Bonus Scene

From Doc’s Point of View

“Zachariah, I’m telling you for the last time, I’m not ordering you distilling alcohol. So don’t ask again.” He moved from behind the register and headed toward the door. “I need to skedaddle, and you can’t stay here.” Doc shuffled forward, pushing Zachariah along with him.

The old bootlegger stopped close to the door and faced Doc, holding his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. I need to get anyway. It just so happens I have a business meeting.”

“Business meeting?” Doc repeated, using air quotes. “Do you mean a sales call? I’m telling you, distilling can be a dangerous business. I don’t want to have to say ‘I told you so’ one day when you have an accident.”

Zachariah lifted his head defiantly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I run a reputable business selling firewood.”

“Uh-huh. Your side business is the worst kept secret in the county. Just stop before the worst problem you have isn’t a shortage of cooking materials.”

Zachariah huffed and banged out the door, stalking down the street.

“Dang fool,” Doc said under his breath as he reached to turn off the “The Doctor is in” sign before heading out and locking up. Despite the unlit sign, he knew the residents of Aspen Cove would bang on the door if they needed anything, anyway.

Being the only doctor in a small town meant he was on call 24-7, and no one paid any mind to whether or not the sign was lit. Back in the days of pagers, he was often asked if he ever thought about getting one. But it never failed, someone would interrupt those conversations with a medical emergency he needed to tend to.  

Doc would wave his hand as if to say, “who needs a pager?” before heading out the door. Word of mouth functioned just as well as any technology in his experience.

He climbed into his old, blue truck, started it up, and backed out. He was heading out on a rare non-medical house call. Not only was he the town’s only doctor, but he was also the town’s only real estate agent.

Developers were lurking, trying to capture what they could of the town, but none of them called Aspen Cove home.

Sheriff Cooper had called him earlier, asking him to stop in to see Sage Nichols, one of Aspen Cove’s newest residents. Apparently, Sage was thinking about selling the bed-and-breakfast.

Although Bea had hoped that Sage might find what she needed in Aspen Cove and would stay, Doc knew immediately when Bea told him her plan that it might not work out. Taking a girl out of the big city and setting her down in a tiny town lacking all of the things young people deemed important these days, like Target and Starbucks, and expecting her to stay, was a tall order.

Doc wasn’t going to force the issue if she was hellbent on leaving, but the chances of her being able to sell to anyone besides a developer were pretty slim. Hopefully, she wouldn’t go that route. He hoped that while she waited for a buyer, she would discover what made Aspen Cove special.

Before he had even met her, Doc developed a special place in his heart for Sage, although he would never say as much. He wouldn’t want anyone to think he’d gone soft.

In her final days, Bea had been hospitalized, but she refused to allow townsfolk, save Doc, to come and visit. He knew Sage had truly made a difference during that time, keeping Bea company, and making sure she had everything she might need, including the pink paper that had played such an important part in her ability to impart her final wishes.

When he made his regular trips to visit her, Bea would tell him about her special connection with this young lady, who reminded her so much of her daughter, Brandy. It was Bea and Sage’s close connection he was counting on.

As strong as Bea was, he knew Brandy’s death took a toll on her. That day was a dark day for the entire town, losing two of their beloved residents in one tragic accident. But Doc was confident Sage sensed Bea was special, and Bea had become important to her during that time as well. It was their connection he was counting on.

Bea had spent the last days of her life making careful plans to ensure that those she loved were taken care of and that the town would carry on. There were changes coming, starting with the arrival of Sage and Katie, the new owner of the bakery.

As old and set in his ways as he was, he knew the town needed some fresh blood, and he hoped these two women might do the trick.

When he pulled up, he saw Sage’s car and knew she was home. He headed to the front door and could hear a heated conversation as he lifted his hand to knock. Seconds later, he was greeted by Sage, who cradled a bird in her hands. Behind her stood Cannon.

Doc knew the two didn’t have an ideal first encounter, so the fact that they were together was curious.

“House call?” Cannon asked Doc.

Doc shook his head as he stepped inside. “Nope, I’m putting on a different cap today. Sage asked for a real estate agent, and I’m the only one in town.”

She closed the door behind him. “You’re the agent Sheriff Cooper sent?”

