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“Move your car,” he says.
“What?”
“Kindly. Move. Your. Car,” he repeats slowly, as if speaking to a child.
I growl at him and his eyes widen like he’s just daring me to argue.
“Don’t we need to—” I start, but he just points at my vehicle.
I grit my teeth, turn around, and get in, carefully backing up before parking a few spaces down from him. When I turn the engine off, I fan my face and take a few deep breaths before getting back out. I’m not going to let this arrogant jerk ruin the little bit of Zen I had going on.
I grab my wallet and step out, and when I turn to walk in his direction, I keep turning because not only is his car no longer where it was—it’s not even in the parking lot.
Unbelievable.
I’m in such shock and more than a little wilted from that encounter that I almost forget to go inside the store and grab the medicine, but I do and head back to the house, driving more carefully this time, sunglasses tucked away safely in my purse.
I’m still fuming as I lie next to Dakota, listening to her stuffy nose as she sleeps. I wanted to do right by that guy and get his car fixed, but the last thing I need is for my insurance to go up.
So, I’ll take it as a gift that I’m off the hook. It’s a relief that I won’t have to deal with him again. It’s just a shame that those exceptionally good looks are wasted on such a jerk.
CHAPTERTWO
EYES WIDE OPEN
WYATT
“Hey, Dr. Wyatt, how are you today?” Linda asks as I’m passing the nurses’ station.
I give her a pained smile. “Okay. How about you? I was hoping you took the day off.”
“I can’t stop thinking about that little boy,” she says. “I’m just coming on now—Amelia needed me to cover her shift.”
Linda was with me yesterday when we lost a patient.
A six-year-old boy from Ohio was on a road trip with his family. He fell from seven or eight feet and hit his head on a rock. By the time we were rolling him into the ER, we were losing him, but we kept working on him for almost another half hour. Telling his family that he didn’t make it was the saddest thing I’ve ever done and I’ve had some hard days since becoming a doctor at Pine Community Hospital.
“Neither one of us should be here today,” Linda says.
I nod. “You’re right about that. But it’s what we do. Yesterday was one of the worst days I’ve had here,” I admit. “And then when I left, I got rear-ended…decided I should get home before anything else went wrong.”
“No way,” she says, her eyes full of concern. “Ugh, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I wave her off.
“Is your car okay? Do you need me to have Bill look at it?”
“It’s not great. Yeah, I think I’ll definitely need Bill to take a look if he can fit me in.” I start walking toward the room of my next patient, calling back to Linda. “Tourist girl wasn’t paying attention. Dented the rear and left a long scratch. Whole thing was stupid.”
She sighs and shakes her head and I lift my shoulder likewhat can you do?
I pause outside the cracked door and quickly take a look at the chart. Four-year-old little girl with an ongoing fever and congestion. Negative strep and flu tests as of a couple days ago. I try to shake my mood and smile before I knock on the door, walking in with a cheerful, “Hello, I’m Dr. Wyatt Landmark, you can call me Dr. Wyatt—”
I quickly close my gaping mouth, looking from the little girl in the room to the angry face of the woman who hit my car last night.
Tourist girl in the flesh.
I was right that she’s not from around here. I know everyone in Landmark and a lot of the recurring tourists that come to our small ski town, and I would’ve remembered seeing this woman.
