Lost in the Wind

by Calle J. Brookes

  Nikkie Jean was such a pretty girl. Smart, too. More than smart, she was beyond brilliant. She’d go far in the field of pediatric surgery. She was laughing about something Lacy had said, and Wallace bit back a smile.

  He loved it when she laughed. It always brightened the room.

  This wasn’t the first time he’d been attracted to a young woman he worked with.

  Women who understood him better than Jennifer.

  He’d almost always regretted the affairs, but he was secure in the knowledge that Jennifer hadn’t known. He’d always protected her from knowing, from that hurt.

  Nikkie Jean was just the type of woman he’d always needed in his life. She was happy about everything. Always had a smile on her face. Uncomplicated. And it was a pretty smile, with dimples and eyes that always laughed. She was much easier to be around than Lacy Deane, who was far more acerbic.

  Lacy Deane was more like Jennifer had used to be. Droll, witty, snarky, beautiful. But Nikkie Jean was a balm to a man’s soul.

  Her mother had been that way as well.

  It had taken Wallace a while to put together who Nikkie Jean actually was. The email he’d received that morning had clarified why she’d always seemed so familiar to him. An old friend from medical school had forwarded a flyer to every physician he knew around the country.

  He sent one every year around this time, but this was the first time Wallace had opened it since Nikkie Jean had transferred to Finley Creek General.

  Wallace had sworn aloud when he saw the age-progressed photograph staring back at him from his screen. A missing-child flyer.

  It was a highly accurate digital representation; he’d almost been convinced that it was an actual photograph of Nikkie Jean Netorre instead of a computer-generated approximation of what his former colleague’s daughter would look like now.

  She was Jordan Carrington’s daughter; Wallace would bet money on it.

  He’d heard her say before that she was estranged from her family. Wallace wasn’t surprised. Nikkie Jean’s mother had been a real piece of work before her death a good dozen years back.

  Wallace hadn’t attended the funeral, but Jennifer had.

  He wondered if he should say something to her. Let her know her father was still looking for her.

  Her father had been a good man, always willing to help others.

  He’d helped Wallace get through some of his own med school classes, actually tutoring him at times.

  Wallace couldn’t forget that debt. But there was a reason Nikkie Jean didn’t want her father knowing where she was. And he respected that.

  He’d just have to watch and think about what he should do. If he revealed her whereabouts, that could potentially tie him to the nurse who had worked directly with Nikkie Jean’s father fifteen years ago.

  Something else he had to consider. The ramifications of that…could be devastating. Sweat beaded on his neck as he thought about it. He discreetly wiped it away.

  “Dr. Netorre, Dr. Deane, good to see you.” His path hadn’t crossed theirs today. He nodded at the men behind them.

  It wasn’t unusual to see those men hovering around the female members of the surgical department. Wallace understood why. He suspected Jacobson was as fascinated by the two women as he was that redheaded nurse Holden-Deane was with now.

  Why wouldn’t the other men in the department want to spend a bit of their free time with pretty, sweet-smelling females who made a man feel important the moment they smiled at them? Wallace certainly did.

  “Dr. Henedy,” Nikkie Jean said, quietly. She hadn’t been the same since the Henderson boy had died from an anaphylactic reaction back in May.

  Wallace had gone over his notes and the file repeatedly in the few weeks since. He always obsessed over the ones he’d lost. But he hadn’t made a mistake. It had just been a tragedy. Had the boy come in earlier and not been in such acute distress, things might have been different. He might have been able to come back from the reaction. But it hadn’t. The cards had fallen where they’d fallen.

  He had been doing the job long enough to know that.

  But sweet little Nikkie Jean, she hadn’t grown a thick skin yet. He half hoped she wouldn’t. That she would always keep the joy of who she was. Her father had been just as sensitive to the world as she was; eventually he’d closed himself off. Wallace had understood that, too.

  Dr. Holden-Deane came in, like a damned force of nature. Wallace was six two and had been in good physical shape his whole life. He felt like a ninety-pound weakling next to Dr. Holden-Deane. The man was the perfect image of successful doctor. He hadn’t struggled in anything, the gossip said. And there was plenty of gossip.

