Critical Care (19 page)

"Almost. About half an hour ago. Said she was woozy because
she'd skipped lunch. So I had the cafeteria bring her a sandwich,
along with a huge slab of banana cream pie." Erin rested her elbows
on the desk. "I stood over her while she ate it." She glanced around.
"How're you doing over here after being shanghaied by Logan?"

Claire's stomach did a ridiculous dip at the mention of his
name. Which gave way to continuing irritation at his insensitive
arrogance. "Put down the phone and pamphlets.... You're handling
urgent care." She'd been awake for hours last night, wrestling with anger at him for sending her here. And fear that he'd find out what
a mistake he'd made.

Erin watched Claire's face for a moment. "I told him I wasn't
sure you'd be willing to do it. I thought you might be uncomfortable doing bedside care."

It was a statement, but Claire could hear the question beneath
it, and her throat tightened. Erin knew. Of course she did. She'd
been there during Jamie's crisis; she must have noticed Claire's
apprehension.

"How long has it been since you worked ER?" Erin asked
gently.

Claire's pulse quickened. "Two years." She cleared her throat.
"I'd been working on my bachelor's degree in education. And did
some part-time work with the Loaves and Fishes clinic in Sacramento. But now I've been getting good experience in the education
department, and I've interviewed for the clinical educator position.
That's my plan. It's not that I'm unwilling to help you, but ..."
Claire's words faltered. There was no way to explain without dredging up the past. I can't do that again.

"No problem. I understand. I really do." Erin smiled warmly.
"And I appreciate your being here. But if you need help-need
anything-just holler for me, okay?" She reached over and touched
Claire's arm. "Besides, I loved having you show up for Faith QD."

Claire smiled, remembering the sense of comfort and the infusion of much-needed confidence she'd felt when gathering with
the clinic team in the chapel. "I loved it too. I've missed that kind
of fellowship," she said, surprised by her revelation. It's true. I
miss it.

"Good, then," Erin said, patting Claire's arm. "I only wish Dr.
McSnarly could hear you say that. He thinks I'm bribing people with donuts to get them there. The day I lure Logan into that chapel is the day this humble mission goes on the map. Trust me, I've
tried." She shook her head. "He said Beckah had wanted them to
start going to church together, but ..."

"Beckah?" Claire adjusted her stethoscope and feigned casual
interest despite the fact that her stomach had plummeted. A girlfriend?

"His ex-wife," Erin answered. "I never met her, but I can sure
understand what she was trying to do. I see so many solid couples at
my church that I have to believe there's a real connection between
faith and successful relationships. Maybe it would have made a
difference for Logan's marriage."

Except that he doesn't believe in prayer. Since his mother left. And
he doesn't trust counseling, either.

Claire blinked, realizing that knowing those things-such
intimate things-meant that she already knew Logan Caldwell
far better than Erin or likely any of the Sierra Mercy staff. He'd
shared those personal insights with her, taken that risk. She knew
how vulnerable it felt to do that. Had Logan regretted talking with
her? And kissing her? Is that why he hasn't called? Claire forced the
thoughts aside.

"But then-" Erin pulled at a long strand of her hair and
sighed-"what do I really know about relationships?"

"You?" Claire tossed her a teasing smile. "So I imagined those
roses in the ER?"

Erin groaned. "You can't know how much I wish Brad hadn't
done that. I look at them and it's like a neon sign blinking, 'fool,
fool, fool' in flaming red a dozen times over."

Wow. Claire raised her brows, clueless of how to respond. "You
mean ..."

"I only mean those roses came with an apology typed on a
florist card by some anonymous person he dictated to over the
phone. Long-distance from across the state line no doubt. I met
Brad at church. But lately his idea of Sunday morning gatherings is
the all-you-can-eat brunch and playing slots at Harrah's. Although
I guess I have that to thank for his donation to Jamie's fund-hope
it's not all in quarters." Erin frowned and doubled her hand into a
fist. "I should install a punching bag in the nurses' lounge; I always
feel better after a couple of good jabs." She lowered her hand and
smiled. "Sorry. I didn't mean to dump all this on you."

