The Choice by Nicholas Sparks Page A

moment later, he was just about to knock when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps and the door swung open. Gabby straightened, surprised to see him.
    “Oh, hey . . . ,” she said, letting go of the door. “I was just thinking that I should call you.”
    Though barefoot, she was dressed in slacks and an off-white blouse, her hair fastened loosely by an ivory clip. He noted again how attractive she was, but today it struck him that her appeal lay more in an unfeigned openness than conventional good looks.
    She just seemed so . . . real. “Since I was on my way home, I thought I’d let you know in person. Molly’s doing fine.”
    “You’re sure?”
    He nodded. “I did an X-ray, and I didn’t see any indication of internal bleeding. Once she got some fluids in, she seemed to get her strength back. She could probably come home later today, but I’d like to keep her one more night, just to be safe. Actually, my dad will watch her for a while. I was up most of the night, so I’m going to bed, but I’ll check on her myself later.”
    “Can I see her?”
    “Sure,” he said. “You can see her anytime. Just remember that she might still be a little doped up, though, since I had to administer some sedatives so she’d be calm for the X-ray and to help with the pain.” He paused. “The puppies are doing well, too, by the way. They’re cute as bugs.”
    She smiled, liking the gentle twang of his accent, surprised that she hadn’t noticed it before. “I just want to thank you again,” she said. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”
    He waved it off. “I was glad to help.” He held out the newspaper. “Which reminds me, I grabbed this for you, too.”
    “Thanks,” she said, taking it.
    For an awkward beat, they faced each other silently.
    “Would you like a cup of coffee?” she offered. “I just brewed a pot.”
    She felt a mixture of relief and disappointment when he shook his head.
    “No thanks. I’d rather not be awake when I’m trying to sleep.”
    She laughed. “Funny.”
    “I try,” he said, and for an instant she pictured him leaning against a bar and offering the same response to an attractive woman, which left her with the vague feeling that he was flirting with her.
    “But listen,” he went on, “I know you’re probably getting ready for work and I’m bushed, so I’m going home to crash for a while.” He turned to step off the porch.
    Despite herself, Gabby crossed the threshold and called to him as he reached the yard. “Before you go, could you tell me what time you think you’ll be at the clinic? To check on Molly, I mean?”
    “I’m not sure. I guess it depends on how long I sleep.”
    “Oh . . . okay,” she said, feeling foolish and wishing she hadn’t asked.
    “But how about this,” he went on. “You tell me what time you take lunch, and I’ll meet you at the clinic.”
    “I didn’t mean—”
    “What time?”
    She swallowed. “A quarter to one?”
    “I’ll be there,” he promised. He took a couple of steps backward. “And by the way, you look fantastic in that outfit,” he added.
    What on earth just happened?
    That pretty much summed up Gabby’s mental state for the rest of the morning. It didn’t matter whether she was doing a well-baby check (twice), diagnosing ear infections (four times), giving a vaccination (once), or recommending an X-ray (once); she felt herself operating on autopilot, only half-present, while another part was still back on the porch, wondering if Travis had actually been flirting with her and whether maybe, just maybe, she’d sort of liked it.
    She wished for the umpteenth time that she had a friend in town to talk to about all this. There was nothing like having a close girlfriend to confide in, and though there were nurses in the office, her status as a physician assistant seemed to set her apart. Frequently, she’d hear the nurses talking and laughing, but they tended to get quiet as soon as she approached. Which