Chapter Six

"What are we doing here?" Maple peered out the windshield of Ford's pickup as he pulled into one of the prime parking spots along Bluebonnet's town square.

He shifted the truck into Park and nodded at Cherry on Top Bakery, situated directly in front of them. "I promised you pie. Or have you decided to forgo that condition, too?"

Maple's heart thumped at the mention of her conditions. Missing her rideshare had seemed like a perfectly logical decision an hour ago, when she'd been sitting at Oliver's bedside with Lady Bird. Now, not so much.

She swallowed. Oliver had woken up shortly after she'd learned Ford was the boy's doctor. Maple had seen his eyes flutter open and then slam shut when he realized the adults were still there. Oliver made a valiant attempt at faking it, no doubt to prolong saying goodbye to Lady Bird. But as soon as Ford told Maple in a loud whisper that the hospital breakfast for the day would include sweet-potato, hash-brown egg nests—Oliver's favorite, apparently—the child sat up, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

Ford had escorted Maple and Lady Bird out of Oliver's room just as his breakfast arrived. Approximately two seconds later, panic settled in the pit of Maple's stomach.

What was she doing? She was supposed to be halfway to Austin right now, not sitting in close proximity to an actual gazebo beside Ford in his charming, vintage pickup truck. He had one of those classic turquoise Fords from the 1960s, and naturally, it was in perfect, shiny mint condition. What else would Dr. Small Town Charm drive?

"The condition absolutely still stands." Maple was starving. She hadn't eaten a thing since diving head-first into the peach pie Ford had left on her front porch the night before. "But look, they're not open yet."

She waved toward the Sorry, We're Closed sign hanging in the bakery's front window. The rest of the town square was deserted, as well. Maple wasn't sure what time sleepy small towns like this typically woke up, but apparently it was sometime after 6:42 a.m.

Ford shrugged and flashed her a smile worthy of a toothpaste commercial. "I know the owner."

"Of course you do." Maple rolled her eyes.

Ford climbed down from the driver's seat and Lady Bird, who'd been nestled between them on the bench seat during the ride back to Bluebonnet from County General, bounded after him.

Maple paused, wondering how fast she could get to Austin if she went straight back to Percy's house to pack her things and summon another hired car. Why was this state so darn big?

Lady Bird gazed up at her with an expectant wag of her fluffy gold tail. Are you coming or what?

Maple's stomach growled, right on cue. There had to be other flights from Austin to New York today, right? They were both huge, metropolitan cities. Just because she'd missed the early morning flight didn't mean she was stuck here indefinitely. Surely, there was time for a tiny bite of pie.

She slid out of the passenger seat and headed toward the bakery, where Ford swung the door open like he owned the place. Lady Bird pranced straight inside while Maple lingered on the threshold.

She glanced at Ford as he held the door open for her. "Are dogs allowed in here?"

"What dog?" A woman with a high blond ponytail juggled pies in each hand and winked at them from behind the counter. "I don't see any dog, just my sweet nurse friend Lady Bird."

Lady Bird immediately got an extra spring in her step at the sound of her name. She trotted toward the counter, nose twitching in the general direction of the pies, which smelled like they'd just come straight from the oven.

"Hi, there. I'm Adaline." She slid the pies onto the counter and waved at Maple with an oven mitt decorated with the same whimsical cherry print as her ruffle-trimmed apron.

"I'm Maple."

"Maple is new in town," Ford said as he lowered himself onto one of the barstools at the counter. He gave the stool next to him a pat. "Come on, scaredy cat."

Adaline lifted an eyebrow.

"Maple is a tad shy," Ford said. "Right, Lady Bird?"

Maple really wished he'd stop staying that, although she supposed it was preferable to Ford broadcasting the fact that she'd told him she wasn't a people person. Did he have to say anything at all, though? Why did it feel like the entire town was populated by oversharers?

