Page 13 of The Grumpy Doc's Surprise Delivery

She glares at me and carefully pushes herself to her feet. “There, see? I’m fine.” To prove her point, she takes a step, putting her full weight on her ankle, which immediately caves in again. “Ow,” she moans as she crumples.

I’m close enough to catch her, and I barely even think about it until she’s in my arms. She glares up at me, and I help lower her back to the ground.

“Let me look,” I say again, and this time she says nothing, relenting to me.

She might think I’m the worst person alive, but I am a doctor, and a damn good one at that.

I put my hand on her ankle, feeling it gently. It’s hot to the touch, swollen and red. It doesn’t look broken, but I have to examine it more closely to make sure. A twist is bad, but not too bad. A break, though?

I don’t know how I would deal with a break out here, and I’m pretty sure she knows that too.

“Does this hurt?” I ask, applying a little more pressure. She hisses in discomfort but shakes her head. Carefully, I move my hands all the way around her ankle, feeling the swollen joint, my fingers lingering on her skin in a way that, under any other circumstances, might have made me embarrassed or flustered.

“I don’t think it’s broken,” she says, though at least she’s stopped flinching away from my every touch.

“I’m your doctor, Emma. I’ll make that kind of decision.”

She raises an eyebrow at me, but I ignore her. I’m sure she knows more than enough about medicine and is more than capable of looking after herself and her patients. But right now, she’smypatient, and no matter what my personal feelings towards her are, she deserves the best level of care that I can give her.

But also, I do think she’s right. None of the signs of a break are there, and though I wish I had an ice pack to help with the swelling, she is going to be okay.

I sit back on the ground, frowning as the undergrowth pokes at my bare legs. “Yes. I don’t think it’s broken. You’ll live.”

“I’m so glad to hear it,” she says snidely, though her face has softened for the first time since I’ve met her. It makes her look so much lovelier, like she could be a person you could have a conversation with rather than an argument.

Trying and failing to avoid the sharp bits of dirt that are stabbing into me, I shuffle to sit more comfortably. Her ankle might not be broken, but we should still stay put for a while. Walking on it now is just going to do her more damage.

“Let’s stay here for a moment,” I say. “You should rest it before we get going again.”

“Great,” she huffs. “You want us to just sit here?”

“No,” I say, trying to curb my temper and not totally succeeding. “And really, if it’s up to me, we should call this whole thing off now.”

“Call it off? But what about the leaderboard?”

The genuine distress on her face at the idea of losing makes me smile. I understand that feeling too well; I hate to lose too. “It’s not my favorite suggestion, and it will make us lose our place?—”

“What place?” she interrupts. “Because you were such an ass yesterday, we don’t have a place at all.”

“Last place is still a place,” I say before I can think about it. I’m being contrary just for the sake of it, and she’s not going to appreciate it.

Her face falls again, losing some of that softness. “Anything better than last would have been good.”

“It wasn’t totally my fault.” Clearly, I’m not quite done with arguing just yet.

I’m expecting her to snap at me again for that, but instead she just sighs, deflating like a balloon. Suddenly, all the fight has left her and she just looks tired, like she can’t even be bothered to bicker anymore. Like I’m not worth it.

That shouldn’t make me react strongly, but it does. It’s like she’s giving up on me, and even though we haven’t known each other for very long, I still don’t want her to think of me as a lost cause.

“Look, we can make it up tomorrow, okay?” I say, trying to bring some light back to the conversation. “We’ll work extra hard to try and grab some points.”

“That only works if you don’t shoot down every single idea I have,” Emma says, her lips a thin line of disapproval.

But this moral high ground she’s taking isn’t totally deserved. “You’ve been doing the same to me too, remember? I’m not the only one of us who’s argumentative.”

I’m expecting her to bite back at that one too, but instead she sighs. “I suppose you’re right. I can be stubborn. I’m sorry, I guess.”

“Me too,” I say, surprising myself. “So, let’s stay here now, then head back to the bus and set a goal to try harder tomorrow.”

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