“Sure I do.” Bending his head, he nuzzled her neck. “I’m in the big bad Sierras. I’m scared, Emma.”
She laughed and pushed him away. “Stop it. You don’t need me tonight. We both know it.”
He cocked his head, studying her in the dimly lit hallway. “Actually, I think that’s in reverse. You don’t need me.”
“Not in my bed, no.” She took his roaming hands in hers and then hugged him. “But I needed you here, and you came.”
With a sigh, he hugged her back. “I’ll always come for you, Emma. Always.”
The next day, Emma woke up to dark, wet skies, which fit her mood. She called to check on her dad, who was in the middle of fishing. She treated three thirteen-year-old boys, brought in by their scolding mothers. Seemed that the boys had been pretending to be the Wilder brothers, and had gone hiking in a gully near a river to catch crawdads, and instead had caught poison ivy.
One of the mothers paid with a chicken cheese casserole. Another paid with a check that couldn’t be cashed until the first of the month. The third had a credit card and enough gossip to leave Emma’s head spinning. She learned a whole host of things she didn’t care about, but the one bit of supposed news that stuck with her was that Big Foot had made another sighting—Big Foot?!—but everyone was pretty sure it was just Old Man Pete terrorizing the tourists again.
Good to know.
When the stupid cow bell jangled midday, a woman came in and shook off her wet, lightweight jacket. Emma recognized her as the woman she’d seen in the frozen aisle of the grocery store, the one who’d told Stone she hoped that Cam got dumped by his new fiancé. She wore black jeans and a black t-shirt, with a white and black checkered apron that said Wishful Delights. She was carrying a matching black and white bag that smelled like heaven as she limped to the front desk. “I hope to God you and your big city airs can handle a toe infection.”
Emma did her best to hide her irritation at the “big city airs” comment. “Toe infections welcome.”
The woman, dark brunette, exotic and beautiful, laughed, a low husky sound that probably drew men like moths to a flame. “So it’s true then, you did actually find yourself a sharp wit. Thank God.”
When Emma just stared at her, her patient let out a breath. “You don’t remember me.”
“I remember you from the grocery store. You have a dislike for the Wilder brothers.”
“Ha! No, that’s actually not quite accurate. I had the great misfortune of loving one. But that’s another story altogether. I’m Serena Salvo, from your first grade class. Class bitch,” she clarified.
“The teacher’s pet,” Emma said, remembering now. “You were the one who always got to go out to recess first.”
“Ah, now it’s coming back to you.” She grimaced. “Remember, it was all a long time ago, right?”
A rush of childhood memories hit her. Emma had been the quiet bookworm, a nerd in-the-making, in a town that prized athletics over brains. Her school life had been hell. “You sat behind me and cut my ponytail off.”
“Okay now that was an accident,” Serena said over her shoulder as she limped toward the exam rooms.
“You lifted it up like a trophy and laughed.”
“Hello, first class bitch, remember? But if it helps, I’m extremely remorseful.”
“Only because you got caught.”
“Well that,” Serena agreed, preceding Emma into the first room. “And because I lost dance lessons for a month.”
“I looked like a boy for three months.” Emma sat on the doctor’s stool and began a new chart.
“Yeah.” Serena winced as she sat on the table. “Jeez, I was thinking you’d be over it by now, but just in case, I brought incentive.” She held up that delicious smelling bag. Wriggled it. “See? I’ve turned over a new leaf.”
“What is it with people bringing food instead of cash?”
“Oh, I have a checkbook, too. Now aren’t you glad to see me?”
Emma studied her face. She had been a beautiful little girl and that hadn’t changed. She’d been mean-spirited, and Emma hoped like hell that had changed. “You once ratted me out for copying, when it was you who copied. I lost hall monitor privileges.”
“Ah, so you still have the memory of an elephant. Excellent. Do you by any chance remember what happened to the pearl necklace I stole from my mother and lost right before Christmas vacation that year? She’s never forgiven me.”
Emma sighed again and guided Serena’s foot up to the table. “Your father was mayor. He was a nice man.”
“He had a heart attack and died when I was in fifth grade.”
“I’m very sorry.”
“He was screwing my teacher in the lunch room and the custodian found them. On second thought, that might be what my mother hasn’t forgiven me for.”
“How was that your fault?” Emma asked, horrified.
“My teacher.” Emma shrugged. “Who knows. Listen, make this toe thing painless, and I’ll keep you in brownies for the rest of the month.”
Emma blinked. “No promises about being nice?”
“Trust me, you’d rather have my brownies.”
“I don’t intend to be here that long, but I’ll do my best on the painless part.”
Spencer stuck his head in the exam room door. “Hey, Em. I’m going into town, need anything?”