Chapter 2 - The Date She Never Told Him
For several seconds no one moved.
The old clock above Margaret's pantry ticked loudly enough to become part of the conversation.
Evelyn stared at Paige.
Paige stared back.
Richard Harrison suddenly seemed fascinated by the potatoes on his plate.
Margaret's expression hardened.
Outside, Jacob remained near the porch railing.
He had been talking to Margaret's feed supplier.
Now he was completely still.
Evelyn set the coffee pot down.
"You remembered correctly."
Paige lifted her brows.
"Then you're going back."
It was not a question.
Evelyn hated that certainty more than she expected.
"I haven't decided."
Paige looked genuinely confused.
"You haven't decided whether you're returning to your career?"
"I said what I said."
"You spent years becoming a doctor."
"And I stopped being one the moment I crossed the county line?"
"That's not what I mean."
"It sounds remarkably close."
Margaret intervened.
"Paige, perhaps Evelyn doesn't need an audience while deciding what to do with her life."
Paige glanced toward the window.
"Apparently she already has one."
Evelyn followed her gaze.
Jacob was gone.
Something inside her dropped.
She pushed back from the table.
"Excuse me."
Outside, the yard was empty except for two chickens scratching near the pump.
Evelyn walked toward the stable.
Jacob was tightening a saddle strap.
"Jacob."
He did not look up.
"Need something?"
The formality frightened her.
"Did you hear?"
"Enough."
"I was going to tell you."
"When?"
"I don't know."
He nodded once.
"Then I guess that was the problem."
Evelyn crossed her arms against the cold.
"I never promised I was staying."
"No."
His answer came immediately.
"You didn't."
The fairness of it made her feel worse.
"Then why are you angry?"
Jacob finally looked at her.
"I didn't say I was angry."
"You don't have to."
He gave a tired half-smile.
"You always diagnose people without asking?"
"Only when the symptoms are obvious."
That almost reached him.
Almost.
Then his face became serious again.
"I asked how long you were staying."
"I know."
"You said there was time."
"There was."
"For what?"
Evelyn opened her mouth.
Nothing came.
Jacob nodded slowly.
"That's what I thought."
He turned back to the saddle.
She stepped closer.
"I didn't know what I wanted."
"That's fair."
"I still don't."
"Also fair."
"Would you stop agreeing with me like I'm a patient you're trying not to upset?"
That made him look at her.
"What do you want me to say, Evelyn?"
She had no answer.
Jacob exhaled.
"I like having you here."
Her throat tightened.
"I like seeing you in the kitchen before sunrise, pretending you aren't tired. I like that Frank suddenly invents injuries every time he thinks you're working too hard. I like that children aren't afraid of coming to Red Willow anymore because they think the doctor might give them apple candy afterward."
"I do not give them apple candy."
"Margaret does."
"Then that's misleading advertising."
He almost smiled.
Then the sadness returned.
"I like you here enough that I should've known better than to start imagining you might stay."
Evelyn felt the words more deeply than any declaration could have reached.
"Jacob—"
"I'm not asking you to."
"I know."
"I wouldn't."
"I know."
"Because if you stay because of me and hate it next year, we'll both pay for that choice."
The wind moved dust across the yard.
Evelyn had never been with a man who did not try to influence a decision in his own favor.
Thomas had been charming when he wanted something.
Persuasive.
Good at making compromise sound like love when the compromise always seemed to move in his direction.
Jacob was offering her the opposite.
Freedom.
And somehow that freedom hurt.
He lifted the saddle.
"I've got work."
Evelyn stepped aside.
He passed her.
For the first time since she arrived at Red Willow, his silence no longer felt comforting.
It felt like distance.
Paige and Richard stayed through Sunday.
That evening, after Richard and Margaret went to check a leaking pipe in the washhouse, Paige joined Evelyn on the porch.
"You think I embarrassed you."
"You did."
"I wasn't trying to."
"You announced my private deadline in front of a room full of people."
"I thought they knew."
Evelyn turned toward her.
"Who?"
Paige hesitated.
"Jacob."
"Why?"
"Because of the way he looked at you."
Evelyn stared toward the pasture.
Paige wrapped her coat tighter.
"I know you think I disapprove."
"You called this place an escape."
"It is an escape."
"Maybe I needed one."
"Of course you did."
Paige's voice softened unexpectedly.
"But eventually an escape becomes a life or it becomes a delay."
Evelyn looked at her.
Paige had always been blunt.
Sometimes cruelly so.
This time, however, there was concern beneath the words.
"Thomas asked about you."
Evelyn's face went cold.
"I don't care."
"He knows you came here."
"Then I care even less."
"He says he made the biggest mistake of his life."
"Paige."
"I'm not suggesting you forgive him."
"Good."
"I'm saying Casper hasn't disappeared because you did."
Evelyn stood.
"I didn't disappear."
"No."
Paige looked toward the house.
"But you left before anyone could see whether you were all right."
Evelyn remained quiet.
Paige rose too.
"You don't owe Casper a return."
Then she glanced toward the stable.
"But don't make Red Willow prove it's better just because Casper hurt you."
That night Evelyn lay awake.
Paige's words angered her because some part of them was true.
Was she choosing Red Willow?
Or merely refusing to choose Casper?
There was a difference.
The following week brought no easy answers.
Jacob remained polite.
Helpful.
Distant.
He called her Evelyn but no longer found reasons to linger.
When a neighbor came for help, he set water outside and returned to work.
When Evelyn rode out to check Ruth Bellamy, another ranch hand accompanied her.
Margaret noticed everything and commented on nothing.
Then a man named Calvin Mercer arrived at Red Willow holding his side.
