Read Online The Doctor's Devotion (Love Inspired) by Cheryl Wyatt - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cheryl Wyatt
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him that way while she was here. But old habits die hard. He needed to dial it down this summer—for Lauren’s sake. Lem had an affinity for bringing people together and pulling fringe dwellers into the fold.
“At least let us help you cook.” Mitch bent to haul out the heavy-duty saucepan, but Lauren lifted a lighter one instead.
“He uses that one for spaghetti,” Mitch explained before thinking. The fallen look to her face hit him hard.
He hadn’t meant to tout how much more familiar he was than her with Lem’s current domestic dealings.
Head dipping in a dispirited manner, she pushed the pan back into the cabinet and raked silky hair behind her ear.
Mitch drew close. “Hey, sorry. I—”
Her upshot palm abolished his apology.
At first he thought she was too mad to listen or speak. Yet the gloss surfacing in her eyes and rapid blinks hinted of hurt and unspeakable pain. His heart dropped through the floor, squeezed with concern then swelled with empathy and compassion.
Amid the rush of emotion, he almost reached for her. No telling what stopped him.
She schooled her features as Lem clomped back in with a sack of potatoes. Mitch rushed to take them, which earned a dirty look from Lem, who muttered something about being capable of carrying taters. Lem’s protests elicited a fragile smile from Lauren.
His guilt eased, yet his concern for her deepened. Maybe he needed to be more sensitive?
Likewise, in time perhaps she’d be less sensitive.
Something more than simple jealousy had fueled it. He was determined to find out what.
Moonlight slivers shone when Lem held back the curtain. “Since it’s dark, I suggest we wait until tomorrow to mess with cantankerous Bess.”
Mitch helped carry serving dishes to the table. “Remember Brock, one of the Refuge PJs?”
Lem nodded. “The brawny, strapping, amber-haired one?”
“Yeah. He’s coming over here tomorrow to help me out with some projects on that to-do list.”
“That’s right nice of him. I’ll have some lunch in the fridge for you, how’s that?”
Mitch smiled. “Brock loves hard work almost as much as he loves food. So that’ll suit him just fine. He mentioned chili.”
“I’ll thaw a big batch then. Lauren and I have a special day planned tomorrow. Don’t we, carrottop?”
She looked nervous, like Grandpa might bring Mitch into it. “Yes. I’m looking forward to it.”
“I’m looking forward to getting some stuff done here,” he said to alleviate her fear that he’d try to intrude on their day. Little did she know he was working on a project for her benefit. Not just for Lem, but Mitch found himself looking forward to seeing the joy on Lauren’s face when Bess fired up.
Bess the tractor had refused to run for years. Four and a half, to be exact. Lem said Lauren loved to tinker around on her.
He’d had no reason to run Bess since Lauren moved away because he had other tractors that were more dependable and less sentimental.
Bess pretty much ran on her own terms, kind of like Lauren. He knew because Lem had confided generously.
Maybe that accounted for why the bond he felt with Lauren seemed stronger than the norm for two people who’d recently met. Lem had been telling them stories of one another for years now.
Mitch would be better off to leave the bond alone. Feeding the romance brewing between them would be foolish on several fronts. Among his old heartache and new work responsibilities that gave him pause, Lauren lived too far away for going further to feel safe.
Chapter Seven
L auren couldn’t remember looking more forward to a day. “Turkey and Cheddar Jack’s my favorite.” She tucked the sandwiches she’d made into a picnic basket on Grandpa’s table.
“Mine, too. Except I prefer provolone.” Grandpa set a thermos of coffee near their cooler basket.
“Since when? You’re the one who got me hooked me on Cheddar Jack.”
“Since Mitch turned me on to provolone.”
Familiar slices of jealousy
“At least let us help you cook.” Mitch bent to haul out the heavy-duty saucepan, but Lauren lifted a lighter one instead.
“He uses that one for spaghetti,” Mitch explained before thinking. The fallen look to her face hit him hard.
He hadn’t meant to tout how much more familiar he was than her with Lem’s current domestic dealings.
Head dipping in a dispirited manner, she pushed the pan back into the cabinet and raked silky hair behind her ear.
Mitch drew close. “Hey, sorry. I—”
Her upshot palm abolished his apology.
At first he thought she was too mad to listen or speak. Yet the gloss surfacing in her eyes and rapid blinks hinted of hurt and unspeakable pain. His heart dropped through the floor, squeezed with concern then swelled with empathy and compassion.
Amid the rush of emotion, he almost reached for her. No telling what stopped him.
She schooled her features as Lem clomped back in with a sack of potatoes. Mitch rushed to take them, which earned a dirty look from Lem, who muttered something about being capable of carrying taters. Lem’s protests elicited a fragile smile from Lauren.
His guilt eased, yet his concern for her deepened. Maybe he needed to be more sensitive?
Likewise, in time perhaps she’d be less sensitive.
Something more than simple jealousy had fueled it. He was determined to find out what.
Moonlight slivers shone when Lem held back the curtain. “Since it’s dark, I suggest we wait until tomorrow to mess with cantankerous Bess.”
Mitch helped carry serving dishes to the table. “Remember Brock, one of the Refuge PJs?”
Lem nodded. “The brawny, strapping, amber-haired one?”
“Yeah. He’s coming over here tomorrow to help me out with some projects on that to-do list.”
“That’s right nice of him. I’ll have some lunch in the fridge for you, how’s that?”
Mitch smiled. “Brock loves hard work almost as much as he loves food. So that’ll suit him just fine. He mentioned chili.”
“I’ll thaw a big batch then. Lauren and I have a special day planned tomorrow. Don’t we, carrottop?”
She looked nervous, like Grandpa might bring Mitch into it. “Yes. I’m looking forward to it.”
“I’m looking forward to getting some stuff done here,” he said to alleviate her fear that he’d try to intrude on their day. Little did she know he was working on a project for her benefit. Not just for Lem, but Mitch found himself looking forward to seeing the joy on Lauren’s face when Bess fired up.
Bess the tractor had refused to run for years. Four and a half, to be exact. Lem said Lauren loved to tinker around on her.
He’d had no reason to run Bess since Lauren moved away because he had other tractors that were more dependable and less sentimental.
Bess pretty much ran on her own terms, kind of like Lauren. He knew because Lem had confided generously.
Maybe that accounted for why the bond he felt with Lauren seemed stronger than the norm for two people who’d recently met. Lem had been telling them stories of one another for years now.
Mitch would be better off to leave the bond alone. Feeding the romance brewing between them would be foolish on several fronts. Among his old heartache and new work responsibilities that gave him pause, Lauren lived too far away for going further to feel safe.
Chapter Seven
L auren couldn’t remember looking more forward to a day. “Turkey and Cheddar Jack’s my favorite.” She tucked the sandwiches she’d made into a picnic basket on Grandpa’s table.
“Mine, too. Except I prefer provolone.” Grandpa set a thermos of coffee near their cooler basket.
“Since when? You’re the one who got me hooked me on Cheddar Jack.”
“Since Mitch turned me on to provolone.”
Familiar slices of jealousy
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