Washed Away (14 page)

“Let it fizzle out gradually, you mean?”

“I didn’t say that,” Cheryl retorted, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at him, couldn’t look in his eyes and deliver a barefaced lie.

“You didn’t have to say it, Cheryl, but we both know that’s what you’re thinking—get the hell out of here, put as much space between us as you possibly can so you can get your head together.”

“And what are you suggesting I do, Noah?” Cheryl said bitterly. “Call up work and hand in my notice? Arrange a removal truck to transport my stuff here?”

“Of course not….” Noah answered, but Cheryl hadn’t finished yet.

“We’ve known each other less than two days. Even forgetting what I’ve just told you, it would be reckless in the extreme to throw away—”

“No one’s asking you to throw everything away,” Noah said. “All I’m asking is that you stay a bit longer.”

“How?”

“Cheryl, you nearly drowned yesterday. You’re covered in bruises and cuts. If anyone deserves to be off sick, it’s you—take some downtime, spend some time here. We can go slowly if that’s what you want, but you know as well as I that if you go back now, if you leave Turning Point in the next couple of days,
you’ll be gone for good. Somehow you’ll convince yourself we didn’t really know each other enough. You’ll lose sight of the dream we found here together. You’ll put it all down to your head injury or some sort of bizarre holiday romance, and the farther away from us you go, the harder it will be to remember just how special this is.

“Two weeks,” he urged. “Stay for just two more weeks. We’ll say you can’t fly, that you’re nauseated from your head injury. Take a couple of weeks off work and we can have time to get to know each other, spend some real time together, work out what we’re going to do….”

It sounded so easy, so logical, and in truth, the easiest thing in the world for Cheryl would be to stay, to hold on to the fantasy for a bit longer. But she needed distance, clarity. She needed to examine her feelings.

“I have to go home, Noah.” She was so tempted to waver, to live the dream, bury the pain of the past and look to the future. It was so very tempting and yet so very scary. Somehow it was easier to be angry, to speak harshly rather than allow him to glimpse the indecision in her heart. “And you have to respect that. I’m not going to call in sick just to sort out my love life. I’m more professional than that.”

“You’re twisting my words.”

“Am I?” Her eyes widened. “If it’s so easy,
you
do it. If the next two weeks are so vital for us, why don’t
you
get on a plane and come home with me?”

“You know I can’t. This isn’t a job where I can just hang up a closed sign on the door and disappear for a
week or two, though believe me, right now there’s nothing I want to do more. People rely on me.”

“It’s the same for me, Noah,” Cheryl pointed out. “I don’t work in a candy store. I’m a trauma nurse. And as insensitive as it might sound, instead of saying that people rely on you, shouldn’t you be saying that it’s actually animals that rely on you, Noah? There is a difference. My patients happen to be human. I make a difference every day when I go to work, so don’t stand there and try to belittle my career, implying I’m just a nurse who can be easily replaced!”

She knew she’d gone too far even before the hurt flickered in his eyes. Cheryl knew that she had misinterpreted Noah’s words, and her response had been unfair. But she couldn’t take it back.

“
People
rely on me.” Noah’s expression was hard. “This is a ranching community, Cheryl. We’re talking about people’s livelihoods. If I hop on a plane and follow you back to Courage Bay for a couple of weeks without months of planning, then I let a lot of people down.”

“And that’s the crux of it—” Tears welled in her eyes as she admitted the truth. “This can never work. You know that and so do I. What if I do stay for a couple of weeks, what if this crazy dream does somehow carry on, what then?”

“We’d work something out….” Noah offered, but his voice faded and Cheryl knew he finally got it.

“You’re never going to leave, Noah,” she said with more than a trace of bitterness. “So better we end it now, cut our losses and get out before we really get hurt.”

“What do you want me to say, Cheryl? That I’ll walk away from everything I’ve spent my whole life building?” Anger was brimming to the fore now. “Hey, but then why the hell not? I could work in some poodle parlor, trim a few nails and make a real difference to the world. Come to think of it, I enjoyed treating Beth. Maybe I should head off to California and study to be a doctor, ask you to support me the same way your husband did. Would that make you feel better? Would that prove to you that I loved you enough?”

Angry emotions had been unleashed now, words said in haste that they knew would surely haunt them, but both of them were too proud and too raw to back down.

“You’ve got this vision in your head of the perfect woman, Noah,” Cheryl shouted. “A woman who’ll step into your dream world with no questions asked. Accept your bloody clinic because it’s your life, and heaven help her if she dares to question it. Heaven help her if she decides it’s not where she wants to be.”

