Critical Care (20 page)

"I'm kidding." She laughed again as she pulled off her cap and
tugged her hair free from the elastic band. It spilled down around
her shoulders, shiny as mink in the sunlight. "I know what you
meant, and-" her eyes rose to his-"I'm having a great time too.
Don't worry."

"Good." He exhaled, not sure how much of his breathlessness
was due to mountain altitude and how much was relief. At any
rate, he was back on track. "So, where'd you learn to be such a
pioneer woman?"

Claire's gaze dropped to the ball cap in her hands. When she
looked up again, her beautiful eyes looked achingly sad. "Don't
forget that I have ... had ... a brother."

I'm a fool, Logan thought, using all the restraint he had not to
wrap his arms around her.

She was quiet for a moment, and then she reached for her fishing pole. "Didn't you promise me lunch?"

"I did. Pack up your worms, mountain girl. Then give me a
decent head start to the Jeep. I know where to find the best burgers
in Tahoe."

Erin set her sandwich on the dashboard as Brad handed her a
cashier's check, not the rolls of casino quarters she'd half expected
to see. It was made out for two hundred and fifty dollars to the
Little Nugget Victim Fund.

She looked sideways to where he sat at the wheel of the parked
Corvette convertible, afternoon sun glinting off the surface of his
sunglasses. It hadn't gone unnoticed, either, that he'd dialed the
radio to her favorite station. The rhythm of contemporary Christian music blended in harmony with the distant laughter of children playing in Gold Bug Park. A lunchtime escape, perfect breeze,
impromptu picnic in a fabulous car, music that spoke to her soul,
and now a generous donation to her favorite charity? All on the
heels of that extravagant bouquet of roses. How could she still
doubt him?

"Happy now?" Brad asked.

Erin sighed, willing the uncertainty to vanish. "Well, it's really
generous. Jamie's mother can definitely use this." Along with the
money that wiped out my checking account. She smiled with sincere
appreciation. "Thank you." She tapped the paper wrapping on her
prime rib sandwich. "For all of this. The surprise lunch and the car
ride. It's nice."

"Just nice?"

What was she supposed to say? That all this stuff made up for
the fact he'd shown up at the children's charity to pressure her into
leaving, then taken off to South Tahoe without her? That ducttaping a note to her door was consideration enough? She exhaled
slowly to dispel a wave of anger. Lord, keep one hand on my shoulder
and the other one clamped tight over my mouth. Please. Erin tossed
Brad a weak smile, deciding silence was her best option.

"Hmm. Okay, then." Brad pulled off his glasses and pointed
toward the glove compartment. "But do something for me, would
you? Open that and take out what's inside."

Now what? Erin glanced covertly at her watch before following Brad's instructions. She needed him to drive her back to the ER. So ... she opened the glove compartment and lifted out a
square, flat box embellished with a shiny gold Angel Store sticker.
"Brad ...

"Go on. Open it. You'll like it. I promise."

She lifted the lid warily and then murmured with genuine
delight. It was beautiful-beads of gold filigree interspersed with
crystal on a stretchy band. She lifted it out, letting the charm, a
tiny box, dangle and glint in the sunlight. "It's the prayer bracelet!
It's wonderful. Exactly the one I'd been wanting. Oh, thank you
so much!" She leaned over in the leather seat and brushed her lips
against his cheek. Then felt his arms close around her.

"I'm glad I finally got something right," Brad whispered against
her ear. "I want to make you happy, Erin." He nuzzled her cheek,
then took her face in his hands and lightly kissed her.

"I ... well, thank you." Erin leaned away. "But I've got to get
back to work. Really. I have to relieve Sarah for her break, finish
writing my agenda for the staff meeting, and put up flyers in the
nurses' lounges about Faith QD...." She let her words trail away
when she saw him frown.

"You've got to cut back. I keep telling you that. You need to
learn to have some fun." He slipped on his glasses, started the
Corvette's powerful engine, and raised his voice to be heard. "We'll
start Sunday morning. Drive to Reno and catch the car races. Think
about it." He retrieved her sandwich from the dashboard and
steered away from the curb.

Sunday. Meaning church didn't figure into his plans-again.
She nudged the tiny prayer box with her finger, her emotions
tumbling faster than the Corvette took the corners. Guilt over her
continuing doubts despite Brad's obvious attempts to please her,
anger at his lack of consideration for her priorities, and a continued wistful longing for what she'd talked about with Claire yesterday.
Men with sincere hearts. They'd agreed completely, almost like
long-lost sisters, and she'd loved that feeling.

Erin grasped the door handle to keep from sliding as Brad took
the last of the curves before the straightaway leading into the Sierra
Mercy Hospital parking lot. She peered at him for a moment and
smiled, picturing a teeny slip of paper tucked into the beautiful
little prayer box. She tapped her finger over her heart, imagining
words printed in the smallest of type: Help Brad understand that
what counts is right in here. Yes. She'd give it to God.

She tapped her heart once more for good measure as they
roared up to the doors of the ER.

