Chapter 4
Jasher
If Jasher didn’t get something to eat before he started his rounds, he’d get woozy. At least he wasn’t working a twenty-four-hour shift like those during his residency, but there was the downside of being nearly the sole surgeon in the region—from Grace Springs to Big Thunder—and therefore always being on call. At least that’s how it had seemed for his first week at Mendon Regional.
Man, how would it be to be working at the Knighton Knee Clinic in Reedsville instead? By contrast, a surgery center rarely had emergency calls. Everything was pre-scheduled, easy to plan. Dull—blessedly dull.
What killed him was he had an offer of employment there waiting for him. For now. How long would it remain open for him? Long enough to—
“Why, hello there.” A short, round woman in a multi-colored sweater ambushed him at the entrance to the cafeteria. It smelled good in here, like baking bread and spices. “You must be the dashing Jasher Hotchkiss I keep hearing about.”
“All good things, I assume.” Jasher grinned slightly and stifled a sarcastic chuckle, while the woman assumed a stone face. Yep, she’d heard all the bad things. “I’m just off to make my rounds. Nice to meet you, Mrs. …?”
“Inchy!” She beamed brighter than the theater light in the operating room. “It’s Phillipa Ince, officially, but everyone calls me Inchy, as in inchworm—because I worm my way into their good graces.”
Oh. Which meant she was going to ask him for something. “Great. Inchy it is. You have a wonderful day, Inchy.” He made as if to leave. Nope.
She stepped into his path again. “It will only be wonderful, Dr. Hotchkiss, if you can help me out. And I must say, if you do, you’ll be making a lot of women in town very happy.”
What the—? Jasher took a step to the side, walked up to the counter and—those looked good—ordered a cinnamon roll.
Inchy’s lips were an inch from his ear. “Don’t misunderstand me! I’m in charge of the hospital auxiliary fundraiser next Friday night and I’m looking for donations.”
Uh, Jasher was fresh out of residency, barely licensed, and stifling under debt the size of Big Thunder Mountain. “I don’t really …”
The cashier handed him his cinnamon roll.
“Come on, Dr. H.! I told you I wormed my way into people’s good graces, not their bad ones.” She winked at him. “I don’t need money. I just need your list. Ooh, and a bite of that.” She pinched off a big section of his cinnamon roll and popped it in her mouth.
“My list.” Jasher resisted the urge to let his jaw drop onto his chest. He handed her the rest of the pastry, which she took greedily. “What list?”
“Three places around Mendon.” She chomped and spoke at once. “That’s all. Your three favorites. Now, come along.” She dug in her purse and produced a pen. “Chop chop.”
At least she wasn’t asking him for money. She handed him the pen and a little note-card. “Write them down.” Munch, munch, gulp. There went his meal. “Keep them here in the county.”
Fine. Jasher quickly jotted down a list: the sluice, Newberry Dam, Moose Creek, the lookout point on Cherry Hill, and the rodeo. Just because Mendon hated him, it didn’t mean Jasher couldn’t still love the rodeo.
“There. There’s five, even.” He pressed the list into her hands.
Inchy’s eyes lit even more. “Why, doctor. How generous. Thank you.”
Generous. Okay. Whatever. He moved to step around her. If he didn’t get going, he might not make it to meet Sage at Danny’s room.
“Here!” She dug in her purse again and pressed a ticket into his hand. “Since you’re a participant, the auxiliary comps you a ticket for your spaghetti meal. Mrs. Constantini’s recipe.”
Ooh. Constantini spaghetti! Inchy could have led with that. There were a lot of unsavory things Jasher would do for a plate of Mrs. Constantini’s spaghetti.
“Now, thank you again for being part of our bachelor auction.”
Dun-dun-dun! Scary music rang in his ears.
“Bachelor auction! What?” Yes, he’d do a lot of things for pasta and sauce, but selling himself? Really? “I’m sorry. Did I hear you correctly? I think you said bachelor auction.”
“Ta-ta, Dr. H.” Inchy blew him a kiss. “I’m sure this list will bring in a lot of bids. Thank you.”
Worming her way into my good graces, my eye! He stomped down the hallway, racking his brain for some way out of it.
“Yo, doc? Is that you?” a scratchy voice called from inside Danny’s room. “I thought I recognized you.”