Whenever You Come Around (3 page)

As if summoned by his thoughts, Charity came out of the market pushing a cart full of canvas shopping bags. At least he thought it was Charity. The photos in the newspaper hadn’t done her justice. She’d been a bookish sort back in school. A little plump. Kind of a plain Jane, but nice. And very, very bright.

Nothing plump or plain about her now
. Slender and shapely, she wore skinny jeans, a sky-blue fitted top, and high heels—heels that didn’t belong anywhere in these mountains.

She turned to a dog that lay in the shade. With a quick motion, she freed the animal’s leash from a concrete post. Then, leash in hand, she grabbed the handle of the shopping cart again and started toward her car. Halfway across the lot, she glanced up and saw Buck. She stopped, a strange expression crossing her face. Almost as if she found meeting up with him unpleasant or something.

“Hi, Buck.” She smiled.

He must have imagined her first reaction. She sounded friendly enough now. “Hey, Charity. Is that really you? Haven’t seen you in years. How are you?”

“I’m fine.” She used the remote to open the back of her vehicle. “How about you?”

“Here. Let me get those for you.” He strode over to help load the new-looking canvas bags full of groceries into the car.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to—”

“My mom would tan my hide if I didn’t help a lady.”

Charity took a step back, leaving him more room to work. He had all the bags loaded into the vehicle in a matter of moments. After closing the rear door, he turned toward her again. She stood with arms crossed over her chest, looking defensive. As if she didn’t want to be near him. No sign of that fleeting smile. Maybe he hadn’t been wrong about her reaction.

Hoping to thaw the chill between them, he said, “I like your dog.”

Her expression didn’t change. Not a bit. “Thanks.”

Stubborn, isn’t she?
Well, he could be stubborn too. “How’s the trip for your folks so far? Are they having a great time?”

At last there came a glimmer of a smile again. “Yes. I had an e-mail from them last night.” She drew a deep breath, as if steeling herself to continue the conversation. “They’re still getting over the jet lag but are enjoying the sites of London before they head to Paris.”

“Glad to hear it. Are you up here for long?”

She didn’t answer at once. “For the summer, actually.”

“The summer? I guess that means I’ll see more of you
then, now that we’re neighbors. You knew I bought the place next door to your parents, right?”

“Yes, I knew. But I don’t plan to be out and about much. I’ll be writing most of the time. And listen, I really must get back to the house. I’ve got lots to do.”

Buck couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten the brush-off from a woman. It irritated him more than it should, and now he was the one who wanted to leave. “Sure. Don’t want to keep you. I’ll take the cart in. That’s where I was headed anyway.”

At least going inside the store was what he’d intended. But things quickly went awry. Charity started to turn. Then she gave a little squeal of surprise and swayed to the side, looking as if she might topple over. Buck shoved the cart away and grabbed for her, but before he took hold, something caught him from the behind his knees, causing them to buckle. Next, his legs were yanked out from under him. He tried to break his fall with his hand. Despite it, he hit the ground hard.

For one blessed moment he felt nothing but surprise. Then the pain shot through him. A white-hot haze of agony. So bad he couldn’t be sure where in his body it came from. Not good. He closed his eyes, sweat instantly beading his forehead.

“Buck. Oh, I’m sorry.” Charity’s voice seemed far away. “Cocoa, sit.
Sit!
”

Buck groaned and tried to push himself up from the blacktop. The pain became more specific as his right arm crumpled beneath him.

Charity knelt beside him. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t think so,” he answered, breathing hard. “What happened?”

“The leash. Cocoa. Oh, I’m so sorry.”

Someone called Charity’s name.

“We need the EMTs, Mrs. Cook,” she shouted back, looking toward the store entrance.

At least Buck thought the store was in that direction. The world felt upside down and inside out right now, so he couldn’t be sure of anything.

“I think you’ve broken your wrist. It’s . . . it’s turned kind of . . . funny. Try to hold still.”

Better not to look
, he thought, closing his eyes again. “I must’ve twisted my ankle too.” He spoke through clenched teeth. “It’s like it’s on fire.”

“The EMTs will be here soon.” She took his left hand in hers and held on firmly.

