Timber Creek
Page 41“I…oh…thank you.” She fantasized about it for a second, then tied on her apron, knotting it with a sharp tug. “But I can’t. Emergency clinics aren’t exactly cheap.”
“I’m sorry. Believe me, I remember how it was with Dad.” Laura frowned and reached out to her, putting a hand on her arm. “You let us know if there’s anything we can do.”
Helen made herself not flinch away from the unexpected contact. The woman’s sympathy seemed genuine, and it wasn’t what she would’ve expected.
She gave her a sad smile. “You could rob a bank for me.”
“I’m afraid this won’t be the first of your bills, either. Make sure they itemize it all for you. They’ll get you for every Band-Aid and cotton swab. I’d be happy to help you review it all as it comes in. Unfortunately, I’ve gotten good at parsing medical invoices.”
The offer floored her, and Helen was thanking her when Edith bustled in. “Where’s our little patient?” Mrs. Bailey went straight to the booth, wrapping an arm around the girl, tucking her close and stroking her hair. “Ellie Lynn Haskell, I am taking you up to the house right now. You’re going to spend the day with me. I’ll even let you sit in Bear’s chair.”
Laura smiled. “Just like Goldilocks.”
Ellie went wide-eyed. “Can I?”
Edith looked to Helen. “Please say I can take her.”
She felt something unclench in her chest. “Really? You sure you don’t mind?”
“Are you kidding? It’ll be nice to have a little one underfoot again.” Edith plucked Ellie’s glass from the table and bustled behind the bar. “How about a refill? Do you want to try Sprite? That was always my girls’ favorite.”
Laura laughed. “Mom’s a big believer in the clear fluids. Hopefully you won’t mind your daughter drinking a gallon of soda today.”
“No, I appreciate it,” she said, meaning every word. “I wanted to thank you again for driving her home last night. And also…” She gave Laura a probing look. “Thank Eddie for me.”
The girl blushed, and it was a sight Helen never thought she’d see. “The cat’s out of the bag, huh?”
So, her and Eddie…would wonders never cease? But the Bailey girl seemed to live a charmed life, so in some ways it was no surprise. She told her genuinely, “He’s a good one, Laura.”
What she wouldn’t give for a man who dealt. A man who could be a source of comfort and strength instead of trouble. “You’re lucky.”
Laura opened her mouth to speak, but she just stood there for a moment, at a loss for words. Their eyes met for a strange, prolonged moment. So, they really were a couple now, though it appeared maybe Laura was still getting used to the idea. Helen had to wonder if she truly understood what a good man she’d found.
The bell jingled as a different Jessup walked in.
Laura brightened, appearing a bit relieved that their moment of bonding was over. “Hey, Scott.” He was in his ranger uniform, so he was clearly on duty. “Grabbing an early lunch?”
He went straight to Ellie. “Nah, just came to check on this girl here.” He fished in his pocket and brought out a pack of cards. “I brought a little get-well present.”
Helen felt herself choke up. It stunned her how the town was rallying around her. For years, she’d kept herself at arm’s length, assuming everyone was so judgmental, but that wasn’t it at all. Everyone cared; they’d just been looking for a reason to cross the divide.
Touched, she turned her back, swallowing hard, busying herself with refilling ketchup bottles. “Whatcha got?”
“A pack of Junior Ranger cards.” He settled next to Ellie in the booth.
Edith joined them. Using her dramatic mother voice, she said, “Oh, look, Ellie. How nice is that?” The woman was going to make a wonderful grandmother someday.
“Each one pictures some bit of California wildlife,” Scott said, peeling off a sticker and putting it on Ellie’s shirt. “You’ve got to study up, if you’re going to be an honorary forest ranger.”
With her daughter so happily occupied, she set about doing the lunch prep, and Laura joined her. They got into a rhythm, where one unscrewed and wiped down ketchup bottles while the other filled them back up.
Laura shot a look at Scott, then muttered, “Studly job, good looking, and he likes animals? That man must get laid right and left.”
Helen snickered at the unexpected comment, and boy, how she appreciated a topic other than medical bills and wayward husbands. She stole a peek, too, and had to agree—Scott sure did fill out his uniform nicely. “Can’t argue there.” They shared a laugh, and it felt so good to have a nice, normal, easy exchange with another woman for once. “I guess Eddie must’ve called him and told him what happened.”
