Главная страница | Современные любовные романы | Lightning Strikes

Lightning Strikes
Mary Lynn Baxter


36 hours: a town is plunged into darkness.. the mayor is missing..two doctors race the clock to save lives.. as a blackout paralyzed Grand Springs, Colorado, Dr. Noah Howell was back on the job in Vanderbilt Memorial's ER, thrown together with Dr. Amanda Jennings, the woman he'd never forgotten,,, the woman he's walked away from one long year ago; in the desperate hours of the night, tension turned to passion, and fate brought Noah one last chance to reveal the truth behind his betrayal, but some secrets were better left untold.







36 hours that changed everything…

As a devastating summer storm rages in Grand Springs, Colorado, the mayor’s life hangs in the balance. A bride flees her own wedding, pursued by mysterious gunmen. A mudslide traps a girl in a cave. And a stranger walks into town with no memory of his name or his past.

In the hospital’s E.R., Doctor Noah Howell has always put others first. But now, in the midst of the chaos, he decides to go for what he’s always wanted—Amanda Jennings.

Book 1 of the 36 Hours series. Don’t miss Book 2: Opposites attract when a mudslide traps Sean and Cassandra in her car in Strange Bedfellows by Kasey Michaels.




Lightning Strikes

Mary Lynn Baxter







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




Contents


Chapter One (#u5a270411-8013-5187-9975-3e4f82f0923e)

Chapter Two (#u8c765a23-d179-5926-bbe4-8a08eb92f51b)

Chapter Three (#u99f7f104-bb26-5392-af12-47fd3e7ff2c5)

Chapter Four (#u9fe6c51b-c848-5934-9d6b-481cc98c8bb2)

Chapter Five (#u839e63d5-4212-59eb-9cab-858285c899a2)

Chapter Six (#uaa4656fa-cb12-581b-856b-fa14d932463a)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)




Prologue


The man behind the wheel muttered an expletive. He couldn’t see a damn thing. He’d never in his life seen rain like this, and he wasn’t all that young. More to the point, he’d sure never tried to drive through it. If he didn’t know better, he’d think it was the end of the world. A smirk twisted his lips in his lean face. Hell, for all he knew, maybe it was.

He took in a deep breath, trying to settle his growing apprehension. His plight wouldn’t be so bad if he weren’t on a mountain road. But he was. The sensible thing would be to pull over and wait out the torrential downpour. If he knew it would stop soon, he wouldn’t hesitate to do that.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have that guarantee, and even if he did, he doubted he’d actually stop. He had to reach Grand Springs. In fact, he felt a driving urgency he hadn’t experienced in a long time. It had been that phone call he’d received. What could “Her Honor,” the mayor of Grand Springs, Colorado, want? He had no idea, but the frantic note in her voice had gotten to him. Without wasting any time, he’d jumped into his car.

He paused in his thoughts and gripped the steering wheel harder. His worst fear was that he’d hit a puddle of water just right and hydroplane into another car. He glanced in his rearview mirror and both side mirrors. For the moment, it appeared he was the only vehicle on this road high in the Colorado mountains.

Fool or idiot.

He didn’t know which word most aptly described him. It didn’t matter. He was on the road, and he had to deal with the situation as best he could.

At least he had his radio and could keep abreast of the worsening weather, he assured himself. Reaching for the knob, he turned up the volume, only to jump when a mass of static blared back at him. He cursed again, just as the sound came through the speakers clearly.

He listened to the newscaster’s deep voice warn that if this heavy rain continued, a new rainfall record would be set.

“Really…” he muttered, dodging as lightning came at him from every side, convinced it could reach through the glass and wreak a personal vengeance on him.

Frustration gnawed at him as he was forced to slow his car even more. Hell, he was already crawling at a snail’s pace. Surely the rain had to let up. Fate cut him no slack—lightning continued to crackle nearby, followed by the loudest booms of thunder he’d ever heard.

Suddenly, he flinched again in awe of such a horrific twist of nature. But that awe didn’t last long. It turned once more into impatient anger as the rain slashed against his windshield along with the wipers.

Pull over, he told himself savagely. But he didn’t. Inching down the highway, he didn’t know how long he held this pattern, his mind consumed with keeping the car on the road. Then miraculously the rain slackened, and, though he had to squint, he could see a short distance ahead.

Taking advantage of the reprieve, he increased his speed to make up for lost time. His mind raced. What could Olivia want? he asked himself, recalling the desperation coloring her voice. It wasn’t as if…

He never got any further. An odd but unidentifiable sound chopped off his thoughts. Jerking his head to his right, he saw mud barreling down the hillside straight toward him.

“Oh, God, no!” he cried, only his plea for mercy was too late.

Before he could so much as turn the wheel, mud slammed into the side of his vehicle, sending it careering into the guardrail.

He braced himself for the final impact. His head jerked like a flower on a broken stem, and his temple banged against the side of the window. The last thing he remembered was the sickening blackness that swallowed him.

* * *

An ongoing sickening feeling brought him slowly to the surface of wakefulness. His head pounded as if he’d been beaten to a pulp. Glancing around at the car interior and the view through the windshield, he was struck by the fact nothing seemed familiar. He couldn’t remember a damn thing.

Where was he? Who was he?

Stumbling out of the car into the blinding deluge, the man stood for the longest time, hoping that the cold, stinging rain pelting his face would revive his memory. But only a blank hole remained where his memory should have been.

With no idea what to do next, he started walking.




Chapter One


What a horrible night for a wedding. But then, as far as Noah Howell was concerned, there were no good nights for such an event.

He cut his blue eyes toward a window and watched as the rain slapped against the pane, followed by bolts of lightning and mean cracks of thunder. What the hell was going on? Like most cities, Grand Springs had its share of springtime rains, but this was a bit much.

Weather of such a magnitude bred only one thing: trouble. In fact, during storms, people tended to go a little crazy. He ought to know. As a surgeon, he’d spent countless hours patching maimed bodies from accidents of all kinds. Why the hell didn’t folks use common sense and stay home under these conditions?

Noah smiled but with no humor. Who was he to criticize? Hell, he wasn’t home. He was at Squaw Creek Lodge, nestled high in the mountains, ready to walk his sister, Randi, down the aisle. What blew his mind even more was that the ballroom, which had been turned into a makeshift chapel, was filled with people.

Frowning, Noah focused his attention on the guests, who were smiling and chattering with one another as though Mother Nature wasn’t raising hell. He hoped everyone who planned to attend was already there because the weather was worsening. Besides, the zero hour was only minutes away.

Though the lodge was famous for its rustic atmosphere, the wedding area had been spectacularly transformed by the flowers and candles arranged in a simple but classy style.

But no wonder, considering that his mother, Melissa, had great expectations for Randi, who was marrying “up,” as Melissa was fond of bragging. Hal Stuart, the groom, was a city councilman and his mother was the mayor.

No big deal, Noah thought, as far as he was concerned, anyway. City official or not, Hal put his pants on one leg at a time like any other man. Noah smiled, again with no warmth. Too bad his mother didn’t see Hal as an ordinary man. Hell, when he came around, she thought the waters should part.

Noah winced inwardly as another clap of thunder seemed to shake the entire building. If the intensity of the storm continued, the lodge would lose its power. He had best not even think like that—fearing he might jinx the place and the evening.

He frowned at his cell phone. Why hadn’t Vanderbilt Memorial called him? After all, he was the surgeon on call. But he was glad, he quickly assured himself without enthusiasm, only then to berate himself for his sour attitude. Just because weddings weren’t his thing—having been there, done that—didn’t mean he wanted to throw a kink in his sister’s big night.

Thinking of Randi deepened the frown on Noah’s face. He peered at his watch. Hell, where was she? In five minutes they would parade down that carpeted walkway, making a spectacle of themselves. But again, his mother would be basking in her glory.

Maybe his sister had decided not to go through with the ceremony, he thought, first as a joke. Suddenly he paused to give the notion serious consideration.

Just last week, he had been summoned to Melissa’s house to take care of an insignificant problem that certainly could have waited. But he’d gone, anyway, feeling responsible, that feeling having burgeoned since his father’s death a year ago.

Randi happened to have been there, as well. While their mother was on the phone talking to a friend, he had bluntly commented on the pinched look on his sister’s face.

“You sick or something?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on, you know what I mean. More than sick, you look like a whipped pup.”

Her body stiffened. “That’s not nice to say.”

“Whoever said I was nice?” Noah quipped with a careless shrug.

“Me.”

“Thanks,” he said, “but you’re prejudiced.”

“Probably, but you’ve been here for us.” She paused. “When Dad passed away—” Her voice cracked as she seemed to struggle for control. Seconds later, she continued, “You took charge.”

