Read Online Cross Country Christmas by Tiffany King - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tiffany King
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that lined the headboard. "We went to school together. It just so happens we ran into each other on our way home for the holidays. The funny thing is the trip has turned into something right out of the movies."
"That sounds like an interesting story."
"You could put it that way, but it's almost more appropriate to call it a disaster story," I admitted, launching into an explanation of everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. Maggie found the retelling of our adventure extremely humorous. We were both laughing when Grant returned with the doctor.
"Hello, young lady, I'm Doc Jones," the elderly gentleman said, holding out his hand. "I heard you hurt your ankle playing in the snow," he added, winking at me.
"That's one way to put it," I answered as Maggie giggled again. I grinned back, which turned into a laugh when Grant looked at both of us like we had sprouted an extra head. Doc Jones paid no attention as he moved to the foot of the bed where my sore ankle was propped up over a stack of pillows.
"The first thing I'm going to do is remove your boot, which will cause some discomfort," he said, tugging on my boot. Discomfort was a total understatement. I wanted to yell the whole dictionary of curse words, but I didn't want to shock everyone in the room. I leaned back against the pillows, panting as the doc examined my foot. I tried to appear tough for my audience, but all I really wanted to do was cry. My ankle, which had been merely throbbing, now felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it. Only when I heard Maggie clucking her tongue sympathetically did I raise my head off the pillows so I could peer at my right ankle. I studied it critically, not believing it was mine. It was easily twice its normal size, if not bigger. The most startling aspect was the color. The normal creamy tone of my skin was gone and replaced by an icky rainbow of blues, blacks and purples that all blended together into a bright swollen mess.
I sank back against the pillow again as Doc Jones continued to probe at the monstrosity that was now my ankle. I knew he was being gentle as he could, but it felt like he was running it through a meat grinder. I turned my head from the others as a tear crept out of the corner of my eye. I wanted to tell him he was examining a swollen ankle, not working in a pottery class.
"Well, I'm ninety-nine percent sure it's just a really bad sprain, but I'm going to wrap it good until we can get X-rays done to make sure. The closest hospital is twenty miles away, but we should wait until the storm has passed," he said, pulling a bandage from his bag. By the time he was done, a thin layer of sweat had beaded up on my forehead, but the pain was at least bearable now that the ankle was wrapped.
Finally, when my foot was propped up again, I looked over at Grant, who had remained stoically silent during the examination.
"Maggie, dear, will you get Jamie something to drink for her pain pills?" Doc Jones asked, pulling out a sample pack of pills. "These will help with the pain and might make you a little loopy, so no alcohol," he said, looking pointedly at the champagne.
"Can't I just take ibuprofen?" I asked, not liking the idea of taking pain pills with Grant around. Especially if they were supposed to make me loopy.
"Ibuprofen should work tomorrow, but for tonight you're going to want to take these," he said, popping two of the pills out of the pack.
Maggie handed me the glass of ice water she had poured from the ceramic pitcher on the highboy dresser. She winked at me as Doc handed over the pills. She knew why I didn't want to take them.
I stuck my tongue out at her before dropping the pills into my mouth. She laughed as she headed for the door. "I better go check on supper. Are you up to joining us in the dining room, or would you like me to bring a tray up?" she asked me.
"I'd like to join you if that's okay," I said, looking at the doctor questioningly.
"As long as you keep your foot
"That sounds like an interesting story."
"You could put it that way, but it's almost more appropriate to call it a disaster story," I admitted, launching into an explanation of everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. Maggie found the retelling of our adventure extremely humorous. We were both laughing when Grant returned with the doctor.
"Hello, young lady, I'm Doc Jones," the elderly gentleman said, holding out his hand. "I heard you hurt your ankle playing in the snow," he added, winking at me.
"That's one way to put it," I answered as Maggie giggled again. I grinned back, which turned into a laugh when Grant looked at both of us like we had sprouted an extra head. Doc Jones paid no attention as he moved to the foot of the bed where my sore ankle was propped up over a stack of pillows.
"The first thing I'm going to do is remove your boot, which will cause some discomfort," he said, tugging on my boot. Discomfort was a total understatement. I wanted to yell the whole dictionary of curse words, but I didn't want to shock everyone in the room. I leaned back against the pillows, panting as the doc examined my foot. I tried to appear tough for my audience, but all I really wanted to do was cry. My ankle, which had been merely throbbing, now felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it. Only when I heard Maggie clucking her tongue sympathetically did I raise my head off the pillows so I could peer at my right ankle. I studied it critically, not believing it was mine. It was easily twice its normal size, if not bigger. The most startling aspect was the color. The normal creamy tone of my skin was gone and replaced by an icky rainbow of blues, blacks and purples that all blended together into a bright swollen mess.
I sank back against the pillow again as Doc Jones continued to probe at the monstrosity that was now my ankle. I knew he was being gentle as he could, but it felt like he was running it through a meat grinder. I turned my head from the others as a tear crept out of the corner of my eye. I wanted to tell him he was examining a swollen ankle, not working in a pottery class.
"Well, I'm ninety-nine percent sure it's just a really bad sprain, but I'm going to wrap it good until we can get X-rays done to make sure. The closest hospital is twenty miles away, but we should wait until the storm has passed," he said, pulling a bandage from his bag. By the time he was done, a thin layer of sweat had beaded up on my forehead, but the pain was at least bearable now that the ankle was wrapped.
Finally, when my foot was propped up again, I looked over at Grant, who had remained stoically silent during the examination.
"Maggie, dear, will you get Jamie something to drink for her pain pills?" Doc Jones asked, pulling out a sample pack of pills. "These will help with the pain and might make you a little loopy, so no alcohol," he said, looking pointedly at the champagne.
"Can't I just take ibuprofen?" I asked, not liking the idea of taking pain pills with Grant around. Especially if they were supposed to make me loopy.
"Ibuprofen should work tomorrow, but for tonight you're going to want to take these," he said, popping two of the pills out of the pack.
Maggie handed me the glass of ice water she had poured from the ceramic pitcher on the highboy dresser. She winked at me as Doc handed over the pills. She knew why I didn't want to take them.
I stuck my tongue out at her before dropping the pills into my mouth. She laughed as she headed for the door. "I better go check on supper. Are you up to joining us in the dining room, or would you like me to bring a tray up?" she asked me.
"I'd like to join you if that's okay," I said, looking at the doctor questioningly.
"As long as you keep your foot
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