"No, you're not. I guess I assumed when I saw those flowers..."
Claire spread her hands and shrugged.

"Maybe I'm jaded. I won't bore you with the details, but let's
just say that my father isn't going to win any awards for sincerity
and honesty. Trust doesn't come easy for me. But just once, I'd like
to meet a man who gets it, you know? Gets that it's not about the
big show, that simple is fine-no, that simple is way better." Erin
tapped her finger against her scrub top, in the vicinity of her heart.
"A guy who understands that it's what's right in here that counts."
She pressed her hands together and threw her head back, gazing
toward the clinic ceiling. "Show me that guy!" Then she chuckled
and turned back to Claire, her eyes playful and warm. "Amen?"

Claire laughed. "Amen," she agreed, feeling a rush of affection for the passionate and gutsy redhead. Erin deserved all that
and more.

The sun was setting, tinting the sky purple and orange and pink,
by the time Claire set out across the parking lot to where she'd
parked Kevin's SUV. She took a deep breath of cool air and exhaled
slowly, feeling her shoulders relax for the first time in hours. God must have been listening to her prayers at Faith QD; it felt so good
to be there for Jada Williams.

In truth, the worst case she'd faced today was helping Glenda
pluck a blue LEGO from the nostril of a two-year-old bucking
harder than a rodeo bronc. Claire shook her head, remembering
how the mother had insisted the little girl say thank you for their
help. Yeah, right. The wary and sniffling child had compromised
by waving bye-bye furiously in a blatant attempt to get away as
fast as possible.

Claire couldn't help but empathize. She felt the same way. I'm
outta here. And since Merlene had convinced an on-call nurse to
pick up some shifts starting next week, Claire wouldn't be needed
in urgent care for more than a couple of days in the interim.
Tomorrow was her day off. She'd get up early, take a long run,
maybe go to the pet store and find a consolation toy for Smokey
after his raccoon scare. Claire stopped as she arrived at the SUV.
What on earth?

She walked around to the front and lifted a cellophane-wrapped
bouquet from the hood. Her breath caught. Daffodils? Before she
could move, she heard Logan's voice.

"Hi, Educator."

She turned and saw him smile, the fading sunlight casting rosy
warmth to his features much the same way the fire embers had that
night on her deck.

Logan looked at the bouquet and then at her face, shrugging.
"I was at the Jeep store. It's next door to this flower shop. And
when I saw those, they made me think of you, so . . ." His brows
scrunched. "That's not true."

He took a step closer, and once more Claire was aware of his
height, the effect he had on her breathing, and ...

Logan sighed. His expression seemed vulnerable, his eyes sincere. "The truth is I went looking for those daffodils because I've
been thinking about you all day. I have another day off tomorrow,
and I want to spend it with you. Would that be okay?"

Claire looked down at the blooms tied with a ribbon and
wrapped in paper and thought of Erin's words, the way she'd
tapped her fingers over her heart. Simple, heartfelt.

"Yes." She smiled. "I think that would be very okay."

Oh, man. Logan bit his lip, willing himself not to laugh as the rainbow trout escaped Claire's fingers for a third time. Spotted and silvery pink, it arched and flopped in tall grass along the narrow stretch
of the Truckee River. He was too smart to risk laughing, but it took
everything he had not to, watching that determined look on her
face and her nose wrinkling as she planned her next move. Her catlike stealth turned into Three Stooges clumsiness by the borrowed
rubber wading boots as she grabbed, missed, and grabbed again.

"Need some help ... there?" Logan asked, his voice rising an
octave, then choking on the last word despite his efforts.

"Nope, I'm fine." Claire turned, her eyes narrowing below the
brim of her ball cap. "Hey, you're not laughing at me, are you?"