“You wanted to be here, Cheryl,” Noah roared back. “The Cheryl that lay on that couch last night wanted to be here.”

“That was yesterday.”

“That was you!” His shout petered out midway, replaced with a rasping plea for her to listen. “That was you,” he said more softly. “The real Cheryl, the Cheryl that existed before she became so tired and jaded with others people’s lies that she built some wall around her heart and worked out some crazy guidelines that were supposed to keep her from getting hurt again. Don’t
make me out to be the bad guy here, Cheryl, when all I want to do is love you.”

“You’re not the bad guy,” Cheryl responded, struggling with her emotions. “You’re the good guy here, Noah, and that’s what scares me the most. I’m finally in control again. After two long hard years I know who I am and exactly where I’m going.” She gave a soft laugh. “At least, I did until the people in Turning Point started giving me directions. Noah, I swore I’d never set myself up for a fall again. That if ever I fell in love, if ever someone came along, then it would be on my terms. I’ve done the running around, supporting someone to follow his dreams, and I vowed that next time I’d want someone to help me follow mine. Then you came along.” He pulled her toward him then, his arms wrapping fiercely around her as if he couldn’t bear to let her go. She rested her head on his chest. “Even though I didn’t know my own name, you made me feel safe, Noah, that there was nothing to worry about. Magic did happen. I wasn’t just put here to help you with Beth, I was put here to find you. And the easiest thing in the world would be for me to follow my heart, to say to hell with it, what have I got to lose by staying?”

“What
have
you got to lose?” Noah asked gently, closing his eyes.

“The only piece of me that’s left.”

He never got to respond. A shrill
bleep
from Beth’s cell phone made them both jump. “There’s a signal,” she exclaimed.

For a second, neither of them moved.

“I’d better let Mitch know that you’re safe, arrange Beth’s transfer.” Noah’s eyes held hers. “What do I tell him, Cheryl?”

For a second she wavered, reluctant to leave this world they’d created, no matter how fraught with danger—both physical and emotional danger—it had become.

“Tell Mitch that I’m ready to come back to work,” Cheryl said at last.

“You’re sure?”

Slowly she nodded, her heart stilling as he punched in some numbers. The wait for Mitch to pick up seemed interminable. At last he did, and Cheryl listened as Noah summed up the roller coaster they had ridden for the past thirty-six hours in a few short sentences.

“They’ll be here at first light.” Noah’s voice was flat as he handed her the phone. “Earlier if the roads clear, but if not, they’ll send in a chopper. I told him Beth needed further surgery, and she’s right up there on the list of evacuees, but they’re still working flat out. It seems they’ve had a helluva time. Mitch wants to talk to you.”

Slowly Cheryl took the phone, and somehow hearing Mitch’s voice made her aware of the tension that had been holding her together. Tears slid down her cheeks as Mitch told her how glad he was that she was still around.

“I thought we’d lost you there, Cheryl.”

“I’m sorry.” Her words were strangled as she clutched the telephone. “Sorry for giving everyone such a fright, and I’m so sorry about your Jeep.”

“It’s a Jeep, Cheryl. After the night we’ve all had, it kind of puts things in perspective, doesn’t it.”

She couldn’t answer, just nodded into the phone.

“And don’t even think about working.”

“What about…” Cheryl began, but Mitch answered before she finished.

“We’ve got everything covered. They breed ’em tough out here, Cheryl. I’m just glad that you’re okay. Really glad,” he added softly.

“What about Jolene?” Wiping her tear-streaked cheek with the back of her hand Cheryl remembered that Mitch had sent his daughter out on a call before the hurricane struck. She held her breath, waiting for a happy ending, for Mitch to laugh and tell her Jolene was fine.

It never came.

“She’s a tough one.” Mitch swallowed. “She’ll be okay.”

“Mitch…” Cheryl’s sob was genuine but unheeded.

“She’ll be okay,” he said again firmly. “You came back to us, didn’t you, so why shouldn’t Jolene?”

Cheryl could feel Noah’s arms around her. He took the phone from her, ending the conversation with practical details, then heading over to her on the sofa.

“Jolene’s still out there,” she said.

Noah didn’t say anything. He didn’t tell her that Jolene wasn’t the only one missing. From what Mitch had said, even after the hell of yesterday, Turning Point was again facing one of its darkest nights. But Noah knew she couldn’t take that now. Tonight was for being strong, for being positive, for holding on to each other and
holding the dream just a little bit longer. Noah knew Cheryl’s inner reserves had been dredged till they were dry, and he needed to be strong for them no matter how much he was bleeding inside.