Lady Bird woofed her agreement before collapsing in a heap at Ford's feet. Great. Even the dog had an opinion about her social skills.

"Oh, wait." Adaline's eyes lit up. "You must be the peach pie from yesterday."

"That was me." Maple took the seat next to Ford. "It was delicious, by the way."

"So delicious that she insisted I bring her in for more." Ford pointed at one of the pies in front of Adaline. "Do I smell cherries?"

Adaline jammed her hands on her hips. "Ford Bishop, are you seriously waltzing in here less than an hour before we open, expecting to eat my inventory?"

"Yes." He nodded. "Yes, I am."

Maple glanced back and forth between them, wondering how they knew each other. The vibe between them was playful, but it didn't have a flirtatious edge.

Maple breathed a senseless sigh of relief. Lady Bird lifted her face from her paws and gave Maple a little head tilt, as if the dog could read her mind. Intuition was a valuable quality in a therapy dog, but in this case, it just seemed nosy.

And way off base. Maple didn't have a jealous bone in her body where Ford was concerned. In fact, a small-town baker was exactly the sort of person he should be with. Maple should be rooting for these two crazy kids.

Then why aren't you?

"Fine," Adaline said, relenting, then she reached for a silver cake server. "But only because Maple is new in town, like you said. She deserves a proper welcome."

"I'm not really, though—new in town, I mean." Maple protested as Adaline served up an enormous slice of cherry pie and slid the plate toward her. Her mouth was already watering. "I'm not staying in Bluebonnet. I'm leaving today, actually."

Probably, anyway. She still needed to get that figured out.

"Oh." Adaline shot Ford a loaded glance, which Maple had no idea how to interpret. "What did my brother do to scare you off so quickly?"

Maple's fork paused halfway to her mouth. "You two are brother and sister?"

That made sense. No wonder they seemed so comfortable around each other.

"We are." Adaline pulled a face, as if being related to Ford was something to be ashamed of.

Maple decided right there and then that she liked Adaline Bishop. She liked her a lot. Too bad she'd never see her again—or eat any more of her delicious baked goods—after today.

Maple swallowed a forkful of pie, and it suddenly felt like a rock in the pit of her stomach.

"I didn't do anything to scare her off. This big-city wariness you're observing is Maple's natural state. I've been nothing but welcoming." Ford cut his eyes toward her. When he looked at her like that—as if his dreamy blue eyes could see straight into her soul—she sometimes forgot how to breathe. It was beyond annoying.

Maple focused intently on the rich red cherries on her plate. "Except for the part where you tricked me into examining a fake dog. And then dragged me to the hospital in the middle of the night. And then lied about being a doctor."

A bark of laughter burst out of Adaline. "Oh, this is getting good. She's got your number, Ford."

"She also has quite a flair for exaggeration," Ford countered. "Where's my pie, by the way? You just gave her a supersized slice, and I'm still sitting here empty-handed."

"Hold your horses. I was just getting to know my new bestie." Adaline shot Maple a wink as she cut a significantly smaller piece of pie for her brother. "Too bad you're not staying, Maple. I have a feeling we'd be great friends."

"Yeah," Maple said quietly. "I think we would, too."

A heaviness came over Maple that she wanted to attribute to lack of sleep, but it felt more like regret. Aside from her study group in vet school, she didn't have many friends in New York.

"Are you sure you have to go so soon?" Adaline picked up a mixing bowl and began measuring cups of flour to dump into it.

"I actually just missed my flight. I need to try and get another one later this afternoon. Everything right now is a little—" she swallowed and didn't dare venture a glance in Ford's direction "—complicated."

Adaline nodded as if she understood, but a flicker of confusion passed through her gaze. How could she possibly understand when Maple still hadn't managed to get a handle on her current circumstances herself?

