thought doctors liked to get patients up and out of bed as soon as possible.”
“As soon as possible. We’d prefer not to risk undoing the work we’ve done. Trust me, you don’t want to reinjure yourself. I’m sure it hurt enough the first time around.”
“Fine,” he said, unable to hide his frustration. “Then the least you can do is to play that game of Scrabble with me.” He gestured toward the board on the rolling table that belonged to the still-empty second bed, where he’d already played the word wander for twenty points.
“Where did that come from?”
“Your friend Sophie.”
Chloe rolled her eyes. “Of course it did.”
What was that about? “Am I missing something?”
She waved away his question and walked toward the Scrabble board. “Well, that seems appropriate.”
“What does?”
She pointed toward the tiles. “Wander. Sort of describes your life, doesn’t it?”
He knew she didn’t mean anything negative by it, but for some reason he suddenly felt as if his life didn’t have a lot of meaning. That was odd since he enjoyed what he did. Wasn’t that all anyone could ask for from a career, to enjoy it?
Chloe didn’t wait for an answer, but instead selected her tiles from the bag, quickly rearranged them then played her word. She rolled the table toward him so he could see.
He barked a laugh, one that hurt a little less than it had before. “Ornery?”
“I wonder why that word came to mind.”
He looked up at her and was struck anew by how pretty she was with those bright eyes, soft-looking skin and a smile always at the ready even when she was being serious.
“Can you honestly tell me you wouldn’t be doing the same thing if our roles were reversed? You don’t strike me as a woman who does idle very well.”
She pressed her lips together for a moment. “Who knew cowboys were such good judges of character?”
“Have to be able to peg a bull’s attitude.”
“You’re comparing me to a bull?”
He thought he’d made a huge tactical error until the edge of her mouth twitched. “Bullheaded, maybe.”
She feigned offense with a dramatic gasp. “Pot, meet kettle.”
He laughed again, and so did she.
“Okay, we’ll get you on your feet in a few minutes, see how it goes.”
At that news, he threw back the covers before she could change her mind. “Better avert your eyes, Doc.”
“Oh, honey, you’re not going to flash anything I haven’t seen here a million times.”
He raised an eyebrow at that, tempted to prove her wrong. The idea of making her blush sounded like the most fun he’d had in days.
“Hospital gowns aren’t the most modest of attire,” she said. “We’ll get you a second one to cover the back so you’re not flashing everyone your bum. Mrs. Carter down the hall might not be able to handle it. She’s ninety if she’s a day and a former Sunday school teacher to boot.”
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