A Stallion's Touch (7 page)

Tarah sat upright, pulling her knees to her chest as she wrapped her arms tightly around her legs. She shook her head as she reflected on what Nicholas had said, hating to admit that the man had actually been right.

* * *

Those last days leading up to the final play-offs left Nicholas little time to think about anything but the game, yet thoughts of Tarah invaded every hour of his day. Between practice and the required pregame events he was contractually obligated to participate in, the little downtime he had revolved around thoughts of her.

At the honors award banquet, he found himself wishing he'd flown her in to be his date on the red carpet. As he stood alone, paparazzi snapping picture after picture, he couldn't help but imagine her in black satin beneath a perfect formfitting red gown. Despite her best efforts to hide her assets, Tarah had a phenomenal figure, her dips and curves befitting any Parisian catwalk. He knew beyond any doubt that she would have been stunning on his arm and the talk of every news outlet across the nation.

Despite their best efforts, he had been able to grab only a quick few minutes with her on her cell phone, and he was itching to fire up his computer to see her in real time. Skype had become his new favorite pastime, and he was missing those moments they shared. Warm breath rushed past his lips as he slammed his locker door closed and headed out to the football field.

It was Media Day, and close to three thousand media members, armed with the requisite credentials, had descended upon both teams. It was a frenzy of photo opportunities and interviews. Each player was required to be available for at least an hour. They'd been calling his name for more than ten minutes, and he knew that it was only a matter of time before one or all of the coaches and a host of other officiates came looking for him. But as he stepped through the doors, the cameras beginning to flash over and over again, his head just wasn't in the moment.

* * *

Surgery had taken longer than anticipated, and everyone was waiting with bated breath. The next forty-eight hours would be crucial to the final outcome of the Barton twins. The team of surgeons that had been responsible for their care were all hopeful, and the prognosis for their recovery was better than good.

Tarah stared down at the two angels. They were both resting comfortably in separate cribs for the first time in their young lives. Their mother, Jessica Barton, sat between them, her eyes skipping back and forth, afraid that she might miss one or the other take a breath.

“Their stats are good,” Tarah said softly, her voice just above a whisper. “Both boys are doing really well, Mrs. Barton.”

“Please, call me Jessica,” the young woman said as she brushed a tear from her cheek. “What all of you did for my boys... I can't begin to thank you.”

Tarah gave the woman a warm smile. “Is your husband still here, Jessica?”

She shook her head. “He ran home to get a quick shower. He should be back any minute.”

“That's good. You should give yourself a break once he gets back. You need some rest, too.”

She shook her head vehemently. “I'm not leaving them. I can't. I'd never be able to live with myself if something happened to either one of my babies and I wasn't here.”

Tarah nodded. “I understand,” she said. And she did, remembering how her mother had been when she or any of her siblings had fallen ill. But the minor mishaps and sicknesses they might have had didn't begin to compare to what little Oscar and Henry had endured. She imagined that when the day came that she had children of her own, she would be just as unyielding. “If you need anything, let the nurses know,” she concluded. She brushed a gentle hand across the woman's shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze.

The two women exchanged a look before Tarah turned and exited the room. She returned the patient charts to the nurses' station after jotting down her notes and updating their stats for whoever might come behind her. The nurse on duty promised to find her if there was any change with either baby.

Tarah moved slowly down the length of corridor toward the physicians' on-call room. She was physically exhausted, her body beginning to cry for just a few minutes of sleep. The past two days had been everything she could ever have wished for, and she had learned quickly about the stuff she was made of. She imagined that she would have made Ma and Pa Boudreaux extremely proud. But before she could think about laying her head down to rest, she wanted to call Nicholas to wish him good luck before his big day. He was hours away from his first championship game, and she wanted him to know she was praying for his success and the elusive ring he coveted.

As she rounded the corner toward the hospital elevators, she almost ran headfirst into Dr. Harper. He was freshly shaven and had changed into a clean pair of scrubs. A few hours of sleep had done him good, and he looked well-rested. His eyes widened as he grabbed her shoulders, preventing what could have been a painful encounter for them both.

“Excuse me!” Tarah exclaimed, her own gaze filling with contrition. “I wasn't paying attention. I am so sorry!”

Dr. Harper gave her a slight smile, still holding tightly to her. “No harm done, Dr. Boudreaux. Are you okay?”