"I need—" she began, ready to rattle off a list of perfectly rational reasons why she needed to get back to Manhattan, starting with her highly coveted position at the veterinary cardiology practice. But before she could utter another syllable, her cell phone rang, piercing the awkward silence that had descended at the mention of Maple's missed flight.

She dug the phone out of her purse and nearly dropped it when she spied her mother's name flashing across the top of the display screen. Lady Bird let out a long, drawn-out sigh.

Maple's gaze darted toward the dog, but the golden's sweet, melting expression only sharpened the dull ache of regret into something much more painful. What was going to happen to Lady Bird once she was gone?

Maple gripped her phone tight. "I should probably take this."

Lady Bird was practically the mayor of this town. The dog would have no trouble whatsoever finding a good home. Maple wouldn't be surprised if there ended up being a contest of some sort. She just needed to keep her eye on the prize long enough to get out of here.

The front door had barely closed behind Maple when Adaline abandoned her baking to give Ford a sisterly third degree.

"What do you think you're doing?" she said, pointing a wooden spoon at him for added emphasis.

Ford should've known this was coming. But truly, his sister was barking up the wrong tree.

"I'm eating my pie." He aimed his fork over his plate for another bite.

"Nice try." She slid the plate away from him, and his fork stabbed nothing but air. "You know what I'm talking about. What's going on between you two?"

Adaline cast a purposeful glance over his shoulder toward the town square, where Maple was now pacing back and forth as she talked on the phone. Lady Bird scrambled to her feet, trotted toward the door and proceeded to stare out the window at Maple while emitting a mournful whine.

"Nothing whatsoever is going on. Like I said, I'm just here for the pie. I'm perfectly content to mind my own business." Ford waved his fork between his sister and Lady Bird. "Unlike you two."

"Oh, please. From what Maple said, it sounds like you've spent an awful lot of time together in the past twenty-four hours." Adaline pointed her wooden spoon at him again.

Ford just wanted his pie back. Was that really too much to ask?

"For the record, Maple hasn't even been here twenty-four hours yet." He snagged his plate back while Adaline processed what he'd just said. "And she's already got one foot out the door, so I repeat—nothing whatsoever is going on."

His sister eyed him with thinly veiled skepticism. "You bought her a pie yesterday, and from the looks of things, you just spent the night together."

Ford loved his sister. He really did. He loved Bluebonnet too, with all his heart and soul...despite the fact that the general population of his hometown—Adaline, included—had never believed in the concept of privacy. Every place on earth had its downside.

"We spent the night at County General. Working. I had patients to attend to, and Maple brought Lady Bird for a therapy-dog visit. That's all. I promised to bring her here in exchange for coming to the hospital in the middle of the night."

Adaline's expression turned serious. "Was this for the little boy who has leukemia?"

Ford's teeth ground together. He'd already told his sister too much about Oliver. He'd never disclosed the child's name, but even talking about one of his patients in vague terms went against his ethics as a physician.

The similarities between Oliver's case and his memories of Bobby were too much, though. Same diagnosis, same age, same sickening feeling in Ford's gut. Every time he ran Oliver's blood count or checked the results of his most recent bone-marrow aspiration, Ford was plunged straight back to that awful summer when Bobby stopped showing up at the baseball diamond and his parents couldn't look him in the eye when they tried to explain what was wrong. In a moment of weakness, he'd shared only the bare basics of Oliver's story with Adaline. She'd known Bobby, too, and she'd been there when Ford's safe little world had been rocked straight off its axis. Telling her had felt right at the time, and for a moment, a bit of the weight had lifted off Ford's shoulders. He'd been able to breathe again.

It had been a mistake. He knew that much now. Things had been easier when Ford could compartmentalize his feelings and pretend everything was fine. He couldn't do that anymore now that Adaline knew the truth. It seemed Ford's sister had as much interest in his favorite patient as she did his romantic pursuits, and Ford had zero desire to discuss either.

"You know I can't talk about that," he said.

