The afternoon sun sat warm on her back as Dr. Lydia Nichols stood on the sidewalk in front of the Aspen Cove pharmacy. She prayed for lightning to strike from a cloudless sky, an avalanche to trigger from a snowless peak, a myocardial infarction to seize her healthy heart and end her misery. Making sense of her life was like trying to eat steak with a straw.

Nothing arrived but a bee that sent her dashing down the street. The only thing likely to grant her death wish. How had her life gone from gold to lead in such a short period of time?

Out of breath and back in front of the pharmacy where the window sign flashed off and on with the red neon words The Doctor is In, she stared at her reflection. The smiley face pin on her navy blue scrubs reminded her she had once been happy.

She pulled back her shoulders and prepared to leave purgatory and enter hell. 

Her mother always said there were three certainties in life.

Death.

Taxes.

Change.

She’d dealt with her share of death. Had paid enough taxes to pave the great state of Colorado. Now she was dealing with change. A change destined to kill her dreams.

At thirty-two, she never expected to be in this position. Four years of college, four years of medical school, and a three-year residency had prepared her to be more than a country doctor, but a relationship gone bad with the head of emergency medicine at Denver General created change—change that came in the way of no job, no boyfriend, and no prospects for either.

“You’re here.” Sage rushed out the door and threw her arms around Lydia’s neck.

“I’m here,” she said with the enthusiasm of someone getting a root canal.

“Why you wanted to show up and get straight to work, I have no idea. You should have taken a day or two to acclimate.”

Her little sister had taken to Aspen Cove like a fish to water. Sage’s life had come crashing down a year ago, but like the sun, she rose again. Lydia’s lunar eclipse hadn’t moved far enough to let even the tiniest fragments of light peek through the darkness.

“I’m not staying.”

“But you’re here for now, and I’m glad. Doc Parker will be glad too.”

She followed her sister into the small pharmacy. Calling it such was generous since it had nothing but over-the-counter meds or what the resident doctor finagled out of pharmaceutical representatives.

“How’s he doing?” Poor Doc Parker's health had been compromised during a recent fire. Although Lydia didn’t believe in fate, she couldn’t help but wonder if something larger was at work in the universe. Doc Parker’s need for temporary help came at the time Lydia needed a job.

“He’s still on oxygen, but his surly disposition is back so he’s on the mend.”

They weaved through the cold and flu aisle toward a door that led to the one and only examination room in the small clinic.

Folding chairs lined the wall. Three out of eight had waiting patients. Having visited her sister, she recognized the first in line as Louise Williams who was pregnant with her eighth child.

Lydia nodded as she passed and entered the exam room. The antiseptic smell was comforting. At least it was familiar.

“It’s a busier day than usual. Word got out you were coming to town, the books filled up for both clinic days. People are happy they don’t have to drive the hour to Copper Creek.”

Lydia peeked out the door. “This is busy?” Used to a city emergency room where no less than a dozen patients waited at any given time, a handful of patients were nothing. In Denver, people were seen by the severity of their needs as opposed to a blocked set of minutes. Payment came in dollars, not firewood and casseroles.

“It’s busy for Aspen Cove. The only busier day I remember was when the Williams family were here for vaccinations.”

Lydia checked her pocket for a pen. She unrolled her stethoscope and hung it around her neck and pasted on a smile as fake as her yellow pin.

“Shall we begin?” She looked around the small room and wished she could reach the two hundred miles to Denver and choke Dr. Adam McKay. This situation was his fault.

She glanced over Louise’s chart while Sage stepped out to get their first patient. Eight babies in nine years must be a record.

“Dr. Nichols,” Louise rushed inside, “I’m so glad you could come to Aspen Cove. We could use some new blood here and a female to boot. We hit the lottery.” She stepped on the footstool and situated herself on the exam table like a pro. Then again she was a pro.

“I’m not staying. This is temporary.” She hoped she didn’t have to remind each patient she was a fill-in while Doc Parker recovered.

“That’s what everyone says and they stay.” Louise looked at Sage. “Sage once said it was a dream of hers for you two to work together. Looks like dreams come true.”

