One Day in Apple Grove
C. H. Admirand
Chapter 1
Dr. Jack Gannon closed the door to his office, looked down Main Street, and smiled. Spring in his hometown meant green and growing—nothing like the Middle East desert peppered with hiding places where insurgents had lain in wait. He shoved those thoughts, and his years as a navy corpsman, back into the tiny box he’d visualized so many times while lying helpless in that hospital bed.
After all the stories he’d heard from this father, Jack had been the first one in the navy recruiter’s line all those years ago. But none of the places he’d traveled as a hospital corpsman held a candle to the town he called home—Apple Grove.
A soft breeze caressed his face, a loving touch and gentle reminder that he had so much to be grateful for. The marine he’d been struggling to save when they’d been hit filled his mind. Struggling to bury the memory, and the guilt, deep, he focused on one of the lessons he’d learned early in life: There is a time and purpose for everything. He remembered floundering when he’d woken up strapped to a gurney as he was rushed into surgery. A year and a half later, he’d been able to stand, to walk and was alive—applying his experience in the navy toward college credits and then med school—he had a life…choices…unlike the marine he’d tried to save but couldn’t.
Growing up in a town where farming was a way of life for most, he’d come to appreciate that spring was the season for growth. Sinking his shriveled roots back into the warm, rich, life-giving soil of his hometown just might satisfy his need for personal growth. No one in town knew the depth of his pain or the extent of his injuries. To them, he was simply old Doc Gannon’s son coming home to pick up where his father left off, taking care of the people in this tight-knit community. If he could continue to keep a lid on the roiling pot of guilt, pain, and uncertainty, no one would ever have to know the truth—that he should have been the one to die.
The wind shifted, clearing his head of the thoughts haunting him. He caught the fleeting, teasing scent of fresh-baked pies wafting toward him from the open door of the Apple Grove Diner. Glad to redirect his thoughts, he wondered if the diner was still gossip central. It had been for as far back as he could remember—the latest news, good and bad, served up with a man-sized slice of pie, a hot cup of coffee, and a smile. “God, I really missed this place.”
As a teenager, he couldn’t wait to leave; now he took the time to admire Miss Trudi’s flowers, a riot of color circling the gazebo in the town square, the focal point of countless Founder’s Day Picnic speeches. One of Apple Grove’s more outspoken octogenarians, Miss Trudi was a marvel. How she managed to do so much at her age amazed him. He’d have to stop by and check up on her this afternoon…without letting her know what he was up to, or else she’d never let him hear the end of it. A more capable woman over the age of eighty simply didn’t exist.
The breeze rustled the broad green leaves of the sugar maples lining Main Street. The trees graced the sidewalk and shaded his steps from the front door of his office clear down to the sheriff’s at the other end of the street. He’d make a point to see Mitch, Sheriff Wallace, today as well. His day was rapidly filling up with people he needed to see, not all of them for medical reasons. He had to start that list—which was the main thing he intended to discuss with Mitch—of some of the older people in town and schedule routine check-ins—even if they were likely to be crabby about it. But in Apple Grove, people always wanted to help.
The tantalizing scent of baked goods was stronger as he drew closer to the diner. Stepping through the open door to the diner, he paused at the threshold, drawing in another deep breath. Freshly brewed coffee and the scent of just-baked sweetness beckoned to him. Jack smiled, knowing it would be a McCormack who would greet him.
“How was your flight back?” Peggy McCormack asked. “You flew right through that rainstorm.”
“Uneventful,” he said, smiling at the older of the two sisters. “Just the way I like it.”
“How many broken hearts did you leave behind, Doc?” Peggy’s sister Kate asked. When he just shook his head, she added, “There are plenty of women in town who’d be more than happy to take the edge off…if you know what I mean.”
“Don’t scare him off when he’s only just arrived,” Peggy told her. “We haven’t gotten any news from him yet.” Making a shooing motion toward the coffeepot, she smiled at Jack and told her sister, “Grab some coffee for Doc.”