Chapter 13
Sage
Jasher in a t-shirt and jeans, with his hair all mussed, and that flirty, come-hither look in his eye, was almost more than Sage could take. He ate his dinner without a single comment about how inferior it was—a good sign, since Sage’s cooking skills left a lot to be desired. He might not complain if she, sometime, made him dinner.
Or always.
Nope. No! If she let him get any closer, she could infect him with her curse. Who knew? It might not even take the transfer of a ring from him to her in order for the doom to activate.
He was far too good a surgeon to risk such a thing, no matter how tantalizing his near-kiss had been the other day or how much of a jolt she’d received when he’d taken her hand in the parking lot.
Yes, she needed to build a rapport—one strong enough for her to be able to persuade him to cancel his plans to sell Parrish Medical and to stay in Mendon. But beyond that, it had to end.
“Why’s it called Moose Creek?” she asked. “I’ve lived in Mendon nearly all my life and haven’t ever seen a moose.”
“Legend has it, there’s a moose population that comes through now and then.”
“Legend, huh?” She laughed and tried to cut through her steak for another bite of the peppery shoe leather. “What other legends do you happen to know about? I thought I knew all the Mendon legends.”
“Do you know about the ghost in the Chapel Hill cemetery?”
Sage’s eyes widened. “There’s a ghost?” She set down her fork. “Have you seen it?”
“It comes out only on the new moon, and only appears if you don’t have a flashlight. Anyone who brings a light of any kind has never seen it.”
“So, do people trip over gravestones on their way into the cemetery in the dark? They hit their heads and the concussion makes them hallucinate?”
“Oh, no. It’s real.” He shook his head with veracity.
So, Jasher believed in ghosts. Something about that made him even more interesting. “I once thought I saw a spirit in the operating room. I’m a ghost believer, too.”
“You are?” He looked up, somewhat surprised, but the surprise softened. “It’s not spooky to me.”
“Yeah. It’s more … spiritual. No pun intended.”
“No, I totally agree.” He sipped his ice water. “I’m still a fairly new doctor, and not to get serious all of a sudden, but I have been present at a surgery where the patient didn’t survive. It was chaotic and at the same time one of the most peaceful experiences of my life.”
Sage could only nod.
Jasher Hotchkiss. Mendon should know, he was a whole lot more than a basketball score.
“This might not be any of my business, but you said your marriage was brief and unhappy.”
Oh. He was going there? Sage looked over at the fire. It consumed things, but even fire couldn’t consume what she’d gone through with Leo. No one in the world, even Kennedy or Mom and Dad, knew the extent. It wasn’t any of Jasher’s business, like he said, but something made her want to share all of it with him. Not just the thumbnail version she usually gave to acquaintances, though she began with that.
“Let’s just say our marriage lasted only a few days, and it wasn’t brief enough.”
“You annulled.”
“He … died. Accident at work.” And Sage got all his money, even though it was her curse that had caused it. “We had a whirlwind romance before the wedding. Weeks, not months. I shouldn’t have married him.”
So. There it was. The truth. Well, most of it. Lying on the table between them, like a dead fish from the creek, with one blank eye staring up at the sky.
Sage didn’t know what she expected. Would Jasher judge her—for being stupid and marrying poorly? For letting her husband die before he had a chance to make up for his bad treatment of her?
I never should have cared about Leo. It’s when I care that things go horribly wrong.
Sage wished she hadn’t said anything. She pressed her back against the cold metal of the patio chair, turning her face away from Jasher.