While Lydia examined Louise, her internal mantra repeated, this isn’t my dream, this isn’t my dream, this isn’t my dream.

Fifteen minutes later, her second patient walked in. Not walked as much as shuffled. Lydia reviewed his chart. “Mr. Bradley, I’m Dr. Nichols, what brings you in today?”

“Tilden brought me in. Good lad. Good driver. Single. You single?” The old man took five minutes to go from the door to the chair. He looked at the exam table and shook his head. “Not climbing up there, that’s like climbing a mountain.” He plopped into the plastic chair in the corner. The metal legs creaked under the weight of his three hundred pound body. “I’ll stick to the lowlands. What about Tilden?”

“While I appreciate the attempted hookup, I’m not looking for a man.” Lydia tilted her head and gave Sage a what-the-hell look.

She wasn’t in the market. She was happily single. Not happily, but single. After Adam, she’d given up men forever—or at least for now. It would take one heck of an amazing man to earn her trust. Men were like Bluetooth. They connected to you when you were nearby, but searched for other devices when you were away.

Sage moved forward to take the old man’s vitals. “Ray here is our resident flirt. He’s sweet on the ladies and has been known to empty a flower garden if he likes you.”

Lydia walked to the man in soiled jeans and a flannel shirt. He was straight off a mountain man poster—a cross between a geriatric Brawny model and bear.

“I’ll never hear the end of stealing Bea’s flowers.”

“No flowers necessary, Mr. Bradley.” Lydia said. “What health problem brings you in today?” She skimmed through his file. For being a big man, Mr. Bradley didn’t have many problems. His last check up was six months ago and all was right in his world.

“I’m tired all the time.” He threaded his fingers through his ZZ Top beard.

“Other than being tired, do you have any other complaints?”

Sage checked his pulse and prepared to take his blood pressure with a wrist cuff.

“Ain’t that enough? I fell asleep at seven o’clock last night and missed my show.”

“Ray is a huge fan of 60 Minutes,” Sage said as she took down Ray’s vitals.

A huff of air separated his beard to show thin chapped lips. “I feel cheated because I only got about three minutes before I dozed off.”

Lydia looked thumbed through his record for a history of fatigue but found nothing. “Says here tomorrow is your birthday. You’ll be sixty-eight.”

“Well hell, no wonder I’m tired.” Ray rocked back and forth then pushed to his feet and shuffled to the door. “Thanks, Doc.” He moved out and down the hallway to disappear into the pharmacy.

Lydia shook her head. “That didn’t happen, did it?”

Sage laughed. “You’ll get used to it. Ray probably needed attention. Few women his age live here in Aspen Cove. He had to check out the new doctor in town.”

“Should I be afraid?”

“Only if you wake up to find hundreds of flowers on your doorstep. It won’t be Ray you have to worry about but the owner of the garden he plundered.”

Sage wiped down the counters with disinfectant even though they hadn’t been touched. She was a qualified nurse, but Lydia couldn’t understand how working at a tiny clinic fulfilled her dreams. Then again, Sage had a sexy fiancé to ease the rough edges of small-town life. Lydia wanted more. She wanted a prominent job in a large hospital, a hefty paycheck to ease the burden of student loans and a man she could trust. Finding a unicorn would be easier than reaching her goals.

She marked Ray’s file with a note and placed it into the out-box on the counter. “Who’s next?” She went to the sink to wash her hands and get fresh gloves.

“That would be Bailey, she’s got something stuck up her nose.”

Weeks ago, Lydia triaged car accident victims and removed bullets from gangbangers. Today she was reminding people of their birthdays, examining a woman who had delivered more babies than she had, and her next patient was a kid who most likely shoved a bean up her nose.

She opened several drawers before she found a pair of sterilized forceps.

Moments later, little Bailey Brown bounced into the office with her pigtails swinging from side to side. She hopped up onto the exam table. Her mother stood next to her like a sentry.

Lydia lowered to a squat and came eye-to-eye with the little freckle-faced girl who had a heart-warming smile.

She saw lots of children in the emergency room. This wouldn’t be her first foreign object removal from an unusual orifice. It never seized to amaze her what people stuck and where.