He had, though it hadn’t been easy. His mother thought she was better than others, despite the fact that his folks hadn’t had much monetarily. Noah never figured out where she’d gotten that idea. His daddy had been a common laborer, and had barely earned enough to scrape by. Melissa, on the other hand, had no skills at all and had never worked.

What Noah had accomplished had been through gut-hard work and scholarships. He was damn proud of having made it on his own. And he didn’t mind helping his mother, but she could test his patience. How many times had he told her to climb down off her social ladder? He might as well have been talking to a wall.

When he’d realized his thoughts had wandered, he said, “I wasn’t making fun, sis. I was serious. Is there something going on I should know about? If not with your intended, then with Mother?” He lowered his voice so Melissa wouldn’t hear him, although she was laughing out loud.

Randi sighed, her fingers tunneling through her wild black curls. “While Mother’s definitely driving me up a wall, I’m afraid my problem’s more serious.”

“So you need big brother’s ear, huh?”

“It’s something I should work out for myself.”

Noah’s dark brows came together. “Which means it has something to do with Hal.”

She flushed. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to me.” Noah paused. “Are you sure you’re not just getting the proverbial last-minute jitters?”

“I don’t know,” she said, her eyes darting to her mother, who was still laughing into her cell phone.

“Look, if you don’t know, then who does?”

Randi pursed her lips. “Things are not always black or white. Besides, if I upset the applecart, Mother would have a conniption fit.”

“So?”

“So, she’d make my life unbearable.” When he would’ve interrupted, she shook her head. “I know. But then, you don’t let her push your buttons.”

“And it’s time you stopped letting her push yours. Stand up for yourself.”

“Like I said, it’s not just Mother.”

“Hell, if you don’t want to marry Hal, then by God, call off the wedding.”

Randi blew out her breath. “It’s not that easy.” Pausing, she tilted her head. “You should know that.”

“Yeah,” he said, “but I don’t claim to be a role model.”

Randi had leaned over then and kissed him on the cheek at the same time she gave him a wan but grateful smile. “Thanks for listening, but it’s too late to back out now. I’m too big a chicken.”

“Nah, you’re just too good for your own good.”

She was, but there wasn’t anything he could do about that. Randi would do what she had to. He couldn’t make decisions for her. Besides, he had more on his own plate than he could digest. And like she’d pointed out, he wasn’t someone who could give advice. Hadn’t he messed up his own life?

Returning to the present, Noah looked up and watched his future brother-in-law walk out of one of the rooms off the adjacent hall.

Hal Stuart was tall with dishwater blond hair and brown eyes. He was handsome and personable, without being charismatic, something Noah thought would’ve been a prerequisite for a public official. But again, what did he know? Nothing, except he didn’t like Hal, which was too bad, since he would soon be a bona fide member of the family.

“Can you believe this weather?” Hal asked.

“Nope.”

“Water’s everywhere. We’ll be damn lucky if we don’t wash away.”

“That’s why we need to get this show on the road.” Noah didn’t bother to hide the impatience in his voice.

“I’m ready.” Hal’s eyes circled the area. “Where’s Randi? And my mother?”

“Beats the hell out of me.”

Hal’s lips thinned. “I’ll be back shortly.”

“Where—” Noah swallowed the remainder of his sentence as Hal disappeared down the hall. “Swell,” he muttered.

“That’s a bad sign, you know.”

At the sound of the whiskey voice, Noah swung around and watched as Pitser Bowman, a banker and president of the hospital board, strode toward him, looking like a drowned rat. Despite his rain gear, his large frame was wet.

Noah was surprised to see him in spite of Hal having friends in high places. Apparently, Pitser was one of those friends.

Noah’s lips twisted. “Are you referring to my talking to myself?”

“It happens in the best of families,” Pitser replied, the spare tire around his waist shaking with his laughter.

“You’re a brave soul to be out in this weather.”

“Crazy’s more like it.” Pitser glanced at his watch. “Since I was running late, I figured I’d sneak in unnoticed.”

“Everyone’s late,” Noah said tightly. “In fact, I’m beginning to—” He broke off, batting the air with his hand, unable to curb his frustration, yet not wanting to bad-mouth his sister for her tardiness.

“Of course, you’re frothing at the mouth to get back to the hospital.”

“Actually, I can’t believe I haven’t been paged.”

“Just give it time.”

Noah nodded. “Glad you came.”

“By the way, the committee’s narrowed the choice of chief of surgery to two.” Pitser leveled his gaze on him.

Noah’s heart skipped a beat. “Oh?”

“You and Malcom Riley.” While Noah grappled for an appropriate response, Pitser grinned. “Better go get my seat.”

Noah closed his gaping mouth but stood transfixed for a moment, his sluggish mind catching up with his out-of-control pulse.

He’d never dreamed he’d be in the running for such a prestigious, responsible and cutthroat position, though that particular job was something he wanted very much. At this point, he would do just about anything to get it.

He couldn’t think about that right now. There would be time after this damn ceremony to mull over what Bowman had said and to plan his strategy. His competitor, Malcom Riley, was a rich, smooth bastard who would stop at nothing to get the position.

It oughta be one helluva good fight, Noah thought, then stared down the aisle at his mother, who stared back at him, a put-out expression on her face.

For once, he thought, Melissa had a right to be put out. Where was his sister and her groom? he wondered, noticing the subtle crook of his mother’s finger.

Seconds later, Noah eased into the chair reserved for the groom’s mother, Olivia, and looked into another pair of blue eyes, bright with anger.

Under less stressful circumstances, Melissa, at sixty-three, would be considered lovely with her tall, slender frame, silver hair and unlined skin. Now, however, that skin looked sallow and pinched.

“What’s going on?” she demanded in a whisper, through clenched teeth.

“Suppose you tell me. You were the last to see Randi.” Noah glanced at his watch. “What, ten minutes ago?”

“And she was ready. Patsy was putting the finishing touches on her hair.”

As Randi’s best friend, Patsy Fuller was going to serve as her only attendant. And now that Patsy had been mentioned, Noah wondered where Hal’s attendant was. Hell, for that matter, where was the entire wedding party?

“So, what do you want me to do?” Noah asked.

“Knock on the door, for God’s sake.” Though Melissa didn’t lift her head, she continued, “See for yourself how fidgety everyone is. Lord knows, the weather’s bad enough without making matters worse. Besides, I wanted everything to be perfect.”

“Mother—”

“Don’t ‘Mother’ me. This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance for your sister. I can’t believe she’d do anything to mess it up.”

“She won’t.” Noah wished he could be that sure. Maybe she was having serious second thoughts about marrying Hal, thoughts that were much more than premarital jitters. But like he’d told her, he could understand, and unlike their mother, he wouldn’t pass judgment.

“See that she doesn’t.”

“How ’bout Hal’s mother? She’s not here.”

“That’s her problem,” Melissa said in her haughtiest tone. “Just because she’s without manners doesn’t mean my daughter has to be.”

Noah curbed his temper. “God, Mother, you’re a piece of work.”

Before she could make a suitable comeback, Noah got up and made his way back up the aisle, conscious of the stares and the smiles thrown his way. He forced himself to be civil.

The makeshift foyer was still deserted. He mouthed an expletive.

That curse, however, was drowned out by another loud clap of thunder, while rain, mingled with hail, sounded like gunshots assaulting the building. Suddenly, the lights outside the candlelit hall went dark.

Another curse left his mouth just as Patsy rounded the corner. For a moment, she stood still, illuminated against the darkness by candlelight, while her eyes scanned the premises with the intensity of radar. Once they landed on him, she dashed toward him, grabbed him around the neck and jerked his head down to her mouth.

“Hey, what—”

“Just listen,” she said tersely.

Moments later, Noah lifted his head and sucked in a harsh breath. Finally, he responded in a low, dead tone, “Thanks, I’ll take care of it.”

Leaving Patsy chewing on her bottom lip and wringing her hands, Noah strode back down the aisle and stopped briefly to speak to his mother, who, with the palm of her hand, smothered a cry.

He then moved to the front of the chapel.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please, may I have your attention.”

While waiting for the chatter to cease, he cut his eyes to his mother, who looked like she’d been kicked in the teeth. She had been, and for once he actually felt sorry for her.

Then, realizing every eye in the room was on him, he cleared his throat and spoke in a clear, steady tone. “I’m sorry, but there’s not going to be a wedding. The bride’s disappeared!”




Chapter Two


She was going to get run over.

That was a fact. The only question was who was going to hit her.

But then, what did she expect when she was standing in the middle of the highway? Cold rain slapped Randi’s face so hard it actually stung like tiny switches. Her top teeth were digging into her lower lip so hard it was bleeding, which kept her from speaking. That wasn’t a problem, however, as she had no one to speak to.