She nodded as she took a step back, extricating herself from his grasp. “I am. Tired. I was just going down to the doctors' lounge to close my eyes for a minute.”

He nodded. “I was headed to the NICU to check in on the twins. How are they doing?”

“They seem to be doing really well. Both are resting comfortably, and they look great. Good color, normal temperatures and all their stats are at normal or acceptable levels.”

“That's good to hear.”

An awkward silence billowed between them. Tarah tossed a look over her shoulder and then took a deep breath. Dr. Harper was eyeing her intently.

“You should be very proud of yourself, Tarah. You're an outstanding surgeon. We were all impressed with your work today.”

Tarah gave him a slight smile. “Thank you. I appreciate that, sir.”

“We should make plans to celebrate. Maybe do dinner again later this week?”

“Will all the doctors be participating?”

He paused, his gaze narrowing ever so slightly. “Would spending time alone with me be such a horrible thing?”

Tarah shook her head slowly. “That's not at all what I meant, sir. I just...”

He interrupted her. “If you aren't interested in my attention, you should just say so, Tarah.”

Tarah exhaled, releasing the breath she'd been holding, trying to resist the urge to run, or worse, throw a punch in the man's direction. She felt cornered, and she didn't like it. Taking another deep breath, she chose her words carefully. “Dr. Harper, I truly appreciate everything you've done for me. You've been an outstanding mentor. And although I'm flattered by your attention, I am in a relationship. If I gave you the wrong impression, I apologize. That was never my intention. But I value your friendship, and I really hope that we can keep things from becoming awkward between us.”

The man suddenly looked like he'd lost his very best friend. “I didn't know you were involved with anyone.”

She nodded. “It's long-distance at the moment, but we're making it work. Work keeps him traveling, but he'll be here in a few weeks. I look forward to introducing you to each other.”

Dr. Harper nodded. “I should be going. I need to check on my patients. If I'm around when you wake up, maybe we can grab a cup of coffee. In the cafeteria,” he concluded.

Tarah gave him a slight smile. “Good night, sir,” she said, and then he turned, stomping off toward the intensive care nursery.

When he was out of sight, she sucked in two quick breaths of air and blew them out gradually. She understood enough about men to know that her problem with Dr. Harper was far from over, but she was too tired to figure out what she needed to do to make things right again. She needed sleep and she needed to talk to Nicholas. Anything else would have to wait.

Minutes later, as she stepped off the elevator, she was dialing his number, her fingers crossed that she wouldn't wake him from a sound sleep. Nicholas answered on the second ring.

“Hey there!”

“Hey, yourself. How was your day?”

He nodded into the receiver. “Press, practice, more press. I need to get some sleep, but I'm too amped. How about you? How did the surgery go?”

“The twins are doing really well. I'd venture to say surgery was a complete success. The next few days will give us a better idea of what their quality of life will be like, but I'm very hopeful. They have great parents and a wonderful family pulling for them.”

“That's my girl! I knew it would go well.”

“I'm glad you did. I was scared to death, Nicholas. Their lives were in our hands, and if I or any of the other surgeons had made one mistake...well...”

“But you did it. And you'll keep doing it. Surgery is what you love, Tarah, so you don't have any option but to be the very best at it.”

“I do love it!”

“You are something special, Tarah Boudreaux. All of your patients are blessed to have you.”

Tarah felt her face pull into a wide smile. “Thank you, Nicholas. I appreciate that.” A yawn suddenly escaped past her lips. “We both really need to get some sleep. I'm done, but you still have work to do tomorrow, and I expect a win,” she said. “I just really wanted to hear your voice.”

“I'm glad you called,” Nicholas said, his voice dropping an octave.

“Me, too,” she whispered back. “Can I call you in the morning? What time are you headed to the stadium?”

“It won't be that early. Call or I'll try to call you before I leave.”

“That'll work,” Tarah said. “Sweet dreams, my friend.”

Nicholas could feel a wave of warmth flood his body. “You, too, Tarah!” he responded, holding back the thought that his dreams would be very sweet because he'd be dreaming about her.

She called his name.

“Yes?”

“Tonight I told Dr. Harper I was in a long-distance relationship and that I had a boyfriend who I was exclusive with.”

Nicholas grinned. “Okay.”

She laughed, the sweet sound seeping through the phone line. “In case it ever comes up, I thought you should know.”

