A Soldier's Reunion
Cheryl Wyatt
Despite a decade apart, this isn't the reunion Mandy Manchester expected!She thought she'd put high school sweetheart Nolan Briggs behind her. Now he's back…and the pararescue jumper literally sweeps her off her feet. He's ready and willing to rekindle what they once shared.Mandy, though, isn't prepared to put her heart at risk. He left her before–she won't trust him again. Can Nolan teach this grounded girl to take a leap of faith?
Not possible. Can’t be him. Can it?
Warmth radiated from a presence behind her. She inhaled deeply and forced the shock from her face. She used every ounce of strength to slowly turn around.
The instant his eyes lit on her face, his mouth slid open.
He stared.
Mandy stared.
Though his impressive frame was that of a man instead of a boy now, she’d know him anywhere.
“Nolan?” She hated the breathlessness in her voice. Despised the tears stinging at the sight of him. The welcome sight.
No.
Only because he’s rescuing you. Not because he’s Nolan, the only man you’ve ever loved.
Eyes as kind as she remembered explored her face. He seemed unable to speak for a moment. Or blink.
“Manda Panda?” It came out as a whisper.
The spoken name shot pain through her heart.
She didn’t want to hear it. No one had the right to call her that anymore. Especially not him.
CHERYL WYATT
An RN turned stay-at-home mom and wife, Cheryl delights in the stolen moments God gives her to write faith-driven action and romance. She stays active in her church and in her laundry room. She’s convinced that having been born on a naval base on Valentine’s Day destined her to write military romance. A native of San Diego, California, Cheryl currently resides in beautiful, rustic Southern Illinois, but has also enjoyed living in New Mexico and Oklahoma. Cheryl loves hearing from readers. You are invited to contact her at Cheryl@CherylWyatt.com or P.O. Box 2955 Carbondale, IL 62902-2955. Visit her on the Web at www.CherylWyatt.com and sign up for her newsletter if you’d like updates on new releases, events and other fun stuff. Hang out with her in the blogosphere at www.Scrollsquirrel.blogspot.com or on the message boards at www.SteepleHill.com.
A Soldier’s Reunion
Cheryl Wyatt
In his heart a man plans his course,
but the Lord determines his steps.
—Proverbs 16:9
To my critique partners and prayer sisters:
Pamela James, Cynthia Hawkins, Michelle Rogers,
Danica Favorite-McDonald, Camy Tang,
Robin Miller. I am thankful for your honest
assessments and encouragement. Can’t wait until
we all share shelf-space.
To my parents, Bill and Lois Blankenship. I
struggle to craft characters with traumatic pasts
and dysfunctional families because I was so
fortunate to have been born to the two of you. you
have encouraged every step of my journey and
championed my dreams. I love you and know you
love me.
To Melissa, Krista, Sarah, Joan and the Harlequin
team for making my books shelf-worthy. You are
incredibly talented.
To God, thank You for reuniting us when we stray.
That you are a God who chases is amazing. Thank
You for getting me through the bumps in this
story’s road.
To Billy, my personal hero, for filling our home
with hilarity and for being so laid-back you’re
horizontal when the house goes askew under
deadlines.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Questions for Discussion
Chapter One
“Briggs, phone! Chief Petrowski’s on the line. Says it’s beyond urgent.”
U.S. Air Force Pararescue Jumper Nolan Briggs rushed past teammates Brock Drake and Vince Reardon, who stopped rigging parachutes and looked up. The airmen grew sniper-still and spotter-alert as did the other PJs in Refuge, Illinois’s skydiving Drop Zone facility.
Nolan grabbed the DZ phone from teammate Chance Garrison. “Briggs speaking.”
“Nolan, I’m tasking your team to a major bridge collapse.”
Nolan pressed the phone tighter against his ear and processed Petrowski’s words wafting across the line. “Major bridge collapse? Where?” Adrenaline pumping, Nolan eyed his teammates.
They stood at his words and marched close in listen-mode.
“Reunion Bridge over Refuge River—hold on,” Petrowski said.
“Refuge.” Nolan hiked his chin to his team while on hold.
The room erupted in activity as airmen grabbed gear.
Nolan had been placed in temporary command while PJ team leader Joel Montgomery traveled abroad with his wife to meet children they were adopting. Second-in-command, Manny Péna, was in surgery to remove pins, following a two-year-old injury incurred during a skydiving accident.
Nolan yanked a notebook from PJ Ben Dillinger’s pocket. As Petrowski, back on the line, talked about the rescue mission, Nolan scribbled information.
Stiffening beside Nolan, Ben straightened. “Hey, babe,” he called for his fiancée, Amelia, near the round tables across the room. She approached, Ben’s brother Hutton following, his Mosaic Down Syndrome causing his eager feet to shuffle.
“Didn’t Reece have a field trip today, across the bridge at the museum?” Ben said of his stepdaughter-to-be as he grabbed Amelia’s hand.
“Yes.” She scanned the note. Her face turned pasty. “Th-they would have been on the way back. P-probably on the bridge.”
Arms numbing, Nolan tightened his grip on the phone as he observed Ben and Amelia. Dread pounded through his body, incinerating the lining of his gut.
The room stilled as implications of Amelia’s words sank in. Ben’s arms steadied her. “Don’t panic. We don’t know for sure she was on the bridge when it went.”
“What if she was?” Amelia, trembling, slid to a chair.
Nolan squeezed Amelia’s shoulder with his free hand. “We’ll handle it. Okay? I guarantee Refuge divers are already there.”
Amelia managed a catatonic nod. Ben searched Nolan’s face. The only other time Nolan had seen Ben look this rattled was when his father passed away last year.
Nolan leaned close to Ben. “Stay with her ’til you hear from me.”
Blinking rapidly, Ben looked torn. “We’re already two men short. If I don’t go, that puts you at only four.”
“We’ll make do. I can use you here for now. Run the command post. Once we see Reece is okay, you can join us on the bridge.”
Ben gave a short nod. “I’ll call the church. Tell folks to pray. Refuge hasn’t experienced anything like this in its history that I’m aware of. And we don’t know who all was on that bridge…” Ben’s composure faltered.
Nolan knew Ben loved little Reece as though she were his.
“Don’t buckle, Dillinger. Keep your head. Make sure our airmen’s families are accounted for. Have everyone wait here at the DZ or Refuge B and B. Cell and landlines will be jammed from mass calls going in and out.”
Nodding, Ben slipped a bronze arm around his wife-to-be.
Shoulders hunched, Hutton chewed his tongue and blinked close-set eyes while shuffling near. “I praying too, Benny.”
“Thanks, buddy.” Ben hugged his brother, then faced Nolan. “Can we load? I’ll help with that at least.”
Nolan covered the phone and nodded.
Two minutes later, gear in arms and courage in their steps, the PJs were out the door.
The harrowing look in Ben’s eyes echoed the sentiment screaming through Nolan’s mind: had Reece been on that bridge when it collapsed?
“How bad is it?” Nolan asked Petrowski as they sprinted to the waiting chopper minutes later.
“Pretty bad.” Aaron Petrowski, commanding officer of their team plus two others, answered above rotor noise. “Bridge collapsed in a V.” Aaron heaved an extraction basket hoist into the craft. “Expecting mass casualties if we can’t get those people off.”
Nolan paced his breathing as he tossed heavy medical packs into the belly of the bird. Diving gear and rescue equipment loaded, Nolan climbed in, followed by his other three teammates.
Petrowski hunkered in and faced the opening. “Where’s Ben?”
“Tell you in a minute. What else?” Nolan signaled the pilot to take them up.
Petrowski studied him. “There’s a flammable tanker about to boil from flaming cars. If heat expands it, she’ll blow.”
“Cars near enough to ignite it should something spark?” Nolan asked above howling wind as the chopper lifted.
“Yes. Unfortunately, so is an elementary school bus.”
Vince swore softly.
Pulse kicking, Nolan’s gut clenched. “Full of little kids?”
Petrowski nodded. “On their way back from a field trip.”
Nolan’s stomach hollowed. “The reason I had Ben stay behind for now is because his stepdaughter-to-be might be on that bus.”
Petrowski’s head jerked around. “You serious? Little Reece?”
Anxiety for Ben and Amelia fought for rabid hold but Nolan steadied himself. “Yeah.”
