Chapter Four
T he frustrating Monday shift finally over, Mav stomped through Three Bears Alaska a little after seven p.m., still gritting his teeth at that bystander not telling him she was a doctor and Deirdre picking on him. He enjoyed living in a small community, most of the time. In Yukon Valley, though, a rumor could make it across town faster than a snowmachine going full throttle on a groomed trail.
He mentally ran his list. Kibble to mix with fish and venison for his ravenous hordes, a new hammer for lodge repairs before the snowmachining guests arrived next month, a pair of wool socks to replace what Kenai had chewed through, and, of course, groceries.
Gotta love Three Bears. They stocked at least one item of everything.
Bonus, the deli was still open. He veered away from his shopping plan to see about thin sliced cold cuts for lunch this week. Mav had canned and dried plenty of salmon and venison for the winter, but he welcomed a change in meat from time to time.
“Hi, Tuli,” he said to Tulimak Sampson, a local firefighter and part-time deli employee who Mav had been friends with for years.
“ Gganaa’ ! What’ll it be, Mav?”
“A pound of sliced ham and ten pounds of beef. Can I have some bone-in?”
“For you and the team?”
“Bone broth and treats. Nothing but the best for my babies. The ham’s for me.”
“Got it.” Tuli got to work setting the slicing machine as he weighed and packaged the beef. He said over his shoulder, “Heard you took care of Bruce today.”
Mav shifted from foot to foot, warm in his heavy EMS pants, shirt, and jacket. “You know we can’t talk about what may or may not have happened at work.”
“Aggie dropped by here a few hours ago, so it’s not like Bruce’s ambulance trip was a secret. Said he was banged up but okay. It sounds like you took over for the new doctor at the wreck.” He grinned.
A nasty knot twisted in Mav’s gut. Really? That was what people thought? Sheesh. “First of all, if I come upon a wreck and a nonparamedic is there, it’s my job to take control of the situation. Hypothetically.” He scuffed his salt-rimed black boot against the blobs of melting snow on the worn linoleum floor. “Just because someone works in healthcare doesn’t mean they’re experts in prehospital care.” He leaned against the counter and pointed a finger. “In fact, more often than not, nonmedics make our jobs harder. You know all about that, working with the fire department and helping on medical calls.” The light squeak of grocery carts and low voices in the store behind him created a soothing background.
“Hey, sorry for asking, man!” Tuli piled ham slices on a piece of wax paper on the scale, then packaged up the bundle and handed it and the steak to Mav. “New doctor’s cute, yeah?”
Tuli wasn’t wrong, damn it. Dr. Tipton’s button nose and wind-pinkened cheeks made her brown eyes glow. Hell, in the ED when he’d seen her without the beanie, she took his breath away. The color of those long waves was a rich gold, like aspens in the fall. Off-balance, Mav shook his head. He had to be hypoglycemic.
“How would you know?”
“Bruce raved about her to Aggie, who then told me. Also, Billy’s fast on the hospital switchboard.”
Mav placed the meat in the cart next to him, keeping his eyes on Tuli. “Why would you, a man too busy to hang out with his friend and watch the Seahawks playoff game last weekend, have time to care what the new doctor looks like?”
“I mean, besides the obvious?” Tuli smirked and motioned in a way that encompassed the sparsely populated town with its lack of relationship prospects, unless cuddling with brown bears counted as companionship.
“Besides, she’s been in town for only four hours. How would you know her from anyone? Although I suppose she’s easy to pick out, being all city-slicker in fancy clothes and hating the cold, searching for Starbucks and a mall.”
Like his ex. Skylar had been a pretty face and nice person who hated every minute out here in Yukon Valley. He had vowed never to make the mistake of investing time in an outsider who didn’t love the Alaskan interior like Mav did.
“Because, ah…” Tuli lifted his chin.
Mav’s stomach dropped like a rumbling avalanche bore down on him. Slowly, he pivoted. Raised eyebrows above pursed pink lips identified a certain new physician who, yes, looked like she’d prefer a Starbucks and who wore expensive but inadequate gear. She blinked at him. The temperature under his coat shot up twenty degrees.
