Balancing Act, page 21
Chapter Eleven
THE EMERGENCY ROOM DOORS swished open, and Zach Throckmorton strode inside, worry creasing his brow. Noah set down his coffee and rose from his seat, walking forward and greeting Gage’s son with a smile. “It’s not a heart attack.”
“Thank God.” Gage’s son’s shoulders sagged with relief. “So, what’s wrong with him?”
“Angina. The doctor will explain everything. They know you were on your way. Press that buzzer”—Noah gestured toward a button mounted beside the door that led back to the exam rooms—“and tell them who you are. He’s in room five.”
“Great. Thanks, man. For everything. If you hadn’t been there…”
“No problem. I’m glad I was around.”
“At least he listens to you. More than he does to me or my brother or my sister.”
As Zach disappeared from the waiting room, Noah returned the January edition of Car and Driver magazine to the rack. He tossed his Styrofoam coffee cup and candy bar wrapper into a trash can and glanced at his watch. Twenty minutes had passed since he’d seen Willow accompany her mother into the ER. Knowing hospitals, she might be another hour. Or twelve.
He might as well go. He could call Willow tomorrow and ask her why Genevieve’s hand had been wrapped in a bloody bandage.
He would call her tomorrow.
No more running and hiding like a kissing coward.
He took two steps toward the door when it whooshed open again, and Helen McDaniel walked in. She went directly to the attendant at the intake desk. “I’m here for Genevieve Prentice. Her daughter is with her now, but she and I are switching places.”
After being directed to room number two, Helen was buzzed back. She never saw Noah.
He wandered over to the watercooler, filled a paper cone, and sipped from it. Slowly. He’d emptied it and was debating a refill or tossing it into the trash when the ER room door opened, and Willow walked out. He crumpled the cone, threw it away, and followed her outside. “Willow!”
She stopped and turned around. “Oh. Hi, Noah.”
“I saw you come in. How’s your mom?”
“She’s okay. She cut her hand. Needed stitches. What are you doing here?”
He gave her a brief synopsis of what had happened with Gage, and she replied, “Oh no. I hope he’ll be okay.”
“Me, too. So far, so good.”
Willow closed her eyes and sighed heavily. “This has been a day for bad medical news.”
Alarmed, Noah asked, “Oh yeah? More than your mother? Not one of your kids, I hope?”
“Kids are fine.” Willow’s brief smile thanked him for his concern about her children. “They’re home with a babysitter. It’s their grandfather. He had a stroke, and he’s not doing well at all.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said.
“It’s been quite the day. I told my mother about my husband and his baby mama. She didn’t take it well, which is why she ended up in the ER.”
“Sounds like quite a story for quite a day. Want to go somewhere to tell me about it? I’ve wanted to talk to you. I owe you an apology for—”
“Noah, is that you?” a male voice said, interrupting.
Noah went stiff and still.
A second person said, “Hey, Noah Tannehill! It is you. Guys, look who’s here. I told everyone your family’s place was somewhere in this neck of the woods. Daniel brought me fishing around here one time.”
Noah closed his eyes at the sound of the two very familiar voices and wished himself a million miles away.
“I’ll be damned. What are the chances?” a third voice asked. “Noah. You’re looking good, man. How’s the leg?”
Like his brother always used to say, wish in one hand and crap in the other and see which fills up faster. Noah opened his eyes and tried to smile as he turned and faced a trio of men with whom he used to work. “Guys. Where’s Sanderson?” Noah asked, referring to the fourth member of their crew. “If you three are here, he can’t be far away.”
“He’s why we’re here. Dumbass broke his arm. He’s in the ER getting it set. Should be about done, we hope.”
Noah knew these men. Adrenaline junkies all. “Climbing accident? Flip a vehicle while off-roading? Bad hang-gliding landing?”
“No. We’ve come here to fish. Arrived last night. Staying out at a nice lodge on Mirror Lake. Raindrop Lodge. You know it? Anyway, Sanderson was putting gas in the car and tried to step over the hose and tripped.”
“Clumsy bastard.”