As if their team hadn’t already been under enough pressure with the possibility of Nolan being plucked from it. No one voiced it, but everyone felt it. Any mission, starting with this one, could be Nolan’s last with the team, thanks to superiors wanting to use him elsewhere.
Sighing, Petrowski slid a hand over his silvery-blond buzz. “News air surveillance report a dozen children are on it.”
“Can we have the news chopper megaphone them off the bus?”
Petrowski stretched out his legs. “Problem with that is there’s no place safe for them to go should the tanker blow. Unless all the cars burn themselves out, that’s a mammoth possibility.”
Brock’s head tilted toward Nolan and Petrowski. “Plan?”
Paper spread over the floor, Nolan diagrammed. “Lift kids in rescue baskets here. Two pararescuemen per litter. Work fast.”
“So, what exactly happened? Any word on that?” Brock shifted closer to hear over the chopper blades whipping air. The Pave Low’s engine noises gurgled up the southern Illinois sky.
“A small aircraft flew into the support beams near where the bridge connects to land,” Nolan answered.
“Steel beams are bending under the pressure. Concrete’s crumbling. Engineers at the scene say the bridge is tilting an inch every five minutes. Any second, the rest could give way. At this time nothing short of prayers will brace up that bridge.”
He eyed the team. “Refuge divers got to most cars that slipped into the water and helped people out that could be.”
“And those that couldn’t?” Nolan asked.
“Couldn’t be helped.” A grim cloud camouflaged Petrowski’s face.
“I hope someone has the sensibility to get the kids off the bus. Though the tanker’s volatile, they probably have a better chance off than on. Even minor shifts could hasten its plunge,” Nolan said.
Petrowski brushed a hand over his forehead. “Worse thing they could do is get off then back on the bus for any reason.” He eyed Nolan. “Pray the bridge holds until we get there. Can’t land a chopper on it, so we’ll rappel rigs in teams of two.”
Nolan ignored Vince’s smirk at Petrowski’s praying comment. Team brotherhood was stronger than personal feelings.
Once they hit the bridge, everyone would be about the mission.
Screams of a dozen children drifted through the smoke and clamored for Mandy Manchester’s attention.
Disregarding her own pain and fear, she scrambled through mazes of twisted metal, forcing her feet across puddles of burning gasoline. “M-must get to them. Please help me.”
But who was listening? No one. Not for a long time.
Today, today please hear me—for them.
Determination compelled her beyond an overturned truck. Its driver lifted himself from the cab. He’d be okay, she decided as she ran past. The dawning sight of a crumpled orange school bus clenched her stomach.
Using her uninjured hand, she pried open the door. Fought to cover her mouth at the sight of the driver’s forehead, lacerated like the interstate. She was a doctor-in-training! Think she’d have learned to control outward reactions by now. She rushed to press his shirt hem to the angry knot.
“Be okay. Just a little bump,” he slurred.
Little? Hardly. “Hold pressure here. Don’t let up, okay?” She spoke in calm tones but a take-charge voice. He’d need at least five stitches. So would she, but who was counting?
“I’m a doctor. Who’s hurt the most?” Mandy moved on to two adults who identified themselves as teachers. One rested a hand on the other, slumped over.
“Her neck hurts.” She peered at Mandy with wide eyes.
“Hold her neck like this and keep it still. Carefully walk her to an area where you’ll be seen by First Responders.” Mandy demonstrated by placing the teacher’s hand on her cohort’s neck and jaw. She helped them outside before returning to the mounting pandemonium on the bus, which leaned so far left it felt like it would soon topple over the gaping bridge.
Something inside her screamed to get these children out. Triage training kicking in, she maneuvered down the aisle. Even with careful movement, the bus shifted several inches. Screams cut the air in tones resembling ambulance sirens.
Halted and heart pounding, Mandy grasped a green spongy seat with her good hand. She faced the tousled group.
Several frightened eyes stared back.
“Is anyone hurt bad enough they can’t walk?” At her voice, hysteria hushed to whimpers.
A dozen little heads looked at themselves, then all around. Disheveled hair shook and tiny trembling mouths warbled, “No.”
“This is terrible and scary, I know. But we’re going to get you to safety, okay?” One by one, Mandy took the hands of the littlest ones and matched them with those of an older child.
“Let’s make a game of it. Like a reverse Noah’s ark. Two-by-two.” She ushered each duo out the doors. Once all visible children were off the bus, Mandy directed them to the safest-looking intact portion of the bridge.
Surely authorities knew by now it had collapsed. Surely they knew, and help would be here soon. Though it seemed an hour had passed already, probably only minutes had.
After triple checking over every seat of the bus for unconscious children, Mandy helped the driver off. She assisted him to lie down flat near the teachers and joined the huddle of traumatized children.
“H-how will we get off the bridge?” One little girl eyed their surroundings. Burning cars looked to be melting into the kind of tanker that transported flammable gas. It blocked one exit. A gaping hole the size of Refuge Memorial’s pediatric ward blocked the other.
She faced the trembling child. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“J-Jayna.”
“I’m Mandy. I’m training to be a doctor. What do you want to be when you grow up?”
“A-a teacher.”
“Good choice. I want you to think about how you would decorate your very first classroom, okay? Think about it really hard. Then I want you to tell me all about it once we get off this bridge. Okay? I’ll want every little detail.”
Jayna nodded vigorously, eyes still big with fear.
One boy stepped forth. “I wanna be a fireman. They help people.” He took the little girl’s hand. “Especially people who are very frightened.”
Mandy smiled. “What’s your name?”
“Caden,” the boy said.
“Caden, you’ll make a grand fire chief some day.”
Please let them live to fulfill their destinies.
“Are there people in the cars?” Jayna’s voice escalated.
“No. Thankfully, it looks like everyone escaped before the cars caught fire.” Mandy pointed up the bridge. “See? All those people huddling together? They can’t get to us, but they’ll keep each other calm. That’s what I need you to do, too, okay?”
Caden leaned nose to nose with Jayna. “Yeah. We gotta get as brave as the big people. Can ya?”
She nodded and swiped a finger across her nose.
Another girl in a glittery “Princess” logoed shirt moved close and handed Jayna a tattered brown bear. “Here. Bearby will make you brave.”
Mandy’s heart melted at the little child with teddy-bear-big eyes who looked like she longed to snatch the well-used toy back for herself. “That was nice, sweetie. What’s your name?” Mandy asked the girl who clasped Jayna’s other hand.
“Reece North. And I want to be a famous rock star with big pink glasses and diva rhinestones when I grow up.”
Smiling, Mandy faced the others. “Caden is right. Think you can be that brave?” A bouquet of miniature heads nodded.
Except one. “I got asthma. Smoke makes it hard to breathe.” He audibly wheezed. But his color seemed okay. For now.
Mandy pulled him close. “Do you have your inhaler?”
His arms clasped her neck. “On the bus. I think.”
“My face feels sunburned,” another child said. Mandy noticed. All their cheeks resembled rubies from fire heat. She eyed the bus. Maybe it would be better, safer to get them back on. That way, she’d have the inhaler should the little guy’s asthma kick in. Plus, they’d be more shielded from smoke. Then if the tanker exploded, they might be protected from the blast and debris.
Or, putting them back on the bus could help them to die in one unit. Dread sickened her at the thought that any decision she made might hasten the manner of their deaths.
Drowning or burning. Which was worse?
Please show me what to do. I don’t know what to do. I just know I don’t want them to die.
“H-how will we get off the bridge?” Jayna persisted.
“Experts will know whom to send and what to do.” She’d been in Refuge long enough to know its townsfolk would pull together and rise above this epic tragedy.
“I want my mommy!”
“How will Daddy find me?”
“Who will come for us?” Jayna persisted.
Mandy tugged as many of them close as would fit, even though it hurt like mad to move her hand. The others huddled in, looking at her like she was their one and only lifeline.
They’re looking to me. But it has to be You. Send help. Hold up this bridge, and hold down the fires.
Peace she hadn’t felt in a decade befell her. Thankful He’d heard, and confident He’d act, she met each child’s frightened gaze. Then smiled into each face, using her eyes and—okay, mental prayers—to infuse courage, instill hope and inject calm.
“Someone strong and brave will come. I promise. Someone who rescues people all the time.”
“Who?” Jayna’s voice persisted. “Who will come rescue us?”
Mandy looked square into two frightened, tearful eyes and said with calm assurance, “Only the best.”
