by C. J. Miller
She was closer to her brother and Rafe now and she wished she had minded her own business and stayed inside to help Anand. She had often stood between her brothers Theo and Flint when they argued, but this was different.
She didn’t know Rafe as well and he didn’t have a soft spot for her the way her brothers did.
The tension between Flint and Rafe was palpable.
“Everything okay?” she asked, knowing it wasn’t, but looking to tamp down their mutual frustrations.
“We’ve lost hundreds of hours of research,” Rafe said.
“I know,” Gemma said. “But we’ll get it back.” She didn’t know how they could do more, but they would. Too many people were relying on the clinic to succeed.
Rafe stared at her incredulously. “How is that, Nurse Colton? Do you have the test data and the lab results and additional samples we can work with?”
His sharp tone stung. He was mad and having trouble controlling his temper.
“You know that I don’t,” Gemma said, countering his anger with a cool tone.
“Then how can we make this right?” he asked.
“We have the data we uploaded to the CDC. We have what we’ve learned. We won’t make the same mistakes and we already know what doesn’t work,” Gemma said, thinking of the time they had lost because they’d stored earlier samples at the wrong temperature and killed the virus.
“Mistakes?” Rafe asked.
He and Dr. Rand insisted the temperature issue hadn’t been a mistake. It was research. Gemma preferred to call a spade a spade. “I’ll give you that if we could lower our patient’s temperature to zero degrees Celsius for a time, the virus would die.” A concession.
He scowled. “We learned from that same failure that the virus can’t live off a live host for more than a couple of hours.”
“See? We have dozens of those observations that we can start with. We’re not starting from a blank slate this time,” Gemma said. “We’re past the initial confusion. We know better what we’re doing.”
Rafe looked away, though his shoulders relaxed a fraction of an inch. She was calming him and she took it as a win. Every little forward step with Rafe was progress.
“Hey, easy,” Flint said, patting Rafe’s shoulder. “She didn’t do this. She’s trying to help.”
Rafe rubbed his eyes, perhaps trying to shake off his exhaustion. “Let me tell you what I don’t get. How did someone break into the clinic, trash my office, destroy the storage room and then decimate the lab without anyone hearing it? It took a flaming fire to set off the alarms and summon help.”
Gemma agreed the timing was strange. “Dr. Rand, Anand and Felicia were in the virus wing. You know it’s hard to hear inside the suits,” she said. At least, it was her understanding that Felicia, Anand and Dr. Rand had been alone. The overnight shift was bare bones. Dead River wasn’t big enough to support a hospital, so the clinic provided the town’s medical services. Before the outbreak, complex and inpatient cases were referred to nearby Cheyenne Memorial. Now, they were short staffed, trying to run the clinic twenty-four hours a day.
“I’ll look into it, Rafe,” Flint said carefully. “Maybe someone saw or heard something that will help.”
Rafe looked at the sky and then nodded at Flint. “Let me know if I can help. In the meantime, I have more samples to collect. We’re starting over and I don’t have time to waste.”
He turned on his heel and stalked away.
Gemma stared after him for a few seconds, deciding if she should tag along to help or give him time to cool off.
“Careful, Gemma,” Flint said.
Gemma inclined her head at her brother. “Careful about what?”
“He’s not sticking around. I know that look in your eyes. You can’t save him. Rafe is a man with too many demons.”
Gemma straightened. She wasn’t thinking about saving Rafe, but she could be a friend, one he sorely needed. If he could stop seeing her as his friend’s annoying kid sister, they could have a real relationship. “The look in my eyes is a look of concern. I am worried about you. I am worried about everyone on staff here. I am worried about my patients.” She threw up her hands and gestured around them. “I am worried about everyone in this town if we don’t find a cure.”
Flint slid his arm around her shoulders. “I know you are. You have the warmest heart I’ve ever met, except for maybe Gram Dottie.”
