“We’re fulfilling our obligations to the hospital auxiliary, Dave.”
“Oh, that.” McGreeley snorted. “I still can’t figure out why you didn’t pick my offering, Sage. I told you exactly what was on my list. Didn’t you remember?”
Oh, brother. Did she have to spell it out for him? It was too cruel, but she was tired. “Sorry, Dave. I just felt drawn to bid on the one that listed Newberry Reservoir as a date location.”
“Newberry Reservoir!” McGreeley made a gagging sound. “It’s a manure wallow. What’s wrong with you? What’s wrong with both of you?”
He finished up the final stitches, scrubbed out, and left Jasher and Sage in the room while Sage completed the emergence procedure.
“Speaking of Newberry Reservoir.” Jasher stepped closer, into her space bubble. “You left your purse in Tate and Tyanne’s truck.”
“Oh.” That wasn’t great. “What’s the best way to get it back?”
“They’re camping this weekend, since they were in town and are at the Cherry Creek campsite.”
“That sounds vaguely familiar.”
“It should. It was the fourth line on my date card at the auction.”
“How fortuitous.” Sage adjusted the flow of the desflurane. Cade stirred a little. It could take a while still, though. “We could accomplish a couple of things at once.”
“They said they’d grill us some chicken if we meet them up there for dinner tomorrow.”
It sounded good. Chicken grilled over charcoal sounded amazing. Sage’s stomach was growlingly empty. And Cherry Creek was always gorgeous.
“And while we’re there, I have a couple of things I’d like to discuss with you.”
“With me?”
“About … us.”
Sage nearly bobbled the endotracheal tube, but she steadied herself in time. “Okay,” she managed—her mind starting to fishtail like Tyanne’s boat on the back of the truck on that bumpy road at high speed.
There couldn’t be an us between Jasher and Sage. Not after what kind of miracle she’d witness him perform today with the skills of his hands.
I can’t possibly dream of putting that gift in danger.