“He’s lucky he only broke his arm.”
“Enough about us.” The unmarried man in the group turned a flirtatious smile on Willow. “Who is this lovely lady?”
Noah reacted instinctively and placed a hand at the small of her back. “Willow, let me introduce you to Mark Stevens, Jason Brock, and Lyle Keene. I used to work with them. Guys, this is my friend Willow Eldridge. Her mother and aunt own the lodge where you’re staying.”
“Oh yeah?” Jason said. “Great place. We’re in the lodge rooms. They’re clean and comfortable and the food is great.”
Lyle nodded. “Next time we come, we’ll plan ahead and book early enough to score a couple of the cabins. Those look sweet.”
“They are sweet,” Willow said with a smile. “My children and I have been living in a cabin at Raindrop since we moved to Lake in the Clouds after Christmas. We’re getting our own place soon, but I know my kids will be sad to leave.”
Noah figured that was enough small talk, and he’d opened his mouth to say their good-byes when Mark plunged a knife into Noah’s heart by asking, “How are Daniel’s wife and daughter doing? I haven’t seen them since February when Cheryl asked me to fill in for Daniel at Maddie’s school’s daddy-daughter Valentine’s dance. I keep meaning to go by and visit, but you know how it gets. It’s a crazy time of year with Little League.”
Willow turned a curious look Noah’s way. He didn’t want to talk about Daniel or Cheryl or especially Maddie to her or anyone. He attempted to fade the question by focusing on sports. “I know you’re busy with baseball, Mark. How is your older boy’s arm coming along? Has he made his mind up about staying behind the plate, or is he thinking about giving pitching a try after all?”
“He’s happy being a catcher.”
Jason observed, “I don’t see a cane, Noah. Does that mean you’re ready to come back to work?”
“Hot damn,” Lyle said, delight in his voice. “I didn’t even notice. Look at you. You look great.”
“You are coming back to work, aren’t you?” Mark asked. “We sure miss you.”
Noah suddenly had a boulder in his throat. If only they’d left the hospital five minutes earlier, this whole tableau could have been avoided. An awkward silence stretched until Willow’s hand slipped around his arm in silent support. Noah was able to say, “I, uh, haven’t been cleared yet.”
All three men’s gazes shifted to Noah’s leg. They didn’t know that the main problem remained inside his head. Mark cleared his throat, then said, “The station isn’t the same without you around.”
“He’s right,” Lyle agreed. “Nobody plays bad eighties music when I’m trying to sleep anymore. That was your specialty.”
“You coming back for the Memorial Day ceremony this year, Noah? It’s the station’s twenty-fifth anniversary. The chief is putting together a really nice remembrance presentation for our fallen. Of course, I’m sure you know about it already, with Daniel being your brother and all.”
Noah couldn’t have responded to that question had his life depended on it.
Willow, God bless her, stepped up and saved him. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need to check on my children. They’re home with a babysitter, and we didn’t expect a trip to the ER with my mother.”
Noah’s former coworkers took the hint and said their good-byes. Noah’s instinct was to flee to his truck and burn rubber back home. Except he was having trouble making his feet move.
“C’mon, Noah. Let’s get out of here before we see someone else we know. Where are you parked?” When he motioned toward his pickup, which was three spaces over from where they stood, Willow nodded. “Let’s go in your truck. You’re closer.”
“Okay.” Because Noah knew that he was going to have to tell her about Daniel, and he was steamed about it because he wasn’t ready, his voice had a bite to it when he asked, “Where are we going?”
“Well…” Willow offered him a crooked grin. “The first official meeting of the Lake in the Clouds Emotional Wrecks Club can’t happen at my house. My kids are there. We could go up to the lodge, but we risk running into your buddies again. How about the Mountaineer Lanes? I’ve been scheduling some campaign events for my aunt, and I happen to know that there’s no league bowling tonight.”
Noah closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sure. That’ll be fine.”
Tejano music drifted from the open window of a car driving by as Noah hit a button on his key fob. Lights flashed and the door locks thunked their release. Once inside the truck, Noah started the engine, but rather than place his car into gear and exit his parking spot, he sat with the engine idling. Eventually, Willow asked, “Noah?”