She was alone.

Another sob expanded the knot in her throat at the exact moment she saw the headlights of an oncoming vehicle slicing through the darkness of the rain. Thank God! Someone was brave enough to be out in this godawful weather. But, she cautioned herself between shivers, excited was the last thing she should feel. Only crazies would be on the road on a night like this.

Still, she was thankful another human was in sight, even though a childhood warning jumped to the forefront of her mind: don’t get into a car with strangers. In today’s climate, that warning carried even more weight. But she was not a child, and she had no choice.

Desperation drove her. And fear. And the cold. She couldn’t remember ever being chilled down to the bone the way she was now. The rain, suddenly turning more violent, more than stung. It pierced her skin like sharp icicles.

Without further thought, Randi lifted the front of her long dress and ran toward the vehicle. Despite the fact that it was an eighteen-wheeler, she stepped in front of its headlights and waved one hand frantically over her head.

At first she didn’t think the truck was going to stop. Later, she realized the driver had to swerve to keep from hitting her. Then, a few yards beyond her, the driver slammed on the brakes, but he didn’t stop. His tires spun for the longest time on a highway that was slicker than polished glass.

Once the truck screeched to a halt, Randi, with her dress still hiked, dashed to the door, trying to ignore the fear that hammered inside her. Again, what if whoever was behind that wheel was a rapist? Or worse?

For a second she paused, then, throwing caution to the horrible weather, she reached for the door handle. At the same time, a man leaned over and thrust it open.

“Get in before you drown!”

Though it was difficult in the cumbersome wedding dress, Randi scrambled inside the warm cab. She didn’t know how long she sat there, unable to do anything but shake. Her chest felt as though it was going to burst, and her breath came in short, gasping spurts. Finally, she leaned her head back against the seat and fought off a round of dizziness.

“Sumbitch, lady, you ain’t gonna pass out on me, are you?”

Randi heard the driver’s hoarse voice, edged with an accent she identified as Southern. She also felt his eyes on her, yet she was powerless to respond.

Somehow, though, she had to get a grip. She couldn’t indulge herself any longer. Time was critical. However, she owed him an explanation, and he probably wouldn’t budge until she gave him one. But she had to get the hell out of Grand Springs.

Now.

“Lady, you mind tellin’ me what the hell’s going on?”

“Please, can you just drive?” Randi pleaded through teeth that were banging against one another. She didn’t know whether fear or the bone-numbing cold was the main culprit. But it didn’t matter. Again, all that was important was moving on down the road. How could she make this cowboy understand that?

With the thought uppermost in her mind, she whipped her head around and stared at him. A mean flash of lightning chose that moment to rip across the sky, allowing her to see his features. He was a burly man in his fifties, a cowboy with a hat, jeans and boots. And a wad of tobacco lodged between his lower lip and gums.

Yuck.

Randi twisted her head back around, but not before she saw him reach for the coffee can beside him on the seat and spit into it. A stream of brown juice hit the can with a pinging sound.

Double yuck.

Her stomach rebelled, and for a minute she thought she would be sick. Breathe deeply, Randi told herself, thinking she should be grateful that someone had come along and, without running over her, picked her up.

While she might not chew tobacco, she wouldn’t win any beauty contest, not by a long shot. Even without a mirror, she’d bet her last dollar she resembled someone out of a horror movie. Her hair was hanging in strings around her cheeks. Her face was devoid of makeup, the combined tears and rain having washed it off. And her once-lovely white gown was splattered with mud, making it a candidate for the garbage.

And her shoes—well, they were soggy boats that would barely stay on.

Still, she was safe. Or was she?

“Please, will you just drive, mister.” Her voice continued down its shaky path, although the warmth in the truck had made a dent into her bones, easing the pain there.

“Hell, I was thinking of pulling over until this mess stopped.”

“You can’t do that!” Panic underlined her every word.

Apparently he picked up on that. His tone softened when he said, “Even an old dumb Texas cowboy knows trouble when he sees it. And you’re in trouble, right?”

She would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so serious. Her, in trouble? Of course she was in trouble, she wanted to shout. Even this Texas road warrior couldn’t be in the habit of picking up strange, bedraggled women dressed in mud-soaked wedding gowns.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked, giving her a quick, sharp look before cutting his eyes back on the road.

“No! Yes! I mean, I just want you to drive.”

“By the way, my name’s Alton Evers.”

She nodded.

“What’s yours.”

“Er, Randi.”

“Okay, Randi, any place in particular you wanna go?”

Again she shook her head. “I’ll go wherever you’re going.”

Alton shoved his hat back and scratched his forehead. “Damn, ain’t that something? Ain’t never had a woman tell me that, especially one who was dressed in a wedding gown.” He chuckled. “Well me, I’m heading to Phoenix.”

Randi’s stomach did another somersault. If she’d had any other alternative, she would’ve bounded out of that truck. But she didn’t. She had to stay put and pray that he would shift gears and drive on.

She waited with bated breath, almost tasting his curiosity. Once they were on their way, she would tell him her story. Now all she could do was plead with him through frightened eyes not to ask any question—just drive. Suddenly, she cringed as another flash of lightning and bolt of thunder jarred the truck.

“Dammit, if my rear didn’t tell me better, I’d say I was back in good ole Texas. You know, we have these kinda storms every spring. They’re worse than this, if you can believe that. Why, lightning’s been known to singe the hair right off a man’s arms, honest to Pete.”

“Please, would you just drive.”

Alton acted as if he wanted to argue with her, but he didn’t. Instead, he shifted into drive and pulled back onto the highway.

“I’m here to tell you,” he said into the silence, leaning over the steering wheel, “we’re gonna be moving slower than molasses running uphill. I ain’t about to wreck my semi or myself for nothin’ or nobody.”

“I understand,” Randi said in a strangled voice. “I just appreciate you picking me up.”

“Ain’t no problem. Glad for the company, especially on a night like tonight.”

Only she didn’t think she’d be good company, Randi thought, wanting to tell him that, but deciding against it. He’d figure that out soon enough.

It was all she could do to keep her fractured mind and body together, yet she felt a sense of relief that at least they were finally putting distance between herself and Grand Springs.

Her blood curdled when she thought of what she had done. Not only had she run out on her wedding and Hal, her husband-to-be, but she had run out on her family, as well.

Hal would be livid, no question about that. Her brother, Noah, bless his soul, would be worried out of his mind. And her mother, Melissa, would be both livid and worried. At this juncture, Randi refused to dwell on their feelings. Anyway, to do so would be wasting good energy, energy that she had to conserve since she had no idea what the future held.

Another shiver ran through her.

“You still cold, miss?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Yeah, right,” he muttered before focusing his attention back onto the treacherous road.

It was bad enough that she’d decided at the last minute she couldn’t go through with the wedding, but…

“You feel like talkin’?”

His rough voice ripped into her thoughts. Her throat constricted again. “Not really.”

“What did your old man do, knock you around?”

“Excuse me?” Randi asked, his question jolting her.

“Did he punch you or what?”

“No…no.”

“So why’d you cut out on him?”

She gave him her full attention. “Look, I appreciate you helping me, and when I can, I’ll compensate you for it, but—”

“You don’t want me askin’ no questions?”

“That’s right,” she said in a small voice.

“No problem.”

If only things were that simple for her. If only she hadn’t overheard that conversation. But she had. She caught her breath and held it, not wanting to think about what had happened next.

Who were those men she’d heard talking? After realizing she’d heard them, they had chased her. She paused, pulling air into her dry lungs. And both had had guns!

Dear Lord, what had she stumbled into?

If the blackout hadn’t occurred when it did, would they have found her and killed her?

Yes.

From the menacing looks on their faces, she was sure she would’ve been dead. But for now, she decided, glancing again at the driver, she was safe.

Thanks to this tobacco-chewing Texas gentleman, she was putting distance between herself and the man she didn’t want to marry and the evil men who for some reason wanted to end her life.




Chapter Three


Amanda Jennings stepped back from the gurney while smiling down into the patient’s face, a young man who had been brought into the ER after having received a nasty clunk on the head. He had been working overtime at a local factory. He’d more than likely been so tired he’d been careless.

She could identify with the former, but not the latter. In her job, she couldn’t afford to be careless. People’s lives were in her hands, a responsibility she had never taken lightly or shirked.

“Feeling any better, Mr. Epps?” Amanda asked.

He gave her a lame smile. “Much better, Doc. Thanks.”

“You’re more than welcome. Try and get some rest, okay? Your CT scan showed a slight concussion, so we’re going to keep a close eye on you.” Amanda switched her gaze to her friend Karen Sloane, a resident in internal medicine who was pulling an extra shift in the ER. “Doctor, let me know if there’s any change in Mr. Epps. I’ll be in my office.”

