Page 25 of My eX-MAS Emergency

“Your aunt will see right through your plotting, kid.”

Quinn laughed. “You don’t seem to be against it.”

He certainly wasn’t, as unrealistic as it was. “I guess we could think of something.” What the hell? Right? She couldn’t hate him any more than she already did.

Quinn squealed. “I’m getting ready now. See you in thirty. Over and out.” She hung up.

Tristan smiled at his phone. At least he was making his niece happy. He only hoped she wasn’t terribly disappointed when it didn’t turn out as she wanted. It would take nothing short of a Christmas miracle for Calista to forgive Tristan, or to even look at him, for that matter. To hope for anything more would be insanity. He couldn’t help but want to jump on the crazy train.

He hurried to get ready, thinking of a way to get Calista to at the very least look at him. It irritated him the universe had put a kink in his plans for the day. Why did that doctor have to get sick? Where was the Christmas magic in that?

Tristan put on his cowboy boots because Calista used to say she loved a man in boots. With any luck, he would at least see her tonight. He was sure she would want to see the new kitten. She loved cats. He didn’t care if Stella was allergic to them. He would bring it by for a visit. That might open a tiny door, or maybe a window.

With those thoughts, he shoved his wallet in his pocket and headed out the door. He needed to feed the horses before he left. While traversing the wraparound deck, he realized cowboy boots probably weren’t the best choice. The previous night’s snow had made it slick. He slipped a few times on his way to the stairs. He gripped the railing as he walked down the wooden steps, thinking he had this, but his overconfidence was his downfall. His damn boots came out from under him, and he fell on his back and slid down a few steps. It would have been okay except … “Hell!” he yelled. The exposed nail he’d been putting off fixing for weeks tore through his shirt and right into his back.

He immediately felt the blood stream down his skin.

“Damn it!” he yelled to himself. His voice echoed across the deserted ranch. He let out another string of four-lettered words, trying to ease the stinging pain. It didn’t help. He hadn’t had an injury like this in years. While writhing in pain, frustrated with himself for being so careless, it occurred to him that perhaps this was the Christmas magic he was looking for, as torturous as it felt. The tear in his skin felt deep. He might even need stitches, or at the very least, a tetanus shot. His doctor would most likely be closed the day after Thanksgiving. He should probably go to the ER and get this checked out.

Calista couldn’t very well ignore him then. Right?

CALISTA

“JUST KEEP YOUR FOOT ELEVATED and iced for the next few days and put as little pressure as possible on it. If the swelling doesn’t go down and the pain persists, come back in,” I instructed Mr. Yates. The X-ray didn’t show a fracture, but sometimes swelling could mask a break.

“Thanks, Dr. Monroe,” he responded.

“I swear you tripped over the dog just so you didn’t have to put the Christmas lights on the house today,” his wife complained.

I held in my snickers and left them to their bickering. “Merry Christmas.” I pulled back the curtain and rushed out of there.

Lucy was waiting for me. I think she might have been a little disappointed I was on shift and not Dr. Shackwell, who I had discovered was Lucy’s brother’s best friend. I wasn’t all that thrilled I had to come in either. But apparently, Dr. Shackwell was running a fever and coughing up a lung. So here I was on my day off. At least I didn’t have to see Tristan. It was a silver lining.

Lucy was bouncing on the balls of her feet, wringing her hands.

“Is everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” she squeaked.

I narrowed my eyes, not buying it. “What’s wrong?”

She grabbed my arm and pulled me farther away from what we called the fast-track beds behind the curtains.

Now I was really getting worried. “Lucy, what’s going on? Are you worried about Dr. Shackwell?” I knew she thought he was a bad boy, but I’d seen the looks between the two of them. There was definitely some sexual tension going on.

“Noooo,” she laughed nervously.

“Okay, then what?”

She cleared her throat and squinted. “I just wanted to give you a heads-up about your next patient.”

“Is it maggots?”

“No.” She squirmed.

“Spiders?” Please don’t let it be a spider in the ear. I hated spiders.

“It’s worse.”