Книга - Sophie’s Path

Sophie's Path
Catherine Lanigan


Her choice. His consequences.Nurse Sophie Mattuchi has seen a lot of angry patients in the ER, but no one’s ever rattled her like Jack Carter. He has no right to blame her for his friend’s death. Sophie did everything she could. Didn’t she? Yet his accusations sting, and that sets off all kinds of internal alarms. She’s never cared this much about any man’s opinion of her. But Jack is different. He stirs up feelings. Strong feelings. Guilt. Anger. Attraction. Curiosity. Sympathy. Sophie’s definitely not interested in Jack, but even if she was, he’d never forgive her for the decision she made that night in the hospital. Would he?







Her choice. His consequences.

Nurse Sophie Mattuchi has seen a lot of angry patients in the ER, but no one’s ever rattled her like Jack Carter. He has no right to blame her for his friend’s death. Sophie did everything she could. Didn’t she? Yet his accusations sting, and that sets off all kinds of internal alarms. She’s never cared this much about any man’s opinion of her. But Jack is different. He stirs up feelings. Strong feelings. Guilt. Anger. Attraction. Curiosity. Sympathy. Sophie’s definitely not interested in Jack, but even if she was, he’d never forgive her for the decision she made that night in the hospital. Would he?


In the blink of an eye, Jack had placed the people in his charge in jeopardy.

Now he had to face his darkest hour.

The air was split again with screams of human pain that Jack would never have imagined, even in his worst nightmares. He heard a man, a young man, yelling for help on the other side of the ER. Jack wanted to cover his ears, but even if he could have, he knew he would never forget that scream for the rest of his life. It was so terrifying it sounded inhuman.

But above it all, he heard the high-pitched wail of a young girl’s terror that turned his blood to ice.

“That’s Aleah!” Jack growled as tears burned his swollen and bruised eyes.

A voice came over the loudspeaker. “Code Blue. Code Blue. Dr. Barzonni to the ER, stat.”

Sophie glanced back at Jack with pleading eyes. “I want to help you, but I have to go to her.”

Jack reached out his aching arm and motioned her away. “Save her, Sophie. Save her.”


Dear Reader (#ulink_4815efaf-7bc0-535e-bd2c-6a346bc964e3),

Since I first conjured the inhabitants of Indian Lake, Sophie Mattuchi was a favorite because she was so complicated, intense and an audacious flirt. If you read Heart’s Desire, book two in the Shores of Indian Lake series, you will remember that Sophie was Maddie Strong’s rival for Nate Barzonni. Sophie went so far as to lose eight pounds, cut her hair and bleach it to look more like Maddie. The ploy didn’t work, of course, because Nate only had eyes for Maddie. Then in book three, Sophie tried flirting with Nate’s brother, Gabe. That didn’t work, either.

Sophie’s infatuation with being infatuated, combined with her dedication to cardiac nursing, could only ignite fireworks when she meets handsome Jack Carter in the ER on the night of a devastating car accident. An accident caused by a man high on drugs.

The battle against drug addiction is being fought in far too many families. Mine is no exception. The challenges facing parents are agonizing and daunting. Sophie’s empathy toward addicts captured me. If you are a parent, I urge you to go to www.notmykid.org (http://www.notmykid.org) and make use of their guidance. Stopping drug addiction before it starts for your children is the wise course.

Sophie’s Path also gave me an opportunity to peek back into the lives of some favorite characters in town: Mrs. Beabots, Sarah and Luke Bosworth and of course, Liz and Gabe Barzonni, who are about to give birth to their first child. Boy? Girl?

As always, I’d love to hear from you. Your comments have a strong influence on my upcoming stories. Visit me on Facebook, Twitter @cathlanigan (https://mobile.twitter.com/cathlanigan), Pinterest, LinkedIn, Goodreads and my website, www.catherinelanigan.com (http://www.catherinelanigan.com).

Happy Reading!

Catherine




Sophie’s Path

Catherine Lanigan







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


CATHERINE LANIGAN knew she was born to storytelling at a very young age when she told stories to her younger brothers and sister to entertain them. After years of encouragement from family and high school teachers, Catherine was shocked and brokenhearted when her freshman college creative-writing professor told her that she had “no writing talent whatsoever” and that she would never earn a dime as a writer. He promised her that he would be her crutches and get her through his demanding class with a B grade so as not to destroy her high grade point average too much, if Catherine would promise never to write again. Catherine assumed he was the voice of authority and gave in to the bargain.

For fourteen years she did not write until she was encouraged by a television journalist to give her dream a shot. She wrote a six-hundred-page historical romantic spy thriller set against World War I. The journalist sent the manuscript to his agent, who then garnered bids from two publishers. That was nearly forty published novels, nonfiction books and anthologies ago.


This book is dedicated to my late husband, Jed Nolan, my hero, my best friend, my love.


Acknowledgments (#ulink_d0f3cf46-6ad7-579d-875a-b2e36f289e69)

The days and nights of writing this book were difficult and a struggle for me because my husband was dying of leukemia. Much of this manuscript was written in his hospital room and then the hospice room. My heart was breaking and my mind was often distracted, though I continued to write. The gratitude I have for my editor, Claire Caldwell, who was able to take my “compilation of sheets of paper” and be my pathfinder to the core of this story that we both knew was there under too much exposition, is as deep as the ocean. Thank you and bless you, Claire, for being all that you are for me.

And to Victoria Curran and Dianne Moggy for the heartfelt empathy you had and have for me. You have been my champions and I honor and cherish that.

A special hug to Rula Sinara, my Heartwarming blog partner and “sister” of the heart, who answered my midnight texts from Rush Hospital in Chicago. To Kate James, who listened and emailed endlessly to a woman she barely knew, but to whom she extended her friendship and caring. At the time, none of us knew the outcome, but you were all there offering hope.

Always, to Lissy Peace, my agent of over two decades, love and more love.

To ALL my Heartwarming author sisters who sent flowers, cards, phone calls, emails, text messages, each and every one of you saved my sanity and allowed my heart to begin to heal.

God bless you every one.


Contents

COVER (#u4c9f624e-38f6-5151-9c0d-57da4b35d6d1)

BACK COVER TEXT (#u2b424d3b-7c44-54d9-8d51-766ea9835357)

INTRODUCTION (#uebcd2253-5e5b-5699-8659-21992562588c)

Dear Reader (#ulink_39f0aa68-4125-51e7-8454-b074389fa574)

TITLE PAGE (#uc8738d2c-fce3-5b7e-8e15-2adf6c7cccb3)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR (#u9752218c-234f-5f05-b4df-b8f812b5b9df)

DEDICATION (#ua2bdeb1c-6509-5a88-b052-e80256ee04df)

Acknowledgments (#ulink_5d6f4bb0-b3bb-51b9-8097-85ad9d0c2d1c)

CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_4c349b21-5316-5745-9d62-b9694b0cd41d)

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_03c2c561-76b5-506f-95fe-d737dc819cca)

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_f0a3b877-166e-5884-ab36-f20a5d658690)

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_64c54965-6e0b-541e-9394-d47fb9c6953b)

CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_f35a1e9d-0db7-50cc-b8f3-84fd2cd5c221)

CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_3af1e047-362e-5529-a423-0e089b7367e4)

CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_5a114b31-98e5-5078-8a66-8e1bce50e552)

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)

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE (#litres_trial_promo)

EXTRACT (#litres_trial_promo)

COPYRIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_83bae755-7866-5142-8ae9-ae606c02c48b)

JACK WAS AT the bottom of a dank, wet drainage tunnel. He smelled earth, rain and blood. It was dark and he couldn’t see even a few inches in front of him. The ringing in his ears drowned out everything else. He felt as if there was something nibbling at his ankles. Rats? He hated rats. Just the thought of them made his stomach lurch. He tried to shake them off but couldn’t move his legs. No, not rats. It was pain. Shooting, biting, sharp pain that now went careening up his calves.

His thoughts were confused and morphed into one another, creating a senseless universe. That was it, he reasoned. He’d been catapulted into some black hole. Floating. Spinning. Weightless.

And alone. Utterly, completely alone.

Except for the pain. The pain was his bedfellow. His traveling companion. It overtook his entire body now. His spine felt as if someone had shot it with molten steel. His skull pounded in agony. He couldn’t open his eyes for fear that the tiniest beam of light would penetrate him like bullets.

Surely, he was dying.

This was what it was like at the end, he thought. Every cell in his body felt as if it had been shot with electricity strong enough to fry him to ash. No human could endure this kind of torture and live. No human would want to. This was the moment, that sliver of awareness that he was about to give up the ghost. And in his moment of choice, Jack knew it was okay to let go. Except for his sister and brother-in-law, he had no one. No wife. No children. No one would mourn him. He wouldn’t be missed.

Then he heard a familiar male voice, though he couldn’t place it.

“9-1-1? There’s been an accident. Hurry. We’re going to lose them!”

* * *

LIKE THE HIGH-PITCHED, irritating buzz of a mosquito, a voice reached into Jack’s consciousness. Impossible as that was to accept, he struggled to figure out what it was saying.

“Jack? Can you hear me? Help is coming. Stay with me.”

Jack had expected to talk to an angel upon dying, but this was a man’s voice. A young man who sounded vaguely like the new recruit he’d hired for his insurance agency, Owen Jacobs. Yes. His mind slowly ground into gear.

“Jack,” Owen said. “Can you hear the sirens? The cops are here. The ambulance, too. It’s going to be okay.”

Jack didn’t hear sirens. It took all his effort to listen to Owen’s voice, which he was positive was coming to him from the other end of a tunnel. Jack wanted to answer Owen, but there was so much blood in his mouth, all he could do was choke, cough and spit. His tongue refused to obey his commands.

Now that he was a little more aware, though, his training kicked in. Apparently, even in his last minutes on earth, he was an insurance agent through and through. He wanted to know all the particulars. Where was he? What happened? Why was he paralyzed and in pain? And what was Owen doing here in this tunnel, if that’s where they were? He wanted facts. Even if Owen was talking to him, Jack couldn’t be sure he’d understood all the words. Each wave of pain smothered reality like a desert haboob that engulfs land, water and all living creatures. Jack’s world now contained only himself and the pain. The incessant, unrelenting, excruciating pain.

For some reason he couldn’t open his eyes. Something had glued them shut. He forced himself to listen, to make out even the faintest sounds, but Owen’s voice had faded and all that was left were the surges of his pounding blood and rapidly beating heart. Mercifully, that one sound told him he was still alive. For the moment.

Just as Jack’s mind was beginning to ease away the fuzzy edges of confusion, a searing, debilitating pain shot across his forehead, making him feel as if his eyes had just been scorched out of their sockets.

Everything went black. Jack was floating in the galaxies again.

* * *

SOPHIE MATTUCHI HAD a little over an hour before she began her weekend night shift as a cardiac nurse in the ER at Indian Lake Hospital. Sophie had signed on for the extra hours because the ER was shorthanded and because she saw the need. Sophie always saw the need.

Although it was an unusually foggy evening, she pulled on her running shoes, determined to fit in a run around the three-mile running trail that circled the lake. It had been a rainy and cold early June, and before that, she’d felt as if winter would never end after a record four-foot snow pack that stayed until late March. Still, she hadn’t missed a single day’s run since she’d taken up the sport two years ago to keep her weight under control and her mind off Louise Railton’s extra creamy homemade ice creams. The city had installed LED street lights all along the trail that allowed fanatics like Sophie to run in just about any kind of weather.

Sophie had invested in the best running shoes, clothing and gadgets to track her fitness, and she’d downloaded motivational podcasts to listen to while she ran. There was nothing like starting her workdays or evenings with inspiring mantras to help her reinvent her life.

And these days, she was all about reinventing, restructuring, realigning and rebooting Sophie.

