Page 46 of The Healer

“In bear form?” She dished most of the food off her plate—she couldn’t eat the mountain he had served.

“Yup.” He picked at his T-shirt. “Carried these so you wouldn’t be alarmed by my naked self in your kitchen.”

She bit her tongue, not wanting to remind him she had been alarmed regardless of the state of his modesty. A bite of bacon kept her mouth occupied, but she glared at him while she chewed. Had he not intruded, she would be dreaming and in blissful warmth.

“What are your plans for the day, Doc?” He sipped his juice with his pinky sticking out.

With a dip of her head, she hid her smile as she rearranged her cutlery. “Where I need to be. At the clinic.” She spooned in the fluffiest scrambled eggs she had ever tasted. A pot of marmalade sat on the table, along with butter. Waking up to this was heaven, but if she told him that, he would intrude willy-nilly.

“So, a quick trip to Lover’s Point and a bit of snowboarding?” He arched a brow.

“Sounds like a plan.” She smiled, smearing butter onto a slice of perfectly toasted ciabatta. “Trying to bribe me to stay?” As she swept a hand across the table, she bit into her toast then licked butter off her bottom lip.

“Maybe.” He smirked.

“Got things to do back home, Dane, and a job at Indes Pediatric Hospital.” She winced.

A decision needed to be made there. She couldn’t keep them hanging on. Dr. Olson had been most understanding when the news of her parents’ death reached him. Still, they needed a doctor dedicated to saving lives and to helping children. She didn’t fit the mold anymore. Staying in Coedwig, or a place like it, might be the safer option. At least, her medical training wouldn’t have gone to waste.

Tears prickled, so she hastily squeezed her eyes shut. This wasn’t what her parents would have wanted, but neither had they foreseen their deaths nor Ilona’s inability to save them.

Dane didn’t speak, just watched her, concern furrowing his brow.

The thump of a car door snapped her out of her daze. Jake strolled across the fresh snow, stomped his boots on the porch, then knocked on the front door.

“Come on in, Jake.” Dane’s invitation gritted her teeth. This was still her home, for now.

“Good morning.” Jake’s wide grin dampened her ire.

“Grab some coffee, Sheriff, and help yourself. Dane made it.” She gestured to the fast-dwindling food Dane muscled through.

He glared at her but rose to grab Jake a plate.

“Whoa, what a privilege.” The scent of snow and wet cat reached her when Jake chose a chair. A sprinkle of white sloughed off his shoulders. “How did you sleep, Doc?” He scooped mountains of egg and bacon onto his plate then buttered a slice of toast.

“Well, just cold.” She shivered on cue, then shrugged the quilt in place, not wanting to reveal her barely decent pajamas. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll dress for the day.”

Not waiting for their replies, she bolted, shutting her bedroom door on a soft click when she was tempted to bang it. Fuck. Sucking in calming breaths didn’t steady the staccato of her heartbeat. This was small-town life. Neighbors became friends became family.

With two men in the house, she wasn’t about to shower. Thermal underwear, jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and a jacket would be good for starters. Psyching herself up, she tossed off the quilt, her tank and boy shorts, then yanked on her clothes. On the edge, she sat, donned thick socks and her boots, lacing them tight. In the bathroom, she ran a brush through her hair without looking in the mirror, but when she brushed her teeth, she made the mistake of meeting her gaze.

She gasped then gagged, swallowing toothpaste. Spitting out the remnants, she gargled and rinsed before studying her reflection. Where there had been an angry gash down her cheek, the skin had knitted like the wound was weeks old. Holy fuck. She needed a sample of Dane’s blood, pronto. All those kids in car accidents or suffering from leukemia? Didn’t he care? Did he know how his blood could save lives?

She had to play nice.

Opening her bedroom door, she called out she was ready before reaching the dining room.

“Talk was wild yesterday about your treatment of Edison,” Jake said around a mouthful of buttered ciabatta.

“I had to if he has mange. I wouldn’t be able to say for sure without a skin sample.” Or blood sample, but she didn’t mention that. “I gave him a general antibiotic, even though I don’t know how your blood reacts to human meds. Dane said the only way to find out was to inject him and see.”

Jake shrugged. “I haven’t heard of a shifter dying from antibiotics.”

“His mange might be from catnip abuse.” Dane drained his coffee and rose to gather the dirty plates.

Jake chuckled. “Yup, you’re a doctor, Ilona. After receiving an injury from him, most folks wouldn’t want to help him.”

“Leave the dishes, Dane, I’ll get to it later.” She wanted this morning done, and with any luck, a little quiet time before she opened the clinic.

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