“There it is.” Nolan observed the unimaginable chaos. His pulse ramped at the surreal devastation.
“Whoa!” Chance’s mouth hung open. The team stood as one unit, observing the collapse from the air.
Vince inclined his torso. “Unbelievable.”
“Weird to see steel and a slab of concrete we’ve driven over time and time again…” Brock shook his head. “Just—gone.”
“Okay, guys. Gear up.” Nolan grabbed his stuff and lined up at the door. If he was gonna lead his team, he was gonna lead them. Joel was the kind of commander who hit the trenches alongside his men. Nolan would follow Joel’s stellar example of being both a humble servant and a confident leader.
As if reading his mind, Petrowski leaned over. “Being Tech Sergeant in charge, you don’t have to go, Briggs.”
“With all due respect sir, if my brothers are gonna be in harm’s way, I’m gonna be in it as well.” Wasn’t that what their creed was about? “So others may live?” Even at the risk of losing their own lives for people who may never know it?
Petrowski nodded. “Then if I can remember how to perform rescues with a hoist basket without plunging to my death, I’ll be there too.”
Vince laughed. “You’ve been sitting behind a desk rescuing your solitaire games too long is my bet.”
Petrowski’s laugh infiltrated the air. A sound seldom heard the past couple years. “Not solitaire. FreeCell. It’d do me good to get back in the real game. With you guys.”
Heavy silence ensued as the men tossed glances of respect toward Petrowski. He’d lost his wife tragically two years ago and hadn’t been on the field since. He’d taken time off to regroup and be there for his boys. No one blamed the new widower and suddenly single parent of twin babies for backing out of the dangers that came with pararescue.
Now, Petrowski was trying to do everything in his power to keep Nolan on the team. And that meant coming back.
“We can manage without you. Your call, though,” Nolan said.
“Real question is, could you manage with me faster?”
Nolan tossed him rope and a set of gloves. “Absolutely.”
Petrowski donned the gear. “Let me brief the pilots and Central Command, and I’ll be down there.”
They secured headsets, by which they’d communicate. Test clicks sounded. His team would work together like a well-oiled machine gun. Rapid. Precise. Ready for any complication. And, as with any mission, there’d be at least one.
“Showtime. Let’s go.” Nolan stepped over the edge. Pave Low hovering above, the team, stringed like black beads on a silver strand, hoisted to the barely-there bridge. Once flat-booted on it, they circled their temporary leader for instructions, then commenced duty.
A barge with firemen and trucks extinguished blazes and sprayed cooling chemicals on the tanker. Nolan quickly cleared his area. Near the checkpoint, he found Vince and Petrowski.
“River Guard divers have it under control there.” Vince scanned the water. “I’m hanging back to be sure though.”
“Aaron and I are heading to the other side to make sure they got all the kids to safety. Meet us at the DZ debrief later.”
Vince gave a thumbs-up symbol. Nolan signaled the pilots to drop hoist ropes. He locked his legs around it and held on as it went airborne, dangling Nolan and Aaron across the chasm of destruction. Closer, Nolan peered through high-powered military binoculars at the remnant of people.
His eyes lit on one, surrounded by a handful of children. He blinked. Nearly slipped. He tightened his grip on the binoculars. Shock jolted through him.
Mandy? Memories assaulted him.
The woman looked exactly like his high school sweetheart. The one his dreams had never let him release. The one no other woman competed with in his heart. Looks like her but it can’t be, his mind mumbled, fumbled with the possibilities of this happening. She looked familiar enough to elicit an old ache. Yet different enough for doubt to detonate the crazy notion.
His Mandy smiled more. This woman’s frown seemed set in stone and engraved on her face.
Except when she tended to a huddle of children. The granite softened. Granted, she’d just been in probably the most harrowing ordeal of her life. But the underlying sadness cloaking her face was different. The longevity of lines pulling her mouth into a frown had been there awhile. A long while. Like she hadn’t smiled in forever.
The helicopter hovered near the split. The pilot lowered Nolan directly above where tons of concrete entombed cars…and people so he could call an “all clear” of the area. His soles brushed the broken bridge. The broken bridge brushed his soul. He let go of the hoist and unclamped the safety latch. Pausing to wait for Aaron, Nolan scanned the shredded waterway for the woman he’d seen from the air.
The woman who looked like Mandy. Good, they’d gotten her, the teachers and remaining children off the bridge. After calling “all clear” into his headset, he signaled the pilot to take him to the drop point, a nearby parking lot.
Once down, he jogged over. Awesome. All the children looked uninjured. She talked while assessing them. Her voice was as he remembered. Deeper maybe. Dark hair escaped a frazzled twist at her neck. Her hand patted it, her efforts only loosening hair from the stylish utensil holding it. Nolan smiled. Until he saw her other hand. The left angle indicated fracture. Yet she worried with her hair. Typical Mandy. If this was indeed her. Only one way to find out.
He nodded to the child she faced and approached her from the back. Petrowski strode past to where Chance knelt, securing a respiratory mask to a wheezing child while Brock held him.
“How’s it going over here?” Nolan asked.
The woman jerked at his voice. Had to be her. Only one way to be sure.
Nolan spoke their secret code.
Chapter Two
“Manda Panda,” a voice said softly behind her.
Mandy’s spine stiffened. Children giggled. She froze. Military-buzzed heads lifted to stare.
Again, the voice from moments before, and years before, suctioned the last pocket of air from her lungs.
No one had called her that in ten years. Ten.
Not possible. Can’t be him. Can it?
Warmth radiated from a presence behind her. Slightly ragged breathing. Maybe hers and not his. Hard to tell. She felt like she orbited in a pre-surgical anesthesia vortex all of a sudden. She inhaled deep, cleansing breaths and forced the shock from her face and neck. She used every ounce of strength to slowly turn around.
The instant his eyes lit on her face, his mouth slid open.
He stared.
Mandy stared.
Though he was more filled out and his impressive frame was that of a man instead of a boy now, she’d know him anywhere.
“Nolan?” He had to notice her voice sounded like a ventilator gone bad. She hated the breathlessness. Despised the tears stinging at the sight of him. The welcome sight.
No.
Only because he’s a rescuer. Not because he’s Nolan, the only man you’ve ever loved.
Eyes as kind as she remembered explored first her face, then her body, but not in a sensual way. He seemed unable to speak for a moment. Or blink.
“Manda Panda?” It awed out as a whisper.
The spoken name streaked emotional pain through her.
She didn’t want to hear it. No one had the right to call her that anymore. Especially not him.
She lifted her chin. “Mandy.” She hadn’t meant it to be so curt.
Hurt fluttered in his eyes. Then confusion. Disappointment. Concern. Maybe even a little irritation.
He stepped toward her. Ran a hand over his dark-blondish buzz and left it there as he took another slow step. He blew out a forever breath. “I can’t believe it’s you.”
He didn’t blink or take his eyes off her. His gaze reached her hand. “You’re hurt.” He took another step toward her.
Her muscles stiffened. Cold. Be cold. This is the man who broke your heart and never looked back. Never called, never—
She stood rigidly and lifted her shoulders. The way she did when she wanted to look in control, in charge, and professional at the hospital. When she called a cardiac arrest code and needed family and nurses carrying her out her lifesaving orders to believe she knew exactly what she was doing. Though she might be scared crazy. No one else needed to sense the emotion inside. Things went better for everyone that way.
He glanced around. “All children were removed okay?”
She blinked. “Children?”
He motioned a vague hand toward the bridge.
Heat rushed her face. “Oh. Yes. Yes.” She nodded at his uniform…that he more than sufficiently filled out. “Men, dressed like you, lifted them in baskets to helicopters.” She tried not to stare like a dolt. He really could be a poster boy for a military exercise regimen. Gone were those lanky arms and chicken legs she used to tease him about.
She tried to ignore how strong and eerily familiar he felt as he guided her to sit on a padded cooler full of ice and water bottles. His team had lowered it from a helicopter after rescuing everyone from the bridge.
His gaze danced down her face and lit on her neck. His jaw slackened. Lines around his eyes creased as he leaned in.
The panda necklace! That he’d given her at age sixteen. So you’ll never forget me, he’d said.
Her hand snaked up to clench it. Too late. He’d seen.
Surprise glittered over his face. “You still have it.” It came out more like a statement of disbelief than a query.
