Page 13 of New River Gorge(ous)
I look at Brooke, fixing her with a stern glare. She should know better.
Brooke’s eyes widen, and she opens her mouth, then shuts it again.
“Yep.” June nods. “She left it in the DVCR. The one on Netflix about cake that looks like real things.”
“Meemaw,” Brooke interjects. “You’re making it sound like this ismyfault.”
“Who said that? Because I didn’t.”
Brooke’s cheeks flush, and she stares me directly in the eye. There’s a fire there. It’s intriguing. “I can assure you that I wasnotintending for this to happen. I watched an episode ofIs it Cake?and went to bed. I didn’t think I’d need to log out of Netflix to prevent a problem.”
Ok,she has a point. This really isn’t her fault.
“Then what?” I ask gruffly.
June pats Brooke’s hand again. “Then I decided I needed to have a treat and teach those hooligans a lesson.”
What hooligans? And what lesson?
“At two in the morning?” I inquire.
June’s blue eyes pin me with their glare. “If those young people can bake such ridiculous contraptions, surely my cookies are worth a prize. I was going to bake them and mail them to the show. Teach those hotshot bakers that real food doesn’t need to masquerade as something else. It can just be food. Your generation is so full of overcomplicating everything. It’s like when people slide into DMs on that internet business. Either you’re sleeping together or you’re not.”
Brooke’s hand flies to her mouth. I cram my eyes shut at June’s bluntness.
“Ok, then.” I blow out a breath. “I’m still not sure how you fell off your scooter.”
“Oh, well, I couldn’t reach the ingredients, so I stood on it.”
“You stood on the scooter? The scooter that rolls? Youstoodon it?”
“Well, I couldn’t very well get a stool to stand on with this ball and chain.” June gestures to her cast-clad foot.
“Yeah, and common sense is a flower that doesn’t grow in everyone’s garden,” I retort, but regret it immediately when Brooke’s blue eyes snap to mine in indignation at my tone.
June cackles. “Your meemaw taught you that?”
I shrug before I drag my eyes away from the challenge in Brooke’s. “Let’s take a look at what we’re dealing with.”
I gesture to June’s legs while sliding gloves over my hands.
“Swollen,” I announce as I run my hands over her ankle. “Are you in pain?”
“Not really. It hurt like the dickens at first, but I drank some moonshine before the ambulance people took me away from my home.”
I scowl as I glare at Brooke. “You let her drink moonshine?”
“I stopped her as soon as I could, but it wasn’t easy to pry the bottle away.”
“Yeah, well, now we don’t totally know what we’re dealing with, so that’s not helpful at all.”
Brooke’s fists clench at the sides of her pajama shorts, drawing my attention back to her legs. She stands up, and I’m amazed at her tiny stature but giant personality. “I don’t think it’s yourjob, Doctor Beckett Whistler, to tellmethat I’m not enough. Itisyour job, Doctor Beckett Whistler, to help my grandmother get better. Do no harm—the Hippocratic Oath. Any of those ring a bell?”
My hand is on June’s shin, but my mind is backfiring. Brooke said my full name. And I really liked how it sounded coming from her lips. I didn’t like the anger directed at me behind her voice, but my sarcasm and poor people skills make it my own fault.
June coughs, and I move my hand. “I’m ordering X-rays. They’ll wheel you back in a bit. I don’t think you’ve broken your non-surgically repaired ankle, but we need to be sure. You can follow up with your surgeon tomorrow if the X-ray shows anything. Good night, Miss June.”
I escape the room before either of them can say anything else.