Ever since she’d kissed a very reluctant Scott Abbot in first grade, Sophie had been labeled the town flirt. For most of her life, she hadn’t minded the moniker at all. She liked boys. A lot. She liked flirting and dating and being around men. She liked living in a man’s world and she liked being as good as any man in her job. Sophie thought that men were more interesting than women, or at least she’d been telling herself that since high school because she’d never had many girlfriends. She was too busy dating two, three, four different guys in a single week. Sophie always took it upon herself to explore whatever world it was that her newest guy was into. Baseball, football, track, cars, boating, weight lifting. She didn’t care. They liked her because she was “interested” and she loved their attention. The truth was that Sophie learned to be good friends—and often more—with all the guys she knew. They liked holding her hand and stealing kisses on the Tilt-A-Whirl at the county fair.

However, the moment anything started to get serious, Sophie moved on. It had been the only way to handle her life when she was in school. She’d been dead set on obtaining her degree, and nothing and no one could stand in her way.

When she graduated, she’d spent a year at a hospital in Grand Rapids then moved back in with her parents to help them with her aging grandmother. What Sophie thought was going to be a single summer at home while she applied to top hospitals in Chicago and Indianapolis had evolved into an entire year. One year had turned into five. Her biggest surprise had been landing her dream job with Dr. Caldwell and Nate Barzonni.

In all that time, Sophie’s modus operandi for dealing with men never changed. She was an expert at getting a man’s attention, but once she’d landed him, she threw him back. Catch and release.

Sophie had come to realize that her commitment phobia and the lighthearted, devil-may-care persona she put on for the world to see, was just flat boring. Like a hamster in a cage, she was spinning her wheels and getting nowhere with her life.

The problem was that in a small town where everyone knew everyone’s business and had very long memories, her flirtatious ways had caused her to lose many people’s respect. And that was unacceptable to her.

Sticking her earbuds in her ears, Sophie smiled to herself. She bent down to press her nose to her knees as she clasped the backs of her thighs. She’d made some real changes over the past year.

Running had become nirvana for her and for the first time she had the body she’d always wanted. These days when she got depressed, she headed for the lake trail instead of a dish of Louise’s salted caramel and pecan ice cream. Her favorite store now was the organic farmer’s market. She had stamina that she hadn’t known before, and her weekend shifts at the ER, which could run as long as eighteen hours, didn’t compromise her regular weekday workload helping Dr. Nate Barzonni with heart surgeries.

Despite all these changes, Sophie hadn’t yet gotten a handle on love. She had no earthly idea how she’d overcome her bad habits, phobias and insecurities, but this was the year she’d start trying. Her self-help podcasts promised she could make it happen. She had to think differently and then she’d be able to make the right choices. She had to trust in the universe. Believe in the laws of attraction. Be the master of her own fate. Write her own script...

Her cell phone blared with an ambulance siren alert. It could only mean the ER was calling.

Sophie halted her run before it even started. She whipped the cell out of her shorts’ pocket. “Mattuchi here.”

The excited woman’s voice on the other end said, “How fast can you get here? We have a multiple-car accident on its way in from Highway 421. Possible DOA.”

“I’m there,” Sophie shouted into the phone, already sprinting toward her car.


CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_bdac6da2-54f0-56a0-ab1a-099a79ad9a91)

JACK CRAWLED OUT of the rabbit hole. Or maybe it was some kind of wartime trench. Lights were flashing like mortars and bombs exploded. But this wasn’t war. He’d never been in a war, though he’d seen those kinds of movies. Maybe he was in a movie. No. Impossible. This wasn’t the drainage tunnel either, because they’d moved him out of that.

But who were “they”?

“Can you hear me, Mr. Carter?” a woman asked in the softest, most melodious caress of a voice he’d ever heard. It came to him like the peals of church bells tumbling through a mountain valley, distant yet beckoning.

It had happened. He’d died. Life was over. Pfft. Just like that. And this voice was that of the angel sent from heaven or the beyond to take him to his new life. He was struck by the utter finality of it all.

A thousand regrets fluttered across his heart. Jack never thought of himself as a family man, but the first person he pictured was his sister, Ava. He’d never see her again. Nor his brother-in-law and business partner, Barry. Would Ava be okay without her big brother Jack to watch out for her? Would Barry be able to handle the company without Jack’s guidance? And what about his niece, Kaylee? She wasn’t even a year old yet. He’d arranged for a bank account in her name to start her college fund. Ava and Barry were planning to come to Indian Lake for Katia’s wedding. Jack had hoped to talk them into moving here. Or had he already done that?

Facts tumbled into Jack’s brain like slow-falling snow. No, Ava and Barry still lived in Chicago, but Katia said she missed Ava a great deal and had investigated housing options for them, should they decide to make the move.

Now that Jack believed he was dying, he wished he’d pressed the issue more. He’d missed six months of little Kaylee’s life. Suddenly, oddly, that realization was very important to him and the loss filled him with sadness.

He also realized how vital Katia was to him. She was more than his stellar salesperson, manager and second-in-command at the office. She was a dear friend. He loved her like a sister and she took care of him like he was her brother. Katia juggled her own life—right now, she was planning a wedding and a two-week honeymoon in Italy—managed his business, grew their sales and made certain that just about everything in Jack’s world ran smoothly. How would he manage without her while she and Austin were on their honeymoon?

But if I’m dead, I won’t care. Will I?

His head was a jumble of thoughts and he was having a difficult time sorting out the present from the past. He supposed that was to be expected, considering he was dying. Or was already dead. But how did he get here?

Jack’s head felt like it was torn in two. Pain seared through his temples like a sizzling lance.

If he was dead, why was he in such agony? Think, Jack. Think.

A minute ago he was driving his car, though he couldn’t remember where he was going. Then the squeal of his brakes, the thud of the initial impact with the other car; the grind, crunch and thunder of his car being mangled. And the voices. His voice—cursing. Owen shouting and cursing even louder than Jack. And Aleah’s blood-curdling scream. Then soft whimpers. Then nothing.

Aleah. She was the reason he’d insisted on this seminar in Chicago today. Katia had hired Aleah to be an assistant. Sweet kid. Only twenty-one but with the wired kind of energy he could only get from a triple cappuccino at Cupcakes and Coffee. She didn’t know a darned thing about insurance, but she was smart and so willing to please. Jack had wanted Aleah and Owen to learn as much as they could about the business as quickly as possible. Proper information and training were key. Jack didn’t have time to teach them all he wanted them to know, and this seminar was perfectly timed for his needs.

Needs.

“...needing immediate attention,” the angel voice said. “I’m so sorry if I cause you any more pain, Mr. Carter.” Her voice brought him back to the present. “I have to clean the glass out of your eyes.”

I’m not dying.

Hospital. I’m in a hospital.

She was wiping his mouth with a warm, wet cloth. With light dabs, she sponged at his nose and he realized that the musty smell he’d thought was the drainage tunnel had been the scent of his own blood. He heard, but did not see, the plinking sound of bits of glass as she plucked them away from his face and put them in a hard plastic container.

She leaned her face close to his and he smelled mint mouthwash and a floral perfume.

“Mr. Carter? I know you’ve been through a trial. The police said they had to use the Jaws of Life to get you and the woman out of the front seat.”

Jaws of Life... Was he alive now? He thought he was dead. Floating in the stars. No. He had to be alive because he felt excruciating pain.

“Aleah,” he said, but her name came out like a choke and was indecipherable even to him.

“Mr. Carter, I’m so sorry if I’m hurting you. Am I hurting you?”

The angel’s words somersaulted over each other and didn’t make a lot of sense, and then Jack realized it wasn’t the angel, it was the fact that his brain was working on slow track. But he didn’t mind letting her voice wash over him. It took away his fears.

Impossible as it was, he clung to hope.

“I know it’s difficult to talk. Just go slow, Mr. Carter. Try to say your name. Can you do that for me?” she urged.

He wanted to please her. He didn’t know why, but he thought there might be some kind of judgment about all this. He lifted his tongue. “J-Jack.”

“Wonderful,” she breathed. “Marvelous.” She smoothed the cloth over his right eye and continued to wash it before moving on to his left. “It’s looking good. You’ll probably need some stiches over your eyebrow and along your hairline. Can you open this eye for me?”

The struggle was like Sisyphus pushing his boulder up a mountain. His eyelid barely lifted and what little he could see swam in front of him like a school of silverfish on one of his snorkel dives in the Caribbean. “I’m—not blind?”

“No.” She chuckled softly. “The blood and glass had matted them shut. I’m almost done with the other eye. I’m glad to see that no glass hurt this one.” She continued cleaning his left eye then rinsed the cloth. She used what appeared to be a long pair of tweezers to remove a tiny flake of glass from his upper lash. “You have long lashes. Good thing. They helped to capture this little rascal.”

She wore medical gloves, but he could feel her warmth as she traced her fingertip over the top of his left eyelid. “I think you should go ahead and open this eye for me now.”

Jack couldn’t believe the enormity of his task. If he opened his eye and didn’t see, what would he do? How would he cope? Would he have to have surgery? What if there was no cure?

“You’ll be just fine,” she assured him, touching his forearm and holding his hand in hers. “I’m right here.” She offered him more comfort and more confidence than he’d thought possible. He realized he was deeply afraid.

He finally managed to get his eye open, and as he looked at her he realized that in some sacred part of him, he’d hoped this was heaven, and that she might be an angel. Yet his slow and beleaguered consciousness affirmed that he was alive. As his eyes focused through swollen and bruised lids, he saw a beautiful stranger with an illuminated smile and dark eyes that promised a universe filled with hope.

“Hello, Jack,” she said with that voice he knew would haunt him for the rest of his life, even if he never saw her again.

She had a heart-shaped face; naturally, being an angel of mercy and saving lives, she would be all heart. She wore a white lab coat over maroon scrubs. Her name tag rested over her right side, heart pocket.

S. Mattuchi. RN.

“Nurse Mattuchi?” Jack mumbled, feeling a jagged pain saw through his head.

“You can call me Sophie. The doctor has ordered more tests for you. I’ve assured him your heart is stellar.” She leaned close.

Jack caught a floral scent in her dark hair as she fluffed his pillow and continued talking.

“Hearts are my specialty,” she continued. “I’m a cardiac surgical nurse, but I help out in the ER when they need me.” She pulled away and added, “I was off duty but came immediately when I got the call about you and your friends.”

Friends?

Suddenly, Jack’s mind was alert and the jumbled pieces of information in his brain fell into place. He moved his sluggish and swollen tongue. “Owen and Aleah?” He reached for Sophie’s forearm and squeezed it anxiously. “Tell me.”

“Owen is just fine. A broken collarbone and a few bruises. Aleah is being examined by the doctor right now, as is the driver of the other car. We were quite worried about you. You were unconscious and I was afraid you’d been blinded.”

“What else— I mean...” He closed his eyes and felt a scratch across his eyeballs as if they were filled with sand. Even the most minute movement was so difficult. “Please. Sophie. What else happened?”

“You have whiplash. No broken bones, but your ankle is sprained. No internal injuries. We’ll keep you overnight for observation. That concussion is dangerous. The neurosurgeon will be down later to check on you and she’ll probably order a CT scan.”

“Neurosurgeon?” Jack’s fear meter leaped to high alert.

“We have to make sure there are no blood clots or other damage. Best to cover our bases. Yours and ours.”

Jack tried to nod and failed. “Good thinking.” He paused for a moment. Words were reluctant to move from his brain to his lips. “Your insurance carrier will commend you for your prudence.”

Her expression was quizzical. “I wasn’t thinking of our liability—I only want what’s best for all our patients.”

“Don’t...take me wrong—” Jack tried to sit up but failed. He slumped back on the pillows. He groaned as he tried to touch his aching head, but when he lifted his arm he saw the IV and several butterfly bandages over a nasty gash in his forearm. A fleeting worry about scarring shot through his mind, but he dismissed it. He’d come razor-close to losing his eyesight. He was thankful that, in all likelihood, he’d walk away from this with some scars on his arm, a badly sprained ankle and a headache.