Not wanting to look like an idiot, Mandy slipped her hand from it. “It softens the children toward me in the hospital, makes them less afraid.”
As if sensing her discomfort—and her omission of the main reason she couldn’t take it off—he politely averted his gaze.
She tried not to look at his left ring finger, though it called to her like an emergency page on night shift. Forced herself not to care that his finger had no ring. Or how soft, warm and capable his hand felt as it brushed expertly over her injuries. He obviously knew what he was doing medically, not just what he was doing to her emotionally.
“Hurt anywhere?”
How ironic the question. Bottomless eyes bored into hers.
“Mostly my wrist.” Mostly.
He ceased staring only to check those areas. Leaning closer, he lowered his voice. “Look, Mandy, I know this is awkward. If you’d rather someone else—”
“I’m fine.” For the most part. What else could she say? Admit her heart still ached from ten-year-old trauma? No. She refused to show herself weak around him again. He’d seen her at her most vulnerable, then rejected and abandoned her. She could never put herself in that position again.
Not liking his knowing, penetrating visual inquiry, she glanced at his uniform. “I see you made it through boot camp.”
That caused him to laugh.
“Barely.” He splinted her wrist then wrapped a sling around her arm. “You know how I was never a morning person. Those o’dark-thirty wake-up calls nearly did me in.”
She fought nostalgia with a vengeance.
“I see you made it through med school.” Pride sparkled as his eyes viewed the title embroidered on her rumpled scrubs.
She nodded because the emotion in his words disabled her voice.
“I’m proud of you, Mandy.” His smile gleamed genuine and warm. His gaze lingered, reaching deep, almost desperate, as if searching for something lost. Yet glowed radiant as in fascinated wonder of something found.
Heat came to her cheeks. She averted her gaze. How had she forgotten how deep his dimples were? How smooth and suave his voice. And how exquisite his eyes.
Cold. Be cold.
Do. Not. Thaw.
She lifted her chin. She supposed he made it through pararescue training, otherwise he wouldn’t be here. Must have been one of those brave, uniformed men making a grand entrance from helicopters. Both of which had enraptured the children’s attention, and helped them momentarily forgo their fears. Had even caused her to forget for a few moments they were all on the brink of death.
How would an elite, world-class airman end up in a small town calamity? Did he live nearby?
Oh, please no. She forced herself to stop wondering about him, the one thing on earth that could undo her and unravel her future. She’d ask Miss Ivy, town matriarch, landlady and owner of Ivy Manor where Mandy lived. She straightened her shoulders and spine and adopted a professional air.
He studied her carefully, almost comically. As if he knew her drill. Using coping mechanisms to prove to both of them his presence wasn’t affecting her.
“I see you’re still military.” She eyed emblems on a maroon beret, peeking out his side pants pocket.
“I see you’re still Manchester.” His gaze dealt heavy inquiry as it dipped to brush her name tag before reaching for her face again. The tender way his eyes held hers reminded her of an all-consuming embrace. His embrace.
She swallowed. Of course she’d never married. Why would she after having her heart ripped out and stomped on by his proverbial combat jump boots? What business was it of his?
She shoved to her feet before her mind could wonder why.
Quick as a blink, he surged closer, hand out as if to steady her, but stopped when she took an unsteady step back.
Disappointment clashed with concern across his face, and something else she couldn’t put her finger on. Regret?
Well, so what? Too late for sorry. It didn’t change the past or kill the pain.
“It’s good to see you.” He cleared his throat when she didn’t nod or agree.
He took a deliberate step back from her and aimed a slow thumb behind him. Same thumb that used to swipe away her tears and tilt her chin up for good-night kisses. Memories brought warmth to her cheeks.
“I’m going to check on the others.” He nodded toward a group of elderly women. “I’ll have one of my teammates direct you to an ambulance.”
She nodded.
He motioned toward her hand. “You need to have those bones X-rayed and set. Of course, being a doctor, I imagine you know that.” He met her gaze and held it like his strong arms had the children going up the hoist rope.
Her mind flashed back ten years ago, to the day he left on a bus to Air Force boot camp. It had taken every ounce of strength not to chase it down the street. While her heart had cried for him to come back, her feet had stayed firmly planted because he’d promised to write every week. In the midst of a heart raging with titanic emotions, her mind and common sense reasoned that he’d enlisted and legally there’d been no getting out of it.
But months later after no letters, her bleeding heart had won, convincing her mind that Nolan had left for something better. Just like her dad had left her mom and Mandy. A better life and she wasn’t part of it.
And she’d felt no less abandoned by Nolan. Especially after all the loneliness, emotional trauma and family tumult he’d helped her through. Doing what he was meant to: rescue. He was doing that now but he’d always shown tendencies.
But she wasn’t that needy person anymore. She clenched trembling fingers against her side as well as her injuries allowed. All the while he gauged her as though searching for signs of life.
Or lack of.
She dipped her head toward other victims. “Go on. I understand triage. And I’m not that hurt.”
His chin lifted and his expression took on a knowing manner, as if he’d picked up on the terse tones of the last sentence.
He pivoted, not seeming to be able to remove his gaze. His mouth moved as if to say something.
Slowly, he walked backward as though seeing her was like witnessing someone dead coming back to life.
Yet there resided a deep pain in his eyes that also looked like he’d just seen someone die who’d previously lived.
“Glad to see you’re okay, Mandy.” His voice sounded unmistakably thick as his eyes, genuine and reminiscently tender, canvassed the dark, swirling water.
At her reply of silence, his wide shoulders drooped as if weighted with something that wasn’t pressing on them before he’d seen her. Slowly, he turned.
And then he was gone. Just like that.
And Mandy could not breathe. Could not think. Could not slow her pulse or still her thoughts from reeling or stop her heart from squeezing. Or keep herself from thinking of chasing after him with all her might.
Again.
Chapter Three
“What’s up, bro?” Brock clapped a hand on Nolan’s shoulder.
Vince hawk-eyed him. “Yeah. Look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Nolan swallowed. “Feel like I have.”
Petrowski looked up. “Don’t tell me. You just saw that woman you always used to talk about.”
Brock leaned in. “You mean the one he never got over? The reason he won’t go on dates, least not second ones?”
Nolan tensed his jaw and gave a slight nod.
“No way!” Vince stood and eyed Mandy from afar.
“Dude! Seriously?” Brock’s eyes widened.
“Yeah.”
Chance eyed the lot over Nolan’s shoulder. “That her?”
Nolan nodded, turning with his team and commander to watch Mandy.
Joy and sadness played ring-around-the-rosy with his heart as he watched her interact with the children and tend their scrapes and bumps despite her injury.
Chance moved to stand next to Nolan. “Didn’t y’all part ways so she could go to med school when you joined the military?”
“Yeah.”
Petrowski pivoted. “As natural and calm as she was with those children back there, obviously she realized her dream.”
Nodding, Nolan pulled out his beret and settled it on his head.
“At the expense of your relationship, though,” Brock said.
“I encouraged her to go. At the time I couldn’t have offered her as much as medical school.” Nolan shrugged, but the niggling feeling of failing Mandy and the hard goodbye they’d had the day he left wouldn’t recede. “She’d have lost her funding had I not kept up my end of the bargain.” Had he fought for what he wanted—made a way for him and Mandy to be together—her dreams would have been flushed down the drain by those in authority, who wanted nothing more than Nolan away from her.
To get in their way would have resulted in Mandy losing her chance to do the one thing she’d always dreamed: help salvage the lives of children.
As she’d done amazingly today with outstanding bravery and grit.
“What I did was for the best. For both of us.” Now whom was he trying to convince? Needing a moment of space, Nolan stepped away from his closest friends and eyed the horizon where purple streaked into pink above the bridge that sat cockeyed over Refuge River. In fact…
Reunion Bridge. The hair on Nolan’s neck and arms prickled.
No coincidence. God had meant them to meet again.
Why?
And why when he was in the midst of having to use every bit of time and energy to be proactive at finding a way out of being taken from his team? And from Refuge, a town he’d come to love. And now from Mandy, right when they’d reunited. Nolan wished Joel was here. And Manny. They’d help him make sense of it all.
He could look to Petrowski, but Aaron was in the same boat as Nolan and then some. Aaron—a single dad and trying to be there for his little boys and his “big” ones, the Pararescue team.