Buck didn’t doubt his wrist was broken. His ankle, too, more than likely. He knew what it felt like—between horses and sports, he’d been busted up before.

But never at the start of the tourist season
.

His heart sank. If he had a broken bone or two, he was in trouble. He’d have to find another outfitter to fill in for him on the trips he’d booked for the next few weeks. Finding somebody good on such short notice wouldn’t be easy.

Nothing about this accident is
going
to help my bottom line
.

Crazy, the way those concerns shot through his head even as he made an effort to draw breath and ignore the pain.

Chapter 2

K
INGS
M
EADOW HAD A SMALL MEDICAL CLINIC THAT
served the community as a hospital for noncritical cases. That was where the EMTs took Buck after stabilizing his wrist and ankle. Charity followed the ambulance from the market to the clinic and then sat in the waiting area, feeling guilty.

Why, why, why, did this have to happen? As if I didn’t have enough to deal with
.

She’d felt the spiked heel of her shoe drop into a crack in the pavement of the store’s parking lot. If she hadn’t cried out in surprise, afraid she would fall . . . If Buck hadn’t shoved the shopping cart and grabbed for her . . . If none of those things had happened, maybe Cocoa wouldn’t have been startled and wouldn’t have darted behind him, the leash catching him at the knees. Cocoa was a medium-sized dog, but she was solid muscle from head to toe. She was strong enough to take down a man double Buck’s size.

The door to the clinic swung open, and Ken Malone
strode into view, bright sunlight at his back. Unlike Buck, Charity had seen Ken on a few of her rare visits home. He was the principal at the high school—had been for about five years—and his wife, Sara, was a close friend of Terri’s.

Ken looked around. When he saw Charity, he walked in her direction rather than going to the reception desk. “Are you here with Buck?”

She nodded. “I’m pretty sure he broke some bones.”

“What happened?”

“He fell in the parking lot of the Merc.”

Ken’s eyebrows arched. “Fell?”

“My dog knocked him off his feet,” she clarified with great reluctance.

Buck’s brother might have had something more to say to that, but he was interrupted by the appearance of the doctor. Charity didn’t know the young-looking man in the white coat and assumed he was the new physician her mother had told her about. Gray something or something Gray. He’d come to Kings Meadow about eight months ago, if she remembered right.

“I’m Dr. Frederick.”

That was it. Dr. Gray Frederick.

“Are you Mr. Malone’s brother?” the doctor continued, looking at Ken.

“Yes. How is he?”

“He’s broken bones in his right wrist and ankle. Surgery isn’t necessary, but he won’t be very mobile for the next six to eight weeks. He can’t put weight on his ankle, and with the broken wrist, crutches won’t be of much use to him. He’s going to need help, especially at first. He tells me he lives alone.”

“Yes, he does.”

“Can you stay with him for a few days?”

“Is it that serious?”

“It would be better if he wasn’t alone right at first.”

Ken ran the fingers of one hand through his hair. “I can help out, but I can’t be with him 24/7. My wife’s pregnant and having a difficult time. I need to be nearby as much as possible for her and our three kids.”

The doctor’s eyes shifted to Charity. She supposed he wondered if she was the pregnant sister-in-law. Which she obviously wasn’t. But with the doctor’s gaze on her, her guilt over the incident surged back to life. “I’m staying next door to him for the summer. I . . . I can look in on him.” Oh, how difficult it was to say those words. She’d come here to work, not to take care of Buck Malone. Even if it was her fault he needed help.

Ken said, “We can count on his friends to pitch in too.”

“Good. Good.” The doctor nodded. “Then I’ll get back to my patient. You’ll have a bit of a wait before he’s ready to go home.”

“No problem, Dr. Frederick.” After the doctor walked away, Ken sat on the chair next to Charity. “This came at a bad time for everybody.”

“I . . . I’m sorry to hear about Sara having a rough go of it.”

“Thanks. The good part is that our kids are at an age where they can look after themselves for the most part. Our youngest, Jake, is ten.”

“Ten? Already?” For a moment she remembered what might have been.

Ten years
.

“Yeah. Time goes by fast.”

Sometimes, maybe. Sometimes it crawls by
.

