“Accidentally chose, please note.”
“It’s kind of nice that we’ll be away from interested eyes.”
“Oh, there are going to be eyes. Lots of them.” Jasher opened the front door to the Moose Creek dining room and showed Sage in. “Beware.”
Covering every inch of wall space was a hunting trophy. Deer and elk mostly, but also bobcat, lynx, mountain lion, bear, and even a few beaver heads.
All with beady, glass eyes.
Sage touched her clavicle. “Oh, my goodness.”
No kidding.
He led her to a table beside the long panel of windows with a view of the swelling cliff over the creek. A candle burned in a short, red glass vase.
He helped her into her chair and sat down. She looked ravishing, and he suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore, though he’d been too busy meeting with Zephyr Quennelle and going over details of the potential sale to take time to eat much at lunch.
“What’s good?” she asked, looking over the greasy, laminated menu.
“The view.” He lowered his voice. “And maybe nothing else. Order at your own risk.”
“Why did you list this place for Inchy, then?”
“Because it’s actually one of my favorite places around Mendon.”
“Seriously? Because, I’m scared of chicken-fried steak, to be perfectly honest.”
“You must face your fears, Sage Everton.”
“Wooo.” She made a spooky sound.
“No, like I said, the view is amazing.” He fixed his gaze on Sage, whose face constituted truly the best view, though the cliff and creek really did reach world-class standards for scenic beauty. The way the light from the candle flickered a reflection in her eyes turned them purple and gold. “See?” He pointed out the window.
“Oh, my goodness.” She gasped. “You’re right. Can we sit outside?”
It wasn’t like the hostess had seated them. It was a seat-yourself type of place. “I’ll just let them know we’re going out on the deck.”
“Yes. Totally yes.”
Jasher brought their candle. Because.
They relocated at a dusty table on the deck. Large cottonwood branches overhung it. The creek burbled and whooshed beside them, and the evening birds sang. An occasional breeze hissed in the treetops. A server came and lit a fire in the fire ring nearby. It crackled and sparked. Good atmosphere, believe it or not. The food wouldn’t match, but who cared?
“Okay, I totally get it now.” She waved her arm around at their surroundings, and then she closed her eyes and sat back with a satisfied sigh. “Order me the chicken-fried steak.”
Of all the things to order! It was deliciously backwoods of her. No woman in Reedsville, or any of the other large cities he’d lived in, would have said those words without mockery. How had he ended up with the girl of his dreams on this date?
He must have a guardian angel working overtime.
“I’ll have the same.” He shut his menu. Now they could talk.
Except—there was one hitch. The moose in the creek. Er, the elephant in the room.
He’d met over lunch with Zephyr Quennelle. An offer for the clinic was on the table. Jasher hadn’t officially accepted it, but he hadn’t rejected it, either.
How would Sage react when he told her about the pending sale of Parrish Medical?
She might be the girl of his dreams, but if he pulled out of Mendon, he could transform into the man of her nightmares.
But he had a career waiting for him. Something he’d trained for years to become. The pay and the lifestyle and the work were everything he’d ever wanted.
Almost.
Sage, though. She was established here in Mendon. Reedsville and the Knee Clinic were a far cry from this laid-back country lifestyle with nature and farm life everywhere. Yes, she was beautiful. Yes, she could order breaded and fried food without batting an eye. No, he couldn’t stop imagining the feel of her waist in his grasp as they’d gone down the sluice.
But—it didn’t fit. Their futures weren’t a match if he was really leaving Mendon, and he definitely was. So, he’d better try to keep himself from being swept away—like one of the dry leaves on the surface of Moose Creek—by Sage or her beauty and goodness.