Claire stopped at the doorway leading onto the marina restaurant's
deck, catching a glimpse of Logan in the distance. She shook her
head. What she'd thought that first day she'd met him in the ER
was true; his eyes were exactly the blue of Lake Tahoe. In fact, right
now ... She studied his face as he spoke with the waitress, dappled
sunshine spilling across the shoulders of his rugby shirt and unruly
curls, his rugged features silhouetted against the beautiful vista of
the alpine lake. Claire's breath caught. She'd been wrong; his eyes
were bluer than Tahoe.

What about the other things she'd thought about him that
first day when they'd butted heads over her staff interviews? Had
she been wrong about those too? She'd thought him insensitive,
a bully, a callous, unbending Goliath. The enemy. And had been
beyond angry when he'd mentioned weak links. Still was.

Claire stepped out of the way of a waitress and then saw Logan
waving at her. She waved back and walked toward him, a thought making her smile. Supping with the devil again. But maybe it was
the risk she'd have to take if she was going to learn more about
this man. She had to admit that there were things she was curious
about. His interests, his family ... Beckah?

"See," she said, settling into the chair opposite Logan and
raising palms still damp from washing. "Perfectly respectable. No
one would know I-" she smirked-"caught the biggest trout of
the day." She laughed and glanced around the umbrella-studded
deck and at the other patrons, glad she'd been able to freshen her
makeup and pick the pine needles out of her hair.

Sunnyside Mountain Grill, a favorite with both locals and tourists, was casually upscale with men and women sporting trendy
resort wear and sunglasses no doubt worth half a nurse's biweekly
paycheck. A jazz combo played at the edge of the deck, its bassheavy music blending with soft laughter, tinkling glassware, and
the crisp flutter of sails in the marina below. In the distance, the
majestic Sierra Mountains, peaks white with snow, seemed to rise
from the glassy blue surface of the lake itself.

Claire closed her eyes for a moment, letting the sun warm her
face and inhaling the wonderful mix of scents: pine trees, oiled
decking, coconut sunscreen ... and sizzling orders of burgers and
fries. Her stomach rumbled and she smiled. This was not her typical day, for sure. She opened her eyes as Logan spoke.

"So, what would you be doing right now if you weren't here,
humbling me with your fishing skills?"

Claire laughed. "Huge, important things. Like buying Smokey
a catnip toy. The one that looks like Jiminy Cricket. That might
get him to purr." She frowned. "The poor cat had another raccoon
scare."

"You mean-?"

"No, he's okay," Claire said quickly. "But there were footprints
on the deck outside his little pet door, and he was clinging to
the back of the couch like the whole house was surrounded." She
sighed. "Sometimes I think I should have sent Smokey to Phoenix
with my folks."

"You're from Arizona?" Logan leaned back as the waitress presented their plates.

"No." Claire smiled, realizing he'd already beaten her to the
punch in the get-to-know-you inquisition. "I'm a local. Sacramento.
My dad took a job transfer to Phoenix after ... my brother died."
She grabbed a fried zucchini stick, crispy and hot, and pointed it
at Logan, determined to turn the conversation back to him. "And
your family, Dr. Caldwell?"

Logan lowered his Angus burger. "Still in the San Jose area. My
father has two small hardware franchises now and hasn't remarried. One of my brothers manages the businesses for him, and the
younger one is pretending to go to Foothill College but spends most
of his time playing bass guitar for a country band. Silicon Posse.
They're not half bad. I go see them as often as I can. And ..."

Claire leaned forward. And Beckah Caldwell? Where is she? Do
you see her too?

"That's it for my immediate family." Logan raised his brows,
gesturing at her rapidly disappearing halibut sandwich. "Aha, we
see yet another impressive thing about Claire Avery: her heartyand completely feminine-appetite."

"True." Claire chuckled. "I'm never going to be the woman
who faints from skipping a meal. Like Sarah yesterday. In fact,
people would accuse me of-"

"Whoa. Back up." Logan's eyes clouded with concern. "What
happened to Sarah?"

Sarah glanced toward the doors of the nursery conference room
and then continued checking the contents of the neonatal emergency crash cart. It was a perfect time to do it, with most of the
nursing staff at their monthly meeting. This way she could be certain everything was in order and do it discreetly enough that the
staff wouldn't think she doubted their competence. There was no
room for even the smallest error when a baby's life was at stake. She
could get this completed and buy a carton of yogurt from the cafeteria on her way back. So Erin wouldn't go all mother hen again
about skipping meals. She sighed. Not that yesterday's near faint
had been only about food. But she couldn't let Erin know about
the insomnia, the wine, and the sleeping pills.

The pills-one at bedtime, then another half pill at 2 a.m.-
were the reason she'd been late this morning. Late. For the first
time since she'd started working at Sierra Mercy. Twenty-three minutes late because she'd slept through both of her alarms. It still
made her sick to think about it. Erin had graciously brushed it off,
but Sarah couldn't stop the painful rush of what-ifs. What if someone had come in under CPR and the defibrillator failed? What if a
baby started choking and the suction machine wasn't connected
properly? What if it was my fault? All of it?