If Mav was lucky, then she hadn’t heard him.
Sweat prickled his lower back. Say something, damn it . “Um, getting deli meat?” he managed.
A ghost of a smile came and went. “Is that okay for a city slicker to do here?”
Yep, she’d heard him all right. “Tulimak will fix you right up.” He waved toward his useless friend, who had hung Mav out to dry.
Tuli now stood tall with a puffed chest.
“Thanks. Good to know.” She curled bare fingers around the cart handle. “Does this store carry any good gloves? I ruined mine while making your job harder today.”
Geez, exactly how long had she been listening? The pretty doctor must have ears like a bat.
Then, in an unfortunate turn of events, his mouth became uncoupled from good sense. “It’s true, you know,” he said. “Non-EMS personnel trying to render care in a prehospital setting can be a barrier to doing our job.” He barreled ahead like an unpiloted bobsled on a steep track. “Besides, you should have established yourself as a physician back at the accident.”
She sucked in a breath, the whoosh like an Arctic gale bearing down on him. “First of all, I didn’t see other medical personnel lined up to help at that accident, so it was slim pickings, and we make do with what we’ve got. Then you cut me off before I could identify myself. However, I’m still confused. Did the capable manner in which I stabilized our patient not make my competence clear?”
That jut of her chin and quirk to her full lips made him want to lean over and soften that mad expression with his mouth.
She continued. “Perhaps in the future I should broadcast proficiency via interpretive dance for all to see.”
Then, she smashed his budding fantasy of a commanding kiss by doing a silly arm noodle move combined with the floss dance, finished off with a jazz-hands flourish that turned into two thumbs pointed at her chest. “Ta-da. Helpful medical professional, right here. Better?”
Tuli barked a laugh, and Mav whipped his head around. His so-called friend clamped his mouth shut as he studied the spotless countertop he now carefully wiped. Knowing Tuli, he’d be posting about this encounter online before Mav left the store.
Fine. Mav had made assumptions out in the field, stereotyped, and then pulled rank. All true. But he was the Yukon Valley EMS director. That and a dollar would get him a one-dollar cup of coffee. He rubbed his chin.
Time to own up to being human. “Listen, you and I got off on the wrong foot. And the other foot I shoved right into my mouth. Dr. Tipton, I apologize.” Eating crow was not the activity he wanted to do in front of Tuli.
After a full ten seconds that felt like hours, her shoulders rose and fell, making the puffy coat shush in the now-silent deli area. “Okay.”
He extended a hand, and she met it with her own icy one. He tamped down a strange need to tug her to him and wrap his arms around her, the second time he’d felt that way today. That sort of move would be about as smart as hugging a grumpy wolverine. He imagined snarls as sharp teeth sank into him. “Good.”
“On account of us working together”—she gave a delicate snort—“you should call me Lee.” She sighed and gently slid her hand out of his. “So, gloves?”
“Sure. We’ll head over to outdoor gear.” He took two steps then stopped as Tuli cleared his throat. “Have a good one, man.” Knowing his friend, he’d feast on his retellings of Mav and Lee’s encounter for weeks.
“Nice to meet you.” Lee waggled her fingers.
Tuli waved back, somehow managing to flex his muscled arms. “Welcome to Yukon Valley, Doctor .”
Mav shook his head as he led her past produce, cleaning products, ice fishing equipment, and hunting supplies until they reached two small racks of coats and snow pants. On the nearby wall was a display of gloves and mittens.
“Oh, Thinsulate,” she said. “That’s good, right? My old gloves were this brand.”
“It’ll work great if the temperature never drops below freezing.” He tilted his head as he tried again to place her accent. It wasn’t Cajun. “No gloves.”
“Really?”
“Unless you need dexterity in the outdoors, it’s warmer to go with mittens. How about these Gore-Tex forty-below mittens, paired with glove liners. Or beaver fur mittens have amazing insulative properties.”
Her brows drew together as she turned the price tag over. “Maybe not the beaver ones.”