Calvin was forty-three, stubborn, and known for refusing help until circumstances became dramatic enough to embarrass him.
He had been thrown against a fence post while handling cattle.
Evelyn examined him.
His pain was worsening.
His abdomen was rigid enough to concern her.
"You need to go to the hospital."
Calvin shook his head.
"It's fifty miles."
"Then we'll spend fifty miles listening to you complain."
"I'm fine."
"No, you're not."
Jacob had entered quietly.
Evelyn looked at him.
"We need the truck."
Jacob did not hesitate.
"Five minutes."
Calvin muttered something profane.
Evelyn pointed at him.
"Save your breath."
They drove to Worland with Evelyn in the back beside Calvin.
The roads were rough.
Every bump made him groan.
Jacob drove faster than Evelyn would have thought safe and slower than panic would have demanded.
Exactly the balance she needed.
At the hospital, Calvin was found to have injuries serious enough to require immediate treatment.
When the physician on duty told Evelyn she had been right to send him, relief moved through her so strongly her legs weakened.
Outside, Jacob leaned against the truck.
"You all right?"
"I'm not the patient."
"That wasn't my question."
She looked at him.
"I was scared."
"I know."
"I thought maybe I was overreacting."
"You didn't."
"I could have been wrong."
Jacob shrugged.
"Being worried and being wrong aren't the same thing."
She laughed softly.
"You always have an answer?"
"Usually after everyone else stops talking."
For the first time since Paige's visit, the old ease returned.
On the drive home, Jacob finally said, "You miss it?"
"Casper?"
"The hospital."
Evelyn watched fields slide past the window.
"Sometimes."
"The work?"
"Yes."
"The place?"
She thought carefully.
"No."
Jacob nodded.
That distinction stayed with her.
Two days later a letter arrived from Dr. Bennett.
Evelyn recognized his handwriting immediately.
Margaret found her reading it by the kitchen window.
"Bad news?"
"I don't know."
The hospital wanted her back.
Not merely because her leave was ending.
A physician had resigned unexpectedly.
Dr. Bennett was offering Evelyn a permanent supervisory role in the emergency department.
Better salary.
More authority.
Regular responsibility for training younger doctors.
The kind of position she once imagined might take another five years to earn.
Margaret read the letter after Evelyn handed it to her.
"This is important."
"I know."
"You worked hard for this."
"I know."
"Then why do you look like someone just sentenced you?"
Evelyn folded the letter.
"Because six months ago, I would have said yes before finishing the first paragraph."
"And now?"
"I don't know what I want."
Margaret returned the letter.
"Then perhaps you finally have the right problem."
Evelyn frowned.
Margaret smiled.
"For years you knew exactly what came next because you planned everything. Medical school. Residency. Hospital. Thomas. Marriage."
"I don't see why uncertainty is an improvement."
"Because maybe for the first time, you're choosing instead of following the next square on a calendar."
That afternoon Evelyn walked toward the west pasture.
Jacob was repairing a gate.
She handed him the hospital letter.
He read it carefully.
His face revealed nothing.
"That's good."
"Is it?"
"You tell me."
"I asked you."
"And I'm not making the decision for you."
Evelyn snatched the letter back.
"You're infuriating."
"So I've heard."
"I thought you might at least have an opinion."
Jacob rested both hands on the fence.
"All right."
She waited.
"You'd be good at it."
The answer hurt.
He continued.
"You'd save people. Teach younger doctors. Make more money than you'll ever make out here. Probably have a warm office."
"I don't want a warm office."
"Everyone wants a warm office in January."
"Jacob."
He looked at her steadily.
"What do you want me to say?"
"Something true."
His jaw tightened.
"Fine."
He stepped closer.
"The truth is I don't want you to leave."
Evelyn's breath caught.
"But I don't want you to stay because I said that."
"Why does everything have to be so difficult with you?"
"Because easy promises caused both of us enough trouble."
The words stopped her.
Jacob looked away.
"If you choose Casper, I'll understand."
"Will you?"
"No."
That answer was so unexpected Evelyn nearly smiled.
"I'll hate it."
He met her eyes again.
"But I'll understand."
Before she could answer, a truck horn sounded from the ranch yard.
Frank came running.
"Doctor!"
Evelyn's body reacted immediately.
"What happened?"
"Mrs. Palmer."
The Palmers lived six miles east.
"She's pregnant. Baby's not supposed to come for another month, but her husband says something's wrong."
Evelyn felt the blood drain from her face.
She was an emergency physician.
She had delivered babies during residency.
That did not make her an obstetrician.
"Did they call the hospital?"
"Telephone line's down at their place."
Jacob had already reached for his jacket.
"We'll get them."
The sky had darkened.
A bank of heavy clouds was moving over the hills.
Margaret stepped onto the porch.
"Storm's coming."
Jacob looked toward Evelyn.
For one second the hospital letter in her hand represented every safe option available to her.
A staffed emergency department.
Specialists.
Equipment.
Predictability.
Then Frank said, "Doctor?"
Evelyn shoved the letter into her coat pocket.
"Get my bag."
Rain began before they reached the truck.
By the time Jacob turned onto the road toward the Palmer place, lightning was moving across the mountains.
The first drops became a hard sheet against the windshield.
Evelyn gripped the dashboard as the tires slipped in mud.
"Can we get through?"
Jacob leaned forward.
"If Cottonwood Creek hasn't risen."
"And if it has?"
He looked at her.
"Then we're going to have a different night than we planned."
Twenty minutes later they reached the low crossing.
Jacob stopped the truck.
The headlights illuminated brown water already moving across the road.
Evelyn stared at it.
"That's Cottonwood Creek?"
"Usually."
"What's it now?"
May you like
Jacob opened his door.
"A problem."
