Chapter 21
Harper breathed in the sweet, tangy scent of the pine trees as she strolled with Owen along the trail bordering Flathead Lake. The crisp air was refreshing, a welcome respite from the heaviness that had settled around her heart since her granddad's stroke.
The serenity of the bay seeped into her bones. The rhythmic sound of their footsteps and the gentle lapping of the water provided a peaceful soundtrack to their walk.
Owen matched her pace with an easy stride. They'd thought about biking around the lake but, after two hours of study, Harper was desperate to do something that didn't involve sitting.
This was her time to recharge, to prepare for the emotional visit to the care facility in Polson.
Owen glanced at her, a soft smile on his face. "It's good to see you enjoying being outside. How are you holding up?"
Taking a deep breath, Harper considered his question. "I'm okay. These walks help. It's just..." Her voice trailed off as the reality of her granddad's unhappiness weighed on her.
Before Owen could say anything, the persistent buzz of her phone interrupted them. Harper's heart skipped a beat when she saw the New York area code. "I'd better get this," she told him. "It's from someone in New York." She pushed the green button and frowned. "Hello?"
"Harper, it's me, Ellie. How are you?"
"I'm doing okay," Harper told her friend. It wasn't like Ellie to call her at this time of the day. The last time they'd spoken, Ellie was doing afternoon shifts at Bellevue Hospital. "Has something happened?"
Ellie spoke quickly. "I know you said you don't want to come back to New York, but we desperately need you. The ICU is overwhelmed and we're short-staffed. Stephanie and Giovanna retired three weeks ago, and the recruitment agency can't find anyone to replace them. To make matters worse, Peggy's pregnant and will only be here for another month. Can you come? Even if it's only for a short time, it'd help."
The urgency in Ellie's voice sent a jolt through Harper. She stopped walking, feeling Owen's concerned gaze upon her. "It's a difficult time. My granddad's had another stroke, and I have a job I can't leave."
Ellie's sigh carried through the phone. "You're an incredible nurse. It would almost be like you never left. A woman from the recruitment agency said the hospital's paying relocation costs and subsidizing three months' rent just to find some staff."
Harper's gaze met Owen's. "I'm really sorry, Ellie, but I need to stay here for Granddad."
"I understand," Ellie told her. "But, if you change your mind, let me know. Everyone's working twelve-hour shifts, five days a week, just to keep the ICU open."
For anyone, that was a huge workload. But when patients depended on you to keep them alive, it was even worse. "That's terrible. How are you coping?"
"It isn't easy," Ellie told her. "I don't know how much longer I can do it, but there's no one else to help."
Harper heard a high-pitched beep in the background.
"I have to go," Ellie said. "I'll call you on the weekend. Take care."
After Harper put the phone away, a silence fell between her and Owen.
He reached out, taking her hand. "Is everything okay?"
Harper frowned. "They need more nurses at the hospital I worked at in New York City. It sounds as though it's almost as bad as it was during the pandemic."
Owen squeezed her hand.
"There's a part of me that feels like I should be there, helping," she told him. "But I can't go back. Granddad needs me, and I'm helping with the support group for caregivers, and doing the trauma course. I can't just leave it all behind."
"If it makes any difference," Owen said. "I'm glad you're staying."
She looked at his strong jaw, his eyes that were always full of warmth and kindness. "You're the other reason I don't want to leave. You've become a part of my life in a way I never expected. After everything that's happened, you're a reminder that good things can come out of hard times."
Owen pulled her close. "I care about you, too. Just remember that even though we're a small town, you're making a difference. You're making people's lives better."
Her eyes filled with unshed tears. Owen was right, but the staff in the Intensive Care Unit were special. What had happened during the pandemic had shaped their lives in ways she was only beginning to understand. Turning her back on them now, when they needed her the most, was one of the hardest things she'd had to do.
On Saturday night,Owen turned off the furnace, its warm hum giving way to a heavy silence that filled his studio. He pulled off his gloves and wiped his forehead, a day's worth of work leaving him with a satisfying kind of fatigue.
The studio still held the vibrancy of the day's visitors. The number of people who'd come to his first opening day surprised him. But his parents had expected a large crowd. They'd been impressed with all the advertising he'd organized. From the local school newsletter, to interviews on the radio station, and Facebook advertising—everyone in this part of Montana seemed to know about his studio.
The people visiting his website had tripled overnight and his email box was full of requests for more information. If this continued, he might have to ask his mom if she wanted a part-time job.