A beep went off in Sophie’s lab coat pocket. Anxiety distorted her pretty features and suddenly her entire demeanor changed. Her motions were brusque, hurried, but exact as she tore a plastic wrapper away from a disposable hypodermic needle. She dabbed gauze with alcohol and cleaned his IV site, then took the IV line, unhooked it and cleaned both ends of the plastic connections before injecting a vial of medication into his IV. “This will help with the pain,” she said, glancing into the hallway. She turned back to him. “This is your call button if you need anything. I know you must be thirsty, but we can’t let you have anything to eat or drink for a while. If you feel nauseous, you hit that button immediately. Do you understand?”

Jack nodded, disconcerted by her stern tone, and suddenly realized that the soothing melody of her voice had distracted him from what was going on in the rest of the ER. Sophie peered through Jack’s privacy curtain, and he heard what sounded like dozens of people all talking at the same time. Orders were being shouted. Someone was rattling off clipped, terse instructions. Rubber-soled shoes and sneakers pounded against the linoleum floor. Wheels of gurneys wobbled and screeched.

Though it sounded like pandemonium to Jack, an outsider, he knew these were professionals. He believed in this hospital and its very qualified staff. After all, it was only a few months ago, thanks to Katia Stanislaus’s expertise, that he and his company had landed the insurance contract for the Indian Lake Hospital. He’d met with President Emory Wills himself. Jack also knew cardiac surgeon Nate Barzonni personally. He was an excellent surgeon and could have had his pick of positions at Sloan-Kettering in New York, but being the altruistic man he was, Nate chose to divide his work between the Indian reservations up in Michigan and here in Indian Lake.

It eased Jack’s nerves to know that he, Owen and Aleah were in very capable hands.

Still, Jack wanted to talk to somebody who knew what had happened to him and his employees in the fog on Highway 421 tonight. Had he gone off the road? Had he fallen asleep? Was this his fault? What could have caused all this suffering?

Just considering that he could be responsible in the slightest degree was intolerable. Guilt flooded him like a tsunami, taking over his thoughts and causing more agony than his physical pain.

His whole life, he’d tried to do the right thing in every circumstance. From striving to live up to his marine father’s demanding and impossible expectations to taking care of his sister and mother after his father’s death. He chose insurance as a career to help others protect their lives and their possessions. Jack Carter was a guardian.

In the blink of an eye, he had placed the people in his charge in jeopardy.

Now Jack had to face his darkest hour.

Just then, the air was split again with screams of human pain that Jack would never have imagined, even in his worst nightmares. He heard a man, a young man, yelling for help. Then he screamed again with such agony, Jack thought he must be torn in two. Jack wanted to cover his ears, but even if he could have, he knew he would never forget that scream for the rest of his life. It was so terrifying it sounded inhuman.

But above it all, he heard the high-pitched wail of a young girl’s terror that turned his blood to ice.

“That’s Aleah!” Jack growled as tears burned his swollen and bruised eyes.

A voice came over the loudspeaker. “Code Blue. Code Blue. Dr. Barzonni to the ER, stat.”

Sophie glanced back at Jack with pleading eyes as she burst away from his bedside. She flung back the curtain and said, “I want to help you, but I have to go to her.”

Jack reached out his aching arm to Sophie and motioned her away. “Save her, Sophie. Save her.”


CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_83e9ae25-d05b-5e52-a98f-3473d728e763)

SOPHIE RUSHED AROUND the nurse’s station to the ER bay on the opposite side. Bart Greyson, an RN with a decade of ER experience, had just gone in there with a stainless steel defibrillator cart.

Bart ran the ER with an iron fist and more stamina than the entire staff combined. He could pull over forty-eight hours on duty with only a half dozen, ten-minute catnaps while sitting at his computer. Bart had brains, insight and skill...and a case of Red Bull in his locker. He was a legend at Indian Lake. No one second-guessed Bart or his orders.

“You’re the first of the cardiac team here,” Bart said to Sophie as he shoved a medical chart into her hands.

“Dr. Barzonni is on call?” Sophie asked, never taking her eyes from her patient.

“I just got word he’s upstairs with an emergency surgery. We’ve paged Dr. Caldwell. I left a message at the nurse’s station, as well. I don’t know who will show up,” Bart replied with a huff of exhaustion. He stuck his hands on his hips. “Figures. It’s a full moon. It’s always an asylum here during a full moon.”

Sophie gently lifted Aleah’s eyelid and examined her. “I heard her scream but she’s unconscious,” Sophie observed.

“She was unconscious on arrival and except for that one time, she’s been unresponsive.”

Sophie turned to the defibrillator. “She’s in arrest?”

“No. Arrhythmia. The Code Blue was for the other victim. Dr. Hill had to leave Aleah and see to the John Doe. He was the driver of the other car. The cops are working on getting an ID for us.”

Sophie had worked with Dr. Eric Hill nearly every weekend since she’d begun her ER duties six months ago.

Dr. Hill was five years past his internship and residency at Cook County Hospital in Chicago. He’d told Sophie that in those five years, he felt he’d seen everything emergency medicine could throw at a person. He’d come to Indian Lake for a change of pace. Well, he’d gotten it. Unless there was a major accident like this one, most weekends in the ER were run-of-the-mill household accidents—falls or injuries with tools—and relatively minor illnesses where the patients or their parents didn’t have medical insurance.

Sophie watched Dr. Hill and three nurses work on a tall, overweight man in the next bay. He appeared to be in his late thirties. “He’s hardly got a scratch.”

“Drug overdose. Cops said he had heroin in the car with him and as the paramedics were tending to the three other victims, he shot up.”

“How are they bringing him down?”

“Paramedics gave him naloxone on site. Nasal spray was all they had. They didn’t get to him right away because he didn’t seem injured, just confused. It wasn’t until he dropped to his knees and passed out that they noticed the dilated pupils and white patches on his mouth. Once they got him here, we gave him more naloxone by injection. What a mess.” Bart shook his head but continued to work.

Sophie scanned Aleah’s reed-thin, very still body while two other members of the ER team hurried in to assist. Donna Jessup was one of Sophie’s coworkers on Dr. Caldwell’s team and worked one weekend a month in the ER. With her was Rob Seymore, a lab technician who quickly began drawing blood for the usual tests.

Aleah’s brown hair was matted to her head with glass and blood, much like Jack’s had been. She was still in her street clothes, though her blouse had been cut away and twelve electrodes had been placed on her chest.

“Donna, did you run an EKG yet?” Sophie asked.

“We had another cardiac patient just after these accident patients. It’s been bedlam, but I’m on it. I’m on it.” Donna attached the leads and turned on the EKG machine. She held the printout. “Infarction and atrial fibrillation.”

“A-fib?” Sophie circled the gurney and studied the printout. “Did Dr. Hill order an echocardiogram?”

Rob continued, “Yes. He was in the middle of examining her when the other patient started convulsing. And his heart stopped.”

Sophie flipped the pages of Aleah’s chart as Bart continued.

“Dr. Hill said Aleah’s suffered a blunt chest trauma which is quite obvious from the bruising. He ordered the requisite round of tests.”

“Did he mention cardiac contusion?”

Bart and Donna shook their heads.

“No, but it’s my guess...” Donna winced. “Sorry. It’s not my place to—”

“Don’t apologize.” She held up her hand, though she didn’t take her eyes off the chart. “If she’s ruptured the cardiac chamber or if there’s a disruption of the heart valve that could be the cause of her dysrhythmia.”

Sophie assessed more of Aleah’s condition. Her skin was growing more pale and gray by the second. The bruises on her chest were turning a deep purple. Sophie pressed lightly on Aleah’s ribs. “She’s broken nearly every rib on the right side.”

“Dr. Hill thinks her lung may be punctured,” Bart said. “He ordered thoracentesis.” He began inserting the catheter into Aleah’s chest while Sophie went around to the other side of the bed.

Sophie stuck the earpieces of her stethoscope into her ears and listened to Aleah’s chest. It rattled like a freight train and Aleah’s breathing was labored. She was bleeding internally, but until all the tests were run, they wouldn’t know the extent of the damage.

In the meantime, they had to get her stabilized. Aleah’s chest cavity was filling with blood and fluid, which would be putting pressure on her heart and lungs. Sophie didn’t want to guess how much time they had to prevent respiratory arrest or another—this time deadly—heart attack.

First, she needed do a thorough examination. In a trauma case like this, every nanosecond counted.

Sophie glanced at Bart as he continued to work. “She’s lost a lot of blood. Transfusion?”

“It just came down from upstairs.” He nodded to the stainless steel counter where the IV bag of blood sat. Donna was rushing with her EKG cart out of the bay. “Sophie, can you hook up the plasma for me?”

Immediately, Sophie attached the plasma bag to the IV and regulated the monitor. Then she felt for Aleah’s pulse. It was almost imperceptible it was so weak.

Bart finished with the catheter and Sophie turned to him. “Her chart says that she was born in this hospital. She had coronary artery abnormalities at birth.” She paused as Bart nodded gravely. “I’ll need Dr. Barzonni to confirm, but because of the trauma to the chest wall, blood flow to her heart could be severely diminished.”

As she spoke, she saw Nate Barzonni race into the ER. Dr. Hill quickly gave him the specifics about the addict’s condition. They both hung over the patient, assessing.

Sophie had worked with Nate for over a year now, and she knew his professional moves better than anyone. Though Nate always showed an implacable expression to his staff and the patient, when he raised his left eyebrow even a fraction, it meant he was concerned. If he dipped his chin to his chest, his brain was analyzing input like a computer. The longer his head remained bowed, the more difficult the case. The minute his head snapped up, Nate had made his diagnosis and decisions on how to proceed.

While Nate’s head was still lowered, the attending nurse said, “Blood pressure is ninety over fifty. Pulse is dropping, as well. Fifty. Forty-eight. Doctor, I have no pulse!”

The addict’s heart monitor flatlined. The alarms beeped. Sophie’s head shot up. Most people thought those sounds signaled pandemonium, but to her it meant action. All hands on deck. It was the moment when everyone’s skills, talents and expertise were paramount. They were like fine-tuned mechanics in a precision Swiss watch. Each cog, each spring was essential to the whole. Except they were not marking time as a clock would. They were racing against time. Trying to beat it to save a life.

“Defibrillator!” Nate shouted. He locked eyes with Sophie and nodded abruptly, with almost a jerk.

Sophie turned to Bart. “I’m going with Dr. Barzonni. You got this?”

“Go!” Bart said and continued his efforts to stabilize her.

As Sophie rushed between the beds, her gaze shot across the room. Jack Carter was sitting ramrod straight in the bed, staring at the action around him. His eyes bore into hers. For a fleeting second she thought she could read his mind.

What about Aleah?

Icy chills shot down her spine. She nearly turned and went back, but Nate needed her. The patient did, too. Once in the bay, she sprang into action. She pulled the paddles out of the defibrillator dock and spread them with lubricating gel. She handed the paddles to Nate. Holding her breath, she stood back as he placed one paddle on the left side of the man’s heart. The other he placed to the right over the sternum.

“Clear!” Nate said loudly as the attending nurse and Dr. Hill backed away.

Sophie hit the defibrillator’s button and watched the needle on the monitor jump as the electrical shock was discharged into the dying man.

The patient’s barrel chest heaved. His back arched as it rose off the gurney with the shock and then flopped back down. He remained still. Nate listened to his heart with the stethoscope. He checked the monitor.

Still flatlined.

Dr. Hill’s eyes were filled with defeat. He spun on his heel and rushed over to Aleah.

Sophie knew Dr. Hill was desperate to save all his patients. This loss was going to hit him hard.

“Again!” Nate said and presented the paddles to Sophie for more lubrication gel. He positioned the paddles.

“Clear!”

Sophie’s eyes were wide as she depressed the defibrillator’s button again. The monitor jumped.

This time the man’s body arched only slightly.

“Epinephrine!” Nate barked, holding out his hand for the vial that Sophie knew was the last hope.

