Page 5 of Found in Wild Sage

Such shades of gray might gut me in the end, but if it helps her, it’ll be worth it.

CHAPTER THREE

Evie

After work, I brace for Dr. Ryan to approach me as I pack up. I might even be moving slowly in anticipation of it.

But he’s wrapping up patient notes in his office and doesn’t emerge while I’m there. Yes, I’m relieved, but I’m also… I don’t know. I can’t tell. If there’s no anticipation to talk to me, does this mean he regrets what he said?

All my thoughts are muted, or blurred, like looking through someone else’s glasses. It’s a good thing my job is scheduling appointments and answering basic questions for the most part. Today, it’s a relief my responsibilities are straightforward and simple enough that I can’t do much to mess them up.

Honestly, scrubbing showers and sinks and wiping mirrors would be perfect for a day like this, though I don’t miss my old life enough to wish I was at my old job. In that case, I wouldn’t know Dr. Ryan, so I wouldn’t be facing the rest of the conversation. Good.

But I wouldn’t know Dr. Ryan, and even though I should want that for my own sake, none of me does. I’m glad I know him in whatever way I can. I’m grateful for these small things even more now, after being stuck in a life where it felt like I had nothing.

Good grief, I appreciate my foggy-brained thoughts are trying to shield me from doom-spiraling about the custody case, but they are so annoying.

I drive out to the big grocery store a little outside of downtown Juniper View and do my big shop in a daze. I’m normally energized by grocery shopping now that I’m not quite so bedraggled by single mom life. Not that I have it all down, but Charlie’s amazing, I have a great babysitter who’s decently available, and I have excellent daytime childcare. One day a week, Charlie stays an hour later than usual so I can run this errand without his sweet, drooly-faced help.

There’s no joy in the process today, but I get most everything on my list including the essential items—diapers, milk, chocolate ice cream. I will absolutely be requiring some time to binge my favorite show and eat my feelings tonight.

After the store, I get back to the preschool and collect my sweet boy, and we’re both dragging. His dark hair curls up around his ears but I’m not about to cut it—he was a little baldy when he was born and it’s just too cute now. His bright eyes are fringed with dark lashes and they’re the prettiest I’ve ever seen, I swear. I’m fully biased, but he’s just adorable. And other than the dark hair, he looks just like me. Maybe as he grows he’ll get more of Trevor, who I can admit is a good-looking guy, but for now, I’m thrilled he’s my mini-me.

It’s only Tuesday and the week has felt long. It’s August in Juniper View which means my favorite season is almost here, the weather will cool, and life will feel a bit cozier.

Charlie asks for more using his baby sign language and his precious little voice. “Mo.”

I’m loving the way he’s adding words and communicating more by the day. He’s walking steadily and so curious. At fifteen months, he’s more toddler than baby, and that kills me. In some ways, time has moved in slow motion since he was born—the days, as they say, have indeed been long. But looking back, I can’t believe how big he is. I love every attempt at talking he makes, the new ways he plays, and his expanding horizons.

Still, part of me wants to swaddle him up and rock him to sleep for the rest of his life. It won’t be weird to hold my teenaged boy on my lap and rock him, will it? Right? Totally normal? Asking for a friend.

By the time I slump onto the couch with my pint of chocolate chocolate chip and pull up Stranger Things, I don’t have any more thoughts in my head. I’m just static and angst.

When I slide into bed forty minutes later, all the wild mental energy I managed to shut down this morning returns with a vengeance.

Did Declan Ryan actually propose to me today?

I mean, ha. Obviously not. But did he really offer to marry me?

It’s not as preposterous as it would sound if he were anyone else. I’ve gotten to know Dr. Ryan decently well since we met a little over a year ago and one thing I am certain of is that he is a good man. He means well, and he might even actually mean the words, but he’s not thinking clearly.

Granted, if ever a man was a think before you speak type, it’s Dr. Ryan. He is slow to speak, quick to listen, and extremely thoughtful and logical. He’s made a huge impact on families at the clinic by being a wonderful addition to Dr. Martinez’s practice now that the latter’s wife has retired. And as reluctant to talk as he can seem in regular conversation, he’s got an excellent bedside manner. He’s not so logical he can’t be empathetic, and though I haven’t seen all that many doctors in my time, I can recognize this is one of his superpowers.

He’s seen Charlie for all of his regular checkups since his four-month well baby, and he’s, well, let’s just say seeing him in action didn’t help the crush I had.

Not that I have one. I don’t. Because I can’t. Because it’d be the height of stupidity to have a crush on a man who is essentially my boss, especially after what I’ve been through. Men in positions of authority don’t scare me, but it is something they can wield, something they can hold over me. Declan Ryan is a good man, but it’s laughable to imagine forgetting my position as his employee. It’d be utterly foolish to feel a visceral ache when I think about him lately. So I don’t.

It’s early morning hours by the time I’m through running by every inane thought I’ve ever had about Declan Ryan. When that mental vacation ends, I veer back into the darker worries about losing my baby to a man who hurt me. I have zero faith he wouldn’t hurt Charlie. I also question why he wants to have custody anyway. He never seemed to want to be shackled to me, despite not wanting me to leave him, and he certainly had mixed feelings about the pregnancy right up until I left.

But I got out, and I’m not about to let the little boy who holds my heart end up with an abuser. Not a chance.

By the time my alarm goes off, and I have slept no more than twenty minutes, I’ve circled around from dreading the thought that Declan might reiterate his suggestion to hoping he will.

Yes, it’ll ruin any chance at something real between us in the future, but if I’m honest, I should admit there wasn’t any anyway. I have more of a chance of ending up with Jack McKean than I do him, and that’s saying something, considering I see Jack as a brother. Declan is a doctor from a prestigious, well-loved family. I’m a former maid who got knocked up by her abusive ex-fiancé and had her baby on the side of the road.

And oh, by the way, Dr. Ryan’s brother is the sheriff who delivered Charlie that day.

It just wouldn’t work. He can aim higher, and he’d be a fool not to. But for me?