Lifting a tray of paperweights out of the storage area, he carefully carried them across to the specialty shelving Steve had made.
The bell above the door tinkled, announcing his friend's arrival. "I was just about to turn the sign to ‘Closed'," Owen told Steve with a smile. "I see you've brought your little buddy with you."
Rex stared up at him with his jet-black, button eyes.
Steve laughed. "As soon as I leave my house, Rex cries. Not that it's too much of a drama. Patrick's happy for me to take him to work. I just have to walk him a couple of times and keep him in a playpen for the rest of the day."
Owen knelt beside Rex and patted his fluffy fur. "You're one spoiled dog."
Steve grinned. "He deserves it. Last night, I had my best night's sleep ever. And it's all because of Rex."
Owen looked down at the pint-sized wonder dog. "What made the difference?"
Steve's smile disappeared. "Having him in the house with me. Even though he's little, it relaxes my brain and stops me from thinking about other things."
Owen knew how much those ‘other things' had affected Steve's life. "I'm glad it worked out."
"How did it go today?" Steve asked, with Rex now obediently sitting by his side, his little tail thumping against the wooden floor.
Owen glanced around the room. The shelves were less cluttered than they'd been that morning. "It was better than I expected," he admitted, allowing a small smile of pride to cross his face. "I sold quite a few of the pieces on display. Mom was great. She talked to everyone who came in and left me to show people how each piece is made."
Steve's eyebrows rose. "That's great. And Harper?"
"She helped in the studio before heading to Polson," Owen said, his smile fading. "The last few weeks have been tough on her."
"Yeah, I bet." Steve's gaze softened in sympathy. "How's Benjamin doing?"
Owen shook his head, his expression growing somber. "It's hard to say. Some days are better than others. It looks as though he'll be staying in the care facility for longer than they thought."
Steve looked down at Rex. The little dog had moved closer to Owen, somehow sensing the shift in the conversation. "How does that affect Harper? She came home to look after her granddad. But if he's living in Polson, there's no reason for her to stay. Except for you."
"I'm glad you added the last part in there," Owen muttered. "I've been thinking the same thing. She had a call from a friend who worked with her in New York City. They're short of staff and want to know if she'll go back."
Steve frowned. "What did she say?"
Owen picked up a small trash can and emptied it into a larger one. "She said she couldn't leave."
"I can sense a ‘but' coming in about now."
Owen wished what he was about to say could be different. "Harper went through a lot with the staff at the hospital. I'm not sure I'm enough of a reason for her to stay here."
Steve picked up a plain glass bottle. "It's not the staying part you should be worried about. It's whether she'll come back. I still haven't figured out why you made these. They aren't as decorative as your other things."
Owen walked across to the bottles. "Do you see the pile of handmade parchment beside them? People write special notes on the paper. I seal the bottle with a wooden cork and some wax, and they take them home. They're messages in a bottle, only you don't need to find them floating in the ocean."
Steve seemed impressed. "Can you only put the parchment inside, or can people add other things?"
"They can bring in other things, as long as I can fit them down the neck of the bottle." Owen watched Steve hold the bottle up to the light. "Do you want one?"
"Maybe someday," Steve said. "When Rex is more settled. At the moment, he's likely to knock it off a shelf. Are you still coming to tonight's PTSD support group meeting?"
"I wouldn't miss it." Owen had been looking forward to it all week. Even when he didn't share the ups and downs of his life, it was good listening to everyone else's challenges and triumphs. Being around a great bunch of people helped everyone's mental health, too. "Are you taking Rex?"
Steve picked up the little guy and held him close to his chest. "Not tonight. Allan Terry offered to doggy sit for me. I think he's trying to persuade Mabel they need a dog."
Owen laughed. "Rex is cute enough to persuade half the town they need a canine buddy. I'll just put the rest of the paperweights on display, and then I'm ready to leave."
While he was doing that, Steve took Rex outside to go for a walk.
With a heavy heart, Owen turned the last paperweight around so the cobalt blue streak was facing him. He hadn't exaggerated when he told Steve that Harper may not stay in Sapphire Bay.
She had a rewarding career and skills that were in short supply. With very little effort, she could get a job anywhere in the world. A job that would probably pay a lot more than anything she'd get in Sapphire Bay or the entire state of Montana.
If he had the opportunity that she did, he wasn't sure what he'd do, either.