When Tina thought it was safe to do so without being overheard, she asked, “I wanted to ask ... do you happen to have any of your grandmother’s old recipes?”
“All of them,” Maggie said with a chuckle. “Did you have something particular in mind?”
Tina glanced behind them, finding the men engrossed in a discussion of their own. “A couple of things actually, but the one I’m most interested in is for joint pain.”
Maggie’s eyes softened. “I wondered if you still had issues with that. Does Doc know?”
“No. No one does, outside of immediate family.”
“It must be incredibly hard to keep something like that a secret.”
“Not as hard as you might think,” Tina said.
She’d gotten quite good at hiding it over the years. Not having close friends or a social life made it easier. Even her brothers assumed she’d “grown out of it” or at least it had lessened in severity. But Doc ... it was much harder, keeping it from him.
“He loves you, you know,” Maggie said suddenly.
Tina stopped abruptly, her heart hammering in her chest. “Why would you say that?”
Maggie stopped, too. When Tina looked at her eyes, they seemed to be swirling, just like Maggie’s grandmother’s used to. Some people said she was a white witch; others simply said she was gifted healer. Tina’s visits to the Flynn farm had ceased when those rumors reached her father’s ears.
“Trust me, I can tell,” Maggie said. “He’s the one for you, and you, for him.”
“He’s a good man,” Tina said carefully.
Maggie looked back at the guys, then looped her arm through Tina’s, and gently urged her forward. “Do you know what a croie is?”
When Tina shook her head, Maggie explained, “Think of it as a soul mate. Michael is mine. I think Doc is yours.”
Tina didn’t know what to say to that, but Maggie wasn’t finished. “Let me ask you this. Does he seem protective of you? Do things for you for no apparent reason?”
“He showed up at my doorstep and took care of me when I had the flu. And he gives these amazing massages ...” Tina paused. Was it possible? Could Doc actually feel as strongly about her as she did about him?
“And you,” Maggie continued, the swirls in her eyes moving faster now, “do you think about him all the time? Feel different when you’re with him?”
Those questions were easily answered. Tina nodded.
“There you go. Croies.”
Tina wanted to believe her. She really did. But things were complicated, and Tina didn’t trust her own feelings. She said as much to Maggie.
Rather than be deterred, however, Maggie nodded emphatically. “Exactly! It’s no accident that Doc came into your life at this particular time. You’re meant to be together.”
Maggie was so earnest. But as wonderful as that sounded, she was too much of a realist to start believing in fairy-tale endings. She and Doc were still in the early phases of their relationship, and there was the potential to be so much more, but she wasn’t going to jinx it by making assumptions that could end up breaking her heart.
“You’ll see,” Maggie said with confidence. “But to answer your earlier question, I’ve continued my grandmother’s practice. I can make whatever you need.”
“But you said your husband is a doctor.”
“He is. A brilliant one.”
“How does he feel about your homeopathic remedies?” Tina asked, managing to stop herself before she used some of her father’s more derogatory names for the teas, balms, and poultices.
“He’s come to terms with it. I’ve accepted that modern medicine can be beneficial in certain instances, and he’s accepted that natural alternatives can be effective. I can give you some tea today that I think will help, but the poultices will take a little more time to pull together.”
“There’s no hurry. I can come back another day—as long as you don’t mind.”
Maggie’s eyes were doing that swirling thing again. “No, I don’t mind. I really enjoyed our visit today, and something tells me we’re going to be seeing a lot more of each other in the near future.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Doc
“Too easy,” Doc muttered, admiring Yaz’s skill in setting up his next shot. Even Doc could sink it in with his eyes closed.
Yaz canted his head, scanned the table, and then called off a tricky double bank.
“Not a chance.”
Yaz grinned. “Five bucks?”
It was worth it. “Sure.”
Yaz leaned over the bumper, lined up his stick, and hit the cue ball with precision and the perfect amount of English. Doc watched in amazement as the