Karen nodded, then turned to the patient, her gray eyes twinkling. “You’re stuck with me now.”

“Do you hear me complaining? Hell, I’m surrounded by two good-looking women.”

“Uh-oh,” Amanda said, “he’s for sure on the mend.”

Light laughter followed her departure out of trauma room one and into the hall of Vanderbilt Memorial, where she was working overtime, pulling a double shift.

Considering the stormy weather, the ER, where she was permanently employed, was unusually quiet. Give it time, she told herself with a downward curve of her full lips. This kind of weather was a perfect breeding ground for wrecks and various other accidents, and it was Friday night, which, regardless of the circumstances, was always busy.

Amanda made it to her office on the first floor, where admitting and the emergency room were both located. Once in her tiny cubbyhole, barely large enough for a desk, filing cabinet and cot, she released a sigh and pushed a thick lock of blond hair behind her ear.

God, she was tired, yet she didn’t want to go home. Besides, she was needed. Due to the horrendous weather that had begun earlier in the day, only a skeleton crew was on hand. Flooding and mud slides had made many of the roads impassable. The police and other city officials had advised people to stay indoors.

So far, so good, Amanda reminded herself again, though she wasn’t about to become smug. “Calm before the storm” jumped to the forefront of her mind just as a clap of thunder suddenly rocked the building. Amanda flinched, then frowned. As predicted, her complacency hadn’t lasted long. In all the years she’d lived in Grand Springs, which was the majority of her life, this was the worst weather this town of sixty thousand had ever experienced.

If the rain didn’t quit soon, she envisioned the small tourist town washing down the mountainside and disappearing. Of course, that wasn’t going to happen, or at least she prayed it wouldn’t. Tourism was a major source of income, since the small city lay within easy reach of the best ski slopes, lakes and hiking trails Colorado had to offer.

However, she would be glad when the storm had passed and things settled back to normal. Everyone’s nerves seemed to be on edge, hers included.

But her agitation didn’t stem from the weather alone. She wished… No. She wouldn’t do that to herself. She refused to let her thoughts wander down the forbidden path that she had declared off-limits. She wasn’t going to indulge herself now, not when she was happier with herself and her work than she’d been in months. She loved being a doctor, and she loved Grand Springs.

“Anyone home?”

The unexpected interruption into her thoughts brought her head around. The director of the emergency room, Carl Stanley, had opened the door and was standing on the threshold, smiling.

“Inside or out?” she asked, returning his smile.

He got her message because he laughed. “Don’t feel bad. My brain’s been on hiatus, too.”

She couldn’t ask for a smarter or nicer boss, although he certainly didn’t resemble a doctor. He was big and burly with bushy hair and beard. In fact, he often looked downright sloppy, as though he needed a good scrubbing. She suspected that was because of his grungy fingertips and teeth yellowed from years of smoking. Yet nothing could overshadow his sharp mind and talented hands.

“Come on in,” Amanda said, “although I was about to head for the lounge and grab a quick cup of coffee.”

Dr. Stanley opened the door wider, than stepped aside with the sweep of his arm. “Let’s go. I could use a cup myself.”

Once they were in the large room, replete with a refrigerator and microwave plus a metal table and chairs, and an uncomfortable-looking cot, they didn’t speak until they each had a cup of strong coffee in hand and were seated at the table.

“By the way, thanks for doubling.”

“No problem,” Amanda answered.

“I wish all my staff were as eager and accommodating as you.”

“For the most part, they are.”

Carl was quiet for a moment, rubbing his beard. “How would you like to be my assistant?”

Amanda gasped and her eyes widened. “You’re kidding?”

“Nope. Vanderbilt’s on the verge of getting a huge grant that will make that possible, both professionally and monetarily.”

“Well, I’m flattered, of course.”

“But—”

Amanda flushed, but she didn’t shift her gaze when she said, “You’ve heard, haven’t you?”

“That you want to leave ER and go into private practice—into sports medicine, to be exact. You’re right, I’ve heard. And I’m not happy.”

“So this is your way of keeping me chained to Vanderbilt?”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, actually, it’s very flattering and I’m honored.”

“So, just say yes.”

Amanda stood and walked to the window, though she continued to sip on her coffee. Like Carl, she needed the punch from the caffeine. For a moment, she seemed mesmerized by the rain slashing against the pane.

“I can’t imagine this hospital without you.” He paused with a cough. “Don’t leave. Please.”

Amanda swung back around. “I can’t make any promises. Going into sports medicine has been and is my ultimate dream. But what I can promise is that I won’t be leaving anytime soon.”

“Thank God. I thought maybe Noah’s return—”

Amanda shook her head, cutting him off. “He has nothing to do with my decisions.” Her tone was as cold as the sudden drop in her body’s temperature.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to imply that—”

“You didn’t,” she responded matter-of-factly, yet her tone remained chilly. “At this point, I feel I need more experience before I go it alone, which means I’ll definitely give your offer serious thought, if the grant pans out.”

The director drained his cup, then stood, a smile once again in place. “Trust me, it’ll happen. Meanwhile, I’m outta here. If things get hairy, I’ll try and come back.”

“For heaven’s sake, be careful on those slick roads.”

“I’ll be fine. I wouldn’t go, except I’m about to fall asleep on my feet, which means I’m not safe to touch any patient.”

She couldn’t argue with that. Fatigue was a special no-no in ER as fast, critical decisions had to be made by clear minds and steady hands. Miraculously, she still had both.

“Take care,” Amanda called to his back. He waved and closed the door behind him.

For a moment, she dickered as to whether to remain in the break room or return to her cubbyhole. She opted to stay where she was as long as it was quiet. But then, quiet was not what she needed; it gave her too much time to think.

Damn Carl for mentioning Noah Howell.

She peered at her watch and noticed that the wedding was about to take place at Squaw Creek Lodge. Noah’s sister, Randi, was getting married, and everyone who was anyone would be there. Everyone except her, that is, she thought with a smirk. But that was all right. Squaw Creek was the last place she wanted to be.

She preferred being right where she was, doing her job. More to the point, she preferred not to think about weddings—anyone’s wedding. Still, she couldn’t help but think about tomorrow and its significance. It would have been her first wedding anniversary, if Noah hadn’t practically jilted her at the altar.

Amanda’s breath caught in her lungs and she squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to ward off her errant thoughts. Her tactic backfired. Noah’s ghost seemed to haunt the room. Why did she have to think about him now, when she was alone? To do so made her crazy, crazy with anger and frustration.

His return to Vanderbilt had been like a blow from behind. Out of all the area hospitals that needed top-notch surgeons, some much more prestigious than Vanderbilt Memorial, why had he chosen to return home? Why had the board taken him back? That latter question was easily answered—he was the best at what he did. His hands were the consummate surgeon’s. He was the consummate surgeon. Too bad that talent didn’t spill over into his personal life.

After he had left, Amanda prayed that by some miracle she wouldn’t ever have to see him again. She had almost begun to feel secure in that prayer being answered when she’d received word he had returned. Her knee-jerk reaction had been to resign on the spot.

Then common sense and pride had come to her rescue. No way was she going to let him get another shot at ruining her life, not when she was beginning to mend her heart and find happiness again.

To hell with him then and to hell with him now.

“Grrrh!” she muttered, gritting her teeth, determined to corral her runaway thoughts. No such luck. Her mind had homed in on the past and wouldn’t let go.

Noah had appeared at her door that fateful day just as he had a million times before. They had committed themselves to a hamburger cookout given by another doctor and his family. Neither had wanted to go but felt they had to. So when Noah arrived, she had been dressed and waiting.

The instant she had opened the door and looked at his face, she’d known something was wrong. Another dead giveaway was that he hadn’t jerked her into his arms and kissed her, hot and hungrily as was his habit when he hadn’t seen her for several days. At that particular time, he’d just returned from a surgical seminar.

“What’s the matter?” she had asked without preamble.

He pushed past her, walked to the center of the room, then whipped around, his features contorted. Her heart skipped a beat. Even after he’d lost a patient, she had never seen that tormented expression on his chiseled features. Her heart skipped several more beats.

“Noah,” she said in a breathless tone.

“I don’t know how to say this.”

“Say what?”

Silence.

“For heaven’s sake, you can tell me anything.” Somehow the words managed to get past her dry lips.

“I can’t marry you.”

At first, she merely blinked, followed by a shake of her head as if she hadn’t heard him right. “What did you say?”

“Our wedding’s off.” His voice was so strained and low that she could barely understand him.

Still, she staggered back as though he’d slapped her. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m serious, all right. Dead serious.”

“But why? I mean—” Amanda couldn’t go on. The words dried up in her throat.

“Trust me, you don’t want to know. In fact, you’re better off without knowing. More than that, you’re damn sure better off without me.”