Sophie reached over to the stainless steel tray where one of the nurses had already prepared the syringe. She grabbed it and properly placed it in Nate’s hand the way she did with all his surgical instruments. They worked well together. She knew it. And she knew he knew it, too.

Nate jammed the long needle straight into the patient’s heart and depressed the plunger. Sophie watched as the lifesaving serum left the syringe and hopefully did its job.

She checked the monitor.

Flatlined.

She hit the blood pressure machine hoping it would show even the tiniest indication of life.

Nothing.

Nate put his stethoscope to the man’s chest. Sophie knew what he was hoping to find—a blip. An echo. A whisper of life.

Nate straightened. He shook his head.

“I need you in the next bay, Doctor. She’s cardiac contusion I believe, with a history of dysfunctional coronary arteries from birth,” Sophie said to Nate.

“How old?”

“Twenty-one. Punctured lung. We’re doing thoracentesis now. She’s A-fib,” Sophie explained in soft but professional tones as they walked over to where Aleah clung to life.

Sophie struggled not to glance over at Jack, but noticed he was now sitting on the side of his gurney, legs over the side, hands clenched on the edge of the bed. He looked like a man ready to bolt.

His eyes were dark with anger, pain and confusion. She saw his mouth move. She realized that the word he kept saying was “Please.”

Bart handed the catheter over to Dr. Hill. They had now siphoned over a quart of fluid from Aleah’s chest cavity.

“Sophie,” Dr. Hill said. “Take over for me. Bart, get Donna back here.”

Bart bolted from the bay.

Sophie went to work while Dr. Hill and Nate conferred. Nate listened to Aleah’s heart.

Sophie depressed the button on Aleah’s blood pressure machine, which squeezed the cuff on her upper arm. “Ninety-five over sixty.” She looked up at Nate. “She should be improving with the tube in her chest. Not getting worse.”

Sophie needed Nate’s brilliance to take the lead in Aleah’s case. The girl’s lips were turning blue. Sophie took her pulse and then her blood pressure once again to be certain. “She’s dropping.”

Suddenly, the heart monitor flatlined.

“Get me those paddles!” Nate motioned to the defibrillator at the head of the gurney.

Sophie grabbed the paddles, lubricated them and handed them to Nate, who placed them on Aleah’s chest.

Just as she’d done only minutes ago, she pressed the button to send the electrical current into Aleah’s body.

Sophie felt as if she were falling over a rushing waterfall. The sounds in the room, the alarm of the heart monitor, Dr. Hill’s voice and Nate’s commands swam together and created an undecipherable cacophony. Her motions were rote.

Sophie could almost feel Aleah’s soul leaving her body. She glanced above Aleah’s head to see if there were any odd lights in the room. Her grandmother had told her that souls exited the body through the top of the head. Probably an old wives’ tale from Italy. But something was happening here. Sophie could feel it.

Nate shocked Aleah’s body a second time, but to no avail. Again, he called for the injection of epinephrine and Sophie watched as he rammed it into Aleah’s small chest.

Aleah was completely lifeless, but Nate didn’t give up. He placed the paddles again and commanded Sophie to hit the button.

The heart monitor was still flatlined.

They’d lost. Death had won. The monitor’s long, droning alarm was telling her she hadn’t performed her duties correctly.

Dark thoughts filled her mind, putting an acrid taste in her mouth. She couldn’t find the strength to beat them back to their cave.

She felt utterly inadequate. She wished she’d continued with school. She should have become a doctor. Maybe with more knowledge she would have known how to save this young woman. Though she was certain that Aleah’s chances had been worse than the man in the next bay, and he hadn’t made it, either.

Sophie blinked slowly. Time trudged forward as though she was moving through a thick gelatin. She felt weightless and leaden simultaneously. She would have liked to sit right down on the floor and go to sleep.

“Nurse Mattuchi!” Nate shouted.

“Yes, Doctor?” Sophie snapped out of it. Whatever it was.

“Are you okay?” He pulled off his latex gloves.

She looked down at Aleah’s lifeless body. “She...”

“Never had a chance,” Nate said. “I’m surprised she lasted this long. Your assessment was on target. So was Dr. Hill’s. I also think she was anorexic.”

Sophie’s eyes flew to Aleah’s body. She understood what Dr. Barzonni was saying. The improper balance of electrolytes alone, in an anorexic person, was enough to bring on a heart attack. Aleah had a congenital heart condition, anorexia and blunt chest trauma. “I thought she was rather thin. It just didn’t register.”

“This was a massive trauma. She was hit very hard. I’ll get more about it from the cops outside. But with her birth defect and the punctured lung...” He shook his head and put his hand on her shoulder. “You did all you could.”

“I wonder...” she started.

“No,” Nate said and turned to Dr. Hill. “Eric, you and I will have a lot of paperwork. Do you know if either family is here?”

“Just the girl’s,” Bart interrupted. “We’re still searching for the John Doe’s family. He was driving without a wallet or any papers. Maybe the cops have an update.”

“I’ll talk to the police,” Dr. Hill said.

“And I’ll handle Aleah’s family,” Nate volunteered.

“We still have Mr. Carter here overnight,” Dr. Hill said. “Nurse Mattuchi, you’re on duty?”

“Yes, Doctor. I’ll see to him.”

“I want a CT scan. I want no other—” He swallowed hard. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” she replied, softly feeling a flood of empathy for both these highly trained professionals who had lost not one, but two patients in a matter of minutes.

Sophie checked the clock. It had only been twenty-five minutes since all three victims had been brought in. She’d been assigned to Jack Carter first. She’d spent fifteen of those minutes with him. Then five minutes with Aleah before the John Doe flatlined. In the final five minutes, they’d lost both of them.

Time. Sophie had never taken time for granted. She trained hard and worked hard. She spent time with her family and helped them out whenever she could. But this absurd, needless loss of two lives shocked her to her core. Aleah had only been twenty-one. The man was in his late thirties. They both had a lot of life in front of them. They could do anything they wanted to with their time. Laugh. Love. Try to find happiness and joy...

Odd that Sophie would think of happiness at a time like this, but she did. She felt tears fill her eyes as she covered Aleah’s body, but not her face, with the sheet. Her parents would want to come in to see her. Sophie would meet with them and try to comfort them. She hoped she would find the right words to say. Good words. Or maybe no words. Maybe they would just ask her to go away.

Sophie wiped the tears off her cheeks with her fingertips. She wasn’t just crying for this young woman. She was crying for herself. She believed she’d done all she could as part of the team tonight. These were tears of self-pity. They came from a deep and lonely place inside of her. A place she seldom visited and barely acknowledged. She guessed these tears had been trying to form for a long time, but she’d told herself that crying was for weaklings. She was strong. She was able to handle just about anything, including injury, illness and death.

But happiness? That was really tough.

Sophie’s twenties were nearly behind her and she’d done little to grab happiness for herself.

She couldn’t afford to wait any longer. Tonight had shown her how lives could be snatched away in an instant. Oh, she’d begun her self-evaluations and internal makeover, but she’d only stuck the spade into the first few inches of her psyche. She had a lot of digging to do before she’d find treasure.

For the first time, though, she thought she knew what she was looking for.

Happiness.

She just hoped she recognized it when she uncovered it.


CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_d8bc3095-50ae-5834-8a82-cebf3a7b25b0)

JACK WAITED ON teetering legs for some definitive word about Aleah. He’d heard the commotion. He’d heard the second round of instructions for a defibrillator. He’d heard the second heart monitor announce the dreaded flatline bleep, but he couldn’t see around the heads of the doctors and nurses. He watched people going in and racing out. Then suddenly, they all stopped moving and became still.

Aleah was dead.

Jack’s mouth had gone dry and his blood had turned cold. It had been a long time since he’d experienced death that was close to him. Not since his father died. He’d mourned him deeply, but his father had battled cancer for over two years. The family had expected him to die. He’d been prepared.

Jack battled the biting tears and thunder in his chest. He’d liked being a mentor to Aleah. She and Owen were only a decade or so younger than he, but right now, he felt ancient.

All his concerns from earlier in the day came back to him suddenly: his banter with his sister and brother-in-law, his anxiety over the White Sox’s loss to the Yankees. Even the ambitions he’d been mulling over after the seminar seemed trivial compared to what he was facing now. He would give everything he had to save his sweet, unsuspecting assistant from death.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. This shouldn’t have happened. It was a mistake. Some cruel trick of the universe. And it was hitting Jack hard.

He wished he felt stronger because he wanted to do something. He was so confused, and Jack was seldom confused. He prided himself on his ability to stay focused. Responsible. That’s what everyone in his family had called him. He was their rock. He was the leader.

If only he could remember the accident. Maybe he could have prevented it, but the pieces of his memory were as vague as the fog he’d been driving through.

Jack watched as Nate Barzonni shuffled down the hall with a somber face, his hands shoved into the pockets of his surgical scrubs. He moved like a man carrying a cross. Jack knew Nate and Maddie Barzonni both. He was almost a daily customer at Cupcakes and Coffee. Maddie’s brew was legendary and her made-to-order cupcakes and icings were his must-have indulgence.

Jack hobbled to the entry of his bay. A sharp pain made a jagged path up his calf.

His ankle hurt more than he’d anticipated. “Nate, please. What happened?” He had so many questions.

Nate barely glanced at him, giving him a dismissive nod. Then Jack saw the raw pain in Nate’s eyes. He understood.

“Jack, I’m sorry about your assistant. Real sorry. But I have to see her parents. Is that okay?” Nate choked out the words and shook his head sorrowfully. “I can’t...not right now.”

“It’s okay,” Jack replied empathetically.

Nate gave Jack a slight wave and then practically jogged to the ER exit doors.

Jack had never seen Nate like this. How often did a doctor lose a patient? Once a year? Once a month? And Nate had lost two in a matter of minutes. How did a doctor, with years of training and the most up-to-date studies and research, handle something like this? Did they take it personally? Even if there was nothing more they could do, this had to feel like a failure. Did it affect them emotionally?

As far as Jack could tell the rest of the staff went about their work as if nothing had happened. Except for Nate, Jack hadn’t seen one iota of remorse from the other doctor or the nurses. He told himself they had work to do. Serious work. But it still stung.

Jack felt hollow. He glanced at the bed and wondered how he’d make it back under his own steam.

“Mr. Carter,” Sophie addressed him professionally as she rushed toward him. “What are you doing? You’re not supposed to be walking around yet. It’s dangerous. You have to stay in bed.”

She put her hands on his shoulders, and with more strength and force than he’d thought possible, she led him to the bed and pressed him into it. He sat on the edge, refusing to lie down.

“What happened to Aleah?” he asked.

“Cardiac arrest.”

Jack felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. Aleah’s heart was young, but that wasn’t enough to keep her alive. He lifted his eyes to Sophie.

She was composed and self-assured. Yeah, she was good. He had to give her that.

He felt hollow, yet his insides burned with the unfairness of it all.

He balled his fist. Flexed it. Balled it again.

She bent over and grabbed his ankles, favoring his sprain, and spun his legs up and onto the cot. “We have to get that CT scan. Dr. Hill is concerned...”

Jack pounded the gurney with his fist.

“Concerned? About me? He should have been concerned—” Jack nearly spit the word out “—when he had a chance to save Aleah. Maybe you should have been, too. You left her to go to that monster...that addict who killed her.”

Sophie’s jaw dropped. “How did you know he was an addict?”

Jack jerked his head toward the ER entry doors where two policemen stood talking to Dr. Hill. “Cops. They said they have to get a statement from me.”

“Not yet. You have to rest.”

“I’m not taking orders from you—”

She placed three fingers over his lips. “Shh. Don’t say something you’ll regret,” she whispered.

“Regret? I’m not the one with regrets. You let Aleah die,” he growled.

Sophie’s eyes widened with shock. “That man, that patient—” She stumbled.

Jack could see her ire rising as she continued. “He’d gone into cardiac arrest. At that very same moment, Aleah was holding on. My colleagues were stabilizing her. My judgment was that we had a chance to save them both.”