“Mitch said not to think about working.”

“He’s right,” Noah agreed. “You swallowed half a river, Cheryl. You’ve got a row of stitches in your cheek and you look like you’ve done ten rounds with Mike Tyson. You need to see a doctor, rest in your own bed. You need peace.”

“It’s over, isn’t it.” Her voice was hollow. The briefest of conversations with Mitch had rendered her both physically and emotionally exhausted.

Noah shook his head, reaching out into the darkness for her.

“It isn’t over, Cheryl. We’ve still got tonight.”

“D
O YOU THINK
he’s okay?” She was hanging over the sofa, gazing at the sleeping infant in the drawer, scarcely able to believe he could have come through a day like today so unscathed, so utterly oblivious, and now be so peacefully asleep.

Sleeping wasn’t even on the agenda for Noah and Cheryl. Both knew their time together was precious, that the hours that lay before them were numbered, and they had decided that resting could come later, that right here, right now they would simply enjoy the moment, push the past and future aside and cram as much as they could into the time that was left. It seemed wrong somehow to make love with Paul in the room, but it was nice just to lie there, to hold each other.

Reassured that the baby was fine, Cheryl rested her head back on Noah’s chest and laughed into the darkness as a lazy hand stroked her bare arm. They’d been comparing the worlds of a laid-back veterinarian and an uptight nurse.

“You really have a daily schedule?” Noah asked, and Cheryl felt his laughter beneath her cheek.

She playfully thumped him to be quiet, but Noah wasn’t about to let it go.

“You’re telling me you make a list each night for the following day? That you plan your meals a week in advance.”

“I have a weekly list,” Cheryl corrected. “I just
update
it in the evening.”

“Why?”

“I work shifts.” Propping herself up on her elbow, she managed a laugh at her own expense. “I just like to be organized, fit everything in.”

“Like what?”

“Well…” She pondered the question. “I belong to a gym, and if I’m on the late shift, I try to work out around ten a.m., but if I’m on a morning shift, I go to the hospital gym after I’m done at work. I’m pretty tired by then. The last thing I want to do is open the fridge and find there’s nothing for dinner. Believe me, in the emergency room there aren’t any grateful patents waving casseroles and chicken soup—”

“Maybe we should move him by the wall,” Cheryl suggested as Noah climbed over her and peered into the homemade crib, somehow managing to massage her shoulder at the same time.

“Why?”

“In case we forget he’s there. In case you get up in the night to go to the…”

“Cheryl, your obsessive-compulsive disorder is so misplaced here. You’re with a guy who at any given time has either a laboring puppy or newborn kittens on the
floor. My feet don’t touch the ground until I’ve turned on the lights.”

“I guess.” Cheryl sighed as Noah eased back down onto the deliciously cramped sofa. “It’s just that he’s so tiny.”

“Makes you feel sort of grown-up, doesn’t it?” His voice was still light but his tone more serious as she rose up on her elbow again, watching him through smiling eyes. “I know I joke and everything, but it’s not just a kitten or a puppy or Georgina. I mean, it’s a real little person lying there.”

“Who’s got a mom that needs to be checked on.”

“I’ll go,” Noah offered, even though it should have been Cheryl’s turn. “You gave a lot of blood today, Cheryl, and you’re coughing. You really should be resting.”

“I’ll rest on the plane home,” Cheryl answered. “I really want to see how Beth’s doing. Anyway, you’re talking to a health freak, remember? I’ll whip up another high-protein, multivitamin smoothie when I get up in the morning and I’ll soon be as good as new.”

She slipped out of the blanket and stood for a moment. “It’s nearly midnight. I should give her something to eat and drink and then have her nil orally. They’ll be operating as soon as she gets there.”

“Just something light,” Noah agreed, watching as she tossed her long mane behind her. “And maybe bring another bottle up for his lordship. For a little guy, he sure eats a lot.”

Being with Noah felt so right. Barely two days ago she hadn’t even known he existed.

Yet here she was, standing in a drafty kitchen in the
middle of the night in Noah’s socks and surgical blues, with the dogs lying in their basket.

She smiled as she poured formula into a baby bottle, and for a decadent moment she let her mind wander. She imagined that Madge and Buster were a permanent fixture in her life, that it was Noah and her baby she was preparing a bottle for, that this wasn’t one stolen night never to be repeated, and that Noah was waiting for her upstairs just as he always did, and always would.

It hurt.

It felt so right to be here that it actually hurt.

“H
EY
.”

Beth was rubbing her eyes, blinking as Cheryl flicked on the side light. “I brought you some tea and toast.”

