Page 26 of Holding Hope

“I hope to see more of you, young lady.”

A smile broke across my face as she returned to her desk. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll be sure to come out to town more often,” I promised.

The door behind her swung open, and Mr. Ferguson stepped into the foyer. He looked exactly the same—big beard, round belly, and that mischievous twinkle in his eyes. As a child, I’d been convinced he was Santa Claus. Or at least related.

“Clarke!” he boomed, his smile widening. “Who’ve we got here?”

His welcome was short but warm. He’d always been business-oriented, always giving his patients his full attention. That was why everyone loved him—he cared, and he took the time to care.

“This is Clarke’s friend, Avalon Kennedy,” Honoria said, flashing me a wink that made my cheeks burn. Friend was generous—we were barely acquaintances.

“She scraped her knee on Daisy’s door.”

Dr. Harris’ laugh rumbled through the room, vibrating in my bones. Avalon turned to me, her face as red as a spring tomato.

“What? Does everyone know about Daisy’s door?”

“Well, it’s somewhat of a rite of passage,” Dr. Harris said, placing a gentle hand on her back and guiding her toward the exam room. “I’ll tell you about the time I had to stitch up three of the McGafferty boys while we get you this tetanus shot.”

Avalon nodded vigorously, hanging onto every word. Harris Ferguson had always been a gifted storyteller—maybe he exaggerated the trivial details, but that was what made his stories so captivating. Those little white lies that softened the truth, made it easier to swallow.

But I was a terrible liar.

I hate shots. I always cry like a baby. I hate getting my blood drawn too. Anything involving needles going into my skin, unless it’s for a piercing or a tattoo, makes me want to vomit. And sob.

I spent the entire ride to Opal Springs trying to convince myself I would not throw up or cry in front of Clarke. Something told me that would do nothing to help my attempts to get her to forgive me and write an album together.

“Oh, look at Avalon Kennedy, she can’t even get a tetanus shot without snotty-nose crying.”

A shiver ran down my spine as Dr. Harris led me toward the small office. His hand rested lightly on my back, trying to put me at ease. He was still telling me about the McGafferty boys and their frequent trips to his office.

A smile crossed his face, and I felt his eyes on me. Blinking several times, I forced myself to focus on his story, confusion clouding my brain.

“All done.”

Dr. Harris smoothed a standard Band-Aid over my shoulder and stood.

“You took that shot like a champ.”

I looked down at the spot just below my shoulder. “I didn’t even feel it,” I murmured. Lifting my head, I met his gaze with a matching smile.

“I think it was all the talking. Usually I’m terrified of needles.”

He shrugged and tossed the trash into the small bin in the corner. “I don’t think they’d keep me around if I talked any less.”

He paused, stripping off his gloves. “But I saw your face. You weren’t really listening, were you?”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. Was I really that easy to read? Was I really that distracted?

“I’m sorry,” I said, bowing my head and staring at my hands. “I’m new here and—and I’m trying to find my footing, but…” My voice trailed off. “It’s hard.”

Dr. Harris nodded quietly and settled onto the space beside me. “Tell me about it, kid. It’ll be my turn to listen.” He nudged my shoulder. “I promise to pay attention.”

My face burned again, but beneath the embarrassment, I felt… comfortable. I rarely found the presence of a human man comforting, but something about Dr. Harris made me want to talk.

“I’m trying to make amends with someone,” I said. “Someone who seems hell-bent on not forgiving me. I don’t even think what I did was that bad, but they refuse to accept my apologies so we can move forward.”

Silence stretched for several moments. I wondered if he’d lied about paying attention—but then his low voice cut through my thoughts.