I notice the warmth, just like he said. The sun has only been up for a few hours, yet it’s already holding in some of that heat. Mine looked smooth when he first picked it up, and the top part of it is, but when I flip it over, I can see it’s only half a stone. Cracked right down the center by something even bigger, likely. I look around at the space below us and the rough area where he picked it up from to see if I can find its other half.
“That stone,” he says, gesturing to the rock in my hand. “It’s your anxiety. Your awful night and all of the fearthat’s keeping you on edge.” I nod along to his words, keeping my focus on the rock in my hand, running my thumb back and forth over the jagged edge.
“Sometimes, I make it my sadness. When my dad fell off a tractor years ago and fractured his leg, I’d come out here, and instead of crying or wondering why, I’d toss rocks into the pond.” He chuckles, a low, almost embarrassed sound. “This pond is probably half full by now with all the rocks I’ve tossed in.” He takes one final look at the stone in his hand and tosses it up once for good measure before catching it. Then his arm is up, pulled behind him before he takes a step forward and lets it fly through the air.
His throw is a perfect arch, and we watch it sail high in the air, wincing when it falls in line with the sun before gravity takes over and it falls, plunking into the pond below with a splash.
“Wow,” I mutter a little breathlessly.
Grayson turns to me, gesturing for me to step closer to the edge. “You’re turn, Hol, give ‘er hell.”
I blush a little, embarrassed to try to throw the rock as far as he did. “I’m uh, not the best athlete. I’m not sure I’ll make it to the pond.”
“You’ll make it. I have faith you have enough fire in you right now to do so.”
I exhale my breath, turning again to face the water. I toss the stone up in my hand, thinking of last night, yesterday, and the non-stop line of patients I saw. Of the blood, the broken bones, the children involved with that car accident, and of Harry. I think of my lunchtime meeting where I was guilted into giving a speech at their obnoxious fundraiser. With those thoughts rattling around in my mind, I close my eyes, inhale the fresh air that surrounds us once more, and bring my arm back. With my shoulders square to the water, I whip my arm forward, keeping my eyes closed as I release the rock into the air.
For a second, I think I missed. The only sound I hear is the rustling of the breeze through the leaves, but then I hear that faint telltale plunk, and when I open my eyes to see the ripples still moving through the water, I turn to Grayson with my jaw popped open.
The smile he returns says it all, and he looks around my feet, reaching down to scoop up another rock. “One more?”
We spend the next twenty minutes doing just that. Finding a rock, getting a feel for it, focusing on the porous stone and the stone only until we let it sink into the bottom of the pond. When my arm grows tired, and my lids heavy, I take a step back and watch Grayson toss a few more.
When he seems satisfied, he turns to me, two warm hands coming to rest on my shoulders so I can face him. “I don’t think you hate being a doctor,” he says, and he lets go of one hand to shush me before I even get my first retort out. “I don’t think you hate being a doctor,” he says again. “I think that maybe working in trauma or the emergency room isn’t for you. I think you’re brilliant, fuck, you’re smarter than I could even imagine. I think you love the science behind it all and how that could help people. I think you have a huge heart.” He moves his palm from my shoulder to rest on the center of my chest. “I think you take on the pain of others, maybe a little more than you should, maybe more than others say is healthy. But that’s one of things I admire about you—how deeply you care for everyone you come in contact with. I think that makes you the type of doctor I’d want to see, and I’d want my family to see.”
My eyes start to well at his sweet words, but that insecurity still picks at my bones. “My parents are both doctors, and growing up, all I heard was the excitement in their voices when they’d reminisce about their day over dinner. They’d fumble over their words, excited to hear what crazy scenario the other witnessed, and I wanted to feel some of that. But…” I trail off, and I shudder out a breath.
“But it doesn’t feel like that for you?” he finishes for me.
Grayson looks around at the land surrounding us. One side of the railroad tracks is the ravine, with thick trees as far as the eyes can see. On the other side, the ravine is a little deeper, and the trees are just beginning to peek over the road. Past the trees, we can see for miles and miles the land that the Hart family owns. The hills roll one on top of the other, and way in the distance, I see one of the tractors moving through the field, turning the rows of hay into round bales.
“My family owns just over a thousand acres. To some, that’s an insane amount of land, to others, it’s a joke.” He turns to me, his hand back on my shoulders, and then they move to my neck. His thumbs tilt my chin up to force me to stare into his crystal eyes. “There are farmers out west who own tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands of acres, even. They make billions off of their land and cattle. They’d look at what we own and scoff at the life we’re trying to keep.”
I’m about to interrupt him, to tell him that it’s foolish to think like that because I can see how hard everyone in his family works to keep what they have. The love that he pours into the land, the cattle, even the goats that he always complains about, and the chickens he’sterrified of. The passion his family has to keep this going for generations is honorable.
“Would you compare our farm to those out west and say that the way we are living is embarrassing, or that we should give up?”
“God, no.” The words are out so fast they come out in a rush, and the corner of Grayson’s mouth kicks up with the start of a smile. “So, if you found a different job, one at a pace that worked better for you. Say you took Dr. Williams’s job in the clinic once he retired and you left the ER, would you be embarrassed? Would you think that the care you are providing isn’t important because it’s not on a larger scale?”
No.
Absolutely not. Now that I’m learning what this small town is made up of, I’d almost argue that it would mean more to work out here. I think of how many people, just like Grayson, that don’t seek out the medical care they need because of the distance. Because of time. Because every minute they aren’t out working the land, money is lost. Because the clinic is only open part time Monday through Friday and they don’t have the manpower for more hours. Because he’d have to take half a day off of work to go see a doctor.
“Absolutely not, no.”
“Good,” he says, leaning in to kiss me softly. “Just because you’re not doing something at the highest level, doesn’t mean that what you’re doing isn’t worthy. We’re working on making ourselves happy, remember?”
I let him pull me into a hug, wrapping my arms around his thick waist, breathing in his signature scent that’s both comforting and sexy.
“I know,” I say into the swell of his chest. “I know that you’re right. I just … it’s hard not to feel like I’m disappointing someone by making that change.”
I think I’d feel like I was disappointing some version of myself. “When I was eleven, I imagined I’d be a badass ER doctor. Like you see on TV where you cuss out the miserable relatives and save strangers on the side of the road. I wished for the day where I’d be straddling a patient on the gurney, giving my all while doing CPR to save them, but the first time that day came, I threw up afterward”.
I’ve experienced scenarios that would rival a medical TV drama, and they’ve all left me miserable.
“When I was eleven,” he says, pulling me tighter into his arms so he can prop his chin on the top of my head. “I wanted to be a world famous tractor puller.”
I huff a laugh through my nose and nuzzle further into his chest. “Well, I know for a fact that you're a locally famous tractor puller, so you’re halfway there.”
