Page 40 of Meet Me on Greenwood

"You need two stitches," I said handing Lettie the needle to sterilize.

He looked me as if he was seeing me for the first time. "How did you learn to do this?"

I laid his hand on my lap once more. "I told you, I am a doctor."

"My word," Lettie said in the corner. "I’m sorry, Ms.—Dr. Cross."

"You come from a good family," Houston said after a moment. Lettie returned with the needle and I began to insert the it into his flesh. "I can think of no other explanation. We need to cast our net wider to find your folks."

I shook my head. "That is not necessary."

He frowned, but did not push. "It’ll hold," he murmured as he examined the stitches.

"Of course it will. Do you have iodine?" I asked.

"No." He glanced toward Lettie. "But I do have vodka. There’s a bottle in the barn. Would you fetch it?"

She nodded and slipped out the door.

The room grew quiet after she left. Too quiet.

Houston flexed his hand again, studying it as though it belonged to someone else.

"I will not underestimate you again," he said at last.

"That would be wise."

His mouth twitched faintly, then sobered. "You were frightened today."

The words caught me off guard.

"I saw it," he continued. "You were right to be."

I did not answer.

"I should have listened," he said, voice lower now. "I should have brought you into town when you asked."

My fingers rested lightly against his wrist.

"Yes," I said. "You should have."

Instead of bristling, he nodded once, accepting it.

"I am sorry."

His gaze lingered on my face.

"I will never underestimate you again," he added quietly. "If you promise not to take risks like that again."

"It wasn’t a risk. It was necessary."

A faint exhale escaped him.

"Dr. Cross," he said, testing my name in a tone I had not heard before.

"My friends call me Gema."

His eyes moved from my face to our hands—still joined. He released himself from the touch, removing his hand as if remembering where he was. If I were being honest, I felt a hint of disappointment.