“Will it come up?”

“When you come to Phoenix, should the two of you meet, he might think I was talking about you.”

Nicholas laughed heartily. “So, you weren't talking about me?”

She laughed again. “In case it comes up,” she said before she hung up the telephone.

Nicholas tossed his cell phone onto the nightstand beside the king-size bed. He lifted his long legs atop the plush mattress, settling into the pillows propped behind his back. He breathed in and out slowly, allowing his body to relax into the memory of the exchange he and Tarah had just shared. She made him laugh, and laughing lifted his spirits in ways he hadn't ever imagined. He liked her. He liked her a lot, and there had been no woman before her that he had ever felt that way about. He liked what he was feeling about Tarah, and what they shared out of the watchful eye of their family and friends had taken on a life of its own.

He was excited at the prospect of spending time with her and getting to know even more about her, and himself. His growing relationship with Tarah, the mutual moments of sharing himself, of letting his guard down and not being afraid of the vulnerability, had him learning much about the man he was. And even more about the man he hoped to become.

Chapter 6

N
icholas and Tarah were able to Skype for over an hour before Nicholas had to pack up his gym bag and head to the stadium. It was four hours before the kickoff, and his nerves had already begun to curdle his stomach with anxiety. Tarah had teased him, and then she'd bowed her head and whispered a prayer of gratitude and thanksgiving. Before saying goodbye, she'd wished him the best of luck and had blown him a virtual kiss.

As he passed through the doors of the arena and headed into the locker room, he was feeling almost giddy with excitement and joy. A calm had enveloped him ever since the moment he'd heard her voice and seen her sweet smile.

Inside the locker room, the first thing he did was find his assigned locker. His uniform and game day jersey hung inside. His name printed on the back of that customized jersey was telling. This was real. He was playing in the football league's biggest championship game. There was a moment when he couldn't begin to articulate what it all meant to him. As he tossed a glance around the room at his teammates, he realized they were all feeling some kind of way about their big day in football history. The energy in the room was subdued and focused.

Each of the players was indulging in his own personal game day ritual. There wasn't much else Nicholas felt a need to do, anxious only to get out on the field and play. But he moved to the training room area, the hub of activity. The list of last-minute pregame treatments being administered was lengthy, from massages to acupuncture. Some players were sitting for their customized tape jobs, white athletic tape being wrapped around ankles, knees and wrists. Stretching and loosening up was an ongoing process, and players were engaged in a host of activities around the room to make that happen.

Nicholas headed into the showers, standing under the spray of hot water until he felt cleansed and refreshed. When he was done and his favorite trainer had taped both his ankles tightly, he donned his game pants and shoes, then headed out to the field to survey the terrain.

Bare-chested, he took a slow lap around the track, making cuts into the turf to test the traction and ensure the spikes on his cleats were right for the surface. When he was satisfied, he moved back inside. He found his twin waiting for him, his brother more nervous than he was.

“Hey!” Nathaniel chimed. “How are you feeling?”

Nicholas nodded as the two clasped hands and bumped shoulders in a one-armed embrace. “I'm good.”

“I'm not. My stomach is doing flips.”

He laughed. “What are you anxious about? I'm the one who has to play!”

“That's why I'm nervous. I want this for you so badly!”

Nicholas smiled. “Did everyone make it?” he asked.

“The Stallions and the Boudreaux are all here. It's like a family reunion. I wish you'd been able to come meet us at the hotel last night. We all had a great time.”

Nicholas nodded. “Me, too, but you know how I do. I just needed some alone time to get my head together. Plus, I did have that curfew!”

“It's all good. Everyone will be right here when the game is over, and we all have tickets to the celebration party tonight.” Pride gleamed from Nathaniel's gaze.

“You ready to help me stretch?” Nicholas asked. He twisted his body at the waist, left and then right, before leaning his torso back and then forward.

Nathaniel nodded. “Whenever you are.”

A perk of being the starting quarterback was the ability to handpick the support staff that helped him prep for the big games. His twin was an orthopedic specialist, and Nathaniel was all the help he had ever required or requested. Having his brother by his side always calmed him.

Moving into a quiet corner, Nicholas relaxed into his brother's touch as Nathaniel pushed and prodded each of his limbs, manually flexing and relaxing the tightness out of his muscles. As each sinewy tissue warmed from the manipulation, Nicholas found himself lost in thought.