“Hi, Bailey. I’m Doctor Nichols. Can you tell me what you put up your nose?” According to Bailey’s chart, she was four years old and a regular at the clinic.

She looked behind to her mother. “No.”

“No you can’t, or, no you won’t?” Lydia asked.

She glanced back to her mother and reaffirmed her position. “No.”

Sage passed Lydia the Otoscope.

“Okay then.” She showed the child the instrument. “I’m going to use this little flashlight to take a peek. Can you look up for me?”

There was moment when Lydia thought Bailey would refuse. Arms crossed in front of her chest and a frown as large as a rainbow, she didn’t move at first. Seeing she was outnumbered three adults to one the little girl tilted her head and released a sigh of resignation.

Lydia peeked inside the tiny upturned nose. “What’s your favorite, Skittles or M&Ms?”

“Skittles,” she answered with enthusiasm. “I like to save the yellow ones for last.”

As the last word finished, Lydia tweezed out a sticky yellow Skittle. She put it into your gloved hand and held it out for everyone to see.

“Bailey,” her mom scolded, “I told you you’d had enough and to put them away for another time.”

Lydia turned to Mrs. Brown. “She did.” She stared back to Bailey. “These are better in your mouth than in your nose.”

Bailey smiled, plucked the yellow Skittle from Lydia’s hand then popped it inside her mouth. All jaws dropped open except for Bailey who happily devoured her treat.

When she swallowed, she opened her mouth like a hungry bird.

Sage patted her little head. “No Lifesavers today, sweetie. That’s Doctor Parker’s thing. I’m sure Doctor Nichols will come up with something all her own for your next visit.”

The disappointment on Bailey’s face was palpable. She’d just had her nose plucked, and all she got was what she’d stored inside. Lydia took the child’s hand and drew a smiley face on the top. Bailey grinned.

Mrs. Brown sucked in a breath and said, “We don’t write on our hands, Doctor Nichols, it’s a bad habit to start.”

Lydia wanted to throw back something about eating nose Skittles being worse, but she refrained. When Memorial Hospital called and said they wanted her on staff, sticky yellow candies would be the farthest thing from her mind.

Going through three rounds of interviews gave her hope that an employment offer was forthcoming. Hell, she might be out of here before the ink faded from Bailey Brown’s hand.

Sage showed them out while Lydia took a visual inventory of the clinic. It was well stocked with simple things for common occurrences like colds, cuts, and bruises. Standard equipment like oxygen tanks, IV supplies, and a sterilizer were present.

Nowhere did she see anything modern like an X-ray machine, electronic monitors, or an ultrasound.

Sage returned, pulled the paper off the table, and prepped it for the next patient.

“How can you work here?” Lydia turned in a circle and took in the lack of everything.

“What do you mean? It’s great. When was the last time you got to know the people? At Denver General, people are a number on a chart.”

“This is like working out of a field tent. I didn’t sign up for Doctor’s Without Borders.”

Lydia found herself in a classic Sage Nichols hug. One she had to bear until it was over because Sage had a super glue grip.

“It’s different. Not bad. We get cool cases like when Zachariah Tucker's moonshine still blew up.”

Lydia let out a groan. “I never imagined my life being like this. I’m not moonshine. I’m a martini girl. I was headed for great things.”

Sage stepped back. “You’re still headed for great things and the Cannon can make a killer lemon drop martini.” She rolled out fresh paper to cover the table. “Remember when Mom said, there were three things you couldn’t escape?”

“Death, taxes, and change. I remember.”

“This is change, and change isn’t always bad. I recall a year ago you told me to come here and see what Aspen Cove offered. In fact, you likened me to Matthew McConaughey in Failure to Launch. You were right. I launched, and I found my bliss. Give it a chance.”

In the distance, the bell above the door rang and Sage went to investigate.

She was back in seconds leading a man to the cold examination table. He cradled his bloody right hand to his chest. The gray, blood-soaked T-shirt stuck to his skin, outlining muscles honed from steel. More patients like this and Lydia would have to reconsider her man ban.