Winds of Fortune

The winds of fortune are fickle guides…and happiness or heartbreak may be the destination. For Provincetown local Deo Camara, the only winds that have ever blown her way have been cold and lonely, and she doesn't expect things to improve when she is drawn into a family crisis against her will. Despite a decade of estrangement, however, Deo can't turn her back on the call of blood, no matter how high the price in heartache. Dr. Bonita Burgoyne is pleased with the changes she's made in her life…she has a rewarding new job and is looking forward to renovating the historic sea captain's house she has just purchased. She's content, and that's all she needs to be, or so she thinks until she hires Deo to head up the renovations. They have nothing in common except a shared legacy of betrayal by those they'd trusted the most, and an impossible attraction they would both prefer to ignore. Meanwhile, Bonita's new associate Dr. Tory King and her partner, Reese Conlon, must cero with the aftermath of the winds of war and the approaching fury of a very real gathering storm.

The fifth in the Lambda Literary Award-winning Provincetown Tales.

Winds of Fortune

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Winds of Fortune

© 2007 By Radclyffe. All Rights Reserved.

ISBN 13: 978-1-60282-246-7

This  Electronic Book is published by

Bold Strokes Books, Inc.,

P.O. Box 249

Valley Falls, New York 12185

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

First Edition: October 2007

This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

Credits

Editors: Ruth Sternglantz and J.B. Greystone

Production Design: J.B. Greystone

Cover Design By Sheri ([email protected])

Romances

Innocent Hearts

Love’s Melody Lost

Love’s Tender Warriors

Tomorrow’s Promise

Love’s Masquerade

shadowland

Fated Love

Turn Back Time

Promising Hearts

When Dreams Tremble

The Lonely Hearts Club

Night Call

Secrets in the Stone

The Provincetown Tales

Safe Harbor

Beyond the Breakwater

Distant Shores, Silent Thunder

Storms of Change

Winds of Fortune

Honor Series

Above All, Honor

Honor Bound

Love & Honor

Honor Guards

Honor Reclaimed

Honor Under Siege

Word of Honor

Justice Series

A Matter of Trust (prequel)

Shield of Justice

In Pursuit of Justice

Justice in the Shadows

Justice Served

Justice For All

Erotic Interludes: Change of Pace

(A Short Story Collection)

Radical Encounters

(A Erotic Short Story Collection)

Stacia Seaman and Radclyffe, eds.

Erotic Interludes 2:
Stolen Moments

Erotic Interludes 3:
Lessons in Love

Erotic Interludes 4:
Extreme Passions

Erotic Interludes 5:
Road Games

Romantic Interludes 1:
Discovery

As I complete the final edits of this work, I am fortunate to be staying in the seaside village that is as much a character in these stories as the people who populate the novels. The harbor at sunrise, the sounds of the ocean, and the spirit of those adventurers and artists who have come before never fail to inspire me. I’m sure I have not yet captured more than a glimpse of the beauty, grace, and history that is Provincetown, but it continues to be my very great pleasure to try.

My thanks go to my first readers Diane, Eva, Jane, Paula, and RB, as well as to my editors, Ruth Sternglantz and J.B. Greystone, and the generous proofreaders at Bold Strokes Books for making this a better book. All the credit goes to these dedicated individuals and the responsibility for any shortcomings to me.

Thanks also to Sheri for yet another standout cover.

To Lee, for sharing the adventure.
Amo te.

For Lee

For weathering every storm

Dr. Victoria King dropped a chart on top of the eight inch stack on her desk and checked her watch. Ten minutes to two. God, she was going to be late for her own daughter’s first birthday party.

“Why don’t you get out of here,” a voice said from behind her.

Spinning around, Tory smiled at the trim African-American woman in a white lab coat who stood in her office doorway. Like Tory, her new associate, Dr. Nita Burgoyne, was dressed casually, but in contrast to Tory’s pressed jeans and boatneck navy cotton tee, Nita’s stylish emerald green blouse, sand colored slacks, and tan sling-back, low-heeled shoes hinted at designer labels. She hadn’t quite made the transition from big city ER doctor to small town doc just yet.