This was his big moment. He tried to visualize himself making a big play, claiming the victory in his head. For a moment he imagined Tarah trying on his game ring dressed in nothing but his team jersey, her bare legs peeking from beneath the hem. The imagery made him smile as he thought about the moment he could make his fantasy come true.

By the time they were all ready to head out onto the field, dropping first onto one knee and bowing their heads for the team prayer, Nicholas could barely contain himself. Everything inside him promised a game that would go down in history, and he was ready for it. He had sacrificed a lifetime for this one moment. And he hoped that Tarah would at least be able to see the highlights on the television wherever she happened to be.

* * *

At halftime Los Angeles was behind, the score sixteen to thirteen. The New England fans were going wild. With less than three minutes left before halftime, Nicholas threw a long pass that connected beautifully in the end zone.

Tarah immediately called Katrina, shouting excitedly into the receiver. “Go, Mauraders!”

“Where are you?” Katrina questioned after requesting silence from their family sharing the VIP box so she could hear her sister.

“Headed to the hospital,” Tarah said. “And I'm late, but I couldn't leave the house until halftime! Did you all see that throw?”

Katrina laughed. “We all saw it. Nicholas is playing really well.”

“Nicholas is having a
great
game!”

Katrina paused for a split second before responding. “I thought you didn't like football?”

“I don't, but I like Nicholas, and he loves the game.”

“Something you want to tell us?”

“Who's us?”

“Your family. His family.”

Tarah laughed. “No. Why do think there would be something I need to tell?”

Katrina paused. “I hear it in your voice, baby sister,” she then said matter-of-factly.

“Sounds like you're hearing things. Must be all that background noise.”

“Uh-huh!”

Tarah giggled again. “I'll call back after the game. Tell everyone I miss them and give them a hug for me, please.”

Katrina laughed with her sister. “Do you want me to hug Nicholas for you? Maybe give him a kiss, too?”

“Goodbye, Katrina!” Tarah screamed into the receiver before disconnecting the call.

* * *

As she moved out of the faculty lounge and checked in on the Barton babies, Tarah knew she would miss the halftime show, but it couldn't be helped. The twins were sleeping peacefully, and as she reviewed their charts, she was pleased to see the few problems that had reared up since she last saw them were all minor. Oscar had run a low fever, and Henry's heart rate had been slightly irregular for a moment. But right now, everything was normal. Their mom and dad were smiling, both finally relaxing into all the good news and each accomplishment their infants were achieving.

After reiterating their care instructions to the nurse on duty, Tarah headed back down to the faculty lounge and the makeshift football party the nurses had coordinated for all the staff. Inside, there was a small crowd gathered around the television set. They were already at the end of the third quarter and the score was tied. Fans from both sides were hanging on the edges of their seats. Tarah could only begin to imagine what was going on in the minds of the other families who were actually there. She couldn't at all fathom what Nicholas had to be thinking out on the field.

She grabbed a paper plate and filled it with chips and spinach dip, then took a seat up front. As she sat down she noticed Dr. Harper for the first time, the surgeon seated on the other end of the front row. She gave him a slight wave of her hand and a bright smile. He gave her a quick nod, then turned his attention back to the conversation he was having with one of the orthopedic specialists about football and traumatic brain injury. They were the only two interested in the topic as everyone else was absorbed in the live game on the TV.

The cameras were focused on the players, and when a shot of Nicholas flashed across the screen, Tarah's smile spread full and wide. She couldn't have been prouder of Nicholas's big moment, and knowing just how much the game meant to him brought her immense joy.

The back-and-forth between the two teams was relentless. From all the comments in the room, it didn't take a brain surgeon to pick up on the fact that most were rooting for New England. None of them expected to see Los Angeles win. Tarah came to her feet in the fourth quarter. It was third down with five yards to go. The New England line had closed in on Nicholas, and he stumbled into the fray. When he suddenly rolled up and away, reaching back to fire a Hail Mary into his opponents' territory, she held her breath, not releasing it until the team's wide receiver jumped and landed, managing to grab the ball before stepping out of bounds. Everyone in the stadium roared and she jumped excitedly, cheering as if she were there. Los Angeles was within a few short feet of the end zone and their championship win.

