Sand Castle Bay. Sherryl Woods
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when it’s crowded like this.”
“I will,” Emily blurted impulsively before she could stop herself. “If that’s okay with you, that is. Between Grandmother, Gabi, Samantha and me, he’ll be fine. And he can always hang out in the kitchen. Jerry loves having him around. Besides, don’t you have your hands full over at your place? I heard about the damage you found.”
“I do, but—”
B.J. bounced up and down. “Please, Dad.”
“Sorry, pal. I made arrangements for you to spend the afternoon with Alex. His mom said you could have a sleepover tonight, too.”
“I’d rather stay here,” B.J. pleaded.
“We’re only open until three, anyway,” Emily reminded Boone. “Then we’ll be cleaning some more. We can keep him busy with that. Then one of us can drop him off at your restaurant or the house later.”
She wondered if the real issue was Boone wanting him out from underfoot because he had a date tonight. For all she knew, he was involved with someone. “Or if you have plans for tonight, he can stay over at our house,” she suggested mildly.
“No plans,” Boone said, an oddly tense note in his voice. “Usually he loves having a sleepover at Alex’s house because they have all the game systems I won’t let him have at home.”
“But today I want to stay here and help,” B.J. repeated emphatically.
“Okay, fine,” Boone agreed with unmistakable reluctance. “Let me speak to Cora Jane.”
“No need,” Emily said. “I’ll let her know.”
“Then I’ll pick him up at your place tonight around seven-thirty. Will that work? That way if I get held up at the restaurant, he won’t have to hang around there.”
“Absolutely. Knowing you’re coming by will be the perfect excuse to get Grandmother out of here at a decent hour.”
“Then I guess it works out well all around,” he said, a wry note in his voice. He hunkered down in front of his son and held his gaze. “You do as you’re told and don’t give Emily or Ms. Cora Jane any trouble.”
“Promise,” B.J. said, and scampered quickly away as if he feared his father might change his mind.
Boone studied Emily with a narrowed gaze. “I’m not entirely happy about this.”
“So I gathered. Mind telling me why?”
“I told you the other day. I’m scared to death you’ll disappoint him when you leave.”
His candor wasn’t a total shock, but his lack of faith in her hurt more than she’d expected it to. “Boone, he’s a wonderful boy. I won’t let him down. I promise.”
His gaze locked with hers. “I’m holding you to that, Em. That boy is the most precious thing I have in my life. He’s been through enough.”
“And so have you,” she said, understanding the pain they’d both suffered. “I get it, Boone.”
He hesitated, holding her gaze, then nodded. “I’ll see you later, then.”
She swallowed hard as he turned and walked away. “Later,” she whispered, wondering if she hadn’t just made a huge mistake by making a promise she’d never be able to keep, no matter how good her intentions were. After all, what did she really know about protecting a little boy’s heart?
* * *
It was about six-thirty, and Boone was wrapping things up for the day, preparing to head over to Cora Jane’s house to pick up B.J., when his cell phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID but didn’t recognize the area code or number.
“Boone, it’s Emily,” she said when he answered.
The shakiness in her voice put him immediately on full alert. “What’s wrong? Has something happened to B.J.?”
“He fell in the parking lot and cut himself on a nail sticking out of a board,” she blurted as if she had to get the words out in a hurry. She drew in a deep breath, then added, “It’s a pretty deep gash, but he’s fine. I swear, Boone, he really is fine. He’s handling it like a real trouper.”
“Where are you?” he asked, trying to temper panic and the need to lash out. He’d known leaving B.J. behind today was foolish. What had he been thinking?
“We’re at Ethan Cole’s Emergency Clinic,” Emily told him. “Grandmother called Ethan and he met us here. B.J. needs stitches and probably a tetanus shot, unless he’s already up-to-date on that. That’s really why I’m calling. Ethan doesn’t want to give him the shot if he doesn’t need it.”
“Let me speak to Ethan,” Boone demanded, needing not only the insights of an expert, but his reassurance.
“Of course,” Emily agreed at once.
“Hey, Boone,” Ethan said, sounding calm and completely unruffled, exactly the demeanor one wanted from an emergency physician. “B.J.’s going to be just fine. Hasn’t shed a tear. In fact, he’s excited about having a scar. I’m numbing the area right now so I can do those stitches. He’ll be good as new in a couple of weeks.”
“Swear to me he’s okay.”
“He’s okay,” Ethan said. “Emily had the bleeding stopped by the time they got here. She really kept her wits about her and kept B.J. calm in the process.”
“What the hell was he doing running around in the parking lot, anyway? And where’d that board come from? I cleaned the parking lot of debris myself.”
“You’re asking the wrong person,” Ethan said. “But, if you’re looking for speculation, seems to me it could have washed into the road overnight on high tide and somebody tossed it into the parking lot. Does that really matter?”
Boone sighed. “I suppose not. I knew I shouldn’t have left him over at Castle’s today. Emily was supposed to be keeping an eye on him.”
“Sounds to me as if she and Cora Jane were both right there when he tripped and fell. It was an accident, Boone. Things like this happen, especially to little boys who don’t think about the dangers that might be underfoot after a storm.”
“But I warned him,” Boone said in frustration.
Ethan chuckled. “Do you not recall that eight-year-old kids have the attention span of a gnat? I can’t tell you how many people I’ve patched up this week from incidents just like this one. Where does B.J. stand on his tetanus shots?”
“He’s up-to-date,” Boone said.
“Then it’s all good. I’ll have him out of here in a half hour.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Why don’t you just meet them at Cora Jane’s as planned?” Ethan suggested. “It’ll give that temper of yours time to cool down. I know you’re looking to place blame, but I’m telling you it’s an accident that could have happened to anyone. Don’t make Emily the scapegoat. If you do, you’ll just make Cora Jane feel guilty, too, and she’s shaken enough.”
Boone sighed. “You’re probably right.” He hesitated, then asked, “How are your sewing skills? He’s not going to look as if he was sewn up by a butcher, is he?”
Ethan laughed. “You do recall that not that long ago I was stitching up soldiers on the battlefield in Afghanistan, right? The United States Army trusted me to know what I was doing. The scar will be real pretty, I promise.”
Boone finally managed a chuckle. “Okay, okay, I get it. I’m overreacting. Thanks, Ethan.”
“Any time, pal. See you soon. I’ll want to see B.J. to remove the stitches in a couple of weeks. Just stop by during office hours or if that doesn’t work, give me a call and I’ll