  He was now married to one of the nurses who was good friends with both Lacy and Nikkie Jean. A beautiful woman who would help him in his career and would understand him. Not to mention was sexy as hell.

  Rafael Holden-Deane was a damned lucky man.

  Wallace used to think he was, too.

  Now he wasn’t so sure. Jennifer just didn’t seem happy with him any longer. Sometimes he wondered if the only reason they hadn’t divorced yet was because of the public perception and the effect a divorce would have on Jennifer’s career.

  He took the seat next to Nikkie Jean, pretending not to notice how she shifted subtly to put more space between them. Like she always did.

  Nikkie Jean shied away from all men. Frightened, the gossip said. Though no one knew quite why.

  But if she was who she thought she was, Wallace understood.

  There had been some nasty scandal with her family two years after Wallace and Jennifer had relocated so they didn’t have to uproot the newly orphaned Raymond. A scandal Jennifer had delighted in sharing with him. Wallace had been disgusted by it—and concerned for the teenage girl involved.

  Nikkie Jean. She’d been Dannica Carrington then, three years younger than his son Reggie.

  It was just one of the questions Wallace wanted to ask her. One of the things he wanted to make right for her again.

  Holden-Deane started speaking. “There’s a new buyer looking at Finley Creek Gen. And they’re going to start in these departments—”

  Sweat broke out on Wallace’s neck as what that meant for him started to sink in. Dr. Alvaro was doing the exact same thing. If the two men ever got together to compare notes, Wallace could be in some serious hot water.

  Hot water that could mean serious jail time if he couldn’t get out of it.

  That would be far more of a scandal than a divorce would. Jennifer’s life would be ruined. And she would never forgive him.

  Clean up your own messes.

  Now he understood what Jennifer meant.

  Wallace had to figure out what to do next.

  22

  NIKKIE JEAN USED A cleanser to dissolve the glue from the younger woman’s skin. Ariella had glued her own hand to the poster for W4HAV. “It happens to all of us.”

  Ariella blushed. Her embarrassment was so palpable. Nikkie Jean resisted the urge to hug her and tell her everything would be all right. It was hard not to feel protective of Ariella Avery—soon to be first lady of Texas. The woman was just so…sweet.

  Unlike either of her older brothers that Nikkie Jean knew.

  Neither Rafe Holden-Deane nor Caine Alvaro would ever be described as sweet.

  “I’m not clumsy. Not really. Marc just says I get distracted—that’s when these things happen to me.”

  “I can see where the Gorgeous Governor could be very distracting. In an extremely delicious way.” Marc, or rather Marcus Deane, governor of Texas, adored his fiancée. Nikkie Jean had seen that for herself just a few weeks ago. About the same time Nikkie Jean had found herself naked with Ariella’s older brother.

  Ariella had the same dark eyes and the same smile. Caine’s hair was a shade darker, but not by much. And where he had a seriously nice tan going on, Ariella was as pale as a ghost. But there was no denying that Ariella and Caine were related. Closely.

&
nbsp; It was their personalities that were wildly different.

  She wasn’t going to let herself think about him today. Not today.

  She had other things to think about. Like getting posters for the latest fund-raiser for W4HAV figured out. She had fifteen places in Barrattville and Value to distribute the flyers and posters.

  Posters without human skin cells attached. “You need to watch for an allergic reaction to the glue—or the solvent—but you should be ok.”

  “Thanks. I can’t believe I did this.” The poor woman’s cheeks were tomato red now.

  “I used this same glue last week to glue Allen Jacobson’s shoes to the bottom of his locker. It’s how I know how to dissolve it.” She shot Ariella a wicked look to distract her.

  “I knew that was you!” Lacy shouted from across the room. “Rafe and Allen blamed me.”

  “Sorry, not sorry.”

  “Why did you glue Allen’s shoes?” Ariella asked, sending her a wide-eyed look.