The excitement was palpable. The play came with less than three minutes remaining in the game. Everyone was expecting Nicholas to throw another pass, but instead he sprinted left, then shifted with a hard right. Just as he dove toward the end zone he was hit hard from both sides, the impact slamming him over the line and down to the ground. The ball never left his hands. In the cheers and jubilation over the touchdown, seconds passed before anyone realized their star quarterback wasn't moving.

* * *

“What are they saying?” Tarah asked, still staring at the television screen. On the other end they had her on speakerphone.

“We don't know anything yet,” Maitlyn answered. “Nathaniel, John and Noah ran down to find out what was going on.”

Tarah nodded into the telephone. “Is Mason there?” she asked.

“I'm right here. Are you okay?” he questioned.

“I'm fine,” Tarah said. “Tell Nathaniel the replay looks like Nicholas took the brunt of the hit in his lower spine and right hip. If he needs surgery, Dr. Harper is the best neurosurgeon in the nation. He said he can come there if necessary, but we have the best surgical team and facility here. Please, get Nicholas here to Phoenix Hope. Please! No matter what it takes!
Please!
”

For the first time ever, the family heard real panic in Tarah's plea. It was clear that she was holding back tears, the tremor in her tone edged with worry.

“I'll take care of it,” Mason said softly. “I'll contact you as soon as we know something.”

Katherine called her daughter's name from across the room. “Tarah, baby?”

“Yes, ma'am?”

“Do you have someone there with you? Senior and I don't want you to be by yourself right now.”

“I'm at the hospital. I'm working. I'll be fine. I'll be better once I know Nicholas is going to be okay.” Tarah stole another glance at the television screen, watching as paramedics wrapped a brace around Nicholas's neck. She paused for a moment as they eased a backboard beneath his body, then she resumed the conversation. “I'll call if I have any problems, Mom. Please, don't worry about me.”

“We need to pray, Tarah. We need to pray for Nicholas, and we need to pray for all of our family.”

Tarah nodded in agreement. She bowed her head, and as her mother lifted them all in prayer, a tear spilled from her eye.

Dr. Harper and Dana Harding were standing by Tarah's side when she disconnected the call. The doctor gave her a warm smile, and Dana reached out to squeeze her hand.

“I'm sure your friend will be fine,” Dana said. “It just looks worse than it really is.”

Tarah gave her a slight smile but she knew better. “I appreciate that. And I appreciate you offering to fly there to treat him,” she said, shifting her gaze toward Dr. Harper.

He gestured with a slight tilt of his head. “I'm sure they're going to take him to Mercy Hospital. I know one of the surgeons on their team. I'll call and see if I can find out anything,” he said as he readied himself to leave.

“Thank you,” Tarah said, her voice a loud whisper.

He brushed a large palm across her back. The touch was more intimate than friendly, and Tarah felt herself stiffen.

His hand moved from her back, snaking around her waist, and then he pressed his fingers along the side of her face, staring intently into her eyes. Tarah's gaze narrowed substantially, her jaw locked tight, her lips pulled into a deep frown. She drew her arms up and around her torso, hugging herself protectively.

“I'm here for you, Tarah. We all are,” Dr. Harper concluded as he shot the nurse a look.

Dana smiled, her gaze skating back and forth between the two. She nodded her head in affirmation as her eyes locked with Tarah's. Her wide-eyed stare spoke volumes, the two women carrying on a silent conversation the doctor wasn't privy to.

* * *

Nicholas lay supine, his body strapped to a backboard and medical stretcher. His family was talking, but above everyone's voice he heard his brother's saying something he couldn't quite comprehend. His head throbbed and it felt better to keep his eyes closed, the bright lights shining on him not at all easy to take.

His entire body hurt, but he couldn't begin to pinpoint where the pain started or where it stopped. Just that pain was there, in full regalia, like a high school band playing that one song with no intention of ever ending.

His decision to run that last offensive play instead of throwing it had seemed brilliant at the time. It hadn't been expected and it had won them the game. At least, that's how he remembered it. And then he remembered the pain that felt like it was coming with the proficiency of a drum line. Cymbals being slapped and horns blowing.

He tried to focus on the championship ring that would come engraved with his name and the new Cadillac that he'd earned as the game's MVP. Then he remembered that he'd lost out on his commercial opportunity, the cameras missing him telling the crowd that he was going to Disney. The advertising slogan, which was always broadcasted following championship games while a star player celebrated the team's victory, had become tradition.