“You’ve been here, what—five weeks,” Tory said, “and already you’re reading my mind?”

“Didn’t take telepathy.” When Nita shook her head, the gold clasp she used to restrain her shoulder-length, wavy black hair at her nape glinted in the overhead lights, echoing the amusement that shimmered in her deep brown eyes. “I could hear your thoughts out in the hallway.”

“Well, I’m glad I didn’t finish what I was thinking, then.” Tory grimaced. “How many more do we have?”

“Not enough for you to worry about.” Nita lifted a shoulder in the direction of the hallway behind her. “Now go while the coast is relatively clear.”

Tory hesitated, torn between wanting to be with her family and knowing she was needed at the clinic. During tourist season, the East End Health Clinic was open seven days a week, and patient hours often stretched well beyond the scheduled times. Here emergencies were the norm, rather than the exception. Minor accidents, fender benders, forgotten medication, common colds, and more serious events ranging from heart attacks to strokes were daily fare. It might be quiet right this minute, but chances were it wouldn’t be for long—not on Sunday afternoon of Fourth of July weekend in Provincetown—and Nita hadn’t worked a holiday alone yet.

“I’m not some green intern,” Nita chided good-naturedly, obviously continuing to read Tory’s mind despite her earlier denial. “Sally is the best nurse I’ve ever worked with and better than a lot of the doctors I’ve known. We’ll be fine.”

Tory considered arguing, but she could tell by the set of Nita’s slender shoulders that her mind was made up. She had learned very quickly that in Nita’s case, looks were very definitely deceiving. Although Nita’s dark almond eyes, sculpted features, and smooth coffee-and-cream complexion gave her a look of exotic, nearly delicate beauty, she was neither delicate nor insubstantial in any way. Ten years Tory’s junior, she was a self-assured, highly capable professional, and wonderful with the patients. Even though she was personally reserved and rarely talked about her private life, her genuine warmth and compassion were obvious, and Tory liked her.

“You’ll call me if things get busy?” Tory asked.

Nita folded her arms beneath her breasts and pursed her lips.

“Okay. Okay.” Tory held up both hands in surrender. “Will you at least stop by the party later? We’ll have plenty of food and the adults will out-number the kids, I promise.”

When Nita looked uncertain, Tory felt a surge of guilt. As far as she knew, Nita had yet to really meet anyone in the community outside of patients and the office staff. Part of that was Tory’s fault. She should have had a welcoming reception for her when she joined the practice, and what she’d greeted her with instead was a crisis. Nita had only been with her a few days before Reese had been reported missing in action in Iraq. With her lover probably wounded or possibly dead, Tory had barely managed to keep her sanity and had foisted all but the major responsibilities of the clinic onto Nita. Everything else had fallen by the wayside. Even now, though she tried not to let it show, Tory still felt as if her life was on shaky ground.

“It’ll just be some good friends and family,” Tory urged.

Finally, Nita nodded, hiding her reluctance behind a smile. A child’s birthday would be harmless, and she only needed to make a brief appearance. “Thank you. That would be nice.”

“Good. Then I’ll just finish up these chart—”

“Tory! Get!”

Laughing, Tory shrugged out of her lab coat and tossed it onto the high backed leather chair behind her overflowing desk. “I’m gone.”

Just as Tory stepped out into the hall, their receptionist rushed in from the waiting area and skidded to a halt beside her. Lithe and handsome, Randy’s blond hair was uncharacteristically mussed and his big blue eyes were overly bright.

“Sorry,” he said breathlessly, looking from Tory to Nita and back again, “but Deo Camara just brought Joey Torres in, and he’s bleeding all over the waiting room. Sally’s putting them in the procedure room.”

“What happened?” Tory inquired sharply, turning back into her office for her lab coat. If Randy was ruffled it must be serious, because he could simultaneously handle five emergency calls, three hysterical mothers, and a recalcitrant insurance rep without breaking a sweat.

“Deo said something about a saw.”

“Thanks, Randy,” Nita said calmly. “Why don’t you get the waiting room cleaned up and let the other patients know there might be a little bit of a wait.”