  “I thought he was responsible for the jalapenos on my hamburger. I used to be able to handle peppers of any kind, but for the last few weeks, a seriously no-go on that.”

  “So who did the peppers if it wasn’t this Allen guy?” Bailey, a deputy from the Value TSP, asked from where she was loading a mean looking gun—with staples.

  “Dr. Virat He-is-Evil Patel. And I still owe him for that one.”

  “These are the things that go on in the surgical department?” the final woman in their group asked. Jillian was taking it easy on the nearby couch—she said she was supervising, but Nikkie Jean knew the truth.

  Morning sickness had slammed Jillian with a vengeance over the last week. The redhead had been grouching about Rafe since she’d walked into the charity directly across from the hospital two hours ago. Apparently, he’d been determined to get her pregnant as quickly as he possibly could.

  As Jillian put it—Rafe was an overachiever.

  Jillian had probably enjoyed every minute of him trying.

  It was rare that they all had a day off together—Annie, Fin, and Izzie were on duty at the hospital until six that night—but she had time with Jillian and the others.

  They were serving as good distractions.

  She’d gone nonstop since the night she’d been so stupid. It was easier to block Dr. Caine Alvaro out that way.

  But having his sister there was making that a bit difficult.

  Ariella had the same smile. Not that Caine had smiled at her much. Nikkie Jean could not get that man out of her head. No matter how hard she tried.

  “Nikkie Jean and I are fighting the good fight,” Lacy said, in response to Jillian’s question. “We’re grossly outnumbered in there. Vir, Allen, Cage, and the rest—they don’t let us forget it.”

  The surgical department adored Lacy and had ever since Lacy had almost been killed. Logan Lanning, Allen’s former friend and once an acting chief of surgery, had shot her and her fiancé. If Lacy had been anywhere else, she would have died.

  Rafe had carried her from the roof himself.

  Nikkie Jean still had nightmares about how her friend had looked that night. She’d assisted in that surgery and would never forget how it had felt.

  It had been the first time anyone she’d known personally had ever been on her table. She’d never forget that.

  “Those peppers upset my stomach for two days. Virat deserves whatever revenge I can get.” She still felt a little ill from those peppers when she thought about them even a week later.

  She would have said more, but Ariella’s future stepchildren came barreling into the room. They’d been playing in the children’s rec area in the room behind the multipurpose room.

  “Mommy,” the little boy said, diving at Ariella. “We’re really hungry. Can we go now?”

  Ariella checked her watch. “We probably should. We’re having dinner with my sisters in Garrity in five hours. It’s a bit of a drive, and I promised the kids we’d stop in Value to eat at the diner.”

  “I’d go with you guys,” Lacy said. “But I’m expected across the road for a while.”

  “Me, as well,” Jillian said with an audible groan. She was green—and it was clashing with her hair. Nikkie Jean felt for Jillian—nausea sucked. Big time. She’d had enough of that feeling when she’d been sixteen.

  She was feeling a bit sick now—those peppers should not have made their way back into the conversation.

  “I got lucky,” Nikkie Jean said. “I’m not needed for once.”

  “Then you can join us?” Ariella asked quietly. “You and Bailey?”

  “I can’t. I’m expected at the station soon,” Bailey said, genuine regret in her tone. She’d recently returned to work, and it wasn’t going well. She and the sheriff were having difficulties getting along.

  Nikkie Jean made a mental note to talk to the other woman privately when she got a shot. She was Bailey’s unofficial sponsor at W4HAV now, after all.

  “Dr. Nik! Dr. Nik! You can sit with me,” the little girl said. Katie took Nikkie Jean’s hand in her own. After the little girl’s abduction and rescue almost two months ago, Nikkie Jean had been the one to give the girl emergency care. She’d made sure personally that Katie had not been harmed more than a mild sunburn.

  It was the emotional scars that had concerned her the most that day. She’d sat and rocked the child for over an hour, just giving her the emotional connection to someone the child had needed, until Lacy’s husband had taken over for her. He’d been upstairs helping keep his older brother from fracturing at the thought of losing Ariella. Nikkie Jean had helped out where she could. “I’d like that very much.”