“Well, your judgment was incorrect. Your judgment was skewed.” Now that Jack’s anger was ignited, he couldn’t stop himself. “Frankly, I don’t know where your priorities are. An addict who nearly killed all three of us and did kill Aleah, made the choice to drive high. He didn’t deserve your concern, or Dr. Hill’s.” Jack was so filled with rage that he felt light-headed. He wasn’t sure if he’d made his point, so he balled his fist again and slammed it against the bed. The plastic beneath him crackled.

Jack felt woozy as he stared at his hand. How practical of hospitals to put plastic under the thin sheets. Plastic. So that the blood wouldn’t ooze through when a person bled out. Plastic protected the mattress but did nothing to save the patient. Plastic, like the black bags they used to take bodies to the morgue.

“Plastic,” Jack mumbled as he dropped his head back onto the pillow.

“Mr. Carter? Jack? Can you hear me?”

He knew his eyes were rolling around because the room was spinning.

He heard Sophie dash over to the nurse’s station.

“Doctor Hill. Stat!” she yelled into the intercom.

Jack hated that his head injury was getting in the way of his tirade. That’s exactly what it was, he realized. He was accusing the hospital and its staff of bad practice. He didn’t know if it was malpractice, but he blamed them all the same.

Aleah was dead. A terrifying fact that he knew he still hadn’t come to grips with.

“Doctor Hill, I think he’s in shock,” Sophie said, though he couldn’t see her anymore. Where did she go? She was just here a minute ago. Now the room was dark. Vacant. Like that drainage tunnel he’d been in before. That was it. He’d gone back to the place where it all started.

Maybe he’d find some answers there. Perhaps even solace.

* * *

SOPHIE TOOK JACK’S blood pressure while Dr. Hill examined him.

“He’s asleep. I would be out cold myself if I’d been through all that he has tonight. Take him down for the CT scan. He’ll wake up once he’s there.”

Sophie chewed her bottom lip as Dr. Hill straightened. “What?”

“Jack—er, Mr. Carter thinks we were negligent with Aleah. He thinks we should have let the other patient die in order to treat her.”

“Good thing Mr. Carter doesn’t run this hospital. We used our best judgment. We’re not divine. We do the best we can.” Dr. Hill touched Sophie’s shoulder. “Besides, Mr. Carter here should be singing your praises. If it hadn’t been for you getting that glass out of his eyes, he could have been severely impaired.”

“He doesn’t know that. He thinks I was simply cleaning him up.”

Dr. Hill raised his chin and peered at her. “I don’t mind setting him straight. Be glad to do it, especially if he’s accusing us—”

She put up her hand to interrupt. “Not us. He’s questioning me.”

Dr. Hill squeezed her shoulder gently and smiled. “Don’t take it so hard. He’s had a very rough night. You know as well as I do that irritability is a sign of concussion. He’s confused and has complained to Bart Greyson of both double vision and sensitivity to light. Oh, by the way, I’ll order an EEG, as well.”

Sophie was surprised because an EEG was only required when the patient had been having seizures. “Yes, Doctor.”

“I realize it’s overly cautious, but just in case this fellow is more than simply irritable and decides to follow through with a malpractice suit, I want our examination to be as thorough as possible.”

Sophie hated how the medical world had been forced to adapt to the tort wars. Extraneous tests were performed as a standard course of action in even the simplest cases. A broken toe, if not properly x-rayed and treated, followed up on, double-checked and documented could cost the hospital hundreds of thousands of dollars in lawsuits. Sophie despised the whole system. The paperwork and extra steps she had to perform for the administration, which, rightfully, was trying to keep the entire hospital safe, took time away from her patients.

Her eyes dropped to Jack. Patients like Jack.

When she’d been tending him, she’d felt a pleasant and approachable energy that instantly caused her to like him. He’d looked at her with the anguish and wariness she often saw in patients. She’d sensed she was his link to the world in that moment. It wasn’t the first time Sophie had seen that deep pleading, felt the clutch of fingers around her wrist or witnessed a tear slide down a lonely cheek. But there was something else...

When she’d placed her fingers over his lips, she’d intuited his tenderness. She didn’t actually know anything about him except his blood type, blood pressure, height and weight, but she believed he was a gentle man.

That was why she’d been quite shocked when he’d turned on her. He was an enigma and that fascinated her.

“You’re right, Doctor. It’s best to be safe.”

“Cover our butts,” he replied, moving toward the curtain. “Page me when you’re back down from Radiology. And don’t let him sleep any more than two hours at a time.”

She chuckled. “That won’t be a problem. This is a hospital.”

* * *

BY SATURDAY MORNING, Sophie was wired on too many cups of bitter break-room coffee and a late-night cafeteria meal that didn’t sit well. The ER had been calm after the turmoil of the car accident. That alone was a blessing, she thought. Most of the staff went about their paperwork and duties with solemn faces, their thoughts easily readable in their anguished eyes. Sophie wasn’t sure how many people died on ER tables typically. She’d only been working in the ER for a little over six months, but in a small town where everyone knew everyone else, or at least their business, death touched them all

Bart, who had just come back on duty, scurried from bay to bay, reviewing Donna and Bob’s documentation in patient charts and checking in with the pharmacy about orders he’d placed. Though Bart appeared to have put the tragedies behind him, Sophie suspected his actions were all a cover-up.

She’d spent nearly the entire night with Jack Carter. She took his vitals every hour. Woke him up and forced him to drink water. She helped him to the bathroom and helped him back to bed. Jack shirked off her assistance at first, but when he realized he was dizzy and his legs were still wobbly, he insisted Sophie get him another nurse. Sophie tried to grant his wish, but she was told they were short-staffed. He was stuck with her.

Now Sophie was bringing Jack his dismissal papers, a list of follow-up appointments and home-care instructions, prescription Tylenol for the headaches he complained about and fresh gauze and bandages for his lacerations.

He was sitting up with two pillows behind his back. “Who put me in this gown?” he demanded roughly.

Sophie smiled. “Good morning to you, too.”

“Was it you?”

“Yes.” She wouldn’t let him intimidate her with his sour expression. His dark stubble enhanced his good looks, even though his eyes were still so swollen and bruised he could easily be mistaken for a boxer who’d lost a match. She stopped abruptly.

She thought he was handsome? Where had that thought come from?

Don’t go there, Sophie.

Jack Carter was her patient. That was all. He was certainly not the type of guy she would have had a fling with in the past. He was very, very different. For one, he despised her right now. And two, it was unethical to date patients. And she was done with flings, anyway.

Jack bristled. “Where’d you put my clothes?”

“In the closet. What’s left of them, that is. I didn’t have time to send them out to the laundry if that’s what you want to know. But I did go down to the gift shop to buy you a T-shirt.”

She opened the plastic bag and pulled out a pink breast cancer T-shirt with the looped ribbon logo on the front. “It was all they had. I got a large.”

“It’s pink.” He reached out and snatched it from her hand, his lips twitching. “My mother says I look good in pink.”

“I’m sure you do.” Sophie smiled. “I’ll help you get dressed.”

Jack threw his hands up. “No thanks! I think you’ve seen enough. Who knows what you checked out while I was sleeping.”

“Mr. Carter, I’m a nurse. It’s my job. I stayed with you most of the night to make sure you didn’t slip into a coma.”

“Coma?” His eyes widened as much as they could with stitches and swelling. “You guys were afraid I would fall into a coma?”

“We had to take precautions, yes. Several times you, er, fell asleep on us.”

“Passed out. I remember,” he said, touching his forehead and wincing. He patted the dressings around his eyes then made a face. “I bit my cheeks, as well.” He hugged himself, his muscular arms flexing.

Sophie dragged her eyes off his battered face. She was drawn to his vulnerability. She’d always prided herself on her professional yet empathetic care, but something about this man made her heart ache more than usual. She glanced at the papers in her hand. “You’ll need plenty of rest once you get home. You should tell your wife—”

“I’m not married,” he interrupted.

She looked at him. She knew that. Nate had told Sophie who Jack was. When Sophie had asked him earlier if he wanted her to call Katia, he’d refused. Katia and Austin were out of town for the weekend. No girlfriend had come to see him last night. His emergency contact was his sister, Ava, but she lived in Illinois and Jack told Sophie he’d make his own phone calls when he was up to it. He hadn’t asked for anyone but Aleah. Jack had been so confused and out of it, and Sophie knew from experience that victims sometimes couldn’t even remember their own names. She had to be sure.

But why, Sophie?

Habit. That’s all it was. Her reaction to Jack was habit. She’d been a man magnet for so long, she didn’t know how to meet an attractive man on any other basis.

Ugh. She had a real problem.

“Well, someone needs to see you through the next twenty-four hours to make absolutely certain there are no complications from the concussion. You’ll need to see Dr. Hill in his regular hours to have the stitches removed. And we suggest that you see an ophthalmologist immediately about your eyes. You were asleep, but we had Dr. Mason come in and give you an exam. He’ll see you Monday afternoon. The rest of your instructions are the usual. Hydrate. Eat properly. Get rest and no sports for two weeks.”

“What? No sports?”

Was he serious? Sophie cocked her head. “Is there a problem? Are you on a summer baseball league or something?”

“No, but I run. A lot. Every day. I can’t live without running.”

She put her hands on her hips. “You have a sprained ankle. It won’t let you run for at least ten days.”

“I can handle that. A week or so. Fine,” he harrumphed.

“So,” she probed, unable to stop herself. “Where do you run?”

“Around the lake. That’s where I live. Running is my life.”

She shook her head emphatically. “You’ll have to live without it for two weeks. In addition to the sprain, you could risk a second concussion. If you aren’t fully healed from this first one, a second could increase the chances of swelling in the brain. Most concussions are not terribly dangerous, but a second one could be fatal.”

“Fatal?”

Sophie cringed, realizing the word would remind him of Aleah’s death. But since she couldn’t take it back, this was as good a time as any to test Dr. Hill’s theory that it had been shock and irritability alone that had made Jack accuse Sophie of abandoning Aleah in favor of another—and in his opinion, less deserving—patient.

“A concussion sometimes takes months to heal. Our advice is that you take it easy the next few weeks to a month. Don’t push. There will be plenty of time for running in the fall.”

Jack’s eyes fell away from Sophie’s face as he turned his head to the window. She followed his gaze to the fully leafed maple trees outside.

“A month would be torture,” he said quietly, as if accepting his defeat. “But I’ll try.”

“Excellent.” She went to the closet and pulled out his ripped but wearable pants, shoes, socks and underwear. His tattered shirt she’d put in a plastic bag.

“Where’s my sport jacket?” he asked.

“You didn’t come in with it,” she replied.

His brows knit together and she could tell it was an effort for him to think and remember. “I put it in the backseat with Owen.”

“Mr. Carter, I need to make arrangements for your dismissal. You’re not allowed to drive for the next week. Who should I call to come get you?”

Jack’s eyelids drooped and he lowered his chin to his chest. “Don’t tell me I can’t drive. I have to drive. I have to work. I have to go to Aleah’s funeral...”

Sophie let Jack take a moment with his thoughts before interrupting him. He was being forced by the circumstances to take a lot in. She truly felt for trauma victims and their families. One minute their lives were normal and made sense. In the flash of an exploding gas main, a head-on collision, a tornado, a drive-by shooting, an accidental overdose of prescription medication, a drowning... Their lives would never be the same. Jack Carter was still able to walk and talk and function. He hadn’t lost a limb. He hadn’t lost his eyesight. He hadn’t lost his mind. He had to give up running and driving for a short time, but even though he groused, she knew that he’d be just fine. He’d cope. He had to.

But she knew he didn’t see it that way. What harangued Jack was that Aleah had died. His young assistant wouldn’t be in his office on Monday. He would meet with her family and he would go to the visitation. Then the funeral and burial.

Sophie understood that even though he’d have a full physical recovery, Jack’s world would be forever altered.

