EMMA"Thanks for throwing me under the bus." I pinched her arm. "Hey, did you really want to sit there and listen to that boring discussion?" she shot back. "Because I know I didn't." She opened the fridge and pulled out a huge bowl. "And I did need to come and get this. Nico made it for tonight because he is a sweetie and wanted my friends to enjoy some seriously delicious food." "He's so wonderful." I gave her another hug, this time squeezing extra tight. "I'm so glad for you both, Jen. No one knows more than me how much heartache went ahead of this happily ever after." "Right?" She leaned a hip against the counter and nibbled on a chip. "Which is why I hope you're also going to be understanding of my next news-which I wanted you to hear first."A trickle of foreboding ran down my spine. "Okay. That sounds ominous. What's up?" She sucked in a deep breath. "This proposal wasn't as out of the blue as I made it seem. Nico and I have been talking about it for a while-about gett
DEACON"Emma? Do you have a minute?" I stuck my head into our naturopath's small office. She was sitting at her desk, frowning at her desktop computer. "Ummm . . ." She blinked at me as though disoriented. "Deacon. Did you need something?" I smiled. "Sorry. You look like you're in the middle of a project. I'll come back.""No!" She almost cried out the word, and I paused, stepping into the room. "I mean, you don't have to go. I was just reading reports of a new study on metastatic breast cancer and the use of phytochemicals." "Ah." I nodded. "Mrs. Dulinkski?" "Yeah." Emma pushed back from her desk and let out a long sigh. "I don't know why I bother, because when she sees me coming, she gets this look on her face . . . like I'm going to wrestle her to the ground and make her meditate or something. The first thing she always says to me is that she doesn't hold with all that spiritual crap." She rolled her eyes. "I could help her, Deacon. I really could. At the very least, I cou
EMMA"Emma, I know I said this the other night when we had dinner together, but it bears repeating. I'm thrilled that you had a wonderful vacation, but we missed seeing your face around the farm." Anna beamed at me from her seat on the steps of her front porch, where she was watching me cavort with the baby goats . . . who weren't so much babies anymore."I can't believe how much they grew in just over two weeks." I caught one little girl and scooped her into my arms, nuzzling her soft head. "Thanks for covering my part of the care while I was on vacation. I thought about asking Jenny to do it, but I figured she might be more trouble than she was help." Anna chuckled. "She's not exactly farm-friendly, that one. Sweet girl, salt of the earth, but she doesn't know one end of a pitchfork from the other." "You're not wrong." I sniffed. "Did Deacon tell you that she and Nico are moving up north?""He did." Anna's voice gentled. "That's going to be hard on you, isn't it?"I nodded. "
EMMA"So that's it? You and Noah are done? Over? Finito?" Jenny reached to the side of the pool to pick up her beer. I nodded. "Yeah. In the end, it felt right, you know? It wasn't easy, and it wasn't fun to do, but it was right. It was what we needed to do. And we're still friends, which is the best outcome I could've hoped for.""That's so sickeningly mature and healthy." Jenny stuck out her tongue. "If Nico and I ever broke up, which of course we won't, I'd never be able to be friends with him. It would hurt too much to see him living a life without me in it." "I think . . ." I searched for words even as I clung to the side of the pool and lazily kicked my legs in the water. "I think going back to our old friendship is the goal. It's the perfect world ideal. I don't think it's going to be quite like it was, though. As much as we both say we want that, it's not realistic. We're both going to have some residual . . . feelings." "I get that." She nodded. For a few minutes, we s
DEACON"Hey. Are you busy?" I glanced up from my desk, well aware that I was already smiling just at the sound of Emma's voice. Dammit, I had it bad for her. Again. Still. "No more so than usual," I responded, leaning back. "What do you need?" "Nothing pressing, if you're up to your neck in something already. What are you working on?" "Reading resumes from nurse practitioners." I grimaced. "Whose bright idea was it to allow Jenny to move to Virginia, and Darcy to get both married and pregnant?" Emma dropped into the chair across the desk from me and laughed. "Well, Deacon, you know, Jenny didn't ask our permission. She made a choice. And Darcy did, too. But she's not leaving for good, at least as far as I know."I shot Emma a withering glare. "She's getting married to a football player who lives in Tampa, over an hour away from here. And she's having his baby. I can read the writing on the wall. Even if she doesn't put in her notice right away, I don't expect her to come ba
DEACONIf I needed one more reason to be pissed off for life at my father, he'd just given me one. Emma had been about to respond to my promise. She'd been close to saying something-and I clung to the hope that it was what I wanted to hear, not a regretful blow-off. But I'd never know now, because my father, the man who'd abandoned my dying mother and me, the one who'd never stuck around long enough to be more than a shadow in my memories, was a patient in my hospital. Emma trailed behind me as I stalked angrily down the hall with Mira toward the room she'd indicated. "Deacon, hold on. You need to know all this." I came to a sudden halt, and Emma nearly ran into my back. Out of instinct, I caught her arm to steady her even as I wheeled around to face Mira. Emma's hand slid down my forearm to folded itself into mine, a silent comfort that she somehow seemed to know I needed. "What?" I barked at Mira. "What else do I need to know? Did he tell you why the hell he came here of all
EMMA"Night, night, baby boy! Blow Daddy a kiss! Daddy's blowing you a kiss. Kiss Mama for me. I love you, sweet boy. Daddy loves you so much." I stood in the hallway outside of George Brewer's room and listened to him talk to his baby son on video chat. I'd been working in oncology almost since my medical work had begun. Not only that, I'd also grown up hearing stories of both tragedy and triumph from my father's long career. By now, I should've been inured to the sadness that cancer could bring. But apparently not, because here I stood, tears in my eyes, listening to my patient love on his baby over video. George's news was good. He was continuing to respond to treatment, and the supplements that we'd added to his plan were doing everything we'd hoped. He was as healthy as a man his age with his stage of pancreatic cancer could expect to be-maybe more so. Even so, I knew the numbers. I'd read the statistics. The probability that George would be around to cheer in the audience wh
DEACONI'd grown up in the country and was accustomed to the noises of the farm. Bugs chirping, crickets singing, frogs croaking, the groan of tree branches in the wind-I was used to all of those sounds. When I went away to college and then med school and then my residency in Gainesville, I'd learned to live with the city's soundtrack: honking cars, the air brakes on buses, and people shouting in the street. Living in the town of Harper Springs was some kind of happy medium, I decided as I sat in the dark of my living room, shaking the glass in my hand to hear the ice clink. I had the bugs and crickets from the farm along with the distant noise of cars and the occasional siren. Tonight, even though my windows were shut and the air conditioning was humming, I could hear the sound of a baseball game. My next-door neighbor was an older gentleman who liked to sit on his front porch and listen to the games on his ancient radio. Since he was more than slightly hard of hearing, he had that