Healing His Widowed Heart. Annie Hemby

want the best for him.”

      Meaning that she was not the best.

      She rolled her lips together and held her tongue, turning to Trevor. “Is that okay with you?”

      The teen shrugged. “Mr. Mason is overprotective. He acts like my father sometimes.”

      She forced a smile, trying not to take Mason’s behavior personally. “Nothing wrong with that. I’ll just go see if Dr. Marcus can take a quick look.” She gestured for him to take a seat in her examining room again. Mason followed behind him.

      He was right. She was a new doctor, not skilled enough to complete brain surgery. But she’d known how to treat a sprain since she was in the Girl Scouts.

      “Dr. Marcus?” she called, poking her head into her mentor’s office.

      He turned and offered a quick smile. “Everything okay?” he asked. “I saw Mason come in.”

      She nodded. “And he wants a second opinion on my patient.” She blew out a breath. “Would you mind?”

      Dr. Marcus stood and patted her shoulder. “I’m sure you did a great job, but if it eases Mason’s mind, I’ll take a look. He tends to hover over the kids from the Teen Center. That place means a lot to him.”

      She watched Dr. Marcus head toward the examining room that she’d just left, staying back and deciding to keep her distance right now because she didn’t enjoy being doubted. And also because Mason made her nervous for more reasons than his scrutinizing gaze. He was handsome and she admired the fact that he wanted to look after the teens that he volunteered with. He was one of the good guys, even if he didn’t trust that she was any good at the moment.

      * * *

      Mason glanced around as he walked out of the examining room with Trevor at his side. Lexie was nowhere to be seen, probably off treating another patient, he guessed. Good. He was a little embarrassed by the fact that Dr. Marcus had given Trevor the same diagnosis and medical advice that she had.

      “No shooting hoops for you for at least a week. Your arm needs some R & R,” Dr. Marcus said, following them out of the tiny room.

      Trevor shrugged and mumbled an inaudible agreement.

      “Trevor.” Mason bumped him gently.

      With a sigh, Trevor met Dr. Marcus’s eyes. “Yes, sir,” he said. “No shooting hoops for a week. Got it.”

      “And?” Mason urged.

      Trevor grinned. “Thank you, Dr. Marcus. And that other doctor lady, too.”

      Dr. Marcus laughed. “You’re very welcome, Trevor. Anytime.”

      Mason was as proud of his teaching the kids at the Teen Center as he was of putting out fires and helping kittens out of trees. “I’ll take you home,” he said, his gaze falling on the rectangular bulge in Trevor’s front pocket. “And we’ll talk on the way there.”

      “Hey, Mason,” Dr. Marcus called as they started to leave. “The clinic’s open house is next weekend. I was hoping you’d help.”

      “Help?” Mason turned back to look at the older doctor.

      “Well, I know you’re trying to raise money for the Teen Center. You could set up something outside to raise money for your group and to draw people in for us. It would help with the clinic’s outreach efforts, as well.”

      Mason considered this. It wasn’t the clinic that he had a problem with. Dr. Marcus was a great doctor and he’d told Mason just now in light conversation that other experienced doctors from Carolina Medical would be volunteering their time here, too, in the coming weeks. It was really just the inexperienced physicians that Mason didn’t trust. Mason glanced around the room for Lexie, not seeing her. “I wanted to talk to you in more depth about those outreach efforts.”

      Dr. Marcus frowned. “Dr. Campbell is a fine doctor. And she’s here in part to be mentored by me. She’s not going to do anything to intentionally harm anyone.”

      Mason nodded. “She’s been great with the teens this week.” Not that he was happy about having one of them in her examining room. “If the wildfire is out by that point, I could spare some time for the open house. I’m sure a few of the other guys could, too.”

      Dr. Marcus clapped another hand along his back and gestured to one of the patients in the waiting room. “Great. I’ve got to get back to work. Good seeing you, Mason. Trevor. I’ll see you Sunday at church.”

      Mason nodded. Then he led the boy to his truck and headed down the road, already knowing where Trevor lived. Mason had been to the run-down house a few miles away a couple times to fix a broken heater and a leak in the roof. Mason also knew that Trevor’s mother wouldn’t be home right now. She was working tonight, either at the gas station down the street or at her second job caring for one of the elderly members of the church they both attended. She was a well-intentioned mother who had little time to invest in her son, at least if she wanted to keep him fed and clothed. What time she did invest, however, appeared to be quality time.

      “So, tell me what really happened.” Mason glanced over at Trevor in the passenger seat of his truck.

      “What’re you talking about?” the teen asked.

      “If you got that sprain on a skateboard, where’s your skateboard?”

      Trevor stiffened and his gaze averted out the passenger-side window.

      That was what Mason thought. “We’ve talked about this. Fighting doesn’t resolve things.”

      Trevor glanced back, but he didn’t say anything, which told Mason he was on to something.

      “And neither does smoking.” Mason tipped his head at Trevor’s front pocket.

      “You sound like that woman doctor you treated so bad back there.”

      Mason stiffened now. “What are you talking about?”

      “She was nice. Is it because she’s a girl?” Trevor asked.

      “I don’t have a problem with girls being doctors. You know that. Besides, Dr. Campbell is a woman, not a girl.”

      “A pretty one. Is that why you don’t like her? ’Cause she’s pretty?” Trevor was smiling now. The kid was too smart. Somehow in the first two minutes of their “talk,” he’d flipped the cards and was trying to shine the spotlight on Mason.

      Mason frowned. “I know what you’re doing, and it won’t work. You’re trying to make me forget about lecturing you on those cigarettes and fighting. You know better than that. How’re you going to play pro basketball if you’re carrying around an oxygen tank?”

      Trevor crossed his arms at his chest, then winced at the pain in his bandaged wrist. He leaned forward, looking at the surroundings outside the window. “I thought you said you were taking me home. This isn’t the way to my home.”

      “I called your mom on the way to the health care clinic. Told her you’d be going to the Teen Center with me tonight if you checked out all right. And then Mr. Dave would be taking you home afterward. She agreed.”

      From the corner of his eye, Mason could see Trevor trying not to smile. He liked the Teen Center. “Fine. You got ice there? Both of those doctors said to rest and ice my arm. Means you shouldn’t make me clean up when we’re done, either.”

      Mason laughed. “Talk to Mr. Dave about that. I’m not staying. Not tonight.” He had something else he needed to do. Something that was suddenly weighing on him like a ton of bricks. He wasn’t a mean guy. The fact that Trevor had accused him of treating Lexie badly had convicted him just now. Lexie was just trying to help, which he admired about her—even if she was young and inexperienced, and he absolutely did not want her providing medical treatment for the people in his life.

      * * *

      Lexie