-there isn't a 'we' here, that I know of."

"I'm sorry I didn't mention I was a doctor. I figured it was better for you to think that I'm-"

"A drunk?"

His jaw drops. "A what?"

I shrug. "Empty beer bottles in the barn and full ones in the tack room fridge. Sleeping all day..."

He laughs. "You didn't think that."

"What was I supposed to think?" He can't seem to stop laughing.

"You don't drink, I take it?"

He stops laughing, finally, and wipes his eyes. "I'll have a drink now and then, but never enough to make me sleep late. Certainly not enough to need alcohol in the tack room." "You fell asleep on a bale of hay," I point out. "And I saw the beer in the tack room fridge myself."

"The day we met was right after my first night shift. One day prior, I'd taken in a new horse." He runs his hand over his face. "Denver I think you met him."

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"New horses make you day drink?" Oh! "Or maybe you needed something to help you sleep?"

"Woman! You talk so much you don't let anyone get in a word."

I snap my mouth shut.

"Denver came up North because he stopped sweating. It's something that happens in hot and humid places like New Orleans. A buddy of mine sent him to me. Usually the second they leave the humid, boggy places, they start sweating again, but Denver didn't."

I am still so confused.

"A very particular kind of beer, Guinness, will kick start their system and make them sweat again. It took a few days for Denver, but it worked. Only that morning, I was probably too tired to toss the bottles, and I was so exhausted while watching him drink his beer, that I sat down on a hay bale..."

So he's a doctor, and I'm an idiot who jumps to conclusions.

"You can talk now," he says playfully.

"I don't know what to say."

"Say you're looking forward to June 27th."

I was, but for some reason, I'm not anymore. "I never lie."

He blinks. "Lie?"

"The more I think about it, I don't think us touring the area is a good plan. I'm only here for the summer, and you clearly have a very full plate."

"I can't believe it."

"What?"

"You've got to be the only woman in America who doesn't want to spend any time with me once you find out I have a respectable job."

"It's not the job-I'd have come to the same conclusion either way."

He stares at me for a long time, as if he's weighing my words.

"Dr. Archer," a nurse says. "The patient in room 6 is complaining of nausea."

He waves at her. "Coming." But he turns back when he's only a few steps away. "We still on for a morning lesson at your place tomorrow?"

I nod.

"Alright. See you then."

All the way home, I think about his shock. Most women probably would be more excited about a handsome, rugged, doctor than they are about a handsome, rugged horse trainer. But a doctor feels real to me. I knew nothing could happen with a horse trainer. After all, when I go home, it's not like a horse trainer would sell his barn and move to Houston.

But a doctor could.

Which means this might be more than a palate-cleansing fling.

This suddenly feels very, very real. And real is too much for me right now. Maybe ever. Which means that I already know what I'll say, no matter how many times he asks me out.

No. Always no.