No, Nolan couldn’t burden Petrowski further. He’d find a way on his own and trust in God’s help.
One by one, the guys knuckled his shoulders and cupped hands on his back, then turned as a unit and started walking off.
Nolan took a step to follow, then turned back. Unable to leave or even look away just yet.
“Ready, Briggs? Or you gonna stand here and gawk at that gorgeous doctor all day?” Petrowski said moments later.
“Gorgeous is right.” Mandy had always been pretty. But this woman Mandy had grown into could kick any guy’s testosterone into high gear. And his pulse. Yeah. Definitely his pulse.
One more moment. He’d linger. He’d look. But the more he looked, the more he couldn’t look away. His heart had hoisted to her the moment he’d seen her again. And heard her voice. And looked into her mesmerizing cat-shaped eyes. Shimmery green. Like sleek, waxen southern Illinois soybean fields.
Eyes that still held a decade-old hurt.
Memories he’d forgotten assaulted him in waves as he remembered all they’d shared.
He faced Petrowski. “Even before we were sweethearts, we were inseparable growing up. Neighborhood buddies. Confidants.” Nolan smiled, recalling a particular blackberry bush burglary. “Partners in crime at times. Best friends.”
Soul mates.
The thought shook something loose. A determination he didn’t know he possessed blasted forth. He lifted his binoculars, aimed her way.
An unseen pressure moved them back down.
Chance grinned. “Dude, that borders on stalking.”
Nolan lowered the binoculars and tucked them away, wishing he could do the same with the film of memories reeling through his mind right now.
“You still have a thing for her?” Vince reached for the binoculars. “Lemme see why.”
Nolan laughed and knocked away his hand. “Not on your life.”
“You two have a history.” Petrowski’s world-wise eyes smiled. “Strange you’d meet again. Here. This way.”
“What kinda history?” Brock waggled his reddish brows.
Nolan shook his head. “Not that kind. She was a good girl.” Who fell for the bad boy. At least that’s what Mandy’s mother and her pastor claimed. Their influence had been like a tumor in his and Mandy’s relationship, metastasizing it with the poison of pious principles.
Nolan hadn’t shared Mandy’s family’s faith. Therefore she was off-limits, according to them and the Bible they quoted. The book he’d wanted nothing to do with because he feared it would judge him as harshly and unmercifully as they did.
Now, as a new Christian, he understood completely. But at the time, their judgmental precepts had incited and incised him.
“Where are they transporting?” Nolan asked Petrowski and forced his feet to move. He observed a Red Cross volunteer finishing up paperwork with Mandy and directing her to the far end of the parking lot with waiting ambulances.
“Refuge Memorial for now. Completely swamped from so many bridge victims being brought in. So patients will be diverted elsewhere.”
Nolan shucked off his jumpsuit, glad he’d worn jeans and a T-shirt beneath. “So all injured are being taken there initially?”
Zips sounded as Aaron shirked his own suit. “Far as I know.”
“I can go talk with her there. We never had proper closure.” Nolan wadded his suit and tossed it in his rucksack.
Aaron tilted his head. “And, according to her response back there, you need to.”
“Exactly right.” He couldn’t let this go. Not again. He didn’t realize the impact of that open wound until the moment they’d laid eyes on one another after a decade of zero contact.
They needed to talk, if nothing more than to ease shut the chapter of a very painful book. He’d seen it in her eyes.
He’d hurt her. Majorly wronged her.
And he needed to make it right.
“How rude,” Mandy muttered to herself as she stepped away from the volunteer, and Nolan’s scrutiny. Ow, did her hand hurt. Starting to swell, too. A blue-black discoloration had begun. Hand elevated, she trudged toward the distant line of ambulances she’d been directed to. Maybe they’d have pain relievers on board. And another ice pack. To cool off her wrist.
And her temper.
Nolan and his friends had been openly staring and talking about her. Without trying to hide it. What kind of friends did he have nowadays? She couldn’t hear what they said but knew for certain she was the object of conversation.
And she had felt Nolan’s stare above the rest.
Where was he?
She started to look around but stopped herself. She’d jump off the bridge before she’d broadcast how badly he’d rattled her. He had to be tracking her. She could still perceive him. Right now. Gaze drilled into her back right to her heart.
No matter.
This freakish accident tumbled them together but she wasn’t about to make anything out of it. He’d better not follow her to the hospital, either. She had nothing to say to him. Nothing.
Never mind small pings of joy that he would actually make an effort to come see her. Why would he?
The cold, sharp truth smarted like a dull needle. She hadn’t meant enough to him ten years ago or he would have found a way.
And she would not risk her heart to a man like that again. She’d have to mean more to him than his dreams.
To be fair, she hadn’t considered giving up hers, either. Couldn’t have expected Nolan to give up his. He really hadn’t had a choice whereas she had but hadn’t taken it.
Seeing how he rescued people today made her glad he hadn’t. The world needed men like that, willing to risk their lives so others can live. Their relationship had been a casualty of his creed and her cause.
She was no longer on his radar. Not even close. No use hoping for a relationship that had ended a decade ago.
Sweat trickled down Mandy’s back as she continued her trek across asphalt so hot it probably melted the tread on her soles. An EMT approached. “Think you can ride sitting up, Dr. Manchester?” he asked as she reached the line of open-door ambulances that had come from towns around to assist.
“Yes.”
Reece, Caden and Jayna sat like three lost baby ducks in a row inside a middle ambulance. The urge to shelter them hit her. How she loved children. She had an especially tender heart for fragile ones. She nodded that way. “If there’s room in there, I’ll ride with them.”
“Sure. But might be a bit before transport since we may need to stick a couple others in it.” He eyed her injuries.
Mandy nodded. “That’s fine.”
Hand lent, the EMT assisted her inside, and closed the door.
“Miss Mandy!” Reece scooted over and patted a place beside her. Bless the child’s assessment that her bottom could actually fit in that small space.
Caden must have noticed Mandy’s dilemma. He unlatched the strap across his thighs and moved to the bench.
“Scoot an itty bit more,” Mandy said, then sat between Reece and Jayna.
Grinning, Reece fisted her hand and lifted it to Mandy.
She smiled. “Just what am I supposed to do with that?”
Jayna giggled. “You go like this.” She fisted her hand and bumped Reece’s knuckles.
“Hi-fives aren’t hip anymore?”
Caden scowled. “No way. Neither is ‘hip.’ It’s older’n my grandma’s dinosaur’s grandma.”
Reece and Jayna erupted in giggles and squashed themselves up against her.
“Hey, Caden, I never did catch your last name.” Mandy wiggled her nose at the little boy.
“Boyle,” he said. Mandy caught sight of Nolan walking past. Looking for something? Someone? Her heart slammed against her sternum when he passed by, then disappeared from sight.
God, I miss him. Hurts too much to hope…
Mandy consciously repressed it all.
“Chief Boyle…” Mandy tilted her face in a dreamy lilt, making pretense of eyeing the ceiling, while actually looking for emergency items. Habit she supposed. “I do believe I like the sound of that.”
The children chortled.
Mandy joined them and felt the unprecedented stress of an unbearably hard day melt away. “Well all-right-y then. Fist bumps are what people do nowadays.” She raised hers and bumped each child, causing bubbly giggles to fill the ambulance.
The door opened and the EMT poked his head inside. “Dr. Manchester, you well enough to be the transport medic if I stay and ready other patients for air evacuation?”
“Absolutely. I’m right in my element here.” She smiled.
So did the EMT. “Any questions on where stuff is?”
She looked around, catching sight of the most important things. Oxygen. IV equipment. Code meds, though none of these children would need any of that. She searched for a seatbelt for the booth. “How do I secure them in?”
The EMT whose nametag read “Cole” tugged a clasp from a crack between padded benches. “Any other questions?”
“Why yes, in fact I do. Did you know fist bumps are in and hi-fives are old news?”
Cole laughed. “I’d heard fist bumps were a wave of the future.” He lifted his hand and touched gentle knuckles to each child, then Mandy’s. “Thank you.” He cast a deeply thankful look to her and closed the door.
Past him, through the windows, she could see men dressed as Nolan had been, assisting other paramedics with stabilizing those who would be flown to other hospitals. Probably those specializing in head and spinal trauma. The thought made her want to leap from the ambulance and help her fellow medical workers.