“Why, this is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard, Noah. You’re not making any sense. We’re supposed to be getting married in three months.”

“Again, that’s not going to happen.”

“Damn you! If you’re walking out on me, don’t you think you at least owe me an explanation?”

“Just consider yourself lucky. I’m doing you the biggest favor of your life.”

She closed the distance between them and grabbed his arm. “I don’t know what’s going on or what’s happening. But one thing I do know is that you love me.”

He groaned. “Don’t, Amanda.”

“Don’t?” She heard her voice rise to a hysterical level, but she couldn’t stop it any more than she could stop her heart from dying inside her. “Is that all you have to say?”

“Yes,” Noah said again, shifting his gaze while holding himself stiff and untouchable.

“Fine. I’ll accept this cock-and-bull explanation, if you can look me in the eye and tell me you’ve stopped loving me.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything, which rejuvenated her heart. “See, I knew—”

“I don’t love you anymore.”

The soft but emphatically spoken words fell into the room with the force of an exploding bomb. She wanted to scream; she wanted to attack him physically; she wanted to hide from the pain he was inflicting.

She did nothing. Instead, she stepped back and stared at him like he was the scum of the earth, which was exactly how she thought of him. Who the hell did he think he was to walk into her house out of the blue and calmly tell her he wasn’t going to marry her, that he no longer loved her?

A first-class bastard who didn’t deserve her.

Amanda jutted her chin and fought back the tears. She would rather have died than let him know how deeply his unexpected attack had wounded her. “All right, have it your way.”

“Amanda—”

“No! Don’t say another word.” She pulled off her ring and threw it at his feet. It bounced off one booted foot and landed on the carpet.

He didn’t move.

“Pick it up, damn you, and get out! I never want to see you again.”

Without taking his blue eyes off her, he leaned over, scooped up the ring, straightened, then headed toward the door. Only after he closed it behind him, did it hit her what had actually happened.

In the blink of an eye, her life had changed. Noah was no longer a part of it. She had sunk to floor and cried until she had no more tears to cry.

To this day, she still had no idea why he had walked out on her. The following morning at work, she had learned that he’d taken a one-year personal leave of absence from his duties as staff surgeon.

Somehow, with the help of close friends, she had managed to keep on living and functioning, despite the devastation done by Noah’s betrayal.

Then he had come back. A few months earlier than expected.

“Why, you bastard?” she whispered, digging her nails into her palms. “Why did you even come back?”




Chapter Four


Amanda felt the jiggle at her side. Her smart phone was going berserk. She should have known the short respite was too good to be true.

ER was calling, but that was good. She needed to work. A few minutes later she was striding through the automatic double doors.

“Trauma one, Doctor!” an attendant called out.

Harold Epps. Something had obviously gone wrong. Upping her pace, Amanda dashed into the room. Dr. Sloane and a male nurse were holding the man down on the bed; he was in the throes of a violent convulsion.

“What happened?” Amanda demanded in a controlled but firm voice. She then stepped up to the gurney.

Dr. Sloane was clearly upset. “I…turned my back just for a second. That’s when I heard that terrible noise and knew he was having a seizure.”

Amanda issued orders. “Get something to put into his mouth so he won’t swallow his tongue.”

While that was being taken care of, Amanda used her tiny light and peered into his eyes. They were rolled up toward the top of his head.

“Harold! What’s wrong with my husband?”

Ignoring the frantic voice behind her, Amanda gave another order. Within seconds, Harold settled down, but was soon wheeled to X-ray for extensive testing.

She turned then and looked at the white-faced and pregnant young woman who hovered inside the room next to the door. One of the ER nurses on duty, Liz Roberts, stood beside her.

After letting the woman see that her husband was sleeping peacefully, Amanda asked her to sit down, then told her what had happened.

“Oh, God,” the woman whispered, tears filling her eyes. “Is…is he going to die?”

An alarm went off in Amanda’s head. “Why do you ask that?”

“Didn’t he tell you?”

“Tell me what?” Amanda asked, the alarm blaring.

“He…he has epilepsy.”

“Why wouldn’t he have told us?”

The woman bit down on her lower lip and looked scared out of her wits. “Because he’s like that. Always puts on a happy face so he won’t have to miss work.” Tears spilled from her eyes. “You…you see, we don’t have much money, and I’m not able to work, with the baby coming and all.”

She was sobbing in earnest now, and Amanda said, “He’s going to be all right. You dry those tears and soon I’ll let you see him. Meanwhile, Liz will accompany you to the waiting room. If need be, we’ll talk later.”

“Thanks, Doctor,” she said with a gulp.

After leaving orders to be kept apprised of Harold’s condition, Amanda checked on two other patients who remained under observation, then went back to her office, where she realized she was trembling.

Those two young people had gotten to her. One of these days, she feared, she was going to get tough and not care. If that ever happened, she would turn in her license. An uncaring doctor wasn’t worth his salt.

Sitting at her desk, Amanda placed her head in her hands, only to flinch as another streak of lightning danced across the sky, followed by a mean rumble of thunder. Would this mess ever stop? she wondered, feeling more and more uneasy by the minute. Bad weather usually had no affect on her, maybe because she was used to dealing with crises. Possibly her childhood had as much to do with that as being a doctor, for it had been as traumatic and vicious as this storm.

But she knew why her nerves were seemingly resting on the outside of her skin. Noah. There was a God, however, as she hadn’t yet encountered Noah face-to-face. But then, she’d made it a point not to see him, though it hadn’t been easy. She was lucky she hadn’t passed him in the hall, or worse, ended up sitting beside him in a staff meeting.

Of course, she hadn’t avoided him because she still cared. She didn’t. Noah had destroyed her love by his flagrant violation of her feelings. Not only that, he’d undermined her newfound trust in the opposite sex.

“Don’t do this to yourself!” Amanda whispered, taking a deep breath, which somewhat slowed her racing heart. She’d made a new life for herself. That was the key to survival.

She had found a new man.

Gordon Bishop was a woman’s dream come true, a man who knew how to love a woman, and he did love her. He was an investment broker with a fat bank account, although that wasn’t important to her. Though not wealthy, she made a good living and could do most anything she wanted, except set up her own practice. That would take megabucks, which she did not have.

The most notable and important thing about Gordon was that he not only loved her but wanted to marry her. Although she didn’t love him like he loved her, a fact she hadn’t kept a secret because she was unwilling to be anything other than up-front, she nevertheless wanted to take that leap of faith and marry him.

She was scared, admitting that Noah’s cavalier desertion of her had left deep scars. Gordon, however, was as different from Noah as daylight from dark. She knew she could trust Gordon beyond all doubt. And that trust did not come easy. It hadn’t then and didn’t now. Her tumultuous upbringing had seen to that.

Amanda sighed, hating the fact that she continued to beat up on herself, asking instead why she didn’t rush back to the ER where her mind and emotions would be focused on her patients and their needs.

Nothing doing. She didn’t move. The past held her down, insisting on resurrecting itself. Instead of Noah and that cold, foreign look in his eyes, she saw her mother’s empty, angry ones. Tears gathered in Amanda’s eyes, almost blinding her.

Funny, she didn’t realize she had any more tears to cry.

When it came to her childhood, she guessed there would always be tears along with baggage that she couldn’t drop. Even as much as she’d loved Noah, there had been moments when her mother’s brutal words still haunted her.

“That son of a bitch is gone,” her mother had told her five minutes before she was to catch the school bus.

Her six-year-old mind had grappled to understand what Mary Jennings had meant. “You mean Daddy?”

“Yes, ‘Daddy,’” she mimicked with a sneer.

“Where…where’s he gone to?” Amanda stammered, her eyes wide and innocent.

“How the hell should I know?” Her mother’s features twisted into an ugly frown. “What I do know is that he’s not gittin’ back in this house.”

“Oh, Mama, no,” Amanda cried, clutching her satchel against her chest. “Daddy has to come back. He just has to.”

“You stop that whining, you hear me, or I’ll take a belt to your backside.”

“Mama!”

“He’s gone! He ain’t never coming back. He’s a no-good drunk who told me this morning he didn’t want you or me.”

“But he loves me!”

Mary made an unladylike snort. “He don’t love you. He don’t love either one of us, never has, never will.”

Amanda choked back her sobs.

“Hush that up. You might as well learn right now that you can’t trust men. They’re a sorry lot, and they want women for only one thing.”

“But, Mama—”

The school bus arrived at that moment, and the driver honked the horn, ruthlessly ending that conversation. But Mary Jennings was right—Amanda’s daddy never returned home.