She placed his shoes on the floor, turning them so he could slip his feet in more easily. Even this simple thing would be hard for the next little while.

It was her way of trying to say she was sorry about Aleah without admitting any guilt. The hospital was not at fault. Dr. Hill and Dr. Barzonni had both told her that no one was.

But Sophie knew that some part of Jack would always believe she had committed the gravest of errors.

He met her eyes as she straightened up. There was no spark, no hint of the flirtation she often found with men. There was only anger and blame.

“If you have no one to take you home, I’ll drive you,” she said.

“I’ll get a cab,” he huffed.

She ground her jaw and could feel her heels digging into the linoleum. “I’ll drive you home and I will make sure you are inside the door safe and sound.”

“Forget it,” he said.

“Fine. Then I’ll tell the staff you’ll be staying here through the rest of the weekend.”

“You can’t do that!”

“I can do anything I feel I need to do for the well-being of my patient,” she retorted.

Jack snorted and punched the bed. “Fine. But I’ll dress myself.”

“Absolutely,” she chimed in. “I wouldn’t want to do anything that made you uncomfortable.” She went to the curtains and pulled them around the track to give him privacy.

As she walked out, she heard Jack growl, “After this, I hope I never lay eyes on you again.”


CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_5b368cdd-8279-5189-821d-dcdad6d503f2)

“THIS IS WHERE you live?” Sophie peered through her windshield at the white three-story condo building tucked into a mass of oak, pine and maple trees on the northwest shore of Indian Lake. “I didn’t know these were here. Looks like only four units,” she mused, thinking how much she’d love to live by the water. Wouldn’t everybody? She leaned over the steering wheel to see the second-floor deck. Instead of a typical railing, twisted steel designed to resemble nautical ropes ran between white posts. “When you said the condos on the lake, I thought you meant those ugly brown monstrosities that look like a federal penitentiary. This is absolutely beautiful.”

“Thanks. Cate Sullivan found it and worked the deal for me.”

“Wow,” Sophie gushed, inspecting the private outdoor staircase that led down to the beach, a drive-in first-floor garage. The second story obviously held the main living space and on the third story were the bedrooms. She’d seen these floor plans all over the south end of Lake Michigan. She smiled as she saw a chimney wall, which could only mean a wood-burning fireplace.

She heard the seat belt alarm ping as Jack undid his belt.

“Well, thanks for the ride,” he said with a perfunctory nod.

Sophie spun to face him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Leaving,” he replied, his tone so brittle she snapped her head back.

“Not without me.”

He glared at her. “I think I can make it on my own.”

She gave him a daring look. “Think so? Go for it.”

Jack snickered, got out and slammed the door. He stood perfectly still for a long moment and then leaned against the car.

Sophie had already unhooked her seat belt and opened her door in the time it took him to shut his. Before he could say a word, she raced over and wrapped her arm around his waist.

“I’ve got this,” he said.

“I see that.”

She walked him up to the garage door and he punched in his security code.

“Am I having a second concussion?” he asked.

“You’ve barely eaten since the accident. You’re fine. Nothing that chicken parmesan and spaghetti wouldn’t cure.”

Jack opened the door and wrestled away from Sophie’s grasp. “I can make it.”

She glanced up the stairs. “Let me be the judge.”

Jack clung to the railing, but he managed to take the stairs at an almost normal pace.

Sophie followed him to the first-floor living area. It was completely open. Living, dining, kitchen and a small study co-existed under a high-pitched, beamed ceiling. A massive river rock fireplace filled the left wall. The wall facing the lake was entirely glass, and the view was stunning.

Sophie was struck by the emptiness of the place. There was hardly any furniture. In the study alcove was a desk, chair and computer. A printer and a small television set. There were no sofas, chairs, tables or lamps in the living room and no dining table. Just bar stools. The condo’s kitchen was a cook’s dream, with a six-burner gas stove, double convection ovens, dishwasher, a double-wide Sub-Zero refrigerator, a six-foot-tall wine cooler with glass doors and yards of granite countertop. However, except for an espresso machine and a commercial-grade juicer, there was nothing on the counters. No knickknacks, no canisters. It was as if he’d just moved in, but she didn’t see packing boxes anywhere.

Obviously, Jack put all his energy into his business and his employees. He hadn’t done much for himself at all. In that way, they were very much alike.

Jack lumbered over to one of the bar stools and sat down. He rubbed his injured ankle and then put his elbows on the tortoiseshell granite countertop. “So. I’m good. You can leave.”

Sophie stuck her hand on her hip. “I’m going as soon as you eat something.”

He shook his head. “Will this nightmare never end?”

Sophie went to the stainless steel Sub-Zero refrigerator and opened the door. The shelves were filled with carrots, turnips, kale, spinach, tomatoes, cucumbers, lemons, limes, apricots, peaches and berries. She saw almond milk, coconut milk, protein powder, protein shakes and an entire shelf of vitamins.

“You keep your vitamins in the fridge?”

He slid his arms across the counter and laid his head on them. “Just give me one of my power drinks.”

Sophie clucked her tongue as she pulled out a vanilla shake and popped the pull tab. She handed it to him. “There’s no garlic in that refrigerator.”

“I don’t like garlic,” he said, taking the drink and chugging it.

“What kind of guy doesn’t like garlic? Every Italian dish my grandmother taught me has garlic. It’s a food group all its own.”

He slammed the can down on the counter. “I don’t like Italian food, either.”

Sophie cleared her throat. “I can see you’ll be okay. Get some rest and don’t forget your appointments on Monday.” She took her car keys out of her pocket and headed for the staircase.

Just as she reached the newel post, she looked back. He was staring at the counter and not at her. “Jack. I’m sorry about Aleah.”

Jack’s face contorted with pain, anger and sorrow. “Please, Sophie. Just leave.”

She rushed down the stairs and out of the garage. As she started her car, she realized she was crying. Her tears flowed like a dam that had burst. From the moment the accident victims had been brought into the ER, Sophie had checked her emotions. She’d kept her mind on her work and the duties she needed to perform in the moment. She and the other team members lived in a bubble during events like that. There was no past and no future. Only the instant. A tiny fraction of time where souls were suspended between the life on earth and the world after this one. The decisions she made had been critical. And everlasting.

Was Jack right?

Had she made the wrong choice about Aleah? If she’d stayed with her, if they’d done tests or performed the thoracentesis sooner, would that have made a difference? Would they have gained another five or ten minutes that might have allowed the defibrillator to do its job?

Was Nate correct that Aleah was likely anorexic? Were her electrolytes to blame for her heart attack? Was it true that she’d never had a chance in the first place?

Sophie drove out of the wooded glen and back to the road that led to town. She turned left instead of right so she could drive around the lake. The lake helped her collect her thoughts. Often, after a particularly hard day of surgeries, if she couldn’t run the lake trails, she would at least drive around it to clear her mind. The water, whether choppy or placid, gray or crystal blue calmed her. But not today.

Today, Sophie didn’t feel much like giving thanks or praise. Her heart was as heavy as Jack Carter’s. She wondered if one of the reasons he’d urged her to leave so quickly was because he wanted to drown himself in tears just as she was doing.

* * *

IT HAD BEEN two weeks since Aleah’s death and today was the first day Sophie had felt like stepping beyond the boundaries of the hospital or her apartment.

She sat on a red-leather-and-chrome fifties-style stool at the lunch counter at Lou’s Diner, sipping an iced tea while she waited for her lunch. She liked the former train car that had been turned into a retro diner years ago. In the next car over was The LTD, also run by Lou, which served gourmet meals that made Sophie drool just reading the menu. She’d only eaten in The LTD once. That was the night of her graduation, when she’d received her RN. Her father had been healthy then and her mother was electric with pride. Even her Italian grandmother, who spoke little English, agreed to eat in an American restaurant. It had been a hallmark day for the Mattuchi family.

Sophie tried to remember what dreams she’d had for herself then. Mostly, she’d just been happy to be done with finals and evaluations.

However, she must have had some ambition because she’d only worked for a year at Grand Rapids Hospital before she realized she wanted more. She’d decided to specialize in cardiac surgery. She went back to school to get her master’s degree in nursing science and then she entered a highly competitive fellowship program to specialize in cardiovascular care. During her placement, she often felt she was only a half-step behind the heart surgeons she worked alongside. Until she returned home to Indian Lake. Once she started working with Nate Barzonni, she realized that there truly were gifted, intuitive talents in every field. Nate was a virtuoso. A genius. He could have written his own ticket to the country’s top hospitals, but Nate had decided the fast lane was not for him. He spent nearly as much of his time working at a free clinic on an Indian reservation as he did in the high-tech ablation unit at Indian Lake Hospital.

Still, Sophie supposed that Nate’s main reason for setting up shop in Indian Lake was Maddie Strong—now his wife. Sophie grimaced, remembering how she’d literally thrown herself at him when he’d first moved back to town. She had decided that to win Nate Barzonni, she’d attempt a makeover. Granted, her initial thoughts were veering down the right path because she’d needed to make changes. But she should have realized that her tactics had “disaster” written all over them.

Sophie had chopped off her hair and streaked it blond to look as much like Maddie Strong as possible, since Maddie had been Nate’s type when they were in high school. She went on a diet and lost eight pounds. She bought new clothes and fell back on her old standby—flirting.

But Nate was a one-woman man and he’d chosen Maddie.

Rightfully so. Maddie was the best woman, a fact that Sophie had known all along.

The following spring, Sophie flung a bit of caution to the wind and—not coyly—made a pass at Nate’s brother, Gabe. Gabe was very forthright and told her he just wasn’t into her. Little did she know that a few months later he and Liz Crenshaw would be married. Frankly, at the time, she didn’t think Gabe knew Liz at all. In fact, Sophie could almost claim that if it hadn’t been for the Mattuchi family selling Gabe part of their vineyard, Gabe and Liz might never have gotten together at all. Now, they were expecting their first baby.

Yep, I learned my lesson all right. It was time to get her act together. But in the right way.

A waitress dressed in a blue-and-white-striped uniform with a white pinafore apron delivered a cheeseburger and fries.

It had been over half a year since Sophie had ordered a meal that contained double the calories she now consumed each day. But she hadn’t ever been responsible for someone dying on her watch before, either.

Two thousand calories? Who cared? Maybe she’d have apple pie à la mode for dessert.

She was just about to squirt mustard on the burger when she heard a woman’s voice say her name.

“Sophie? Is that you?”

Sophie twisted around on the stool. Oh, no. It was Katia Stanislaus. The most gorgeous creature God ever built. Just looking at Katia’s svelte figure, dressed in a gray linen sheath dress, matching gray pumps and some exotic designer purse Sophie guessed cost three times her car payment, caused her to clench her teeth. She glanced down at her burger and fries. She could already feel the lead they’d form in her belly. She plopped the bun down and wiped her fingers on the paper napkin.

“Katia! Hi!” Sophie wondered if she sounded cheerful enough.

Katia was several years older than Sophie, but Sophie remembered when Katia was named Indian Lake High School Homecoming Queen. Track Queen. Yearbook Queen, but not Prom Queen. Katia had left town abruptly right before prom. Katia was one of those women who grew more beautiful with the years. Sophie would have liked to blame her own hard work for the fine lines around her eyes that Katia didn’t have. But Katia was a steamroller in the insurance business. She’d heard everyone from Maddie to Olivia Melton praise Katia’s work ethic.

Katia glided right over to Sophie and sat on the stool next to her. She glanced at Sophie’s lunch. “How’s the iced tea?”

Sophie smiled wanly. She’d have to add merciful to Katia’s attributes. “Good. Not as good as Olivia’s raspberry herb tea at the deli.”

Katia laughed.

Her voice sounded like tinkling chimes. No wonder Austin McCreary melted when she blew into town last fall. What man could resist her?

