Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Heather
T he kind of excitement that bubbles up in your chest and makes it hard to keep a secret is exactly what I feel as I scan the colorful rows of children's books at Page Turners.
My fingers dance over the spines, selecting tales of adventure and magic that I know will captivate the imaginations of the young patients at the hospital.
With every book I add to my basket, I envision their bright eyes wide with wonder.
“Will these be gift-wrapped?” the cashier ask, her own smile mirroring mine as she eyes the growing pile by the register.
“No, thank you,” I reply. “They're for a special event at the children's hospital.” My heart swells at the thought of sharing this moment with Lincoln, whose dedication to his young patients inspired me more than he knew.
Brylee steps out of her office. “Did I just hear you say these are for the children’s hospital?”
I nod, handing the lady my credit card.
Brylee pushes the card away. “Absolutely not. It’s on the house.”
“Are you sure? It’s a lot of books.”
“Girl, you know I’m a sucker for children. Take the bags and make sure they get good homes.”
With the trunk of my car filled with books, I drive to the hospital, rehearsing how I present the surprise to Lincoln. The sun dips lower in the sky, as I make my way to the place where healing happens, a place that Lincoln has made his second home.
“Hey, Heather! What brings you here today?” Nurse Thompson greets me at the main desk, her knowing glance suggesting she is already in on the plan.
“I’m here to set up a surprise reading session for the kids…and for Lincoln.”
“Ah, I see. Follow me.” Her brisk walk matches the determination in her voice, and I follow closely behind her, feeling like an accomplice on a covert mission.
We navigate the corridors until we reach a room filled with colors and toys, a safe haven within the sterile hospital walls. “This will be perfect.”
“Dr. Montgomery has no idea, does he?” Nancy's eyebrow arches playfully as she helps me arrange the books and activities on a large table in the corner.
“None. And I want to keep it that way.” I check my watch, calculating the minutes until Lincoln's shift ends. “Can you make sure he comes here without suspecting anything?”
“Leave it to me. It's not every day we get to surprise our very own hero.” Her voice is low but carried the conspiratorial tone of someone who relishes the challenge.
“Thank you, Nancy.” Gratitude laces my words. This wouldn't be possible without the support of people like her who understand the importance of bringing joy to places where it is sometimes in short supply.
“Anything for those kiddos...and for a good love story in the making,” she winks, leaving me with a blush creeping up my cheeks.
As the last book finds its place, my pulse quickens with the anticipation of sharing this experience with Lincoln.
It isn't just about the books or the surprise; it is about showing him that he isn't alone in this—this desire to make a difference, this town, and maybe, just maybe, in life beyond these hospital walls.
The sliding doors whisk open with their familiar whoosh, and there he is—Lincoln Montgomery—in his element, unaware of the impending interruption to his routine. Tall, dark-haired, with a presence that somehow manages to be both commanding and gentle, just like the heroes from the bedtime tales.
“Dr. Montgomery!” I call out, almost too eagerly.
He pauses mid-stride, his deep eyes searching the room until they land on me. A flicker of surprise dances across his face, swiftly replaced by a crescent smile that sends a ripple of warmth cascading through me.
“Baby? What are you doing here?"
“Surprise!” The word leaps from my lips, betraying the calm I practiced. “I thought the kids would love a special story time today—and who better to join me than their favorite doctor?”
The admiration that lights up Lincoln's features is enough to chase away any lingering doubt. He approaches, closing the distance between us as I offer up the stack of books like a treasure trove of adventures waiting to be unveiled.
“Wow, Heather,” he says, his gaze flitting between the titles. “This is incredible. How did you manage to pull all this together?”
“Let's just say I had some help from your admirers.”
“Admirers, huh?” He raises an eyebrow, that soothing chuckle of his filling the space between us. “I had no idea I had such a fan club.”
“Trust me, you're quite the celebrity around here.” I nudge him playfully, comforted by the ease of our banter. “Ready to make some magic happen?”
“Lead the way,” he gestures, his eyes glinting with gratitude and something else—something that whispers of shared moments yet to come.
“I spoke with the hospital and got the okay to warm up the room a bit for the kids. I hope you like it.”
“It's like walking through a rainbow.” His eyes absorbed the murals—galaxies of stars, forests brimming with wildlife, undersea worlds shimmering with imaginary creatures. It is a landscape of hope painted over the stark reality of sterile hospital life.
