Page 31 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

“Kerry’s going to be pissed about the tree,” Jay says through that slight smile of his. “Hates it when I wait too long after Thanksgiving.”

“Something tells me she’ll get over it.” Looking up, his gaze pleading, Rowan says, “Aspirin. Does anyone have any aspirin?”

I don’t, but I’m already on my feet. “I’ll ask inside,” I say as I race for the door. Ralph’s already opening it, a worried lookon his face. “We need aspirin,” I say, not trying to modulate my voice. “A bottle of aspirin. They think he’s having a heart attack.”

“Oh my stars and garters. I thought it would be Ralph who had the heart attack,” Ethel says, slipping out from behind her counter and hurrying toward us. She has something in her hand, and she juts it out, almost hitting me, and I nearly gasp with relief at the sight of a bottle of aspirin. “Always do believe in being prepared. The boys have called the paramedics?”

I nod, snatching up the bottle. “And they’re on their way.Thank you.”

I bolt out the door and then to Rowan, giving him the bottle. Harry steps forward with a literal case of water bottles, which he must have retrieved from his trunk. “I have water,” he announces needlessly.

“He has to chew it,” Rowan says, his hand shaking as he tries to open the bottle of pills.

My own shock and panic recede because I recognize I’m needed, and being needed has always helped me gather myself.

I take the bottle from his hands and steadily open it, shaking a few pills out onto his palm.

His eyes meet mine, and he swallows. “Thank you. Thank you.” Then he lowers his head to Jay. “Jay, man, you’ve got to chew these.”

“I think…I’d rather…take the heart attack,” Jay jokes.

“Well, you’re still having a heart attack,” Harry comments, then jolts a little, as if realizing he shouldn’t have said it. He nudges the case of water, which he set on the gravel floor, with his foot. “Should I sit in the car? Maybe I’ll sit in the car. Unless there’s anything else I can do, obviously.”

Oliver takes his hand. “Thank you for the water. Why don’t we keep standing here?”

Jay accepts the pills and chews them, making a face as he munches into them. “Kerry,” he says, looking at Rowan.

He’ll need to call her, I realize. He’ll need to tell her what’s happening. But I can tell Rowan is hesitant to move even an inch away from Jay.

“I’ll call her,” I offer.

“My…pocket,” Jay says, and Rowan slides his phone out.

It’s unlocked, so I start searching for her number, smiling a little because Rowan is giving Jay crap about not keeping his phone locked. It’s obvious he’s trying to distract him.

“She’s…wife,” Jay manages, and sure enough, her number is saved under “wife,” which is so sweet, I feel a little flutter in my heart. The photo is of a dark-haired woman with large caramel eyes. Horror starts to seep through my veins, because I’ll have to tell this lovely woman that her husband is probably having a heart attack.

“Where will they bring him?” I ask.

“Highland Hills Hospital,” Oliver says. “It’s the only one.”

I feel the burn of Rowan’s gaze beating into me, something shining in his eyes besides worry and fear, and I turn away to make the call. Ralph and Ethel are in the doorway, along with a few other people I don’t recognize. Shit. So much for keeping this outing under wraps. If there’s any hope of doing that, we’ll have to leave soon. But I can’t stand the thought of leaving Rowan alone with this.

I mean, obviously he’s not alone. He has Oliver. But…

But you’ve never met a problem you didn’t want to make your own, Kennedy, I can hear my mother telling me.

Maybe it’s true. But that doesn’t mean I’m any more willing to run out on him.

I hit the dial button, and Kerry answers on the second ring. “I’m not coming back, Jay,” she snaps. “You’re not going to make me feel guilty by sending photos of Ralph’s and the perfect tree you found there. The past is the past. You can go fuck yourself.”

Crap. Well, this is awkward.

“Um, Miss…” I realize I don’t know her last name, or Jay’s for that matter, so I settle for the “Miss.”

“Who are you?” the voice asks, her tone cutting. She releases a bitter laugh. “What, he thought he’d get a little strumpet to call to make me jealous?”

The part of me that’s punch-drunk picks up on her use of ‘strumpet,’ but it’s hardly like I can save it as evidence for my argument with Rowan.

---