Now that Katia was back in Indian Lake, amazingly, she and Sophie had become reacquainted. Actually, if it hadn’t been for Katia, Sophie would probably still be apartment-hunting. Katia had been on the verge of vacating Mrs. Beabots’s apartment in order to move into Austin’s house while they planned the wedding, when Sophie overheard Maddie Barzonni and Sarah Bosworth at Cupcakes and Coffee discussing Mrs. Beabots’s soon-to-be-vacant apartment.

Several years ago, right after Sophie moved back to Indian Lake from Grand Rapids, her father had been diagnosed with cancer and Sophie had moved into the family home near the Crenshaw Vineyard on the north of town to help her mother and grandmother. Sophie’s salary had also paid off a large portion of her father’s surgical and chemotherapy bills. The family had been deeply grateful, but once her father recovered, Sophie couldn’t wait to be out on her own again.

Once she’d heard about Mrs. Beabots’s apartment, Sophie knew if she didn’t snatch the place that afternoon, she’d miss out. Indian Lake was not like any other town in the northern hemisphere. There was little to no new construction, no apartment buildings, very few condos and no place for young people to move to except their parents’ basements. Until the town experienced an uptick in new business or manufacturing, residential construction would remain at a standstill.

Sophie was struck by how such an economic situation could affect the younger generations of Indian Lake. Unless they relocated far from home, it was as if they were all stuck in a vat of molasses. Fleetingly, she wondered if this inertia, this lack of “normal” growth into adulthood, had any effect on the rising drug problem in their town.

Katia was still beaming a megawatt smile. “So, do you mind if I sit here, or were you waiting for someone? Knowing you, the next handsome hunk walking through that door doesn’t stand a chance.”

Sophie winced. Katia wasn’t being catty or petty. She probably thought she was being complimentary. The old Sophie would have agreed with her. Bring ’em on. That had been Sophie’s motto for years. But not anymore. “Uh, I don’t think so,” Sophie replied, squirting ketchup onto the side of her plate.

Katia eyed her as she signaled the waitress. “I’ll have an iced tea and a romaine salad. Dressing on the side.”

Katia propped an elbow on the counter and turned to Sophie. A shower of auburn hair fell over her shoulder, acting like a privacy curtain. “It’s pretty coincidental that I ran into you today,” Katia said. “Jack and I were talking about you only this morning.”

Sophie sucked in a breath. “Really? Nothing good, I’m sure.”

Katia put her hand on Sophie’s shoulder.

Great. It’s that bad.

Since the accident, Sophie had been so busy with her job and battling her own demons that she’d almost pushed Jack Carter from her mind. Almost.

“To be honest, Sophie, I’m worried about him. He’s taken Aleah’s death very hard. Austin and I went to her service with Jack. I’d expected him to need our help to get through the day, but he was...well, I’ve never seen him like that. He’s always been the strong one in his family, you know? None of us had even known her more than a few months. But Jack is acting like she was his sister or daughter or something. I don’t have any idea what to say to him.”

“There’s nothing you can say, Katia,” Sophie reassured her. “Grief is its own timekeeper. Some people move on in a few weeks. Others never quite get there.”

Katia examined Sophie’s face. “And what about you?”

“What about me?” Sophie parroted with more sarcasm in her voice than she’d intended. She was instantly defensive.

How could Katia really know her when Sophie was in the process of regrouping? Reinventing herself?

“I don’t need a medical degree to figure out that those dark smudges under your eyes are not from too much mascara,” Katia whispered compassionately.

“Oh, that.”

“And that’s a lot of comfort food on your plate.”

“Yeah, well.” Sophie sighed, feeling like the culprit in a sinister caper.

Katia frowned. “Mashed potatoes was my go-to food. That was when I left Indian Lake heartbroken over Austin.”

Sophie followed Katia’s eyes to the burger. “Hmm. Not very original of me.”

“No.” Katia leaned back as her salad and iced tea were served. “I’m guessing you’re as upset about Aleah as Jack is.”

Sophie needed to bob and weave. She didn’t want Katia running back to Jack with some tale of woe that he could use against her. If Sophie told Katia anything that resembled guilt or wrongdoing, Jack could sue her and the hospital. Sophie didn’t really know Katia that well. And she was in the insurance business, after all. What if Katia’s friendliness was an act? What if she’d been sent to spy on Sophie? “You’re very observant, Katia.”

“I think I can help, Sophie,” Katia said, spearing a cherry tomato with her fork. “Spend a day in the city with me?”

“What on earth for?”

“For fun. We’ll go to lunch. Window-shop and pretend to buy clothes we can’t afford. It’s the kind of thing you do to take your mind off your troubles.”

Sophie smoothed the hem of her scrubs. “I don’t think shopping will help. Besides, I haven’t done anything like that since college.”

“Then you’re overdue. Maybe we can get Mrs. Beabots to go with us.”

“Is she up to that?”

“Are you kidding?” Katia’s eyes were round as plates. “Just mention shopping to her and watch her reaction. Has she shown you her treasures yet?”

“What treasures?”

“Her closets are a treasure trove. She’s got so much vintage Chanel, it brings tears to my eyes. I’m a discount junkie. Seriously. I drive into Chicago to do most of my shopping since I know where to get all the best deals. I took Maddie and Sarah last weekend. You really need to come with me. We’ll have a blast.”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never had the time—” Sophie’s voice dropped off as she realized what truth she’d spoken. She didn’t have girlfriends because friendships took time and effort. She poured all her concern and caring into her patients. That and the fact that once Sophie turned on her charm, most of her friends’ boyfriends couldn’t resist her. Sophie wasn’t beautiful like Katia. Who was? But she had magnetism, and in the past she’d used it to her full advantage. Right now, Sophie couldn’t muster a spark of allure for anyone. “Thanks for the invitation, Katia. But I don’t know when I could break free.”

Katia nodded. “I understand. Apparently, you’ve been saving mankind. Admirable. Very admirable. But I still want to take you shopping.”

“I’m not that altruistic,” Sophie replied as the image of Jack’s face flashed across her mind.

Katia sipped her tea. “I think you are. Lots of people do.”

“But not Jack Carter.” Sophie was fishing for information. That definitely wasn’t altruistic, and it wasn’t even a good strategy, but Sophie felt the glare of Jack’s condemnation each time she did a shift in the ER.

“He’ll come around,” Katia replied with a reassuring look in her eyes.


CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_8ff7c521-5217-5ca8-81b9-dbfaa447eb00)

JACK COULDN’T BELIEVE he was nervous about his meeting with Indian Lake Hospital’s president, Emory Wills, but the butterflies in his stomach were about to drown in roiling acid. This deal had been over six months in the making. Katia had initiated the conversations with Emory and the hospital board, but as their inquiries and demands grew and their list of needs expanded, Jack felt it imperative that he take the reins in the negotiations. Katia had been present for most of the meetings so far, but a scheduling conflict had caused both Jack and Katia to do some quick shuffling. In the end, they decided that Katia would proceed with an extensive presentation to a group of local farmers that was nearly as important to Jack as the hospital’s insurance policy.

Jack shook his head. When Katia had suggested last year that he move his insurance company from Chicago to Indian Lake to save on rent and other Illinois taxes, he’d actually scoffed at her. No more. How could he have known that this small community would be vital and progressive in some ways, while its appearance was that of another era? On the whole, Jack liked Indian Lake more and more by the day.

The receptionist in the hospital’s admin wing was clearly above retirement age, and she appeared to handle a bevy of phone calls and issues with seasoned practice. As her hand flew over the phone intercom and dial pad, he noticed a large diamond wedding ring set. It wasn’t the kind of thing Jack noticed ordinarily, but for some reason, he’d begun paying more attention to just about everyone and everything since he’d moved to Indian Lake.

Especially since the accident.

This was the first time he’d been back to the hospital since that night. He’d seen his doctors, as prescribed, but in their clinic offices. It was strange, almost eerie for him to be here, thinking about business...or at least trying to thing about business. He kept seeing flashes of Aleah’s face from that day. Her eagerness during the seminar, asking intelligent questions of the speaker. Later, seeing her laugh and joke with Owen in the car. Then came the pandemonium in the ER as the doctors tried to save her. Sophie’s stricken face as she delivered the news that Aleah had died.

Jack told himself he’d never forgive Sophie for not saving Aleah, but already the grooves in that record were wearing deep. If he hadn’t pushed Aleah to go to Chicago... If only he’d signed her up for the webinars online that she could have studied on her own, in her free time...

If only he’d seen the other car coming at them. But he’d been laughing at one of Owen’s jokes. He’d glanced in the rearview mirror and in that split second, he’d missed it. He’d missed seeing death driving smack into them.

Jack’s head pounded with pain, but he knew it had nothing to do with his concussion. It was stress. He was thinking too much.

Feeling too much.

He should be grateful for the medical care he’d received.

His ankle had healed nicely, and except when he turned a corner a bit too abruptly, he didn’t notice it at all. The bruises around his eyes were a memory, but the scar over his eyebrow and those on his arms would take months, maybe years to disappear. It was just as well. They would remind him always of Aleah and what he owed her.

As his memories of the accident whipped up a fresh batch of guilt, Nate Barzonni walked up, accompanied by another man. Jack rose to greet them.

Nate grasped Jack’s hand and then squeezed his forearm. “Good to see you, Jack. You’re looking well.”

“Doing well,” Jack replied.

Nate turned to his left and said, “Jack, this is Dr. Roger Caldwell. It’s his ablation unit that you’ll be insuring for us.”

Jack smiled brightly. “Pleasure, Doctor. I’m impressed with your work and with your team.”

Dr. Caldwell beamed. “I’m very proud of my group—especially Nate. We were lucky to get him.” He smiled at Nate.

Nate gestured toward a group of chairs out of earshot of the receptionist then leaned toward Jack. “As you know, Jack, I worked with Katia to put this proposal together. I want to make sure President Wills doesn’t flinch over a single aspect. So, I’ll introduce you and give him a little background. That kind of thing.”

“I appreciate this, Nate. Katia has told me that Emory has been here since she was in high school and that he has a penchant for only doing business with Indian Lake natives. She would have been giving this presentation, but when he changed the meeting on us, she couldn’t be in two places at once.”

“I understand,” Nate said.

“You can go in now, Dr. Barzonni. Dr. Caldwell.” The receptionist looked at Jack with steady green eyes. “And guest.”

Jack bit his lower lip to keep from laughing. It was his guess the woman had been in her position for decades. She was as protective as a mother lioness with her cubs. Employees like her were rare these days.

Jack wondered if he could hire her away from the hospital.

They entered the president’s office.

Jack had expected something more grand, but then he was used to Chicago hospitals and private clinics. The room was the size of a suburban living room. Big enough for a desk, three side chairs and a small sofa against the far wall. The furnishings were dated. The pictures on the wall reminded Jack of cheap chain motels.

Jack chided himself for mentally criticizing the man’s taste—or lack of it. Jack hadn’t done much better himself. Katia had decorated the office beautifully, sure, but he had yet to put out his family photographs on his desk. They were still in a box. To say nothing of his condo. The last time he’d bought fresh flowers was at Christmas, which were unexciting cedar sprigs and holly that had lasted nearly till Super Bowl Sunday.

“Jack,” Emory Wills said, shaking Jack’s hand. “It’s good to see you again.”

They all sat in the chairs surrounding Emory’s desk. Nate spoke first.

“Emory, Roger and I wanted to join this meeting today because we both support Jack’s proposal. I’m here to vouch for Jack as a friend as well as a businessman. Though he’s new to town, I met him through my wife and her friends. I believe that Jack and his company truly have the best interests of the hospital in mind.”

Jack kept a warm smile on his face as Nate spoke. Ordinarily, Jack was not a suspicious man. He made a habit of taking people at their word. He’d liked Nate since the first time they’d met, but in light of Jack’s accident and his experience in the ER, Jack wasn’t completely sure if Nate wasn’t trying to dodge a bullet for the hospital. Was Nate’s effusiveness sincere? Did he really think Jack’s company could help Indian Lake Hospital? Or did Nate feel guilty about the way Aleah died? What was his true motivation?

