“Come in,” she said around the bobby pin. He remembered Steph holding them in her mouth like that when she’d get ready for dances.
“I’m not too early, am I?”
She shook her head, walking away from him. He closed the door behind him.
“No.” She padded back to the bathroom and leaned at the mirror. She took the bobby pin out of her mouth and jammed it in her hair. “I totally slept in. I’m so sorry.”
He laughed. “You slept in? It’s a school day.”
“Oh, don’t you do that. Don’t you dangle a hooky day in front of a teacher and then get upset when her body senses freedom.”
He chuckled. “You hit snooze, huh?”
“I hit off. I didn’t mean to.”
“Don’t worry about it. We have time.”
“I just need to slip on my shoes,” she said around her toothbrush. “This is okay, right?” She turned in a half circle, showing him what she was wearing—tight, dark jeans and a fitted flannel that accentuated her figure.
He had a hard time keeping his eyes from roaming. “I have those exact socks.”
She glanced at her pink fuzzy socks, rolled her eyes, and finished with her toothbrush before disappearing into her bedroom.
He raised his voice. “My dad keeps throwing out the idea that you need to see Leavenworth and all the Christmas stuff going on. You know, lights, Santa, Christmas trees. A million people. You should have seen his face when I told him Gainer had beaten him to the punch.”
She came out of her room. “You did not. Mark.”
He nodded. “Broke his heart. I think he has a thing for you.”
She shook her head, walking toward him. “You’re so mean.” She pulled her coat and a scarf out of the closet.
“He gives more than he gets.” He lifted the side of her coat she was struggling with, and she slid her arm inside. “He cheered up when I told him you were coming for Thanksgiving.”
“Thanks,” she said. “I’m glad.”
He watched her hands come together, fidgeting nervously. He reached out and held both her hands in his one, and she stilled. He quickly let go. “I told him what I have planned for today was better than Leavenworth.”
Her brow rose. “Oh?”
He nodded. “But it’s not very glamorous.”
“A girl can only handle so much glamour in one week.”
“Exactly. But . . . do you have a problem with blood?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Blood?”
“Do you trust me?”
She wrapped her scarf around her neck a couple times. “You’re not a vampire, are you?”
He smirked. “I don’t think so.”
She studied him. “I’m fine with blood. But I have no idea what you’re up to.”
“Trust me.”
“What are we doing here?” Riley asked as they pulled up to a tan building.
“I told you. They called, and I thought I could use your help.” He parked and turned to face her.
She knew he did that to give her more of his left side. Or less of his right. “I don’t have any experience with this.”
He looked out the window at the surrounding rural scenery, then smiled at her. “Won’t matter.”
They’d left the hills of Miracle Creek and, in a few miles, reached Wenatchee’s lower orchards and farmland. The parking lot was mostly empty, and at ten in the morning, the town was quiet. She read the sign on the building.
West Wenatchee Dialysis Center.
“All right,” she said. “But why are you here? I’m guessing you’ve been here before, and yet you obviously don’t need dialysis.”
He frowned. “Are you a doctor?”
She faltered. “Oh—”
“I don’t need dialysis, Riley.”
She thwapped his right arm.
He immediately grabbed the place she’d hit him and grimaced, sucking in air through his teeth.
Her eyes flew wide. “Oh no! I’m so sorry—” She leaned toward him, gripping his hand, patting his shoulder, unsure of what to do and feeling horrid. “I’m so sorry, Mark. What can I do?”
“Riley.”
She paused and met his gaze, inches from his face.
“I was joking.”
She pulled back and thwapped him harder.
He laughed deeply, and she fought the blush she knew was coming.
She lifted her finger. “That. Was. Not. Cool.”
He covered his mouth, still shaking with laughter. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t look sorry.”
He relaxed against his window and reached up, touching her very warm cheek. “It wasn’t nice. I am sorry.” He put his hand over his heart. “You really care.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Dummy. How am I supposed to know what hurts?”
“That’s a good question.” He studied her for a few moments and grew serious. “My therapist suggested this,” he said, motioning to the clinic. “He set up the times and everything to start. At first, we thought maybe I should volunteer at a burn center, but the closest one is in Tacoma, and at the time, I wasn’t sure I could handle it. He came up with this instead. The center was desperate for volunteers, and they’re just down the road. So here I am.”
“And you brought me because—?”
“Because of what I said before. Sometimes to heal, you have to help somebody else.”
“But what will I be doing?”
“Just come in with me. Carmen’s waiting for us.”
“Who’s Carmen?”
“A friend,” he said. “Her husband travels for work, so she needs someone to help her off the machine and give her a ride home. You’ll like her, I promise.” He nodded at the front doors. “Ready?”
“Ready,” she said, though she wasn’t sure that was true. She hoped she didn’t mess anything up.
They entered the building and put on disposable gowns and gloves at a dressing station. She followed Mark to a long front desk where a woman in scrubs looked up from a computer screen.
“Hey, Mark.”
“Hi, Sheila. I brought a friend today. This is Riley.”
Sheila smiled at both of them. “Great. Sign in, both of you.” She pushed a clipboard toward them. “Carmen’s waiting for you on number ten.”
“Of course she is.”
“Her lucky number,” Sheila said with a wink at Riley, and went back to work.
Mark signed in, then passed the clipboard to Riley. After adding her name and
