Free Huckleberry Hearts by Jennifer Beckstrand

was right, but it didn’t make him feel any better. “What did the doctor say? How bad a break is it?”
    â€œI don’t know. Eight weeks in a cast. It’s not a very convenient time. I have to finish the decorations for the auxiliary bazaar.”
    â€œMaybe you could turn it over to someone else.”
    â€œI’m not too bad with one hand. I don’t want you to worry. I debated about telling you at all, but I figured someone would post it on Facebook eventually, and you’d be mad that I kept it a secret.”
    â€œI wish I could help from two thousand miles away.”
    â€œI know, but I can’t imagine you’d be very good at tissue paper roses,” Mom said. “Paper roses made by me with one hand will probably still look better than paper roses made by you.”
    â€œYou’re probably right.”
    â€œI could use a few prayers,” Mom said, almost as an afterthought. She didn’t often bring up religion with Zach, but this was an emergency. She thought prayers helped.
    â€œIf it will make you feel better, Mom, I’ll send a prayer up tonight.”
    â€œIt will.” She paused, as if letting the idea of prayer soak in a little. “You can do something else.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œFind someone in Shawano who needs you. If you do something nice for someone else, the good karma is bound to get back to me.”
    Zach chuckled. “One minute you’re a Christian, the next you’re a Buddhist.”
    â€œChristians believe in karma. ‘Cast your bread upon the waters and you shall find it after many days.’”
    â€œOkay, Mom. I know better than to get into a Bible discussion with you.”
    â€œGet some sleep, Zach, and find a restaurant that will serve you a few vegetables.”
    â€œThis ramen contains parsley flakes.”
    â€œGood night, son.”
    â€œLove you, Mom.” When he finished his residency, he’d find a practice close to home so he could look out for his mom. He’d see to it that she never had to climb a ladder again.
    He’d lost his appetite. He slowly picked the hot dogs out of the noodles and popped them into his mouth. The grocery store was still open. Maybe he should go buy a head of lettuce or something. He imagined himself eating a whole head of lettuce like an apple. That had to be three or four servings of vegetables right there.
    His phone vibrated again.
    â€œHello, Dr. Reynolds? This is Patti Gordon from the answering service. You know that Amish woman you did surgery on today?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWell, I think she called me. She told me her name was Anna and that she really needed to talk to you. I told her I’d have you call her, but she said she really needed you to come to her house.”
    Zach thought of Anna’s granddaughter and smoothed his hair with his fingers. “Did she say what was wrong?”
    â€œNo. I told her if she had an emergency to go to the hospital, but she hung up the phone. I tried calling back, but no one answered.”
    â€œThanks, Patti. I’ll see if I can reach her.”
    Even though he had it memorized, Zach opened the address book on his phone and scrolled to the forbidden number. He stared at it, picturing the blonde angel with the red scarf. Would she be mad if he called?
    Blonde angel or no blonde angel, Anna wouldn’t have tried to contact him unless something was wrong, and his first concern had to be for his patient. Anna had come through surgery well, but she was eighty-four years old. Age was always a risk factor, no matter how routine the surgery.
    His fingers shook, actually shook, as he highlighted Cassie’s number and pressed the screen to connect. He cleared his throat. It wouldn’t do anything for Cassie’s confidence in him as a doctor if he sounded like a lovesick teenager.
    The phone rang and rang. And rang. What? Cassie didn’t even have voice mail? He hung up and