Chapter 11

11

JONAH

I wake up feeling completely content.

Having Brooke in my world gives everything more purpose. Making coffee, fixing breakfast, loading the dishwasher. Every mundane daily task isn't simply the routine of my life anymore. It's a way of making everything perfect for her. Making her comfortable. Making sure she has everything she needs.

As I steadfastly refuse her help tidying the kitchen after a long chatty breakfast, I can see in her eyes that she's tired of being babied. Which means she'll definitely be annoyed if I leave her here at the house and send anyone to check on her again.

"Would you like to come with me to the clinic again this morning?" I ask. "I was thinking of making sandwiches and bringing them there for lunch."

"I thought you only ran the clinic in the afternoons?"

"Usually, yes. But it's the first Thursday of the month. Mrs. Jackson likes to bring her mother in at eleven-thirty so they can have their fancy lunch in town afterward." I flash Brooke a wink. "Ever since her mother hit ninety-three, Mrs. J's become a little paranoid. She likes to bring her in often, just in case."

Brooke grabs my hand, giving it a squeeze. "That's so sweet of you to give her a special monthly mini check-up."

I shrug. "It keeps them from driving all the way to West Stoneburg and pestering the doctors there for a ton of unnecessary tests. They know that I'll keep them updated if there's anything that requires attention."

Brooke laughs. "Let me guess, the ladies bring you home-made cookies every time, don't they?"

"No." I stand up to put on another pot of coffee, then glance back over my shoulder, grinning. "Sometimes it's biscuits. Scones. If it's the right time of year, raspberry tarts."

She laughs, then glances out the window longingly. "You know, it's a beautiful day for sketching. Soft light, just warm enough for a leisurely stroll…"

"I should be done by two or three today. We could drive down to Maple Trail and go for a bit of a walk. Or drive up to one of the lookouts."

"Or…" Her fingers trace circles on the wooden table. "I could take my car and follow you to the clinic. I could meet your special lady friends"…she raises an eyebrow and giggles…"and we could have our sandwiches. Then I could go for a short drive and do some sketching until two thirtyish and meet you back at the clinic?"

Every fiber of my being screams No . I want her with me. Or I want to know exactly where she is. There are some dangerous areas up here on the mountain, and Brooke isn't from here. My head begins to spin with all the ways someone who doesn't know their way around the area could get hurt.

But there's no way I can tell her that. She looks so hopeful. If I begin deciding what she can and cannot do, that's not cool. I'm caught between the pull of needing her to be perfectly safe, and making sure I don't smother her.

"My beautiful artist needs some fresh air?" I force a smile. "Okay, no problem. When we're having lunch, I can go through a map with you and help you find anything specific you're looking for. Sounds good?"

It feels like I've said the right thing, and her warm smile floods me with relief.

"Sounds great. Now, do you normally wear a tuxedo for your visit with these important ladies, or…" I reach out to tweak her nose, sending us both into fits of laughter.

Brooke is already the most important lady in my life. Mrs. Jackson and her mother never stood a chance.