Page 16 of The Doctor's Simple Life

I can’t leave just yet.

I suppose there’s no harm in staying for a snack. If it’ll make the woman happy, I guess I have to oblige. Maybe this is why I never wanted to do home visits.

Or maybe, just maybe, this is showing me why people do.

CHAPTER 8

SIENNA

“Let me stay tonight,” I say as firmly as I can.

But nothing is firm enough for Gramma. She shakes her head. “Don’t be silly. You’ve got an early morning. You don’t need to waste your time fussing over me, honey.”

We’re in the dining room now. Gramma insisted she was feeling okay enough to move and refused to let Reece leave until she’d fed him. Usually, I find the way she looks after people endearing. It was part of why I became a nurse, after all.

But right now, it’s infuriating.

“Gramma, please don’t fight me on this one. I’m staying.”

“I can look after myself just fine.”

“I know you can, but?—”

She interrupts me sternly. It’s hard to be stern with the person who taught you how to do a stern voice to begin with. “Why don’t you walk young Dr. Westbrook home?”

“He lives just around the corner, Gramma. He can walk himself down.”

“Where are your manners?” she scolds me, just a shade above wagging her finger. “It’s only polite to escort him back after he came all this way just for me.”

I decide not to argue with her any further. This is the kind of fight that I never end up winning. I’ll come back later anyway. She can’t really stop me. I don’t want her to be on her own tonight. And whatever she tries to tell me, I know she doesn’t want to be alone either.

“Come on, then.” I sigh, getting to my feet.

“It was lovely to meet you, Mrs. Hale,” says Reece, holding out his hand to shake hers. This polite, kind young man is giving me whiplash. “Don’t think twice about calling if you need me, okay?”

“Thank you,” she says, then waggles her eyebrows at me.

I groan and walk away.

We head out into the night. “I’m sorry,” I say, finally. “Gramma kind of has some old-fashioned ideals.”

“Not that much,” he says, and I frown.

“What? It was pretty old-fashioned to insist that I walk you home.”

“Old-fashioned would have insistedIwalkyou,” he says with a shrug.

I haven’t really got an argument for that, so I just say, “Thank you for coming, anyway. You didn’t need to, and I really appreciate it. I’m sorry to have interrupted your evening.”

“Not at all,” he says with a distant smile. “It was better than cable TV.”

“You’re watching cable?” I scoff. Even in this town, I didn’t think anyone still used cable.

“The internet out here is total garbage,” he huffs. “I can’t get any good TV to stream at all.”

“You can’t have it set up right then, can you? The rest of us manage just fine.”

He makes a face of contempt at me. “Do you?”

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