“Eddie called everyone,” Laura said. “Doctor Mark was first on the list, though. He prescribed clear fluids, fresh air, and lots of Nickelodeon.”
Laura hesitated, then asked, “Did Mark talk to you about it? He said he called you, but wouldn’t elaborate. Patient confidentiality and all that.”
It felt good to be confiding in someone, even if that person was Laura Bailey. “Yeah,” she admitted, “we talked.”
“And?”
Helen let herself have a moment of gallows humor. “I asked if he could prescribe my husband a pill that’d make him less of a jackass.”
Laura smirked. “No luck, I take it?”
She shook her head. “He said compulsive gambling is an addiction like any other. Sorry to say, there are no magic pills for my husband.”
“I looked around on the Web late last night,” Laura said, and with a rueful smile, added, “You can imagine I was pretty amped when we got home. Anyway, I read that the biggest challenge is getting the person to admit he has a problem. But if he recognizes it and takes it day by day…” She tapered off. “Does Rob get that his gambling is a problem?”
“If he doesn’t, he will when I’m through with him.” She sighed heavily. The line would’ve sounded funnier and felt better if it weren’t just so damned sad. “He says he’s sorry. I don’t know…maybe the scare was big enough to shock some sense into him.” She shrugged. “He said he thought he was helping us. As if he might’ve actually hit some jackpot.” She forced a smirk, because if she didn’t, she’d cry.
“I say make him grovel.” Laura had noted Helen’s attempts at levity and was trying to play along.
But she felt her smile fall from her face. “I don’t know if I can ever forgive him.”
There was nothing to say to that, and the women grew silent. Gradually, she tuned back into the sound of Scott, flipping through his ranger cards.
“Here’s a black bear,” he was saying, explaining each animal to Ellie. “We’ve got lots of those around here, and that’s why we lock up our trash. We all have to live together, though, don’t we? Hey, here’s a chipmunk. And a gray fox. Ooh, you’ve got a mountain lion, too—don’t run into many of those, thankfully. Oh, and these guys are special. A spotted owl. You don’t see many of them anymore.”
“One sec,” Laura muttered, and left her with the ketchup bottles. “Can I see?”
“He has polka-dots,” Ellie said.
“You sure?” Scott asked. “They’re pretty rare.”
“Is it endangered?”
Helen wiped her hands and joined them, wondering at the woman’s sudden nature curiosity.
“Technically, it’s just a threatened species,” Scott said, “but a lot of people are fighting to get it on the endangered list. I’d be surprised if they had a nesting ground near the creek. Usually stuff like logging and construction is limited around critical habitat areas.”
There was a clattering in the kitchen, and Hope burst through the door, a plate in hand. “I made Ellie…” Her eyes snagged on Scott, and her cheeks flamed bright red. “I made cinnamon toast. For Ellie. I thought she’d like toast. With cinnamon.” She glanced again at Scott. “Hi,” she said awkwardly.
Scott’s eyes widened. “Hi.”
Laura and Helen shared a quick, loaded look, and the Bailey girl said, “You two don’t know each other? Scott Jessup, Hope Fitzpatrick, our new employee.”
“Hi,” he repeated lamely.
The look she and Laura shared was longer this time, and they didn’t have to say anything, because the meaning was clear: a speechless Jessup was rarer than any owl.
Thirty-two
Laura stood behind the bar, going through the motions…wiping down the counter, checking stock, cutting limes, refilling the glass tray. But mostly she was thinking.
She had what she needed. She’d done some research. The northern spotted owl was federally protected as a threatened species. She’d seen the job site—the construction wouldn’t go near the nesting ground, and Eddie’s project wasn’t nearly big enough to be a threat, anyhow. But still, she knew it’d be enough to put a hold on their work for a good, long while. She could stop the construction.
But would she?
She could make a stink about it. Notify environmental groups. Call television stations in Reno, get it on the evening news. Just one hint of bad press, and she had no doubt Fairview would pull out. They’d spent years, not to mention a bundle of marketing dollars, pitching smaller, boutique resorts just like this one as eco-friendly destinations. Tourists came from all over to meditate and get back to nature, all the while dishing out beaucoup bucks for things like mud facials and seaweed wraps. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">