“Turns out I’m not feeling the bowling alley for this. Mind if, instead, we head back to my place? I think I’d be more comfortable limiting attendance at this self-help meeting. Also, I have emotional-support puppies.”
She laughed softly. “Actually, I think that’s a good idea. First, let me call home. I need to make sure all is well there and that the kids and the sitter are cool with her putting Emma and Drew to bed.”
With that task completed and her maternal concerns addressed, they headed out of town. Willow suggested that she bring her own car so that he wouldn’t need to take her back for it, but he preferred the return drive to riding alone for twenty minutes right now. Neither one of them spoke during the trip. Willow sat with her head tilted back against the headrest, her eyes closed.
Acting instinctively, he reached over and took her hand in his. She glanced at him and smiled, then closed her eyes once again.
Noah’s thoughts returned to the scene in front of the hospital. What craptastic timing. And yet having Willow beside him when it happened… maybe it was meant to be.
Arriving home, he debated skipping the workshop and heading straight for the comfort of his great room, but Noah was a man of his word, and he’d promised puppies. Besides, the apartment might not be as comfortable as the house, but it came a close second. The outdoor lighting tied to motion detectors switched on, illuminating the workshop’s surroundings as he parked by the side entrance and switched off the engine. “We’re here.”
Willow opened her eyes and sat up. “Another five minutes and you might have heard me snoring. I’m exhausted. ”
“I’m right there with you. It’s been quite the day. Why don’t we go inside and veg a bit before we kick off our… what did you call this?”
“Emotional Wrecks Club.”
“Right.” He snorted a laugh. “How about we delay the opening gavel and veg a little first? Talk about nothing more serious than puppies.”
Willow smiled and opened the passenger-side door. “Well, puppies can be serious.” As she got out and walked around the front of his truck, she passed the SANTA’S WORKSHOP sign and added, “So can Santa Claus. With talk about the Easter Bunny abounding all around, Drew is beginning to put two and two together. He made a couple of discerning observations, and earlier this week, I was afraid he was about to pop the dreaded Is Santa real? question. We both avoided it. Honestly, I think he suspects but doesn’t want to know the truth.”
“Nothing wrong with that. A smart kid will milk an extra Christmas or two of Santa gifts out of it.” Noah opened the door and escorted her inside the building.
“Okay, I’m confused.” Willow gazed around the space. “This is really nice, but I thought this was your workshop. Have you remodeled since I was here?”
A pair of bar stools sat at the bar that separated the galley kitchen from the living space, where a couple of floor-to-ceiling bookcases flanked a stone fireplace. Furnishings were basic and chosen for comfort rather than style—an upholstered chair and ottoman with a good reading lamp to the side of the fireplace, a sofa long enough for Noah to nap on, end tables to put drinks, and a rug here and there added to help protect the wood floor once Marigold wandered into his world.
A circular staircase led to the loft bedroom and a bathroom upstairs. A barn door made from wood that matched the flooring led to his workshop and the downstairs powder room.
“No. We came in the side door. The apartment has always been here. The workshop is through there.” He gestured toward the barn door. “Puppies are this way.”
Noah slid the door open, and the yips and yaps of puppies filled the air.
“Aww…” Willow said in that melting voice that females tended to use around pups. It made Noah smile.
“Are any of them spoken for?” Willow asked.
“Gage wants the girl with the white fiddle face. She’s over in the corner. See?”
“She’s cute.”
“If you want her, she’s yours. I warned him that you’d have the pick of the litter if you decided you wanted one before they were weaned.”
“They’re all cute. I’m happy to choose a different puppy.”
When she started to step over the fence, he cautioned, “Wait—I haven’t cleaned the pen all day. Take them out one or two at a time to play.”
“You sure? You’re not afraid of them making a mess?”
“Floors clean. What would you like to drink?”
“Whatever you’re having. In a plastic or paper cup, if you have one. No sense risking a repeat of today’s rush to the ER.”