At the mention of their grandmother, Gemma’s heart fell. “I’m worried about her,” Gemma said. Their grandmother had contracted the virus and had been admitted to the virus wing because her case was severe. Gram Dottie was tough, but the virus was proving tougher. As yet, not a single person had recovered.
“Me too,” Flint said. He kissed the top of his sister’s head. “Go help Rafe. He’s always been rough around the edges, but he’s smart. I’ve got my money on you and him to find the cure.”
Gemma was doing everything she could, but virology and epidemiology weren’t her fields of expertise. “We’ll find the cure. You find who did this,” Gemma said. She hugged her brother goodbye, smiling when she smelled Nina’s perfume on him. She was happy to know her brother finally had someone special in his life.
Gemma returned to the clinic and put on her protective suit. She entered the virus wing, where she knew she’d find Rafe. She didn’t hear him over their comm system. He must have shut off his microphone.
He was in one of their patients’ rooms. From his demeanor, if she hadn’t witnessed it herself, she wouldn’t have known he’d been upset. With his patients, he was warm and concerned. He joked with them, laughed with them and didn’t rush them, taking time to answer questions at length. With the influx of critical cases, they were short on time, but Rafe didn’t make anyone feel that way. He had an easy way about him that was disarming.
Rafe was the only doctor on staff who drew patients’ blood samples. Dr. Goodhue, Dr. Rand and Dr. Moore always called for a nurse to take care of the task. It was another way in which Rafe was different. From the time Gemma had started working at the clinic, she was an assistant to the doctors. Rafe didn’t make her feel like she was helping him. When they worked together, she felt she was pulling her weight and making important contributions.
Gemma entered the room and Rafe glanced over his shoulder at her. “How can I help?” She had to speak loudly for Rafe to hear her over the venting in his suit.
“We need samples from each of our patients,” Rafe said.
He was accustomed to giving orders. His tone was mellow, but Gemma heard the edge and the command.
Carter Saunders, a wrangler in his midforties, struggled to sit up. “Have you made any progress on a cure?”
Rafe hadn’t told Carter about the break-in and fire at the clinic. They needed to keep their patients’ spirits high. Rafe had undertaken the project to make their patients more comfortable, setting up video streaming on-demand via the small televisions in the rooms and providing e-readers for patients. He’d also configured video conferencing software on laptops so patients could see and talk with their families during their extended time in isolation. His kindness touched her and his savvy with technology impressed her.
“Every day, we’re getting closer,” Rafe said.
“Can I bring you anything while I’m here?” Gemma asked Carter. Since the outbreak, the clinic had taken to serving food around the clock to their patients. The Dead River Café and the Blue Bear Restaurant were dropping off soup and meals for the patients and staff daily. It was an unexpected and welcome convenience. The clinic hadn’t been constructed to provide food service, and without an on-site kitchen, Gemma guessed she and the other nurses would be heating canned soups over Bunsen burners for their patients.
“Some more water,” Carter said.
“I’ll be right back,” Gemma said. She retrieved wa
ter from the small sink in Carter’s room. Though the patients had confirmed cases of the Dead River virus, they were confined to their rooms to prevent the spread of symptoms.
Gemma sat with Carter for a few minutes, and as he dozed off to sleep, she and Rafe slipped from the room. The Dead River virus was exhausting for patients to fight. Some slept fifteen to sixteen hours a day. Keeping them hydrated and eating enough nutrients was a challenge.
Rafe typed notes on Carter’s chart and Gemma moved to the next room.
Tammy Flynn, their youngest patient, a six-year-old girl, was watching television in her room when Gemma entered. Her parents video-conferenced with her several times a day, but the separation was taking its toll. Tammy had grown close to Gemma and Gemma had “adopted” her as her temporary daughter.
Thinking about what the virus was doing to families broke her heart. Gemma didn’t allow her patients to see her break down, but some nights, she returned home and did just that. The Dead River virus had brought so much heartache to this town.