“It’s midnight,” Beth groaned, straining to read the alarm clock.

“I know, but they’ll be operating on you as soon as you get to Houston, so now’s your last chance for a pig-out.”

“A midnight feast.” Beth smiled sleepily as Cheryl plumped the pillows and helped her sit up, careful not to disturb Flynn. “I hope you’re going to help me with all this.”

“The coffee’s mine,” Cheryl grinned, picking up a triangle of toast and nibbling the edges. “I’ve just given Noah a bottle and a hand towel, so I’ll hide in here for a bit while he figures out how to change Paul.”

“I need to feed him.”

“Not now, Beth,” Cheryl said. “You’re on strong
painkillers and antibiotics, and you’re still a bit dehydrated. Let Noah give him another bottle tonight.”

“My breasts hurt.”

“Here.” An empty glass wasn’t ideal but Cheryl helped Beth to express some milk and alleviate the pain of her engorged breasts. The small but intimate act seemed to bring the two women closer.

“Hal’s never changed him.” Beth shook her head. “Not that he doesn’t want to, of course. It’s just I…”

“Do it better?” Cheryl ventured. As the other woman nodded, Cheryl noticed for the first time how young Beth was, and how pretty. It struck Cheryl that even though they had shared so much, they actually knew very little about each other.

“How old are you, Beth?”

“Twenty-five. I look older, I know….”

“You don’t,” Cheryl said. “I guess with Flynn being seven and everything, I just figured you were older.”

“I was only eighteen when I had Flynn.” Beth fiddled with her toast for a moment, pushing it around the plate, then slowly opened up. “Mom and Dad live out at Corpus Christi. Hal’s parents are good and everything, but they’re…”

“Not yours.”

“I wish they lived in Turning Point,” Beth admitted. “Mom’s really got her head together. When she’s here she’s always telling me I should let Hal do more for Flynn. I know it will be the same with Paul, worse probably after what happened to Cody….”

Their eyes met and Cheryl gave a nod of encouragement, understanding the momentous step it had been for Beth to include Cody so easily in a conversation.

“I want him to help—I need him to help. It’s just somehow I can’t let go.”

“It must be hard, Beth,” Cheryl said thoughtfully, treading very carefully, wishing she was more appropriately qualified to help. “You know, when I was a student and I did my stint in OB, I had this dad who wanted to bath his son and the mother was having hysterics. I was, too. You should have seen this guy—he was huge. The sight of his massive hands holding this wriggling tiny baby was nerve-racking, and he plunged him in the bath as if he was…”

“Dipping a sheep?” Beth offered, and Cheryl nodded.

“Just like that. I was about to go and step in, you know, do the supernurse bit. I could see the mother was beside herself and I didn’t want her to get upset. Then the senior nurse arrived. She would have been coming up for retirement. She’d spent her whole working life in OB and knew everything. This was a woman who could get the most fretful baby off to sleep just by wrapping him up properly. Anyway, she said that if we interfered now, if we told this guy he was doing it wrong, this would be the first and last bath he gave that baby. And you know what?” She looked at Beth’s expectant face and smiled.

“The baby survived the ‘sheep dip,’ and even had a fresh diaper and gown put on. The gown was back to front, but the baby didn’t seem to mind. That little guy
would be eleven years old now, and I bet his dad changed half his diapers and gave him his bath each night when he was small.

“Babies are tough, Beth. Look at what Paul’s been through today, and the little fella’s fine. It’s no wonder you’re overly anxious after what happened to Cody. There’s nothing wrong in admitting you need help to get through being a mother to a new baby again.”

“I know,” Beth admitted. “I know you’re right. I’ve been lying here thinking about it, and even though I wish this accident hadn’t happened, maybe it was just meant to be. Maybe this is what I need. I’m going to get help, Cheryl. The second I come to from the operation, I’m going to ask for someone to come and talk to me. What Hal and Flynn and I have got—it’s just too good to let it slip away when there’s help out there.”

“I’m proud of you,” Cheryl offered, and even if it sounded a bit corny, it was heartfelt. “So proud of you, Beth.”

“Can I have Paul in with me? I’ll honestly sleep better if he’s beside me, and the second he wakes, I’ll send Flynn to come and get you.”

Cheryl hesitated for a second, but Beth needed her boys near. “When he’s had his bottle and been changed, I’ll bring him in beside you. But in the meantime, I want you to try to get some rest.”

“Wish you were here.” Beth smiled sleepily. “I wish there was someone like you in Turning Point who could actually point us in the right direction.”