"Me? Do I look that crazy?" Logan leaned back on his elbows
on the bank, blinking into the sun and watching as Claire finally
got a grip on the slippery fish. He smiled as she released the teninch trout into the clear and ice-cold water. "I wouldn't risk laughing at a woman who's beaten me at everything all day. I'm just
hoping you don't want to arm wrestle. Frankly my masculinity
couldn't take it."

She whirled around, dark ponytail whipping across her shoulders, then planted her hands on her hips and grinned.

This time he did laugh. And warmth flooded through him.
She's so incredible.

Logan stretched his legs out in front of him, feeling the early
afternoon sun seep through the denim, and watched Claire gather
her fishing gear. He'd offer to help, but he knew she'd shrug it
off. Her independence and spunk were in high gear, and for some
reason she seemed far more confident in this environment than
at the hospital.

He shook his head. He hadn't been kidding about her besting
him all day. She'd climbed like a gazelle up the rocky trail ahead of
him, not breaking a sweat, while he'd worked hard to catch upand struggled to cover the fact that the heart-pounding effects of
altitude were limiting his conversation to basic grunts and nods.
She'd shinnied agilely down the steep slope to this fishing spot like
she'd done it a thousand times before, while he lumbered behind
determined not to sit down and slide. She expertly tied the knots
on her fishing line-and his-then caught the biggest fish of the
day. Even if she couldn't hold on to it.

Logan took a deep breath of pungent alpine air and let his
gaze drift, taking in the height of the pines, the speckled granite
boulders rising through clumps of red-branched manzanita, and
knee-high grasses dotted with wildflowers below blue, blue sky.
And the soul-soothing sound of water tumbling over river rocks.
He loved it here, and it had always been exactly what he needed
when the pressures and turmoil of the ER squeezed in on him.
Quiet and solitude.

No, not solitude today. But then this was so much better.
Because Claire was so easy to be around. He hadn't expected that.
Although cold pizza for breakfast and the hassle-free ease of sharing tube socks four ways, straight out of the dryer, definitely had its benefits, spending much of his life in an all-male household
hadn't prepared Logan for dealing with the delicate intricacies
of relationships with women. Their sensitivity and exasperating
attention to details eluded him, and there was always that whiteknuckled need to be careful that things he said and did wouldn't
be misinterpreted. Like with Beckah. It had been both mysterious
and frustrating, and maybe that's why being with Claire seemed so
great. He blinked up into the sun as she appeared.

"So I've intimidated you?" she asked with a smirk. She leaned
her pole against a boulder and tossed a pinecone out of the way
before sitting beside him.

"Yes, brutally," Logan said, wishing she'd move a few inches
closer but completely happy that she was ... here. It felt better
than anything had in a long time, and he wasn't about to mess it
up. "Who knew that a nurse with pink scrubs could ... ?"

"Could what? What exactly am I doing?" Claire asked, her eyes
widening in the shadow of the ball cap. "Tell me. Now I'm curious."

And so very beautiful. Her eyes, Logan noticed, were the same
soft gray of a dove's wing. Almost a lavender gray, with flecks of
white, and lined with those long dark lashes. He blinked, remembering that she'd asked him a question. "I only meant that who
knew you had all these outdoor skills? I haven't met many women
who can climb rocks and scramble down a cliff without worrying
about her clothes or breaking a fingernail. Or who knows how to
lock in a Jeep's hubs for four-wheeling, tie a fisherman's knot, and
handle salmon eggs and red worms." He raked his fingers through
his hair and smiled. "I mean, it's great. You're easy to be around,
almost like you're-"

"A guy?" Claire interrupted, her eyes narrowing. "You're saying
I'm almost like a guy?"

"No, I didn't mean that at all. I . . ." Couldn't have said anything
more stupid. "I'm saying I'm having a great time. And that it's cool
that you're . . ." Logan groaned, flailing to dig himself out of the
hole. "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply-" He stopped, realizing she was laughing.