Page 43 of Colton in the Wild
So why was she surprised now that he had noticed something as simple as what she liked to eat?
“You are all being so kind,” she said, feeling awkward enough that it sounded in her voice.
“You,” Abby said firmly, “are a crucial part of not just RTA, but the RTA family. And thus our family.” She looked over at Hetty as she closed the refrigerator door. “And this was the only way your mother would stay and finish her vacation. Which she needed. You seven have kept her busy for a very long time.”
“We have,” Hetty said. “But she’s been a rock for all seven of us, especially after Dad died. She still is. And if this is what it took for her to get that break she deserves, I thank you all over again.”
“I know.”
The oven timer dinged and Abby grabbed a potholder and went over to pull out a tin full of wonderful-smelling muffins. She set them to cool then glanced at Hetty, who had taken in a deep breath of the scent, which in turn had made her stomach growl audibly. Abby grinned and tugged one of the muffins out by the paper liner, plopped it on a small plate and slid it over to her, along with the butter dish.
“Butter it now, but I’d give it a minute or two to cool before you stuff it in your mouth.”
Abby Colton, Hetty decided then and there, was a delight. She didn’t know her as well as she knew her husband, having worked with him for quite a while now, but she should have guessed that a nice guy like Ryan would be married to a nice woman. And luckily for her, she was also someone who baked a wicked-good banana nut muffin. Hetty savored the taste, marveling again at how good food tasted away from the hospital. Alaska might have to import ninety-five percent of its food because of the permafrost, so that even in summer when the surface was green, a few feet down was still frozen, but the Coltons sure brought in the good stuff.
Hetty was used to being on the move most of the day, so it was a bit mentally difficult for her to stay still when her leg started seriously aching. But a perusal of the well-stocked bookshelves she found in Abby’s home office made her quickly decide maybe this wouldn’t be so bad, after all. She also wasn’t used to tiring out in the middle of the day—especially after doing nothing more difficult than getting up now and then from the chair she’d staked out for reading—but they’d warned her it would happen. And so, reluctantly, she’d accepted that an afternoon nap was going to be on the agenda for a few days.
When she woke up after that first nap to a vase full of her favorite flowers, the Alpine Aster, the delicate lavender blossom with the bright yellow center, she felt as if she’d landed in some expensive, full-service hotel.
Having learned the hard way with a near tumble, she moved very slowly to get up, using the crutches she’d this time left next to the bed. The house seemed quiet at the moment, but the door to Abby’s office was open, so she peeked in. Spence’s mother had been reading something on the screen of a laptop, but immediately looked up.
“Well hello,” she said. “How are you feeling?”
“Rested. And better, I think.”
“The two go hand in hand, I suppose.”
Hetty smiled. “The flowers are lovely. Thank you.”
Abby smiled back at her as she got to her feet. “Don’t thank me, I only provided the vase. Thank Spence. He stopped by to see how you were doing, and brought those with him. He stopped to gather them on his way here, said they were your favorites.”
It was a moment before she could react to that. Spence had been here? In her room, while she’d been asleep? Although, it made no sense that that made her pulse kick up, not after the night they’d spent in the cave. Or maybe it was that those circumstances had been so unique, it didn’t count; it was all part of the craziness of that day and night.
“They are my favorites,” she said, her throat a little tight.
Was there nothing the man hadn’t noticed? She’d bet there were friends she’d had for years who couldn’t have come up with everything he had. And to handpick that bouquet…
“This scared us all, Hetty,” Abby said quietly. “But especially Spence. I think he had this image of you as indestructible.”
Hetty’s mouth quirked. “Feeling pretty fragile right now, and I don’t like it.”
“I’m just glad you’re going to be all right, no matter how long the path to get there is.”
And that, Hetty decided, was the outlook she needed to adopt. She was going to be all right, eventually. And it very easily could have been worse.
“I might have bled to death, if Spence hadn’t been there. If he wasn’t always so prepared for anything.”
“His father taught him well,” Abby said.
“I will never again tease him about lugging that backpack everywhere.”
Abby laughed then said, “He’s got a run to make today, to one of the fishing camps, but he’ll be here for dinner. And he’d better show up because he’s supposed to bring dessert from the bakery.”
Hetty wondered if he’d hit a home run on that, too, somehow remembering her favorite pecan pie. She decided she wouldn’t expect it, but at the same time wouldn’t be in the least surprised if he did.
“Now, how about a snack to tide you over until then?”
Abby walked beside her down the hall, matching her slow pace but not making a big deal of it, which Hetty appreciated. She took a seat on one of the high stools at the kitchen counter, grateful, if for no other reason, that they were easier for her to get on and off of since it required less exertion of the very muscles trying to heal. The doctor had told her it would take several weeks for her to be back to her old strength and control, and that, for the first few of those weeks, she’d be seeing a physical therapist here in Shelby.