She mentally slapped herself.
Stop it!
She hated the way her thoughts kept twisting, the feeling of being stuck in the past. Hated it. Even hated herself because of it.
Why can’t I just move on?
It wasn’t as if she hadn’t tried.

“Hey, listen,” Ken said, breaking into her thoughts. “Would it really be all right for you to check in on Buck every now and then?”

She drew in a long, slow breath, longing to say,
No, come to think of it. It isn’t all right
.

Ken didn’t seem to notice. “I know he’ll get help from friends. But, well, it would give me peace of mind to know you’re right there next door and willing and able to help if you’re needed.”

What choice did she have? The accident was her fault, plain and simple. Who better to help him? Besides, if she didn’t give aid to a neighbor and her mom heard about it, there’d be you-know-what to pay.

She rose from the waiting area chair. “Give me a call when you’ve brought Buck home.” Fishing for a business card, she handed it to Ken. “When the breeze is right, the signal is strong enough for you to catch me on my mobile phone. Otherwise call my parents’ house line.”

“I’ll do it.” He wiggled the card. “See you in a while.”

M
EDICATION HELPED DULL THE PAIN IN
B
UCK
’
S
body, but it didn’t help much with the worry circling in his head. He wouldn’t be able to walk for weeks. He was
right-handed but had no use of his right wrist. He would have to contact his clients and either cancel their trips or find new guides for them. Either way, he’d lose important income and rack up debt at the same time. His high-deductible insurance would help cover some of the medical expenses but not much. Not enough. And who would feed and water his animals twice a day? Another favor to ask of someone. Not easy for a guy with an independent spirit.

“I’ll come over as often as I can,” his brother said as he drove toward Buck’s home. “Friends will pitch in. You know that already. Probably won’t have to worry about food the entire time you’re laid up. I bet there’ll be at least two casseroles delivered by the ladies of Kings Meadow before dinner tonight.”

Buck closed his eyes. Food didn’t sound too good to him. The drugs were making him dizzy and queasy. It was a rare thing for him to take even an over-the-counter pain reliever, let alone anything as strong as what they’d given him at the clinic, and he was definitely feeling it.

“And Charity offered to look in on you since she’s staying right next door.”

Buck pictured blue eyes and dark-blond hair and high heels, but he couldn’t pull up the entire face. His head was stuffed with cotton. Ken asked a question, but Buck couldn’t make sense of his brother’s words . . .

The next thing he knew, Ken’s vehicle was parked close to Buck’s back door and his brother stood at the passenger’s side door, ready to help him out.

“Think we can manage this?” Ken asked.

Buck blinked a few times. “Yeah, I think so.”

He twisted slowly on the seat and set his good foot on the ground. Ken reached in, putting his hands beneath Buck’s arms, and heaved him up and out of the car. He then stuck a crutch under Buck’s left armpit.

Buck swayed unsteadily. “I think my good leg’s made of rubber.”

“Not sure I can carry you, bro, but I’ll try if I need to.”

“No. I can do this. Just give me a second. The meds they gave me aren’t playing nice with my equilibrium.”

Ken held Buck steady until he was ready to try hopping on one foot toward the door, using the crutch on his left side and his brother on his right. It took awhile, but eventually they made it into the house. They stopped in the living room and Buck dropped onto the sofa.

I’m as winded as an old man
.

Ken went to the bedroom, returning with pillows to prop up Buck’s leg. “What else can I get you? Need help into the bathroom?”

“Just some water, I think.”

“And the telephone. You’re going to have to call for help when nobody’s here with you.” Ken walked to the kitchen as he spoke, raising his voice a little while in the other room. “No trying to get around yourself. No weight on that ankle. You’ve got to follow doctor’s orders or you’ll pay for it later.”

Buck groaned. Having to ask for help didn’t come easily for him. He was the one used to helping others, not being helped.

I
can
do for myself
.

Ken returned with a bottle of water and the telephone. “Don’t do anything stupid, Buck, while you’re here alone.”

“I won’t.” He closed his eyes. “All I want to do is sleep right now. Just let me go to sleep.”

His brother might have spoken again, but Buck heard nothing more.