Jack still had questions about Aleah’s treatment that he hadn’t had the opportunity to discuss with Nate.

The irony of all ironies was that Jack was presenting the hospital with a massive malpractice insurance policy at the very time when he believed he might have cause to file a lawsuit of his own. Still, he couldn’t bring suit if Aleah’s parents didn’t agree. At this point, they’d not returned any of his phone calls. They’d been perfunctorily polite at the funeral and burial, but that was all. It was as if they blamed Jack for the accident. Jack still hadn’t received the complete police report, though he’d talked to Detective Trent Davis, the investigating officer that night in the ER. Actually, Jack had placed a call to Detective Davis that very morning requesting a meeting. He hadn’t received an answer.

Jack didn’t like loose ends. He was the kind of person who would dig through dozens of insurance products to find the best policy for his clients. Even Barry said he took his responsibilities too seriously, but Jack didn’t care. He was a serious guy.

The Indian Lake Hospital was Jack and Katia’s top pick for clients. Katia had signed Austin McCreary and his new antique car museum six months ago, and that sale had stabilized Jack’s company in Indian Lake. Two months back, Jack had put together the package for Katia to present to the hospital, which would cover the buildings themselves. However, the high-tech equipment that Nate and Roger Caldwell used was insured by another provider. Jack had studied their current coverage and discovered that he could save the hospital thousands of dollars a year. Jack was here to discuss a comprehensive equipment insurance policy with Emory. What he had not proposed yet was a new malpractice policy, which would bring the entire hospital into Jack’s sphere of responsibility.

The hospital was an enormously important coup for Jack. With a bit of persuasion, Emory might be agreeable to recommending Jack’s company to other hospitals and medical clinics throughout the region, possibly the entire state of Indiana.

Jack and Katia had spent over a hundred hours on their presentation for a package that Emory would be negligent, at the very least, to turn down.

“As you know, Emory, my company already covers the building and campus. I’ve talked to you about the equipment policy, which is what we sent over to you a few weeks ago. So I’m here to address all your concerns.”

Emory tapped the file folder that bore the Carter and Associates logo against his desk. “I’m impressed, Jack. As I was with the policy you put together for us last winter for the campus. Your meticulousness is commendable, and I like the fact that you look out for my dollars as much as I do.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jack replied, feeling the warm glow he always did when a sale was going well. He’d get that hot rush of excitement once he heard Emory’s pen scratch his signature on the last page, but not before. Emory’s pause was longer than Jack liked. Was he rethinking the proposal already? Just how many objections was he going to raise? Jack’s heart was in his throat, pounding out anxiety-riddled thumps. Jack had been too close to the finish line on deals just like this one and walked away empty-handed. Small town. Big city. The deals were virtually the same. It all came down to a few dollars and cents in the end.

“Jack,” Emory said in a tone that put Jack’s instincts on alert. The other shoe was about to drop. No deal could be made without bumps. He just hoped it wouldn’t be a rut.

“Yes?” Jack waited. He reminded himself to make sure his smile wasn’t overly wide.

“There are a couple provisions that I’ve highlighted here.” Emory turned a group of pages toward Jack for him to peruse. “If you’ll note, you broke out Dr. Caldwell’s lab and surgical unit from the rest of the hospital. Why is that?”

Jack nodded. He had this one. “The ablation unit is brand-new and most of the insurance companies were asking for a very high premium. I was looking for something more...” Jack drew out his pause. “Affordable for you.”

“Excellent,” Emory replied. “Then the second point is the timing of the first premium. We can’t do this.”

Jack gulped but hoped no one noticed. “Sir?”

“The board is prepared to switch over from our current carrier at the end of this year but not before. I realize that if we went with you right now, we’d save over twenty grand. However, there were some, er, allegiances from the board—that is to say, one of our members—”

“Is a very old friend of your present insurance agent. I know that, sir,” Jack finished for him, hopefully alleviating any embarrassment on Emory’s part.

Nate and Roger exhaled with relief. Just as he’d thought. They’d known about this complication. It was a good thing Jack believed in background research. He was prepared for this delay. He didn’t like it, but he would have to accept it if he wanted the business.

Jack continued, “I can prepare the paperwork to be executed for a December thirty-first date. How would that be?”

Emory’s bushy gray eyebrows shot up as he grinned widely. “That would be just fine, Jack.”

Jack picked up his leather briefcase and put it on his lap. “Now that we’re agreed on this first order of business, I wonder if I might make another proposal to you, Emory.”

Emory glanced at Nate and Roger, then back at Jack. “Do they need to leave?”

“Not at all.” Jack withdrew a thick, three-ring binder with his company logo. “Though I don’t have access to your current policy, I took the liberty of preparing a proposal for you because I believe that no matter what you are paying now, I can save the hospital more money.”

Jack handed the binder to Emory, who flipped open the cover and gasped. “This is malpractice insurance.”

“That’s correct. It’s my guess that your current agent also provides this service for you. All I ask is that you review my product and see for yourself if I can’t provide a larger umbrella at a lower cost.”

Emory had already been rifling through the pages and checking out the tabs as Jack spoke. He pinned Jack with his eyes. “I will look at it, but that’s all I can promise.”

“I totally understand, and I’m grateful for the opportunity.”

Emory rose from his chair, signaling the end of the meeting. He held out his hand. “I’ll be in touch, Jack.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jack replied before leaving the room with the two doctors.

* * *

SOPHIE STOOD IN the middle of the reception area dressed in her street clothes. It was the first time Jack had seen her since the accident. Her hair had been pulled back that night, but now it just skimmed her shoulders in dark, luminous waves and she’d pinned a piece of it over her right ear with a massive coral and rhinestone barrette. There were coral hoops in her ears that matched her cotton sundress. On her feet were beige espadrilles. She was tanned and her skin glowed.

Jack couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Sophie hadn’t noticed him at all. She went straight to Nate.

“Dr. Barzonni,” she said, handing him a group of faxed papers. “The office just got a call from the reservation clinic. There’s been an emergency. Here’s the patient’s information for you to review. They said you’ve treated him before.”

Nate peeled back the top sheet. “Tom Running Bear.” He started speed walking toward the elevators with Sophie right at his side.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Call the clinic. Tell them I’m on my way. I’ll call my wife and tell her where I am. Could you call my mother and tell her I won’t be coming out to the farm for dinner?”

“Absolutely. What else?”

“My cell?” He patted his pockets.

Sophie handed him an iPhone. “You left it on your desk. I also filled up your Hummer.”

“How did you do that?”

“You left your car keys on your desk, too.” She sank her hand into her straw purse and flipped the keys to him. “Good luck.”

The elevator doors opened and Nate jumped in.

Roger Caldwell said his goodbye to Jack, then he excused himself and took the stairs, telling Jack it was part of his cardio routine.

Sophie turned and spied Jack for the first time. “You, er, look good. I mean, well.”

He walked toward her.

“No problem with the ankle, I see.” She smiled slightly, but it slid off her face as her eyes met his.

Jack saw trepidation and question in her face. Rightly so. He still wanted answers, but he knew her explanation wouldn’t have changed from what she’d delivered to him before.

“Ankle is good.” He tapped his head. “So is the noggin’. No more checkups for a couple months, I’m told.”

“Good. So, you’re fine. Well, I gotta go,” she said but didn’t move. Her eyes tracked over to the president’s door.

Jack thought she’d stopped breathing. Her back went rigid and her eyes were wide. “Why are you here, Jack?”

“Business,” he replied icily. “My business.”

Not a muscle on Sophie’s body flinched. It was as if she’d turned to stone. She didn’t blink or breathe. “Business with the president?”

“Yes, and now we’re finished for the day,” he said, moving around her and pressing the elevator button.

He let his eyes slide to Sophie’s sleek, tanned legs. When she pirouetted to face him, her calves flexed just like a ballerina. He wondered if she had taken ballet when she was a little girl. He remembered going to his sister’s recitals and making fun of her pink tutu and feather headdresses. He didn’t think he’d make fun of Sophie.

“Jack,” Sophie said his name just as the elevator arrived and the doors whooshed open.

He got in and shook his head. “Don’t.”

The door closed, leaving a stunned and enticingly beautiful Sophie on the other side.

Jack stared at the ceiling. Though it was the first time he’d been with Sophie since Aleah’s death, he hadn’t thought of his assistant at all.


CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_c6feed0e-ad82-583d-86c3-72aaa2457aec)

SEEING JACK SHOT Sophie back to the night of Aleah’s death in the ER. Since then, she’d learned from the police report that the driver’s name was Greg Fulton. He was from Chicago. Never married, though he was from a large family of five brothers. He’d lost his job in the steel mills as an engineer a year and a half ago and had fallen headlong into the drug scene.

Knowing only those few facts about Greg amped up Sophie’s empathy.

Sophie believed the hospital should do more to help addicts like Greg. Sophie booked a meeting with Tanya Stewart, the Indian Lake Hospital administrator who headed up four different hospital-related community health projects. Each project had a three-letter acronym and each was impossible to remember without looking at her notes, which exemplified the ineffectiveness of all the hospital’s outreach programs.

“Thanks for seeing me,” Sophie said, standing as Tanya entered the windowless office in a rush of air, her long paisley-print silk jacket trailing behind her. Tanya plopped into her chair, carrot-red hair bouncing around her face like coils.

“What can I do for you, Nurse Ma...”

“Mattuchi. Sophie Mattuchi.”

Tanya shuffled papers and peered at phone memos. She dug her cell phone out of her jacket pocket and glanced at it, acting as if Sophie were an intrusion in her extraordinarily busy day.

“Right.” She checked her messages again. Then rolled her eyes. “When I was in Chicago I had two assistants and they had secretaries.” She shook her head. “There aren’t enough hours in the day—or enough of me.” She flipped her hand in the air, turning her fingers around like she was whipping cream. “So what is it?”

Clearly, the woman was overwhelmed. Sophie dove in. “I’m here to talk about the hospital’s drug addiction program.”

“I feel a criticism coming on here,” Tanya replied with a bit of a nervous squeak to her voice.

“Well, given the problems Indian Lake is having with drugs and now gangs moving in, I feel there is more we can do.”

“More? The hospital offers seven-day drying-out periods. That’s almost double the four days the law gives addicts when they’re arrested.”

“The cops think an addict can go straight after four days? Who are they kidding?”

“That’s the law. We do better.”

Sophie could tell she was going to need to take a different tack. “That might be true, but in the ER we see an overdose nearly every weekend. The numbers are rising and our programs don’t touch the surface. Is there any way that we can hire suitable, licensed professionals to help us?”

Tanya shook her head vigorously. “Our budget is set for the year. We’re tightening our belts more every day.”

“But there’s a need...” Sophie placed her hands on the edge of Tanya’s desk, imploring. Sophie had wanted to be convincing and she was losing the battle before she’d drawn a single sword.

Sophie had researched as much as she could about the disease. She remembered a colleague from Butterworth Hospital in Grand Rapids, Phillip Jessup, who now worked at Renewal Rehabilitation Center in Chicago and called him up. Not only had they spent several hours discussing the Indian Lake Hospital’s approach to drug addiction, but Phillip had also sent her research papers, surveys and the materials they used in his program at Renewal. Educating the parents, family, close friends and concerned associates of an addict was key to their recovery. Renewal conducted a “family week” several times a year for the families of the addiction patients. The interaction between counselors, doctors and patients’ families was crucial.

“My hands are tied,” Tanya said.

“But I want to do something,” Sophie said, hating the whine she heard in her voice.

“I think you should know, Sophie, that this hospital has a very strict policy that its staff members participate in only those programs that the hospital supports.”

“What if the hospital conducts a seminar for the families of addicts?” she tried. “I could put it together. On my free time.”

“No,” Tanya rebutted before Sophie could go on. “In the end, I would have to staff up, find funds. Just thinking of the kind of organization it would take gives me a headache. And the hours of work—oy!”

The woman was shutting her down. Sophie pressed harder. “But the family programs are working at other facilities,” Sophie countered.





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