“Definitely makes the place less intimidating for the kids,” he remarks. His voice carries a tender note, one that resonated with the same warmth he always offered his patients.
“Exactly.” I nod. “A little color can do wonders.”
As we turn the corner, paper lanterns hung in clusters.
The reading nook is awash with sunlight streaming through large windows, illuminating the cozy space set up for today's event. Plush cushions scatter across the carpet inviting the children to sink into stories and dreams, far away from the reality of IV drips and medical charts.
“Wow, you really have thought of everything, haven't you?” Lincoln's voice is ripe with a playful tease, but beneath it, I sense the layers of respect and something akin to awe.
“Maybe,” I allow myself to say, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, a subconscious admission of pride. “But the real magic is going to come from the stories. From the characters that'll leap off the pages because of your voice bringing them to life.”
“Our voices.”
“Hey, look! They're here!” A chorus of young voices rose up as we stepped into the reading nook, their excitement palpable in the air.
“Are you going to read us a story?” asks a boy with a mop of curly hair, his eyes bright despite the pallor of illness. He clutches a teddy bear close, its fur worn from countless hugs.
“Absolutely, Jamie.” He responds.
“Can we start with The Pirate's Parrot?” pipes up a petite girl wearing a bandana adorned with skulls and crossbones. “I wanna hear about the treasure!”
“Treasure it is,” Lincoln chuckles, opening the book with a flourish that draws giggles from around the room. The children settle onto the cushions, their attention fixed on him.
“Once upon a time, in the deepest blue sea,” Lincoln begins, his voice dipping and soaring like the ocean waves in the story. I watch as the children leaned forward, hooked by the rhythm of his storytelling.
As we delve deeper into the tale, the children's hospital room transforms into a distant island filled with hidden riches and swashbuckling fun. Each child has become part of the crew, eager to discover where the map will lead next.
“X marks the spot!” they shout in unison, as the pirates uncover the buried chest brimming with gold and jewels.
“That was the best story ever!”
Lincoln and I exchange glances. There is something truly magical about sharing these moments, about witnessing the joy stories can bring to hearts that need it most.
The children get to pick a book to take back to their room and they take off in different directions in search for the perfect one.
I gather the scattered books, tucking them back into the basket that has become a treasure chest of tales. Lincoln is helping too, his hands gentle and sure as he sorts through the colorful spines.
“Look at them,” I whisper, nodding toward the children, some already dozing off, clutching their favorite book from our reading session. “We did that.”
Lincoln follows my gaze, a smile touching the corners of his lips. “Yeah, we did,” he agrees.
“Thank you for bringing this to life.” His eyes lock onto mine, deep and soulful, and for a moment, I glimpse the man behind the professional facade.
“It wouldn't have been the same without Dr. Montgomery, the storytime hero.”
He chuckles, a sound that seems to dance around us, light and free. “I think the real hero is the one who planned all this.”
“Heroes come in pairs, haven't you heard?” I tease back, unable to resist the playful spark between us.
An hour later, I make my way out of the hospital. My phone buzzes in my pocket, breaking the silence. It was a message from Red.
Call me ASAP! You won't believe the gossip going around town...
“Always something,” I mutter, thumb hovering over the call button. I tap my foot impatiently against the sidewalk.
“You have to hear this…”
“What's going on?”
“You remember Carrie Anne Baxter from high school?”
“Vaguely,” I reply, my mind flicking through yearbook pages to place the name. “Why?”
“Well, she's back in town too. And guess what? She's been asking about Lincoln.”
“Lincoln?”
“Yep. Apparently, she's on the prowl again, if you catch my drift.”
My heart does an uncomfortable flip-flop. A high school sweetheart is not something I factored into this equation. “Well, that's...interesting.”
“Interesting? Girl, this is Lawson Ridge! It's practically a soap opera episode,” Red squealed.
“Right…” I trail off, unsure whether to laugh or groan. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
“Anytime, sweetie. Oh, and Heather?”
“Yeah?”
“Be careful, okay? Things are about to get interesting around here. Real interesting.”
“Got it,” I say, though 'interesting' is the last thing I need and hang up.
Carrie Anne Baxter or not, today has been perfect.