“You can see it plainly, even without the lightbox. Two cracked ribs, Mr. Stevenson.” “Call me Charlie, everybody does. Huh. So that’s what a busted rib looks like.” Eric nodded. “All I can do for you is give you pain pills and tell you to take it easy.” Which, if he knew anything about stubborn old ranchers, Charlie wasn’t about to do. “Don’t like pain pills. And Sam can’t manage alone.” Eric studied him for a minute and added, “You really should let your own doctor check you out.” The old man shook his head. “Nope, I want you to take care of me. Never liked that fella anyway.” “You might not like me, either,” Eric said, grinning. “I’m going to tell Piper that you need to take it easy.” “Aw, Doc, don’t do that. She’ll fuss over me ‘til I go crazy.” Eric laughed. A crafty light appeared in Charlie’s eyes. “Say Doc, I could put in a good word for you with her.” “No deal, Charlie.” Piper peered around the edge of the door. “Is he okay?”