“Are you into animal rights?” Another snap judgment. Man, he needed to slow down the pipeline of thoughts-to-mouth.
“No. I mean, yes. Look, I don’t love the idea of killing animals for sport, but for food and materials to survive? I understand the circle of life. But the fur-lined cost a lot.” She chewed her lower lip. “The Gore-Tex and glove liners are also expensive.” Glancing up at him, she shrugged. “Student loans.” Her wry smile rocked him back on his heels. “Do I need both types of hand coverings?” she asked.
“If you don’t want frostbite after ten minutes when the windchill is below zero, then yes. Get the liner and the impermeable outer mitten.” He held up the liner, and she tried it on. Perfect fit. She stood close enough that he caught a whiff of her floral scent. No. Not exactly. He inhaled again. Floral hint mixed with berries. Tart and sweet. Seemed fitting.
She put the items in her cart. “I don’t plan on a lot of outdoor activities.”
“Not staying long enough to take in the local culture? Snow sports? Mushing?”
“Wouldn’t know where to start. Figured I’d begin with not freezing to death on the daily commute and take baby steps from there.” Her quick grin caught him by surprise once again.
Recovering, he blurted, “Garage or block warmer?”
She peered at him and blinked. “Do what to the who now?” Her Southern accent flowed over him.
Unable to resist connecting with her, he rested his hand on her elbow for a split second. “Where did the hospital put you up?”
“Seems forward of you to ask.”
“It’s one of two rentals. The entire hospital staff, the town, and the surrounding villages all know where they are. It’s not a secret.” He ground his molars and extended his hands, palms up. “Reason I’m asking is that I want to get a sense of how much gear you need.”
“Oh, okay. Sorry for getting defensive.” Another flash of pain came and went, marring her attractive features.
He wanted to explore the story behind that expression.
She sighed. “I’m staying at the place on Second Avenue. No garage.”
“Is there a white or black post about chest-high in front of the house?”
Her light brown brows drew together. “Yes.”
“Engine block heater.”
“Um.”
He crossed his arms. “You don’t know what that is, do you?” At her head shake, he said, “If you don’t use the block heater, the cold weather is really hard on your vehicle. Engine might not start due to the oil becoming more viscous in the cold temps. Plug the vehicle in when you arrive in the evening and unplug when you leave in the morning.”
“Where?”
“Oh boy.” He pulled a picture of an engine block heater attachment on his phone. “The connection is usually on the front grille or a side recess on a sedan.”
Her dark eyes went unfocused as she looked toward the ceiling. “Yes.” She nodded. “I think I know where it is.”
“Also, you’ll need warmer outerwear. You will need to walk out to your car without freezing to death.”
“Is that a literal risk or a figure of speech?”
“Both.”
“Lordie.” Her white teeth worried her lower lip, tempting Mav to taste.
Right there. He leaned an inch closer. She brushed her palms together, breaking his concentration.
Straightening her spine and patting her purse, she said, too brightly, “Okay, then. Let’s get some better gear. Lead on.”
He put a hand on her forearm, stilling her. “Why are you here, Lee?” He felt the tiny shudder even through her coat.
“I’m buying groceries and winter gear.”
“No, here. In Yukon Valley.”
A pause. “Filling gaps in critical access hospital coverage.”
Shaking his head, he said, “You could do that anywhere.” Another outsider on a temporary adventure assignment in Alaska.
Another pained expression creased her forehead for a second. “Seemed like a nice place to be.”
“Bull. People come out here because they’re drawn to the area and the self-sufficient lifestyle, they have a romantic notion of the Alaskan bush, or they’re running from something.”
Her mouth dropped open, then snapped shut in a determined line. Those brown eyes glimmered. “Is nosy psychoanalyst your side gig, for the times when you’re not busy making assumptions about members of the healthcare team?” Sharp heat laced her words. Her neck and cheeks reddened.
Crap. “No, I mean, I’m sorry. I—”
She swallowed and said in a voice a few notes too high, “So. Any recommendations for snow pants and boots?”