Though her mother continued to harp on the untrustworthiness of men, she couldn’t seem to stay away from them. During the remaining years of Amanda’s childhood, both parents married numerous times. She had several brothers and sisters—some were half siblings, the others were step—and the brunt of raising three of them had fallen to her.

Amanda shuddered, recalling the years that had followed, years that had exposed her to unnecessary heartache and made her grow up much faster than she should have.

She’d had no one to depend on but herself. Only through working night and day, along with the help of scholarships, had she been able to reach her dream of becoming a doctor.

And despite her dysfunctional family life and the emotional distrust of men, she was a damn good doctor. She would put her skills up against anyone and come out just fine.

As to her birth parents—they were no longer a burden. They were both dead, having died within a year of each other—her mother from cancer and her daddy from a cerebral hemorrhage. She had been in medical school, away from them and her extended family, whom she now saw only on special occasions as they all lived in various states.

Virtually, she was alone. No, Amanda corrected herself mentally. She wasn’t alone. She had Gordon. Suddenly assured that hearing his voice would get her mind back on track, she grabbed her cell phone on her desk and dialed his number.

“Yo,” she said.

“Yo, yourself,” Gordon countered with a chuckle.

In her mind’s eye, she could see him sitting at his desk, his appearance as disorganized as the papers surrounding him. Although dedicated to his job, he was not a workaholic as she was, which was good. In the event she gave in and married him, they would make a compatible team.

Marrying another doctor would’ve been a mistake.

“Hey, you still there?” Gordon asked.

“Sorry. I just had a free minute and wanted to hear your voice.”

“That’s nice, but are you sure everything’s okay? You sound sort of down.”

“It’s the weather,” she lied, then felt bad. “Actually, I’ve been taking a trip down memory lane. As you well know, that’s taboo.”

“What you need is some time away from that hospital. I hate you being there during this horrible weather. In fact, we shouldn’t even be talking on the phone.”

“Does that even apply to cell phones?”

He chuckled. “Who knows. Maybe you could leave now. You promised to cook me some of your lasagna the first chance you get.”

That had also been Noah’s favorite. She clutched the phone in a deathlike grip. It was in that moment that the loudest boom of thunder yet rocked the entire building, then plunged it into complete darkness.

Jeez Louise! That was all they needed—to lose power. But she knew it was a fact when she heard the whine of the emergency generator crank to life.

“Gordon, got to go. Power’s out.”

Hanging up, she fled the lounge and headed toward ER, knowing all hell was about to break loose.

* * *

“Damn!”

Noah’s phone was going crazy, but then so was his mother. They were facing each other at the back of the dark chapel like adversaries who were out for blood instead of blood-related.

His cell phone rang again, seemingly louder than ever, though he was surprised he could hear it above the pandemonium inside the chapel caused by both his announcement and the now-evident power failure, and the horrendous weather outside.

“Turn that thing off!” Melissa demanded, her blue eyes as cold as slivers of ice.

Noah controlled his temper, though just barely. At any given moment, it could erupt. If anyone knew how to push his buttons, it was his mother, who was as mad as she was upset.

“Look, I have to go.”

“Go?” Melissa’s voice had reached screeching level. “What do you mean, go? You can’t just walk off and leave me alone to clean up your sister’s mess.” She turned to look at the wedding crowd. “What about all those people?”

“They’ll go home.”

“How can you be so…so cavalier?”

“I’m not.”

She sniffed. “Yes, you are.”

“Dammit, Mother, I don’t have any choice. I’m on call at the hospital, and people’s lives depend on me.”

“What about your sister’s?”

His mouth turned down. “Come on, Mother. I doubt her life’s at stake.”

“Get someone else to cover for you.” Melissa’s tone was as haughty as her posture.

“I can’t. Besides, in this weather, I’ll be doing well if I can get there myself.”

“Your sister’s missing, for God’s sake,” Melissa responded, though now in a whiny, cajoling tone. “Surely she’s more important than your job.”

Noah didn’t bother to address that, knowing that his mother was selfish, a fact that would never change no matter what he said or did. “Have you ever thought that Randi disappeared because she wanted to?”

Melissa shook her head. “Why, that’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. She loves Hal, and besides that, she wouldn’t do this to me. Something’s happened. I just know it.” She wrung her hands. “And Hal, where is he?”

“How the hell do I know?”

“Don’t you dare use that tone with me!” Melissa’s eyes flashed. “Randi and I are your responsibility. You have to help Hal find her.”

Noah’s phone squealed again.

“I have to go.” When his mother would have interrupted, he added, “Look, I’m just as concerned about Randi as you are. But right now, I’m going to Vanderbilt.”

“But—”

His tone softened. “Hal’s here somewhere. Find him. He’ll know what to do. You stay put, and I’ll be in touch.” Noah leaned over and pecked her on the cheek. “Buck up, Randi’s going to be just fine and so are you.”

“Noah Howell!”

“Again, I’ll be in touch.”

Some time later, Noah raced through the doors of the emergency room, and, as he expected, the hospital was not only swamped, but chaos reigned. Phones were ringing. The skeleton staff was rushing around. And the emergency generator was acting like it didn’t want to work. If that son of a bitch went out…

Someone screamed in pain. In spite of himself, Noah winced. Times like this made him wish he’d chosen another profession, which was a lie, he told himself. Mending broken bodies was his specialty, and, though it was hard, he couldn’t think of anything else he’d rather do. Professionally, he was a savior.

Personally, he was one big screwup.

“Thank God you’re here, Noah,” Bethany Kent, an ER nurse said, her voice sounding strained to the max.

“Where to first?”

“Trauma two. It’s Friday night and two teenagers from a car accident were just wheeled in.”

“I need backup,” Noah said in a clipped tone. “Call Malcom Riley. Tell him to get here STAT.”

Bethany took double steps to keep up with him. “I’ve already tried, and I couldn’t get through.”

“Damn,” Noah said, his jaw knotted. “I’ll just have to do the best I can.”

“Well, you’re not here alone, thank goodness.”

“Considering this weather, that’s a miracle.” Noah never slowed down. “So who’s on staff this weekend?”

Bethany didn’t have to tell him. He looked up just as Amanda rounded the corner.

He stopped in his tracks, and so did she. For a split second, their eyes met. A pregnant silence that spoke volumes followed.

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Then he cleared his throat and whispered, “Hello, Amanda.”




Chapter Five


Noah wanted to kick someone, mostly himself.

Dammit, he hated being blindsided. That was exactly what had happened. Amanda. In the flesh. And looking lovelier than he’d ever seen her. He hadn’t expected this encounter, at least not tonight. But hell, he shouldn’t have been surprised. It had been more than a good possibility that she’d be on duty, even without the present crisis. After all, ER was her bailiwick.

Still, he had assumed that when this meeting occurred, it would be on his terms. So much for control, he thought, again mentally kicking his backside.

Although he didn’t take time to register the changes in her appearance, he knew his mind would later recall every detail. For now, he had to rally past the venom radiating from her crystal blue eyes, eyes that never failed to make him want to know what lurked behind them.

That hadn’t changed.

He cursed silently, just as she said in a terse tone, “Let’s get busy. We have work to do.”

Okay. Two could play that game. If she wanted to pretend they were strangers, that was fine. Besides, her strategy was best: two doctors working to save a patient’s life. In this case, there were two lives at stake.

“I’m right behind you,” Noah said in his own no-nonsense voice, having already assessed the situation in the trauma room.

Nurses Bethany Kent and Liz Roberts were busy working on the wreck victims, a boy and a girl, dressed in their Friday night finery. But there was no celebrating at this moment. The youth was moaning and the girl was crying. Both appeared critical and in pain.

“Were there only two in the car?” Amanda asked.

“Yes, Doctor,” Liz responded. “At least, in this car.”

“What does that—”

“Her pulse is dropping rapidly!” Liz said to Noah, chopping off his sentence.

But it was Amanda who answered her. “Give her five cc’s of Demerol. Then call surgery and tell them she’s on her way up. She’s bleeding internally.”

“What about the boy?” Noah asked, moving to him, then looking at Amanda, who stood on the other side of the gurney.

“His pulse is stable, and it appears his wounds are superficial, but we’ll know more when we get him cleaned up.”

“Let’s just hope you’re right.” Noah’s lips stretched into a thin line. “You’d think these kids would know better than to drink and drive on a night like this.”

Amanda shook her head. “It seems they never learn.”

“Anything I can do?”

Both Noah and Amanda looked up as Karen Sloane hurried through the door, her face pinched with concern. Noah knew why; she had an eight-year-old daughter who could one day be lying on a stretcher in the same shape as these teenagers.

“My God, what happened?” Karen asked, her gaze springing from one teenager to the other.

“Looks like they tried to take on a tree and lost. But then, I’m just guessing.”