Noah returned to the workshop a few moments later carrying brandy snifters filched from the picnic supplies. Recalling that she’d favored the old-fashioned served at her brother’s wedding, he made two of those. He discovered Willow cuddling a sleeping pup and sitting not on the floor but at his workbench. Delight lit her expression. “Noah, this is fabulous. It’s what you worked on last time I was here, isn’t it? What we painted?”
“Yeah.” He set her drink on the workbench beside her.
“This isn’t one of the dollhouses you set on fire.”
“No.” With a mixture of pride and dismay, he watched her study the dollhouse. He probably wouldn’t get out of the upcoming conversation without telling her why he’d built the toy—one more thing he wasn’t ready to talk about.
“I love all the detail. Have you made this furniture, too?”
“Some of it. I made the beds, tables, and chairs. The really small stuff or intricate pieces like that”—he gestured toward a miniature china cabinet—“I ordered.”
“It’s just fabulous.” Willow gazed up at him in speculation. “I’m pretty sure you told me the day we met that you didn’t make dollhouses for children.”
“This is my first one. I’m just fooling around with it,” Noah responded. Then, anxious to change the subject, he gestured toward the puppy she held. “Is that the one?”
“The one?”
“You’re adopting a puppy, right? I’ve been calling him Paint because of that inch of white on the tip of his tail.”
“That begging note in your voice makes you sound like a puppy,” she teased. “Actually, I did tell my mother today that we were taking one of your pups. I told her we might take two.”
“Seriously?”
She shrugged, and in an instant, misery clouded over the light in her eyes. She rose and walked back to the puppy pen. “This one in my arms is a boy. If I wanted to take a girl puppy, too, which one would you recommend?”
“The one with the socks way in the back. Here, let me get her.” Noah stepped into the pen and scooped up the puppy, pausing to give Marigold a good scratch behind her ears when she lifted her head and gave her tail a couple of thumps in greeting. “She’s a sweetheart.”
Willow accepted Socks and handed Paint back to Noah, who snuggled the sleeping pup close to his littermates. “She’s so cute. They’re all so cute. I don’t know how I can choose.”
“Bring the kids over. Let them choose. One for Emma. One for Drew.”
That’s when the misery cloud began to leak and rained down her cheek. “I absolutely am not taking three puppies.”
“Ah.” Noah was able to put the clues together pretty quickly. “Their grandfather’s stroke. You’re taking in the baby?”
“He’s a toddler now. What else can I do?” She gave him a rundown of the arguments she’d made to her mother and her mother’s responses in return. “I understand where she’s coming from. I do. If I were in her shoes, I’d have thrown the glass, too.”
The pup in Willow’s arms stirred and opened her eyes. Willow smiled down at her and cooed and scratched her ears. Noah sort of wished he were a puppy. “When is all this happening?”
“Tomorrow. The nanny is bringing him tomorrow. I’m not prepared. I have nothing a toddler needs or requires. I think I can borrow a crib from the lodge for a night or two, but I’ll be scrambling for supplies. Until I see what sort of sleeper AJ is, it’ll probably work better for Drew and Emma to share a room. They won’t like that. I’ll need to look at the current real estate market with a new eye.”
An idea fluttered through Noah’s mind, and his gaze slid over to the dollhouse sitting on his workbench. “Willow, I have a crib you can use.”
“You do? One you made?” At Noah’s nod, Willow tilted her head and studied him. Then, softly, she asked, “For whom did you make the crib, Noah?”
Well, hell. “Guess I’m gonna have to do this. Let’s go sit in the other room where it’s comfortable.”
Willow moved to return Socks to the pen, but Noah stopped her. He picked up their drinks and headed for the apartment. “Bring the dog. Emotional-support puppy, remember?”
There, he set the drinks on the coffee table and flipped the switch to ignite the gas logs in the fireplace. He needed some sort of background music. Did he have any dirges on his playlist?
No, but he did have some old-time country western. Hank Williams could come pretty close. Recalling the dance with Willow at her brother’s wedding, he went for Patsy Cline turned down low.
