The Christmas Fountain (Wishful 9)

“I could never be with a woman who was anti-dog or who doesn’t want kids. What about you?”

“Agree on the kid thing. No snoring, must love Christmas, and—” She abruptly busied herself with gathering her things.

“And what?”

Mary Alice shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

Judging by the sad look in her eyes, it wasn’t nothing, but Chad didn’t press. “Let me walk you to your car.”

Surprise flickered over her face. “Oh, that’s not necessary.”

What kind of man did she take him for? “It’s after dark. I’m walking you to your car.”

The amusement came back. “I dated Wishful’s most paranoid and well-trained cop for two years. I have a taser, and he taught me how to use it.”

Well, at least Judd had done something to show he cared about her. “It’s great that you’re well-prepared. But I’m still gonna walk you to your car.”

After a moment’s hesitation, she angled her head in acquiescence. “Let it be known that chivalry is not dead.”

“No ma’am. My mama went to great pains to make certain of it.” And he intended to pull out every lesson he’d learned to treat this woman right.

Mary Alice had been out of the general dating pool for a very long time, but she didn’t think she was so out of touch that she was mixing up the signals. Despite the less than awesome circumstances under which they’d met, Chad Phillips was interested in her. Why else would he have taken the time to bring back her scarf himself or volunteer for Fountain of Hope?

Well, he had said he was interested in getting involved with the community, but he’d specifically volunteered for the part that would have him spending time with her. That meant he was interested. Didn’t it? Or maybe he was just looking to make a friend. He was relatively new in town, after all. Either way, she was vain enough to come home from work and redo her makeup before changing into a sweater and slacks that were a little less elementary school teacher and a little more grown-ass woman who wanted to impress a guy over the age of eight.

Chad arrived promptly at six-thirty, with a carry out box from Speakeasy. He was still in scrubs beneath a zip-up fleece, with faint lines of strain around his eyes, but he had a ready smile for her. “You are the best thing I’ve seen all day.”

A blush heated her cheeks, and she was glad she’d made the effort. “In need of a friendly face?”

“And food. I don’t think I had a chance to sit down once since nine o’clock this morning.”

He looked worn at the edges, and Mary Alice had the insane urge to hug him. Instead, she stepped back to let him inside. “Let’s rectify that.”

They settled at the table she’d set with cheerful Fiestaware, loading their plates from the box in the center. He’d inhaled one slice and started on another before his shoulders seemed to relax.

“You want to talk about it?” She expected him to shrug it off, as Judd usually had, drawing a clear line between work life and everything else.

“I’m pretty sure the Universe was making up for the fact that I dared think it was quiet here. We had a heart attack, two strokes, a ruptured appendix, a concussion, and a construction accident that had me reattaching three fingers, which is where I spent most of the last several hours. I haven’t done that kind of detail work in a long time.” A faint tone of satisfaction underscored the words.

“You love it.”

“Well, I don’t wish grievous injury on my patients, but being able to fix it? Yeah, I love that.”

“Will the guy regain use of his fingers at all?”

“Not a hundred percent, but it was a clean cut, so he stands a better shot than he might otherwise. It’ll be about three months before he starts regaining any sensation. After that it’ll depend on physical therapy and luck of the draw. He’s a young guy, so that’s in his favor, too.” He polished off the second slice and reached for a third. “How was your day?”

“Not anywhere near that dramatic. Although Carrie Iverson would probably disagree with me.”

“She’s one of your students?”

Mary Alice nodded. “Moses Whitwell called her Mouth of the South.”

Chad’s mouth quirked. “A big talker, is she?”

“She’s exceptionally bright, so she often gets through with her work early and tends to socialize. I try to keep some extra things to distract her, but it doesn’t always work. Anyway, she was so offended, she made the poor decision to use said big mouth to mock his reading level, which is considerably below hers. The whole class devolved from there.” Mary Alice cut herself off. He didn’t want to hear about the silly little altercations of her third graders.

“So, what happened?”