Amanda looked up and focused on Karen. “Since things are covered in here, could you speak to the police officers? I presume they’re standing by.”

Blood, combined with the smell of alcohol, permeated the room. Noah’s stomach roiled at the stupidity of such actions, especially on a night like this. But it wasn’t his job to be judgmental—it was his job to repair the damage.

“Anything else?” Karen asked.

“Yes,” Amanda said. “Have someone notify their parents. Now.”

Karen turned on her heels and sped out of the room, just as the lights flickered.

Everyone in the room seemed to freeze.

“Dammit, if that generator fails—” Noah’s eyes focused on the light fixtures, as if daring them to blink again.

“Don’t even think about that,” Amanda said in a rushed tone. “If it happens, we’ll deal with it then.”

Always the practical, unflappable Amanda, Noah reminded himself, except in bed. Damn! That thought had hit him out of the blue, which not only shocked him but made him madder than hell. Now was not the time to think about anything other than the young lives hanging in the balance.

“So what’s your call on him, Amanda?” Noah’s tone was hard and low.

“Get some CT scans.”

“Go for it.”

“Dr. Howell! The girl’s crashing.”

“Dammit,” Noah whispered, then barked more orders before adding, “Come on, let’s get her up to surgery.”

“Good luck,” he heard Amanda say as he and Liz left the room.

An hour later, Noah peeled off his bloody gloves and greens, then walked into the waiting room. A middle-aged couple stood and made their way toward him, as if in slow motion.

The petite, dark-haired woman, whose eyes were filled with unshed tears, was the spitting image of her daughter, or she had been until the accident.

“We’re the Colliers, Doctor,” the man said, holding out his hand to Noah.

“Our daughter, Laura, is she—” Mrs. Collier’s voice faded into sobs.

Her husband circled her shoulders and drew her close to his side, but his gaze never left Noah.

“I won’t try and soft-pedal the seriousness of the situation, Mrs. Collier. At the moment, she’s critical but stable. For now, that’s the best we can hope for.”

“Oh, God,” she cried, slumping against her husband.

Noah gestured toward the couch. “Let’s sit down, then we’ll talk.”

“Is Laura going to die?” Mr. Collier asked once they were seated.

Noah sat on the edge of the chair. “I’m sorry, but I can’t make that call. She has a lot of internal bleeding and numerous broken bones.”

“May we see her?”

Noah stood. “Of course. I’ll arrange it.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Mr. Collier sighed. “I suppose the police will want to see us.”

“I would think so,” Noah said. Hoping to temper the stark, ugly reality, he added, “Remember, I’ll be around if you need me.”

He turned and made his way to his office, slamming the door behind him. He’d be lucky if he had five minutes to get a grip on himself. Already, he could hear another siren wail. Any second now, he’d be called again.

Meanwhile, he had to quell the urge to put his fist through one of the flimsy walls, venting his frustration. Some tragedies were unavoidable. But the accident involving those young people wasn’t one of them.

If Laura Collier made it through the night, she’d be one fortunate girl. More than likely she would not. Noah ground his teeth together while he rubbed the back of his neck, thinking about the devastation mirrored on the Colliers’ faces. God, he could identify with that kind of pain, and it wasn’t something he’d wish on his worst enemy.

With his thoughts veering into forbidden territory, he squeezed the back of his neck as though physical pain would obliterate the mental pain pounding his head.

The cot looked inviting as he forced his gaze onto something tangible. He was beat, but he’d have to forget about sleep and depend on coffee to keep him going. Anyway, who was he trying to kid? He could lie down, all right, but sleep would elude him; his demons would have a field day.

“Damn,” he muttered, hating it when he felt his control slipping. Peering at his watch, he hoped his mother was still at the lodge. In fact, he hoped she spent the night there, if they had the room. He hated the thought of her being on the road in this weather.

Unfortunately, he never knew which way Melissa was going to jump. One moment, she was a clinging vine who couldn’t do anything for herself. The next, she was as obstinate and unmovable as a block of cement. His father, who had died last year, had petted Melissa, encouraged her dependency.

Albert Howell, on his deathbed, had said, “Son, promise me my girls will never want for anything as long as you’re alive.”

His voice and body had been so weak from lying incapacitated for months with a dysfunctional heart, Noah had barely understood him.

“Dad—”

Albert’s clawlike fingers had clutched his arm, his eyes glazed with fear and pain. “Promise me.”

“Of course I’ll take care of them. You know that.”

Shortly after Noah had made that promise, his father had passed away. His mother, however, had made his good intentions difficult. She could be a royal pain in the butt with her penchant for living the good life, having put pressure for years on Albert to give her “things” when his job as a mechanic didn’t warrant that life-style.

Noah, to some extent, had continued to indulge his mother and his sister monetarily. That way he could remain aloof emotionally. Still, he cared deeply about them both.

Thinking about Randi jerked the knot in his stomach tighter. Where the hell had she gone? He had to believe she simply couldn’t handle marrying Hal and took off. But then again, where could she disappear to on this horrible night? He tried her phone again. Straight to voicemail.

Taking such a bold move was not like Randi. Now, if he, Noah, had pulled that stunt, no one would’ve been surprised. While he considered himself responsible—had to be when he held a scalpel in his hand—he was a gambler who wasn’t afraid to take chances.

Randi was not like that. His domineering and manipulative mother knew how to pull his sister’s chain and did it quite often, despite the fact that Randi was no social climber and was constantly torn between pleasing her mother and pleasing herself.

Noah refused to be put on that hot seat, which drove Melissa to distraction. And yet he loved his mother and would do what he could for her, short of letting her dominate him.

He shifted his gaze to his phone, his gut telling him he should check in with Melissa to see if Randi had been found. He was both worried and annoyed that she’d pulled such a stunt. Regardless of the situation between Randi and his mother, Melissa didn’t deserve this kind of treatment.

Perhaps he should return to the lodge. But he couldn’t. Hell, he was the only surgeon in the building, and he wouldn’t be surprised if that young wreck victim didn’t require a second surgery.

Still, Noah felt torn between his family and his job, something that didn’t set well with him. Something else that didn’t set well with him was having to work with Amanda.

Noah pulled a long face. Damn, she’d been uptight. No, she’d been downright hostile. Even now, he could feel the hostility stab him.

“What did you expect, Howell,” he grumbled out loud, “a hug around the neck?” Sure thing, he thought with a laugh that held no mirth. She’d like nothing better than to squash him like a poisonous varmint. And well she should. Whatever she dished out, he had coming.

However, that environment didn’t bode well for their working together. But who had a choice? They certainly didn’t, not when the entire town threatened to capsize under so much water and a damn blackout to boot, thereby creating a situation where other surgeons couldn’t get to the hospital.

Still, the bottom line was that seeing Amanda had been an unexpected kick in the gut. What they had between them was dead. He’d seen to that, and he’d thought he’d made peace with that conclusion. But when she’d looked at him as though he wasn’t there, it had needled him.

And her perfume. God, he’d smelled it, and his senses had gone wild. It was the same scent that had never failed to turn him on, especially when he’d known he would soon taste its bittersweetness on her skin.

“Man, get a grip,” Noah spat out, his rough voice bouncing off the walls.

What was done was done. Or was it? That question punched him in the gut again, especially as she still had the power to stir him sexually. Though he was ashamed to admit it, he’d reacted immediately, thankful that his baggy greens had hidden the bulge underneath.

When he’d first taken serious note of Amanda, he had been in a relationship, though not a serious one—at least not from his standpoint. Immediately, he had ended the affair and begun seeing Amanda, having fallen hard and fast, especially in light of her indifference to him, something that hadn’t been the norm.

He’d ached to find out what lurked behind Amanda’s secretive eyes and explore the delights of her dynamite body. And he had. For the first time in his life, he’d fallen in love. Then the bottom dropped out of his world, forcing him to walk out on Amanda and his commitment to her without an explanation.

He had no regrets on that score. He had been trying to protect her. It had been imperative that she hate him so that she could go on with her life, for there had been no way out for him.

That hadn’t changed, at least not for him and Amanda. His phone rang, interrupting his thought. This was the only time he was grateful for this storm. There was still cell service—for the moment. He took a deep breath and thanked God for small favors.

Work was his panacea.




Chapter Six


“Hey, Doc, I’m bleedin’ like a stuck pig.”

Amanda rolled her eyes at the patient’s analogy, though she couldn’t stop a smile from relaxing her tired features. “Right, Mr. Osburn. But hopefully we’ll have you fixed up in no time.”

Frank Osburn, a rough-looking logger who lived in a trailer up in the mountains, had had a physical altercation with his wife. Unfortunately, he’d come out on the short end of the ordeal.

“You’re lucky you’re not in surgery about now. As is, you’re only suffering from a scalp wound.”