He leaned over in a mock bow. “Paul Parker, real estate agent and doctor, among other things.”

Doc watched as the look on Cannon’s face changed from one of amusement to one of annoyance.

“You’re leaving?” Cannon said it like he was surprised. “Give me the bird so I can put it in a bush and hope it dies quickly.”

“No, I’m not letting it die.” She sheltered the bird against her chest and turned away from Cannon.

“You can’t nurse him back to health if you leave, and it would be cruel to take him with you. Its poor mate already flew away, and you can’t take it home.”

Doc watched the interaction, amused.  Their sparring reminded him of the back-and-forths he used to have with his beloved Phyllis, his wife of over forty years. And, like so many arguments they’d had, this argument seemed to have a deeper meaning. It didn’t appear to be about the fate of the injured bird at all.

He wondered if Sage might have realized she had a place here after all.

Eventually, Sage relented. “Fine,” she yelled. “I’ll stay until the bird heals.”

Doc took that as his cue to leave walked to the door. “If you’re staying, you don’t need me.”

“Wait,” she called. “While you’re here, can you look at it?” She held out her hands.

Doc thought for a second about continuing out the door, but he couldn’t ignore Sage’s look of desperation. He grumbled under his breath before saying, “I wear a lot of hats in this town. Veterinarian isn’t one of them,” even though he knew full well that he wouldn’t leave. He could see the grateful look on Sage’s face as he changed direction and stalked into the kitchen. “Is that coffee I smell?” He took off his coat and hung it over a chair. “Get me a cup and a towel.”

Minutes later, the bird was in the hands of Doc, who examined it just as he would any of his human patients.

The bird tried to flap its injured wing. Well, this just won’t do, Doc thought to himself. Doc turned to Cannon. “Calm him down, son.” Cannon did as he was asked and reached over to calm the startled creature, covering its head, which caused it to still.

Doc watched Sage’s involuntary response at Cannon’s gentle movements. He swore, if this was an old-timey movie, she would have been overcome with the vapors.

After calming the bird, Cannon picked up the cup of coffee Sage had poured him and sipped. A visible shudder ran down his body. “This is awful. Do I need to show you how to make a decent cup of coffee?”

She scoffed. “Just drink it. It’s not that bad, and it’s not like you’re drinking Starbucks every day.”

Doc took a taste from his cup and grimaced. “You’re right, it’s swill.” He set down his cup and headed toward the door to get the medical bag he kept tucked under the seat of his truck. Despite a complete lack of experience in ornithology, he was fairly confident that the bird would be fine (as long as Sage didn’t give it any of the slop she was trying to pass off as coffee), but he would try to help however he could. Hopefully word didn’t get out in town that he was taking veterinary patients or that he’d gone soft.

Doc grabbed his bag and headed back into the house.

“You really do house calls?” Sage asked.

“Not if I can help it.” He pulled out a piece of gauze. Doc flexed the wing and said, “It doesn’t look broken, and it’s not bleeding. I’d say it’s a pulled muscle, but then again, what do I know? I’m not an ornithologist.” He stabilized the wing the best he could and packed up his bag.

“What do I feed it?” Sage asked.

Doc lifted his shoulders. “A cheeseburger?” He looked toward Cannon. “You making a liquor run tomorrow?”

He nodded. “You need anything from town?”

“Nope, but you can take Sage with you. Drive by the pet store so she can get some worm meal or seed or whatever they feed birds.”

Doc thought maybe the two of them might benefit from some time together. While Doc wasn’t going to force the issue if Sage was hellbent on leaving, he wasn’t opposed to providing a little nudge in the opposite direction. Bea would have approved.

He gave some instructions on care as he grabbed his coat, and he reminded Sage that she now owed him double, and he would see her at the clinic on Monday to work off her debt as he turned to leave.

Cannon piped in, “If she’s still here.”

“Oh, she’ll be here,” Doc said. “You two lovebirds have a good night.” He pulled the door shut, smiling to himself.

He’d initially had his doubts that Sage would want to remain in Aspen Cove, but after seeing those two together, he was cautiously optimistic that she might find at least one reason to stay, and it wasn’t because of a bird. Only time would tell.