“Hey, Tammy,” Gemma said, coming to the girl’s bedside.
“I have a gift for you,” Rafe said, entering the room behind Gemma.
He handed Tammy a shiny pink gift bag. Tammy’s eyes grew wide and she opened it, pulling out plastic beakers and tongs and a pair of goggles.
“This is awesome!” The little girl held up a plastic beaker with the tongs.
“That’s really cool,” Gemma said, surprised at Rafe’s thoughtfulness. When had he had time to acquire such a gift and how?
“I told you I would bring some lab equipment so you could help me,” Rafe said.
Was she hearing the conversation properly? As distant and cool as Rafe was with everyone in Dead River, he had certainly allowed Tammy into his heart. It was touching and Gemma wondered how detached Rafe was able to stay.
“Please show me what to do,” Tammy said, sounding excited.
“We’ll set it up,” Rafe said.
With a couple pitchers of water and some food coloring, Tammy was conducting her own study. She fell asleep with her beakers lined up on the slim table next to her bed.
After they left the room, Rafe took notes on the laptop in the hallway to update Tammy’s case. The notes would be sent electronically to their record system in the main clinic and uploaded to the CDC at the end of the week.
“That was really nice of you,” Gemma said. It wasn’t the first gift Rafe had brought Tammy or the other patients. The staff tried to think of activities to keep boredom and cabin fever at bay. Rafe had a knack for coming up with games for Tammy to play.
“Danny helped me put it together,” Rafe said. “I told him about Tammy and he thought of it.”
Danny was Rafe’s foster son. Rafe mentioned him often, though he didn’t delve into much detail about him. The few times Gemma had tried to draw him out, Rafe hadn’t taken the bait.
“I’ll take Jessica’s blood sample,” Gemma said.
Rafe’s hand on her arm stopped her. Even with layers of plastic between them, her skin prickled with desire. Rafe dripped charisma and a raw sensuality she couldn’t ignore.
“Are you planning to tell her what happened?” Rafe asked.
Jessica was Gemma’s best friend. They told each other almost everything. But Jessica was pinning her hopes on the staff at the Dead River Clinic finding a cure and if she knew how much they had lost that night, she’d be devastated. A blow to her morale was bad for her health.
“No, not today,” Gemma said.
Rafe nodded his approval. Gemma collected the supplies she needed.
Jessica had lost ten pounds since being admitted. She was a tall, slender woman and didn’t have the weight to spare. Jessica smiled when Gemma entered the room. She put the television on mute. “Tell me you have some good news.”
Gemma double-checked that her microphone was off so Rafe wouldn’t hear their conversation. “I dropped off Annabelle with Molly before I came to work. Molly was planning to meet Ellie and Amelia at the library for story time.”
“She’ll love that.” Jessica closed her eyes. Like most of their patients, she’d been chronically tired, sleeping the majority of the day. It was difficult to see Jessica, who was normally active, being so listless. “How is Tom holding up?” she asked.
Jessica’s husband Tom was struggling under the weight of his responsibilities of being a single parent while Jessica was in isolation. Gemma and her cousin Molly had stepped in to lend a hand, but he wouldn’t feel better until Jessica was home. “He’s doing the best he can.”
Jessica smiled a weak half smile. “That bad?”
Tom had confided how scared he was for Jessica and for their daughter Annabelle. He worried about his little girl becoming another of the virus’s victims. His worry wasn’t unique. Some parents had stopped sending their children to school because of that fear. “He loves you and he wants you to feel better,” Gemma said.
“I know. I love him and Annabelle too. I’m trying. But this virus is like a flu that won’t quit.”
Many of the virus’s symptoms were similar to the flu, which was how they had missed the severity with their first case. The flu wasn’t an emergency, not for someone otherwise healthy, as their first virus patient had been. This virus was new territory for them. “I uploaded new pictures for you to look at and a video of Annabelle reading a new book from school.”
