“What about your truck?”
He shrugged. “Your granddad’s house isn’t that far from here. I’ll come back to get it.”
Harper’s heart lightened with his offer. “If you’re sure you don’t mind, that’d be nice. I’d appreciate the company,” she replied, pushing her bicycle beside her as they began their walk.
Their footsteps were unhurried as they walked across the parking lot. After listening to everyone talk about their experience of PTSD, Harper had a feeling the meeting had affected Owen as much as it had affected her.
“Pastor John seemed excited about you holding an exhibition of your work,” she said, breaking the comfortable silence between them. “Do you think you’ll do it?”
Owen looked ahead. “I want to open my studio to the public. But, after the festival, I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
“Everyone loved your work,” Harper told him gently. She knew he didn’t like large crowds and lots of noise, but he’d done so well. “If you decide to go ahead, I could give you a hand.”
Pastor John had suggested Owen turn his studio into a gallery for a weekend. It would give him a chance to see if it was something he’d like to do regularly and if people enjoyed seeing him work.
Owen’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “You’re a lot better at talking to people than I am.”
“That’s true,” Harper said with a grin. “But you were doing great at the festival. What if you pretend you’re showing me how to do glassblowing when you open your studio to the public? It might not seem so daunting.”
Owen frowned. “The people who come might get bored.”
Harper’s eyes widened. Everyone would love seeing Owen working in his studio, especially after all the compliments he’d received at the festival. “I’d be surprised if they do but, if that happens, they don’t have to stay. They could enjoy the pieces on display and leave.”
Owen looked at her with a hopeful expression. “If you’re there, would you help me explain the process?”
“I’d love to.” It felt good to be included, to be a part of something special to someone else. “But I don’t know as much as you do. You might have to answer a lot of the questions.”
“It’s better than answering all of them on my own.”
They continued walking, their conversation filled with an easy friendship and something unbelievably sweet.
Harper pushed her bicycle across the road and smiled. “Something funny happened at the clinic today. Zac’s always so serious, but he locked himself in the supply room by accident. I was busy answering calls and Ethan was with a patient. It wasn’t until someone in the waiting room heard him banging on the door that we realized where he was.”
Owen laughed; a deep, genuine sound. “I can just picture his face when he finally got out.”
Harper grinned. “He called a locksmith right after that. If there’d been a coffee machine inside the room, he wouldn’t have minded so much.”
“That sounds like Zac.” Owen stuck his hands in his pockets. “I heard you talking about an advanced trauma course at the meeting,” Owen said after a while, his tone gentle. “It sounds interesting.”
Harper’s grip on the bicycle handles tightened. “The course is great. If I was still working as a trauma nurse, it’d be perfect. Zac thinks it’ll be good for me to refresh my skills, but I’m not sure I’m ready.”
Owen stopped walking. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you can’t let fear dictate your life. Apart from what happened during COVID, did you enjoy being a trauma nurse?”
“I loved it,” she said softly.
“Does the course involve working with patients in a hospital?”
Harper nodded. “Only for a few shifts. Most of the time we’ll be using robotic training mannequins or doing our assignments from home.” She looked at Owen and sighed. “I know what you’re trying to do.”
He shrugged. “Sometimes you need a different perspective. Did it help?”
Taking a deep breath, she focused on how she was feeling. Six months ago, if anyone had suggested upskilling her qualifications she would have panicked. But her heart wasn’t beating out of control and her breathing was slow and steady.
“I feel normal,” she confessed with more than a little surprise. “It must be the company I’m with.”
Owen grinned. “Flattery will get you everywhere. When you’re ready, you’ll know if being a trauma nurse is the career you want to return to. And, if it is, the course you mentioned might be helpful.”
Harper thought of her granddad and the other complicated layers to her life. “I wish it were that simple. If I wanted to be a trauma nurse in Montana, Billings has the closest level 1 trauma center. But Granddad wants to stay here. He won’t even consider moving to Polson to be closer to Mom.”
