The door burst open, and Mason walked in with Kristen by his side. Both of them looked a little frazzled, but their faces instantly lit up when they saw Ginger sitting up in bed.
“Hey, look who’s awake!” Mason exclaimed, holding up an enormous bouquet of flowers. “We thought we’d come to cheer you up, but it looks like someone beat us to it.” He winked playfully at Ethan, who rolled his eyes good-naturedly.
“Guys, you shouldn’t have,” Ginger said, touched by their thoughtfulness. She inhaled the sweet scent of the flowers before placing them on the bedside table.
“Of course we should!” Kristen chimed in, pulling up a chair and taking Ginger’s free hand. “How are you feeling?”
“Better now that you guys are here,” Ginger replied honestly. “I guess I had a bit of a rough day.”
“Speaking of rough days,” Mason began, his eyes twinkling mischievously, “do you remember that time in fourth grade when you tripped on the playground and knocked over the entire row of bikes?”
Ginger groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Oh, no, please don’t remind me!”
“Come on, it was hilarious!” Mason insisted, laughing. “You were trying to show off for that new boy—What was his name… Timmy? Tommy? And you ended up causing a bicycle domino effect!”
“His name was Tony, and can we please forget that ever happened?” Ginger pleaded, turning a deep shade of red.
“Aw, don’t worry, Ginger,” Mason said, leaning in to give her a bear hug. “We love you, clumsiness and all. Plus, it’s nice to know some things never change.”
“Speaking of things that never change.” Ida Green entered the room, carrying a large plate of cookies. “I thought you might be in need of a little sugar boost after your ordeal.”
“Ida? How did you even know I was here?” Ginger glanced at Ethan, who shrugged.
“News travels fast in small towns,” Kristen said.
“Well, you shouldn’t have come all the way down here,” Ginger said. “It’s just a broken leg. I’m sure I’ll be released any minute.” She reached for a cookie and eyed the door, hoping for a doctor to come and release her.
The door opened, but it wasn’t a doctor. It was Myrtle.
“Ginger! I heard someone was brought in, and I just had to come see who it was. I’m so sorry you got hurt, dear,” Myrtle said, her eyes widening at the sight of Ginger’s cast.
“Thanks, Myrtle,” Ginger replied with a weak smile. “I hope you didn’t come all the way here to see me.” This was getting ridiculous. Ginger knew Pinecone Falls was a small town, but she barely knew these people.
“Ah, well, I was actually here trying to find someone to foster some kittens,” Myrtle admitted. “I figured nurses are so nurturing, I was sure to find a victim… er, volunteer.”
“Um, excuse me?” a voice interrupted from the doorway. It was Dorothy, looking apologetic and concerned. “I hope I’m not intruding, but I heard about what happened, and I wanted to come introduce myself. I’m Dorothy Woodward, and I feel absolutely terrible that you fell at the tree farm.”
Ginger was touched by the woman’s concern. “Please don’t worry about it. Accidents happen, especially to me.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you. Of course, the circumstances could be better.” Dorothy waved to Ginger’s cast. “Mason has said wonderful things about you.”
Before Ginger could reply, the doctor entered with a clipboard in hand. He looked at Ginger then at the worried faces of her friends and family. “Miss Sanders, you’ll be relieved to know that your injury isn’t too severe. However, you will need to rent a wheelchair—no walking for at least two weeks due to the nature of the fracture.”
“Two weeks?” Ginger’s mind raced, adjusting to this news. How would she get around the tree farm? Would she be able to mix up the formula she’d devised for the trees while in a wheelchair?
“Better safe than sorry,” the doctor added, his tone a mixture of caution and sympathy. “You don’t want to risk further injury.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Ginger replied, trying to sound appreciative while secretly cursing her terrible luck. “I promise I’ll be careful.”
“We’ll take another look in a week, and if everything looks good, you can start to use the crutches part-time,” the doctor said encouragingly before turning to leave.
Ginger looked around at everyone. “I guess that’s not so bad. I’m sure I’ll be able to get around fine in the wheelchair, and it’s only for a few weeks,” she chirped, showing her usual cheery optimism.
“There might be a problem,” Ida interjected. “The inn doesn’t have an elevator, and there are no rooms downstairs.”
“Really?” Ginger gnawed her bottom lip. How would she get upstairs in a wheelchair?
Dorothy stepped forward. “I have that covered. Since you fell on our property, it’s only fitting that you stay with us.”