“Thank you for everything that you’re doing. Talking to my family and you is getting me through this.” At Gemma’s prompting, Jessica took a sip of the drink at her bedside. “Tell me what’s new with you. You tell me about my family, but you have a lot going on too.”
Gemma rolled her eyes. “It’s a regular revolving door of men at my place. Everyone’s looking to score a date with the plague nurse who works all the time. When I can, I’ve been visiting Theo, Ellie and baby Amelia. She’s getting big so fast and I love spending time with her.”
“They do that. One minute, you’re cradling them in your arms, the next, they’re grown and rolling their eyes at you. What about that new doctor? He’s worth a second look.”
“Rafe? He’s not new exactly,” Gemma said, feeling the heat rush to her cheeks.
Jessica hadn’t attended high school with Gemma. Tom had moved to town to work on Theo’s ranch, bringing his pregnant wife with him and Gemma had hit it off with Jessica immediately. They’d been fast friends ever since. “Oh, come on, you said you thought he was cute in high school. What about now?”
Still cute, although seeing him now brought entirely different feelings. She didn’t feel like giggling and blushing when she saw him. She felt like seeing if he was as incredible a kisser as he was a doctor. “He is. I’m not blind. But I’m also not interested in an affair. He’s only here until we find a cure for the virus, then he’s heading back to New York City. His dream job awaits him.”
“His dream job, but maybe his dream girl is right here.”
Gemma laughed. “No way. I dated a doctor once and you know how that went down. Badly. Like a ten-mile-long-train-wreck badly.”
Jessica sighed. “I do. But that was one person, one time. You can’t judge the whole lot of doctors over one jerk.”
Gemma waved her hand. “I’m too busy, anyway. I’ll worry about finding a boyfriend when men can come and go freely in this town.”
“Valentine’s Day is right around the corner.”
A day Gemma didn’t like much. Being single for the majority of Valentine’s Days in her life gave her a different perspective. The perspective that she didn’t need another excuse to drink wine and eat chocolates—that she bought herself—in her home alone. “Not right around the corner. It’s not even Christmas yet.”
“You know as soon as those Christmas decorations are put away, the red hearts and boxes of chocolates come out,” Jessica s
aid.
Gemma nodded, but she thought of the bare shelves at the grocery store and shops along Main Street. If the quarantine wasn’t lifted, nonessentials like seasonal items wouldn’t make it on the shipments into town.
She couldn’t imagine this dragging on for that many months more, but what if it did? What if every person in Dead River succumbed to the virus?
Dr. Colleen Goodhue said she had only seen rare cases where a virus obliterated an entire town, usually in third world countries. The Dead River virus was proving to have staying power. It was stronger and stealthier because it kept its human host alive long enough to infect many others.
With her grandmother and best friend sick, Gemma had plenty of reasons to devote everything she had to finding a cure. Knowing so much was on the line only drove her harder.
Chapter 2
At the end of her shift, Gemma found Dr. Goodhue and Rafe in the lab. Dr. Goodhue seemed shell-shocked as she looked through some notebooks, but as usual, Rafe worked like a man on a mission.
“It’s hard to believe someone would do this,” Dr. Goodhue said. “I called the home office and they said they’d send more supplies, but it will take time. How will our research continue without a proper lab?”
Gemma didn’t like to hear Dr. Goodhue sounding distraught. She was the most experienced in this type of work and while the break-in and fire were upsetting, they didn’t have the option to quit.
“We’ll work with what we have left,” Rafe said.
Rafe wouldn’t let time pass while they waited for a shipment and forgo possible progress. From the beginning, he had been driving them hard, urging them to work more and longer. He had good reasons, but sometimes Gemma thought breaks and time away could give them a fresh perspective.
What did Rafe do with his free time? Did he have free time? Gemma didn’t go out often, and rarely now that she worked so much. What would it be like to have a social life again and how would she feel if Rafe was part of it? Her conversation with Jessica had given her something to think about.