Likewise, the thought that Nolan, though unseen, could be on the other side of the doors made her want to bolt out and see him. Hold him. Catch up. Connect. Recapture something, anything. The sensation of being the only person in the world who knew the other so profoundly. They’d had a bond like nothing she’d ever known.
Then, one day, nothing.
Hands fisted, Mandy pressed them beneath her thighs and tilted toward the children. “So, what was your field trip?” The bus driver had explained it was an end-of-the-year gig but hadn’t said where. Chitchat would keep the kids’ minds off missing their parents, and her mind off missing Nolan.
Reece grinned. “We went to a science museum. It was fun.”
As the children chattered on, Mandy stacked pillows under her elbow and leaned back. Her wrist throbbed like crazy. But she didn’t want to trouble Cole or any others for pain meds. From some of the serious injuries she’d passed on her way to the ambulance, she definitely sat at the bottom of the triage totem.
Through the windows, a tawny-haired man with a military buzz came back into view. She didn’t have to strain her eyes to know it was Nolan. Nor did she have to see his eyes to know they were the most brilliant shade of blue.
As if sensing her stare, he shifted and looked around. She stiffened, then relaxed and craned her neck. He couldn’t know she was in this ambulance. Nor that she could watch him unaware. She could only see him from the shoulders up, and he was totally out of sight of the children, who would undoubtedly bombard her with questions should they notice her noticing Nolan.
He conversed with someone she couldn’t see, but his gaze kept coming back to sweep the line of ambulances.
She grew enthralled watching him. The lithe motions. Firm jaw. That lopsided grin that had graced her almost daily growing up as he’d walked her home from school because they lived in a bad neighborhood. The familiar yet now mature animation on his face elicited a sense of loneliness that made her miss him.
He bent and lifted something, probably a patient. He looked utterly in his element. Like he was born to do this.
Just like you were born to be a doctor.
Unfortunately their dreams were like two strong arms tugging them apart and in opposite directions. Yet they’d championed one another’s hopes and goals practically since the day they met.
IV bag in hand, Nolan shifted something and raised his arm.
“Miss Mandy, why do we gotta go to the hospital if we aren’t hurt?” Caden asked, breaking the bittersweet trance.
Metal clanked together as Mandy secured a seatbelt over him. “Because that’s where they’re telling your parents to come pick you up. And because the doctors and nurses will want to check you out and make sure you didn’t get any bumps and bruises that might need Band-Aids.”
He nodded. “Miss Mandy, do you have any Band-Aids?”
She spread fingers on her good hand. “Sadly, I’m fresh out. But the nice doctors and nurses at the hospital will have Band-Aids and stickers. Maybe even lollipops. How about that?”
Mandy laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Reece asked.
“Just thinking about how nurses give the shots and doctors give the lollipops.” Mandy wiggled her nose at Reece, who grinned. “But my office will be different.” She might call the shots and have her nurses give them, but she’d let them also dole out stickers.
Nolan moved from her line of sight. The air inside the ambulance vacuumed all hers in a sudden panic. She resisted the urge to push open the door.
Focus. Focus on the children. Forget about Nolan. Focus.
Caden grinned, revealing lost teeth. “I wanted the Band-aids for Bearby. Looks like he could fall apart.”
Reece clutched the brown bear appendage to her. “He does not! It’s just that his fur falls out because I love on him so much.” She sent a harsh scowl at Caden.
He blinked at her like she was an alien. Then tilted his face up. “Miss Mandy, why do you want to be a doctor? Our teacher says it takes lots of school. School’s boring.”
Mandy chuckled as she brushed a hand along Bearby’s disheveled fur and contemplated the question.
Jayna leaned her head against Mandy’s side and hugged her arm. “You were right, Miss Mandy. They came for us.”
“And got us all off,” Caden said. “Every single one.”
Mandy forced a calm, convincing smile. These precious children did not need to know that not everyone had made it off the bridge or out of the water alive. As sure as she lived, she would take those horrific images of the collapse to her own grave.
Reece leaned close to Mandy’s other side. “And you kept us not afraid anymore. Thank you.” She pressed her stuffed animal’s ebony nose to her ear. “What? Oh.” She turned his smooshed-in face toward her ribs, like the toy was being shy. She leaned in and whispered, “Bearby says he thinks he loves you.”
Emotion lodged words in Mandy’s throat. She’d noticed Reece projecting thoughts and emotions onto the toy earlier. Mandy couldn’t have spoken if she’d wanted. So she smiled. Deeply, at each little expectant face.
This is why. These children. This feeling of accomplishment and knowing she could make a difference in the life of a child and their family in a difficult season.
She wrapped an arm around the two girls, and reached over to bump a gentle fingertip playfully on Caden’s nose.
“Children like you are why I do what I do.”
Leaning in, Mandy knuckled her hand and lightly fist-bumped Bearby’s tattered paw. “And for the record, Bearby, I think I love you, too.”
Chapter Four
“Mommy! That’s Miss Mandy, the nice doctor lady who helped us,” a familiar voice pealed through the hospital corridor.
Mandy rose from her chair in the hallway outside the bustling Refuge E.R. waiting room. She smiled at the woman walking toward her with Reece and her stuffed bear in tow.
“C’mon!” Reece tucked Bearby beneath her arm and dragged her mother faster.
Upon approach, deep gratitude glistened from the young woman’s eyes. Uncanny how much she looked like an older version of Reece.
The woman breached the space between them like a close family member would and grasped Mandy’s uninjured hand. “I’m Amelia North, Reece’s mom.”
“I’m Dr. Manchester. Please call me Mandy.”
“Thank you for watching over our children on the bridge.” Amelia’s grip tightened when the words strained from her throat. The heartfelt tone put a sting to Mandy’s eyes. What’s with that? She hadn’t cried since she was a teen.
“I’m thankful they weren’t hurt. Truth is, they kept me brave.” It wasn’t a lie. Being responsible for them had lessened her fear and panic.
Reece plopped onto a chair. She danced Bearby on her knees.
“That couldn’t have been easy with you being injured.” Amelia eyed Mandy’s splint. “How did you stay strong for them?”
“Imagined myself in a parent’s place. Kept in mind they were depending on me. Acted as I’d want mine treated if I had any.” Mandy brushed fingers through Reece’s curls.
“You’re not a mommy?” Reece wiggled close to Mandy’s lap.
She leaned eye level. “Not yet.”
Reece lifted her comfort toy. “Bearby wants to know why not.”
Mandy faced Bearby. “I still have some doctor training left so I can learn how to take the best care of people.” She started to add that she’d also like to find a husband first, but the words caught in her throat.
She discreetly eyed Amelia’s left hand. A heart-shaped diamond winked back, but no wedding band. Gaze averted, her mind zeroed in on Reece. Thankfully Mandy hadn’t said anything. Wasn’t her place to judge or wonder about the situation.
“Bearby thinks you’ll make a good doctor, and a good mommy.” Making engine noises, Reece puttered Bearby in the air.
Mandy tilted her head. “Thank you. On both counts.”
“Is your hand in terrible pain?” Amelia set her purse on the chair beside her near the E.R. waiting room door.
TVs blared from different stations, all filled with images of the collapse. Her chest hurt at the sights playing out. Mandy turned away. But she could still hear the announcer describing the ordeal. Sweat broke out over Mandy’s brow. She tried to dab it but her arms felt robotic and numb.
Concern flashed across Amelia’s face. “Are you okay?”
Mandy stood on legs that felt as rubbery as the business end of a reflex hammer. As quickly as possible, she turned the TV volume down, ignoring caustic looks from waiting room patrons. “I am now,” she said to Amelia as she returned to the seat beside her.
The smells of antiseptic and sickness hung in the air. Call lights rang down the halls, and a hacking cough emerged from the room beside her that made Mandy want to whip out a prescription pad.
Reece peeped at the temporary splint Nolan had applied.
“Is it broken?” Reece blinked up at her.
Hesitation hovered inside Mandy’s thoughts. She wanted to be honest yet tread lightly. “I think so, but no one’s looked at it yet. They’re taking care of the worst injured first.”
“How will they tell?” Reece asked.
“They’ll take special pictures called X-rays.”
“Will they hurt?”
“If they have to straighten out my hand it might. Otherwise, X-rays usually don’t hurt at all.” She smiled at Reece.