W
HEN
C
HERYL WALKED
into the living room, she saw Noah silhouetted against the window, the baby cradled in his arms like a football. Hearing her enter, he pressed a finger to his lips, indicating for her to be quiet.

Making her way over to the sofa, she climbed beneath the blanket and lay back on the cushions simply watching. The moon provided enough light through the taped-up window that she could see the silhouette of his dark torso. His muscular arms cradled the infant, his hair flopping forward as he stared down at the baby. Cheryl felt a lump in her throat. Everything she wanted was there for the taking if only she could summon the courage to say yes. For two years she’d vowed that if love ever came along again it would be on her terms, that her career would always be her mainstay. Yet here she was, a mere whisper away from throwing caution to the wind and allowing herself to be caught up in the dream that was Noah Arkin.

“Penny for them.” Making his way over, Noah sat on the sofa beside her. Paul was making sweet baby sounds as he dreamed his milky dreams, and she saw Noah’s soft smile, felt the warmth of his gaze.

“I’m just thinking that I wish this night would never end.”

He gave a slow nod, understanding blazing in his eyes.

“Beth wants Paul in with her.” Cheryl’s fingers brushed the baby’s soft cheeks. “I said that once he was settled I’d bring him in.”

Noah nodded, staring down at the infant’s face, an expression she couldn’t read in his eyes. “Poor Cody.” He
was looking back at Paul now, and when he spoke, his voice was low and thoughtful. “I’ll never forget that day as long as I live.”

“It must have been awful.”

He nodded. “I knew then why I was a vet, Cheryl, and not a doctor. I couldn’t go through that again and live to tell the tale. I honestly don’t know how you do it. Doesn’t it get to you?”

“Oh, it gets to me.” Cheryl let out a weary sigh. “And anyone who says that it doesn’t is either lying or so completely burnt out that they don’t know what’s real anymore. But I guess at the end of the day, you just pray the good will outweigh the bad, and you console yourself that you save more lives than you lose.”

“It doesn’t put you off having kids?”

She shook her head.

“It did me.”

“You’ve just never met Ms. Right….” Cheryl mentally kicked herself and wished she could somehow take the words back. This sort of talk wasn’t going to get her anywhere. “I’d better get him back to Beth.”

“I’ll do it,” Noah offered, levering himself off the sofa and carefully placing the baby back into the crib. “She’ll probably rest better with both her boys beside her.”

Beth would rest easier with two of the people she loved most around her. Cheryl knew that. It was the same for her with Noah. The few hours they had been together felt so perfect, as if this was how life was supposed to be.

Would the fights that had crept up on her and Joe have happened if it had been her and Noah?

For the first time in her adult life, Cheryl didn’t automatically fold her clothes after she slipped them off. She just dropped the garments onto the floor as she pondered her conundrum.

No, the fights wouldn’t have happened, she decided.

Because no matter how she played it, no matter how she tried to imagine Noah as a twentysomething student, somehow she knew that despite his focus, despite his inner desire to succeed in his chosen field, it wouldn’t have been at the expense of her happiness. There was nothing remotely selfish about the man who was now crossing the room toward her, unself-consciously discarding his clothes, disarming her with a seductive smile before pulling back the crumpled blankets and climbing in beside her. His body was cool, and he drew warmth from her as he eased alongside her. And though the desire was there, the urgency was gone, allowing time for a more languid discovery.

He was like an open book.

Which didn’t mean predictable, Cheryl mused as he ran a strong hand down the length of her side, capturing the hollow of her waist and the curve of her hip as she turned to face him. He was the kind of book where you glimpsed a page and just knew you wanted to go on—to turn the pages and find out the secrets within.

So why couldn’t she stay?

“Just us two,” he whispered.

“Just us,” she breathed back, running a lazy finger around his nipple, feeling the swell of his manhood nudging her thigh. His hand was still working its magic,
but was more insistent now, massaging the soft marshmallow of her inner thighs as his lips found hers, kissing the hollows of her throat with a reverence that made her dizzy. Her hand crept to his back, feeling the taut muscles beneath her splayed fingers as his lips left hers. He blazed a trail of hot kisses along her throat, and each flick of his tongue had her sinking deeper into the moment. Her head arched back as he worked his way down to her breasts, teasing her with featherlight kisses. One hand was now stroking the soft down between her thighs, the teasing upward strokes light, yet finely attuned to her needs. She was torn between frustration and exhilaration, wanting so much to reciprocate, to feel him in her hands, to taste him with her mouth. Yet she was paralyzed with pleasure, content simply to lie there and let him take control.