Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“Me, too,” Lance agreed, his dark eyes somber.
The morning had been so busy May hadn’t really had time to think about it. Now the quiet pressed in, and she had to find her friend.
“Do you want me to go out to her place?” Lance asked.
Concern ticked through May. “She has to be okay,” she said, more to herself than to him. “I’m sure you’re right that she partied pretty hard last night. She was drinking margaritas.” Still, she dialed Ivy again and held the phone to her ear. It rang and then went to voicemail. Screw it. “Do you mind heading out there? It’s quiet here, and I could spare you for a while.”
“Sure,” Lance said easily. “If you want, I can pop by Hittie’s and get us some snacks on my way back. She’s got new muffins.”
“All right. Just put it on the clinic’s account. I’ll pay for it.”
He grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“I know,” she said, trying to keep the levity. “I’m going to check on Nate and Annie’s baby and then discharge them.”
“Oh yeah. Did they ever name her?” Lance loped toward the door. “Last I heard she didn’t have a name.”
“Yeah, they named her Elsa.”
“Elsa from Frozen? I guess we live in the area for it.” Lance rolled a mint around in his mouth. He paused in the doorway. “You want kids, Doc?”
May blinked. She was used to his subject changes, but that one caught her off guard. “Yeah. Someday. Don’t you?”
“I guess. Not right now.”
“You’re young and have tons of time,” she said. The hallway felt longer than usual as she stepped into it, her shoes whispering against the tile. She might as well walk with him to the door. “Have you settled on plans after you finish college?”
“That’s a few years away, probably. I’d like to go on tour with my band,” he said. “But my mom’s not really on board with that, considering I’m studying business. I may open my own here in town.”
May glanced at her phone again. Still nothing from Ivy. The silence felt louder now. “You could do both, couldn’t you?” Man, she was going to miss him.
He considered it. “Yeah. I guess.”
They reached the door and she opened it for him. “Drive carefully.”
“All right. I’ll call you as soon as I yank Ivy out of bed. I bet she’s just hungover.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it,” May said, unable to shake the unease creeping higher inside her. She waited until he drove away before heading toward the shared door with the hospital, anxious to see that cute baby again. She moved into the hospital and walked down a sparkling clean hallway, pausing near the hospital room door where Annie rested with her baby. A soft murmur drifted from inside. Life. Small and fragile and stubborn.
Hopefully Ivy was just really late getting to work. That had to be it.
Chapter Twenty-Five
On his second mug of coffee, Ace lifted the travel cup to his mouth as he climbed the stairs and pushed through the door into the sheriff’s building. The place always smelled faintly of dust, old paper, and whatever disinfectant they’d switched to last winter. Morning light slipped through the high front windows and stretched across the worn wood floor in pale stripes. His boots echoed as he crossed the entry.
Flossy looked up from behind the reception desk. Her long gray hair was twisted into an intricate bun that never moved, not even when she laughed. “Hey, Ace.”
“Hi, Flossy,” he said. “I’ll get on that firewood for you later today.”
“After bridge?” she asked, her eyes twinkling.
He glanced around. “Flossy. That’s a secret.”
She laughed, the sound bright against the quiet hum of the building. “Your brother ain’t here.”
“Where is he?”
Flossy sniffed. “He doesn’t report to me, Ace Osprey. Not nearly as much as he should anyway.” Her fingers shuffled papers into a neat stack, and the old wall clock ticked behind her in a comfortable rhythm. Ace shifted his weight. His body still felt loose and lax after an energetic night with May. He’d dropped her off at the clinic on the way over, watched her disappear through the glass doors with that steady walk she had. He hadn’t shaken the warmth of it yet.
“Hey, Ace.” Amos’s greeting drifted up through the floor vent near the front desk, warped and hollow like it was traveling through a tunnel.
“Hi, Amos,” Ace said, aiming toward the vent.
The middle-aged guy rarely left his apartment downstairs. Most days, he might as well have been part of the building’s wiring.
Ace took a drink before speaking again. “You got any more storms coming in?”
“Yep. Tracking one right now. Probably middle of the week.” Amos paused for a moment, no doubt checking his monitors. “So far it looks like it’ll be clear for Christian’s wedding.”
“That’s good to know,” Ace said.