  Ariella might be Caine’s biological family, but she had been Nikkie Jean’s friend first. And she needed friends today.

  They’d mutinied. Caine had had no choice; even the baby was following his older siblings’ leads. They hadn’t wanted to go to the city to shop for school clothes and groceries. They wanted to go to the Value Reservoir to play and swim and just be children.

  Basically, they’d just wanted him. They’d exhausted him long before lunch. His only recourse was to suggest a movie. There was bound to be one that the older two would sit through—that would have other toddlers in the theater, and Dalton’s fussing and fits would blend right in.

  There were some days he felt more than a little overwhelmed. This was definitely one of them. They were far too much for his uncle to handle alone; he’d have to get Henry help again. The older man was showing signs of the strain.

  He’d be asking around at the diner for recommendations for a housekeeper to help Henry, at least through the remainder of the summer. If he couldn’t find a housekeeper, there was always the hope there would be someone he trusted to watch the kids while he worked. It was summertime. There had to be a responsible teenager somewhere in this town.

  The diner was packed when they walked in, with teenagers in baseball uniforms everywhere. He shifted Dalton closer when he squirmed. Dalton didn’t understand why he had to be carried when his brother got to walk. There was one booth left, in the back. He waved the children toward it.

  Just as the door opened behind him and a little whirlwind blew in. Caine just knew who it was almost before he turned.

  He jerked like a damned magnet the instant he heard her laugh. He hadn’t seen her in almost seven weeks. Not since the night he’d left her naked in her bed.

  She’d haunted his dreams every night since.

  She was facing away from him; he doubted she’d seen him yet. But he recognized her instantly. Her laugh, her scent—they were imprinted on him.

  He’d regretted what had happened between them from the moment he’d stepped out of her bedroom and left her there. Not because he wished it hadn’t happened, but because of how he had handled it after. He should have held and kissed her and promised that what had happened that night was just the beginning for them.

  He should have known he wouldn’t be able to forget what had happened between them.


  He knew himself well enough to know that. Relationships with women had never been casual for him. Not from that first girl when he’d been sixteen.

  He’d not touched her until he thought he’d loved her.

  His uncle had taught him early on that romantic relationships required respect, caring…and trust. Caine had never trusted people easily.

  April had just pounded that fact into his head.

  Every muscle in his body tensed. This was not the place he had envisioned seeing her again. Far from it.

  There was a dark-haired woman coming up behind her. He heard the other woman laugh at whatever Nikkie Jean had said.

  And then he looked at that woman. Fully.

  Big, dark-brown eyes stared back at him—and widened.

  Caine bit back a curse.

  He knew exactly who she was. She’d been all over the news with the governor for weeks.

  He didn’t know which woman bothered him the most. His stomach tightened when Nikkie Jean stopped walking and faced him.

  Nikkie Jean. Definitely Nikkie Jean. He could ignore the sister he’d never met, but Nikkie Jean was a completely different story. He would never be able to ignore Nikkie Jean Netorre again.

  “Nikkie Jean, not working today?” He’d never seen her in anything other than scrubs. Or naked. Today she wore an apple-green T-shirt with W4HAV printed across her breasts. And jeans that hugged every perfect little curve.

  Small but absolutely perfect. He knew exactly how perfect.

  “It’s my one day off this year. Hello…Dr. Alvaro.”

  Her eyes were carefully blank when she looked at him. Nonchalant. As if he hadn’t had her naked beneath him. As if he was no more than a work colleague or neighbor. He waited for the chatter to start.

  It didn’t.

  She finally looked at him again. “Well, this is awkward, isn’t it?”

  She had the dark-haired little boy by the hand. Like she knew him. He recognized the children, of course. Technically, he supposed they were his future step-nephew and niece.

  The woman behind them was his sister. His younger sister, who was soon to marry the governor of Texas. She was the first of his so-called siblings he’d seen face-to-face.