“Mommy could go with you and hold your hand. She’s good at that. She holds my hand when I get shots. And you could hug Bearby during it. He makes people brave.”
“He sure does.” Mandy kneaded Bearby’s fuzzy misshapen head.
“Then him and Mommy will go with you.” Reece’s expression declared the matter settled.
Amelia fingered Reece’s curly brown hair. “I’m sure Dr. Manchester has someone who can sit with her.”
Mandy shifted uncomfortably. In the confusion, she had left her purse which contained her cell phone, in her car on the bridge. An officer had left a message with the nurses’ desk saying he’d recovered it and would bring it by when he had a moment. Not that she had anyone here she could call once she had it. Miss Ivy didn’t drive.
Perceptive awareness entered Amelia’s eyes. “Need to borrow my phone to call someone?” She pulled her purse onto her lap and extracted a cell phone.
Heat of a blush crept over Mandy. “No, I’ll be all right. Besides, I’m fairly new in town and really don’t know anyone. My mother lives in a different state.”
Called Oblivion.
“Would you like us to sit with you while you wait?” Amelia tucked her phone back in her purse.
“No, it’s fine.” But a thought struck her. Who would take her home? She’d be unable to drive herself if she took pain medication or if she had a sling on her arm. “Does Refuge have a cab service?”
“No. Small town. We could give you a ride if they let you go.”
“I’d hate to make you wait. I imagine it will be past Reece’s bedtime before staff get to me.”
“It won’t hurt her to get to bed late one night.” She gave Reece’s ponytail an affectionate tug. “Will it?”
Mischief alive in her eyes, Reece grinned like she’d just gotten away with something big. “I like staying up late!”
Mandy and Amelia laughed.
“We live at the Refuge Bed and Breakfast on the edge of town. It only takes thirty minutes to get here,” Amelia said.
Mandy shifted. “I don’t know…” Thirty minutes there, then here then to Mandy’s and back would take at least two hours out of Reece’s sleep time.
Despite Mandy’s hesitation, Amelia handed her a card. “Here are my numbers. I doubt they’ll have school tomorrow with what’s happened.” With what’s happened.
Knowing she meant the bridge collapse, Mandy studied the chic business card to block horrific images that threatened in her mind’s eyes. “You do caricature art?”
“In my spare time. I also manage Refuge’s B and B. Promise you’ll call if you need a ride?”
Suddenly, she didn’t feel embarrassed about being needy. “I will.”
“Maybe we can meet for coffee next week, too?” Amelia asked.
“I’d love that.”
Her face lit up. “Say goodbye, Reece.”
“Bye, Miss Mandy. I don’t like how we had to meet but I’m glad we did. So is Bearby.” Reece hugged Mandy.
Mandy reciprocated the hug. “I’m glad we met, too. I’m glad you weren’t hurt.”
“Or lost in the scary water.” Reece took hold of her mom’s hand. “Mommy would have been so sad.”
Mandy’s heart pounded with memories of watching cars in front of her plunge into the depths of Refuge River. Her hands trembled and so did her lips. Sounds from the wreck clanged in her ears and drowned out rational thought. She drew deep breaths and focused on Reece’s antics with Bearby until the impending flashback receded. She rubbed sudden moisture off her quaking palm by running it across her thigh. “I don’t blame her. I would have been sad, too. But you are safe—and you are here.”
But others weren’t.
Mandy fought debilitating dread at the grief and hardship that families of those who didn’t get out of their cars in time were going through this instant. Several survivors were permanently injured, which was why it was taking so long for her to be seen. “If there was a room or even equipment free, I’d go back there and treat myself.”
Amelia laughed. “You’re gutsier than me.”
“I seriously would, just to ease the staff’s burden and relieve someone of duty. The hospital is on trauma alert. Every available space is taken. And my injuries are minor.”
“Couldn’t waiting be bad for you if it’s broken?” Amelia eyed her wrist with concern.
Mandy shrugged, not wanting to think about things like nerve damage from swelling and how that would affect her work.
“What does a broken bone feel like, Miss Mandy?” Reece asked.
“Like it got hit.” With a sledgehammer. Hard. Twenty times.
“Owie.” Reece nuzzled Mandy’s sling with Bearby.
“Ah-ah-ah.” Amelia guided the bear away. “We don’t touch.”
“Bearby’s just trying to make Miss Mandy feel better. Hospitals are scary.” Reece darted wide eyes around, then scooted closer to Amelia.
She’s afraid. Mandy felt bad for them staying here on her account. “I work in hospitals all the time. I’ll be fine if you’d like to go home.”
“Can we, Mommy? I love Miss Mandy but I’m scared.”
“Sure.” Amelia held Reece and cast Mandy apologetic glances.
“It’s fine. Honestly. I will call you if I need something.”
“Okay. Would it be an imposition to get your phone number so I can check on you? And verify you’re still up for coffee?”
“Not at all. You have paper and something to write with?”
Amelia pulled out a notebook with an attached mini pen.
Mandy scribbled as best she could left-handed. “Here you go.”
“I won’t share this info with anyone.”
Mandy laughed. “Didn’t think you would. No one ever calls me anyway. Not even telemarketers.” No one ever calls me.
Why had she revealed that? Especially when bursts of sympathy spritzed from Amelia’s eyes? No one needed to burden themselves with her loneliness. Yet something about Amelia North beckoned. She emanated warmth and trust conducive to friendship.
“Be glad about the telemarketers. We get calls all day long.” Laughing, Amelia picked up Reece. “Let’s skedaddle so Miss Mandy can rest.” They made their way to the exit.
Mandy missed the company immediately. The chatter had kept her mind off the pain. She closed her eyes to mentally wash it out but instead, images of water swirling through broken car windows rushed in.
She jerked open her eyes and sat up. Sweat broke out over her cheeks, forehead and palms. Whether from the flashback or the pain, she couldn’t be sure.
A hand rested on her shoulder. She looked up.
“Dr. Manchester?” Nurse Bailey hovered. “How’re you faring?”
Mandy tilted her good hand sideways and back. “Hanging in.”
“It’s gonna be another couple hours before someone can set that fracture. All the docs are in surgery. Sure you don’t wanna pain shot?” Her face revealed empathetic apology.
“I’m sure.” She’d never had narcotics and didn’t want to lose control in front of staff. “I can wait.”
Nurse Bailey looked doubtful. “All right then. Call me if you change your mind.”
The more Mandy watched her coworkers, nurses and other medical personnel scurry about, the more restless she became.
She blew out a frustrated breath. Feeling a snooze coming on, she leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes.
Warmth spread across her stomach, arms and chest. She stretched open her eyes. Sound trickled into her consciousness.
Someone stood above her. Someone familiar. She blinked awake.
“Nolan?” Her heart began to pound and she reached for him.
Then remembered.
She tucked her hands back beneath the gauzy white hospital blanket he must have brought and spread out over her torso.
“Hey.” He knelt in front of her. “You haven’t been seen yet?”
She shook her head. “They’re swamped.”
“How are you holding up?” He tugged the blanket back and palpated her fingers, peeking through the stretchy bandage he’d applied on the bridge.
“Fair.”
“It’s twice as swollen as on the bridge. What did they give you for pain?”
Her voice caught at the softness in his. “I—I haven’t had anything.” She dipped her face, partly to avoid the compassion in his. How she hated to be weak in front of him again.
Nolan rose, looking determinedly down halls, probably for a nurse.
Mandy straightened. “They offered but I declined it.”
He inclined his head. “Now why would you go and do a silly—”
“Dr. Manchester?” Nurse Bailey approached.
Thank goodness. Saved by the Bailey.
“Yes?” Mandy stood.
Nolan stepped back but put his hand to her unaffected elbow.
Bailey motioned toward the unit. “You’re up next. Come on back.”
Nolan made motions to follow. Mandy held her hand palm up in halt position. Comically annoyed but steadfast, he looked at it like it was no barrier. When his gaze reached hers, he stopped and drew a long breath that made his chest bigger. Like it needed it. Not!
“Look Mandy, I came here to see how you were. But also, I wanted to set up a time to meet. We need to talk.”
Her hand jammed to her hip. “Not interested in discussing anything.” Knees trembling, she turned to go.
A strong hand curled around her healthy wrist. “Don’t be mule-headed.” He moved toward the room with her still in hand.
She stopped, tugged her hand free and shot him a caustic glare. “Bye, Nolan.”