“If that’s so, Doc, why did I bleed all over creation?”

“Head wounds often do that, Mr. Osburn.”

He cut his eyes to Liz Roberts, the buxom, gray-headed nurse who was aiding Amanda. “That so?”

Amanda met Liz’s green eyes over the man’s head, and they both smiled. “Of course she’s right. She’s the doctor.”

“That don’t make her right,” he retorted. “In fact, I don’t care much for women doctors.”

“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way,” Amanda said, not in the least sorry, “but you’re stuck with me.”

“On a night like this,” Liz added, “you should be grateful someone’s available to help you.”

He snorted, then rubbed his beard, a beard that Amanda thought looked as if it had never been washed. She bet it had lice in it. She raised a silent toast to the person who invented gloves.

“How much longer, Doc?” he asked, beginning to squirm.

“Please, don’t move,” Amanda responded, taking another meticulous stitch in the deep gash above his left eye.

“Ouch!”

“Sorry, but that beer bottle—”

“Beer bottle, hell!” he cut in, his whiskey voice lowered to an even rougher pitch. “It was the damn woman who hit me. Why, she weighs more than I do and is stronger.”

Amanda quelled her urge to give him a gash over the other eye. This brute of a man probably deserved what he got, but judging those whom she administered to didn’t fall under her job description. Besides, she knew the man was in real pain. If the cut had been any deeper, he’d be upstairs in Noah’s care.

Noah.

Her body tensed, and for a second, her hand stopped in midaction, which instantly garnered a puzzled look from the nurse. Amanda couldn’t allow herself to step into that hole. Further thoughts of Dr. Howell were definitely taboo.

Anyway, who had time to dwell on personal issues? She certainly didn’t, not tonight, not when the whole town was in crisis. The weather was worsening along with the emergencies at Vanderbilt. The care and responsibility of the ER fell to her and Dr. Sloane.

The radio announcers were reiterating what the police had said, encouraging people to stay indoors, not to venture out unless it was absolutely necessary. So much for cooperation, Amanda thought, as this man had been boozing it up in a bar.

“All finished, Mr. Osburn.”

“‘Bout time,” he mumbled, reaching up to the bandage, only to drop his hand quickly. “Damn, that hurt!”

“I’ll write you a prescription for pain. In a few days, you’ll need to see your doctor.”

“Ain’t got no doctor.”

“Come back in two weeks, and I’ll take the stitches out.”

He muttered something else under his breath, then slid off the table and shuffled out of the room, just as the wail of a siren sounded close by.

“Do you think this night’ll ever end?” Liz asked, her forehead creased in a frown.

Amanda shook her head. “Doesn’t look like it. Even as we speak, another ambulance just pulled up.”

“Well, you just let me see what’s going on. If I need help, I’ll get Beth. Meanwhile, take a break and put on a clean coat. That creep was right. He did bleed like a stuck pig.”

“Thanks, Liz. But this is not all that creep’s blood.”

“Ah, right,” Liz remarked in a sober tone. “You worked on those kids.”

Amanda’s mouth turned down. “I hope the girl pulls through. Which reminds me, I should check on the boy.”

“He’s doing fine. In fact, Karen said his parents might even be able to take him home.”

“If they can get here.”

Liz frowned again. “Isn’t that the truth? I’ve never seen weather like this in all my fifty-five years.”

“Me, neither.”

“But then, you’re not fifty-five.” Liz smiled.

“Maybe not in years,” Amanda said, “but miles—now, that’s a different story.”

“Go on, get out of here,” Liz ordered. “If you’re needed, you know I’ll call or text you.”

Amanda smiled briefly, then headed for the door. “I’ll be in the lounge.”

Ten minutes later, she had slipped into a clean lab coat and was sipping on a canned soda that the machine had spit out. She’d thought about munching on a package of cheese and crackers, but she didn’t think her stomach would take them. Although she was hungry, having skipped dinner, food was the last thing she wanted. What she did want was this nightmare of a storm to end and things to settle back to normal.

More than even that, she wanted to pretend she hadn’t seen Noah. But she had, and apparently he was there to stay, in the flesh, better-looking than even she had remembered, though she didn’t see how that could be possible.

What was possible was that in the few seconds when he’d said, “Hello, Amanda,” the new life she’d made for herself seemed perilously close to crashing around her.

Tunneling her free hand through her silky blond strands, Amanda sat on the sofa, only to find no solace for her body or her mind. Seconds later she lurched to her feet as another crack of thunder shook the building. And the lights.

“Please, dear Lord, don’t let the generator go out,” she whispered, beginning to pace.

She knew she should check on the Collier girl. Was she still in surgery? Whatever the case, she was in the best hands, literally. No matter how she felt about Noah personally, professionally he was the best surgeon in the hospital.

Even with that gifted ability, Amanda wasn’t sure he could pull off the miracle of saving that girl, not when she had been injured so badly internally.

Amanda shivered, not from the temperature but from the impossible situation. She couldn’t solve all the world’s problems. Her hang-up with the Collier girl was that she’d been responsible for three kids for so long she couldn’t seem to let go.

When it came to Noah, she fared no better. She didn’t want to work with him. She didn’t want to be in the same room with him, for heaven’s sake! Staring at him across a gurney, even after all those months, had resurrected a myriad of hard-hitting emotions: anxiety, fear, apprehension, to name a few.

But it was the base instincts that infuriated her. She had been helpless in preventing her palms from growing moist—not due to the gloves, either. Or keeping beads of sweat from gathering between her breasts—not due to her bra, either.

Again, their unexpected encounter had left her totally splattered, something, quite frankly, she hadn’t expected. But his well-honed body had looked so masculine, and familiar, and good that she had felt the floor shift under her feet. And when their eyes met, the bottom had dropped out of her stomach. Even worse had been watching his hands—hands that had explored every inch of her body—touch the patient.

She ridiculed herself for that reaction. Where the hell was her pride? At the moment, in tatters. Yet, she refused to be duped again by his moody good looks and strong sexual pull.

Anyway, she had Gordon, a fact that brought her immediate comfort. Maybe he wasn’t as charismatic or as exciting, but who needed those? Gordon was loyal and dependable—Noah was neither.

Nor was he stable. Maybe someone else would take issue with that statement, but she knew better. A stable person wouldn’t have pulled the stunt he did. And stability meant everything. She’d already had enough discord in her life to last a lifetime.

Her goal of easing into private practice seemed more inviting than ever. Amanda’s mouth took on a sullen slant. However, she didn’t intend to let Noah know that. While she would continue to avoid him, she wouldn’t be intimidated.

She’d just do what she’d done earlier—pretend he didn’t matter.

“Lordy, I can’t believe you’re here, much less alone.”

Amanda’s Coke sloshed onto her white coat, and she groaned. Then she turned and glared at her friend, Doris Conner, director of Physical Therapy.

Doris was petite with dark hair and eyes that narrowed when she grinned. And she grinned a lot. Amanda thought she looked like a fragile doll, although there was nothing fragile about her personality or her ability.

“See what you made me do?”

Doris chuckled, then flinched as another bout of lightning and thunder assaulted the premises. “Damn, is this the end of the world, or what?”

Amanda didn’t bother to reply. Instead, she just shook her head and smiled, wondering what she would’ve done if she hadn’t had Doris’s shoulder to cry on, literally, after Noah left her. They became friends a week after Amanda had come to work at Vanderbilt, and their friendship had continued to grow.

Doris, who was originally from Texas, had hit the hospital like a small hurricane, Texas twang and all. Amanda loved to hear her talk, for some of her expressions were priceless. She was engaged to a nifty guy, who, thank goodness, knew what a treasure he had.

“How come you’re still here?” Amanda asked at last.

Doris plopped down on the sofa. “Are you kidding? Charley told me to stay put, that I shouldn’t even think of trying to drive home in this mess.”

“He’s right, you know. No telling how many streets are flooded.”

“So how about you?” Doris pinched the bridge of her nose. “When are you getting off?”

“Never.”

“I hear you.”

“In fact, I’m amazed my phone isn’t screeching even as we speak.”

“Give it time,” Doris said drolly.

There was a moment of silence, then Doris spoke again. “So how was it?”

“It what?” Amanda responded, feigning innocence, unwilling to reopen that can of worms. But she knew how tenacious her friend was. She wouldn’t give up without a fight.

“Cut the nonsense, okay?”

“I wanted to slug him. Now, are you happy?”

Doris grinned. “Yeah! If it’s the truth.”

“Actually, seeing Noah was no big deal,” Amanda lied, but in what she hoped was a convincing tone. She couldn’t bring herself to mention her initial reaction to Noah, not even to Doris. After what he’d put her through, it was too humiliating.




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/mary-baxter-lynn/lightning-strikes/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.