She held up her hands. "I know, I know. I just hope he's doing okay. It's sweet that Maple came up there so late, whatever the reason. Staying all night is a pretty big deal. That's all I'm saying."

Ford shot her a sardonic look. "Is it really all you're saying?"

That would be a first.

Adaline crossed her arms and huffed. "Fine. You bought Maple an entire pie yesterday. That seems significant, wouldn't you agree?"

Granted, Ford wasn't generally in the business of feeding women baked goods. Until recently, apparently.

"The peach pie was Gram's doing, not mine. I was simply following orders." He gave his dessert an aggressive jab with this fork. Why did he feel the need to defend himself when he was telling the truth? Nothing had happened between him and Maple, and nothing ever would. Period. "I took Gram and Coco to the vet yesterday, and Maple works there. Or she did... Clearly, that's changed."

He was getting whiplash trying to keep up with Maple's plans. Not that where she lived or worked was any of his business. He just needed to know how to get ahold of Lady Bird, that's all.

Ford choked down the last bite of his pie and pushed away his plate. He'd lost his appetite all of a sudden.

Adaline took the plate and placed it in the sink behind the counter. Then she planted her hands on the smooth Formica and fixed her gaze with his, eyes wary. Obviously, she wasn't buying what he was selling. "Do I need to remind you what happened the last time you got involved with a woman who wasn't suited for small-town life?"

She absolutely did not. Ford couldn't have forgotten that particular disaster if he'd tried. And, oh, how he'd tried—many, many times. Certain heartbreaks had a way of burrowing deep, though.

"No need," Ford said.

"Are you sure? Because Maple seems really great. I was serious when I said I thought we'd be great friends. But she's obviously not cut out for Bluebonnet."

Ford knew better than to ask his sister to elaborate, because that would mean he was taking Adaline's warning seriously. Which he wasn't. He had no interest whatsoever in history repeating itself, and Maple had been trying to escape Bluebonnet since the moment they'd first met. How could he forget?

I'm from New York City. But I live here now...temporarily.

They'd practically been Maple's first words to him, and Ford had heard them loud and clear. It wasn't possible to place a bigger emphasis on temporarily.

"She'll be gone by tomorrow morning, and it can't come soon enough. You can stop worrying about me." Ford jerked his head toward Lady Bird, still pining at the door while she kept track of Maple's every move. Adaline's pristine, polished glass was rapidly becoming smudged with golden-retriever nose prints. "Lady Bird over there might be a different story."

"That dog loves everyone," Adaline said.

Ford shook his head. "This is different."

Adaline's forehead scrunched. "How can you tell?"

"I just can." Ford's heart went out to the poor dog.

He wondered if the golden could tell that Maple was related to Percy. A while back, he'd read an article in a medical journal that speculated dogs could identify blood relatives purely by smell. If that was the case, Maple was now the closest thing Lady Bird had to Percy, whom she'd adored with unfettered devotion.

"Mark my words. If you're worried about anyone, it should be Lady Bird," Ford said. For once, the dog didn't respond to the sound of her name. She kept her gaze trained out the window, laser-focused on Maple's every move.

"Are you sure you're not just projecting?" Adaline cleared her throat. "From where I'm standing, you and Lady Bird have matching puppy-dog expressions. That's all I'm saying."

"That's all you're saying? Again?" Ford arched an eyebrow. "Is that a promise this time?"

It was too early in the morning for a deep dive into his love life. Not that he had any love life to speak of, which was purely intentional.

"For now. As for the future, I make no guarantees." Adaline wadded up her dish towel and threw it at his face.

"Duly noted," Ford said dryly.

Ever the perfect therapy dog, Lady Bird abandoned her post to shuffle back to the counter and press the bulk of her warm form against Ford's leg. Then she rested her chin on his knee with an audible sigh, leaving Ford to wonder which one of them was supposed be on the receiving end of the comfort being offered.

Man, dog...or, quite possibly, both.