Christmas on 4th Street (Fool's Gold #12.5)(40)

When they stepped inside, he found he was in the strangest bar he’d ever seen. The walls were a pale purple-blue color and the big TVs had on what looked a lot like overweight people exercising on treadmills. Was this some sports show he’d missed while he’d been gone?

The mayor led him to a table in the corner. “Irish coffees, please, Jo,” she called as she pulled out a chair.

“You got it, Mayor Marsha.” The woman behind the bar chuckled. “Who are you torturing tonight?”

“Jo, I never torture anyone. You know that.”

“Sure you don’t.”

“This is Dr. Gabriel Boylan. Gideon’s brother.”

“Welcome,” Jo told him. “Don’t bother fighting her. It never works. It’s like quicksand. Relax and you’ll be fine. Struggle and you’ll end up sinking in deeper.”

The mayor draped her heavy coat over an empty chair and sat down. She wore a pale blue suit and pearls. “Jo has an imagination.”

Gabriel nodded even as he wondered if Jo was the one telling the truth. He shrugged out of his jacket, then sat across from the mayor.

She set her hands on the table and laced her fingers together. “You’re here through the holidays.”

He wasn’t sure if she was asking or telling, but he nodded anyway.

“You’re working for Noelle at The Christmas Attic. That must be a change.”

“It is.”

“Your military service must be satisfying, but extremely difficult. There are demands on the medical personnel. We talk about the PTSD the returning soldiers deal with, as we should. But you and those like you have your own internal struggles.”

“Compassion fatigue,” he said flatly.

“Yes. I’ve read about it. What you see, what you do, drains the soul. I hope you will find your stay here healing.” She smiled gently. “I wouldn’t presume to know what you’ve been through, Gabriel, but if you need someone to talk to, I have names.”

“I’m okay.”

She studied him for a second. “I think you aren’t just yet, but you will be.”

Jo appeared with their coffees. The mugs were tall and slender and made of glass. Whipped cream floated on the top. She set down the drinks. “I was heavy-handed with the whiskey.”

The mayor sighed. “You always were a good girl, Jo.”

Jo laughed. “That’s me. The best of the best.”

When she’d left, Mayor Marsha raised her mug. “To the holidays and being with those we love.”

He touched his glass to hers. “To family.”

“I have a beautiful granddaughter and two great-grandchildren,” she said. “And a grandson-in-law. I’m blessed. I understand your family is here now.”

“They’re visiting for the holidays.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Are they? I was under the impression they were thinking of a more permanent move. Maybe I misunderstood.”

Gabriel suspected the wily old lady didn’t misunderstand very much, which meant she had information he didn’t. His parents moving to Fool’s Gold? Was it possible? He tried to imagine what Gideon would think about it and couldn’t. Although he and his brother were twins, they were no longer close. Gideon had changed so much, he might welcome having family nearby.

“Noelle is very sweet,” she said, before sipping her drink.

Was that it? Did the mayor want to warn him away from Noelle? He turned the idea over in his head and found he was pleased that she had someone looking out for her. With no family around, she was on her own. He knew she had a lot of friends, but he wanted even more people on her side.

“She is.”

“The store is very special. But if you decide not to stay in the army, I don’t see you finding yourself in retail.”

“That’s true. It’s a nice break, though.”

“I’m sure it is. But you’re a doctor. It is in you to heal. Fool’s Gold’s new hospital is nearly complete. A state-of-the-art facility with a world-class trauma center.”

The statement was so unexpected, he was sure he looked like an idiot staring at her. “You want to talk to me about a job?”

“I want you to consider the possibilities. You might think we’re a sleepy little town, but we have more than our share of trauma victims. There are car accidents and sports injuries on the mountain in both winter and summer. We’ve already assembled an excellent team, including Dr. Simon Bradley. He’s a plastic surgeon who specializes in burn victims. We’re putting together a program to bring in patients from all over the world. Many of them will be from poor countries. We’re raising the money to help them here. It’s exciting work.”

“I’m not a surgeon.”

“Yes, I know. However your services are still very much needed. I would like you to meet some of the other doctors here in town. Get to know them. We’re also in the preliminary stages of putting together a search-and-rescue organization. We’re thinking that will launch in 2015. You would be a vital member of that team.”

He hadn’t seen it coming. An offer like this. Stay here? In Fool’s Gold?

“I can’t,” he said, coming to his feet.

“You don’t have to decide now,” she told him, still calm, still holding his gaze with hers.