His body tensed, but paused. The knot in his jaw rippled. Always a sign of frustration in Nolan. Yet rarely, if ever, had it been directed at her.
She turned to go to the room Nurse Bailey disappeared into.
“This is far from over, Mandy.” The decree floated from somewhere behind her.
She ignored him until she reached the room entrance. Then mistakenly cast a glance over her shoulder to see if he’d actually listened to her and left.
Right.
He stood, stubborn and tall, feet planted right where her words had left him. And according to the steel-plated glint in his resolute eyes he not only wasn’t going anywhere, her words may as well have fallen on deaf ears.
He wasn’t budging.
This is far from over.
Then an unspoken version of that message traveled, mesmerizingly slow and daringly potent, down the corridor from his eyes to hers. And his immovable jutting stance said exactly the same yet fractionally different:
We are far from over.
Chapter Five
“It’s broken for sure?” Mandy askd Dr. Riviera after she’d been taken to a room and her wrist X-rayed.
“Yes.”
A sinking feeling hit her gut. “Are soft tissues involved?”
Wheels on the med cart squeaked as he pushed it toward her. “Subsequent X-rays and an MRI will tell for sure. But judging by the pain, swelling and disfigured angle of the hand, I’m guessing yes.”
“Figured as much.” How would this affect her job? Could she safely carry out examinations with her left hand when she was right-handed? Her mind clicked through common procedures. Discouragement abounded.
A knock sounded at the door. “Bailey in here?” a male voice Mandy recognized as Dr. Callahan’s asked. “We have issues in nine and could use another pair of arms.”
“You’re in hot demand today.” Mandy smiled at Bailey, feeling compassion for the tired woman. All the wrung-out staff, really.
“Always. Excuse me.” Nurse Bailey scurried out.
Dr. Riviera suddenly looked weary as he moved into the light. Dark shadows circled his normally bright eyes, now bloodshot. Puffy bags of skin clung to them, making him look older.
Empathy filled her. “You’ve been here all night?”
He nodded and offered a tired smile. “I’ll get relief soon. I wanted to see your treatment through first.” He stifled a yawn.
“I understand.” She eyed the cart and moved to the edge of the table’s padded seat. Paper crinkled beneath her. “So what torture are you about to inflict, hmm?”
He chuckled. “First, I need to know how you’re getting home. If these bones aren’t aligned, we’ll need to reset the hand.”
Ouch. “I know.”
“Which means you also know I’ll have to heavily sedate or anesthetize you?”
She gritted her teeth and nodded.
He unwrapped her bandage. “Whoever splinted this did a fabulous job.”
Mandy licked her lips and stared at a spot on the wall.
“Be right back and we’ll get this fixed up after I snag someone to help me. Now that Callahan stole Bailey from me.”
It took longer than Mandy expected for the door to open. Dr. Riviera re-entered, armed with hot pink casting paraphernalia.
Bailey started Mandy’s IV, then left to answer a call light.
Wheels creaked as an anesthetist entered with a cart. “You’re not going to be able to walk home after we apply this.” He looked pointedly at Mandy’s wrist, the anesthesia cart and casting material. “Is there someone you can call?”
“I’d offer a ride but we have a mandatory stress debriefing,” Riviera said.
“I imagine patients need this bed, too.” Occupied gurneys crammed all hallways with curtained partitions around them. Guilt slammed her over having this private room.
“Other than you and Doc Callahan, the two hoodlums who recruited me to supposedly calm Refuge, I don’t know anyone awake at this hour.” She hated to wake Amelia.
“You know me,” Nolan said from the door.
Her head lifted.
He must have had a shower because he looked clean-shaven and wore civilian clothes. Trendy jeans hugged lean legs, revealing muscles she hadn’t noticed yesterday. His shirt caught her attention too. A pressed black button up with silvery-white pin stripes—her favorite colors. Coincidence? Or did he remember? Nolan never wore black in the summer.
She cleared her throat and eyed her supervisor.
Dr. Riviera watched them with amused interest.
“May I come in?” Nolan asked.
Mandy shifted. “Looks like you already are.”
Guilt prodded Mandy to squirm under his gently inquisitive eyes.
Vague recollections of him walking her to the lab and imaging departments last night seeped into her thoughts. Holding her as she’d tried not to yelp from pain as technicians straightened her hand to get a good image. He’d talked her through the procedure as a doula coached a woman through labor. Like he’d talked her through hundreds of problems growing up.
And, because meds had lowered her resistance, she’d let him.
“I’m not really up for visitors, Nolan.”
“How’s it going, Airman Briggs?” Ignoring her, Dr. Riviera walked to the door and extended his hand. “Nice job on the bridge. Got all the children off safely, I hear.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Nolan shook Riviera’s hand.
“Rumor has it you might be leaving soon?” Riviera said.
Mandy looked up. What? Leaving? What?
Nolan’s jaw tensed. “Maybe.”
“How soon?”
“In a few months unless plan D works.”
Plan D? If they’d gone through plans A, B and C, that wasn’t good, right? Why would he be leaving? She’d asked Cole about the PJs and he’d informed them the pararescue team was stationed in Refuge since it sat on the edge of Eagle Point Air Base.
“I hope it does. I hate to see you go,” Riviera said.
“Yeah. Me, too.” Nolan faced Mandy. He marched in like a warrior on a mission. “Look, we need to talk. Besides, you could use a distraction for when they treat those injuries.” He nodded at her wrist, elevated and wrapped in ice.
True. She did.
She eyed Dr. Riviera. His head lowered the way it did when he administered verbal pop quizzes to residents. “And I could use his help. Bailey bailed on me.”
She couldn’t very well make herself out to look like a hag in front of the head of her medical department, now could she?
Mandy gritted her teeth and nodded toward a chair near where the anesthetist readied equipment. “Come on in then, Nolan.” Get this over with and leave.
Since you’re so good at it.
“Thanks.” He didn’t take the chair. He took the spot right beside her and leaned against the exam table.
Dr. Riviera approached with a fresh hand splint. “Nurses are stretched beyond human limit. So I’m going to have Airman Briggs, who is essentially a paramedic, assist me. You okay with that, Dr. Manchester? It’ll be good training.”
For what, emotional torture?
What could she do except nod?
Dr. Riviera’s pager went off. He peered at it. “Be right back.” He slipped from the room. She could have sworn she saw the hint of a smile as he went out the door, too. The anesthesiologist followed.
Utter conspiracy.
Putrid doctors.
Nolan rested a hand on her elbow. She tried not to flinch. Hated that she could feel his breath against her neck and hair as he leaned over. “Look, I’m sorry about that. I just wanted a chance to talk. Didn’t know he was going to draft me into helping with your procedures. You okay with that?”
Mandy held his gaze as long as she could without being rattled. And knew she couldn’t be a ninny about this. She stood from the table and walked across the room. “I trust you, Nolan. At least medically. I saw what you did on that bridge.”
The amazing things.
Someone knocked. “Miss Manchester?”
“Yes?”
“Officer Stallings. I have something you might need.”
“Please come in.”
The striking officer stepped around the corner with a dashing grin and her purse.
“Oh! You found it. Thank you!”
He handed it over with a little nod of his head. Man, did he have dimples-to-die-for or what? Yet he paled in comparison to Nolan. At least in her estimation. “Best contact your insurance company about your car as soon as possible, ma’am.”
Sweet southern manners and a delightful drawl to boot. She took the purse. “I will. Thank you.”
“Bye, now.” He tipped his hat and turned to go. “Briggs.” The officer nodded at Nolan on his way out.
Nolan gave a stiff nod back. “Stallings.”
“That came out terse,” Mandy said after the officer left.
“What?”
She puffed out her chest and tilted her chin in exaggerated motions. Then lowered her voice to majorly male octaves. “‘Briggs.’ ‘Stallings.’”
Nolan’s eyes smiled. “You’re imagining things.” His arms crossed, causing a heap of muscles to strain against his shirt. It couldn’t hide the massive chest. Concrete arms. Flat stomach. Not an ounce of fat anywhere.
She swayed away before admiration at how hard he must have worked to get himself to this place of extreme physical fortitude could cart her away.
Fighting adoration, she sniffed. “He’s cute.” Though not as cute as you.
“Who? Stallings?” Nolan’s arms lowered to his sides. But his hands were fisted, she noticed.
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