76
DR. JACOBSON WAS A real jerk when he had his mind made up about something. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t like she was going anywhere anyway.
Not with Annie and Nikkie Jean still there. They’d both woken a few hours ago, but it was obvious they were hurting.
And scared.
Especially Nikkie Jean. She kept saying she had to get away. And looking for a dragon.
Izzie feared she was having nightmares about what had happened to her years ago.
No one knew if Nikkie Jean’s house was still standing, but she and the baby were going to be ok. Annie had woken frantic, worried over her foster sons.
Izzie had already thought about that and had had one of the orderlies who had been injured but still stayed around to help track down Annie’s sister. Izzie would have done it herself, but she hadn’t had the time. The boys and Josie were fine, thankfully.
She grabbed some spare scrubs and headed back toward 403. She was going to take a shower, then clock in. See if she could do some good around the place. It was still an all-hands-on-deck callout right now.
She rounded the corner and passed Cherise and Hannah, the nursing supervisors who’d basically glued themselves to the hospital since the tornado hit.
Hannah’s arm was in a sling, but she was still game. Her three-year-old daughter was down in the basement day care.
Their people pulled together in times of crises. They always would.
He was there, too.
Izzie would just ignore Allen Jacobson as long as she could. To think she’d actually thought the guy had become a nicer person since everything had happened. Wrong. He was even more of a dictator than he had been before.
They’d cut off all travel to Finley Creek unless it was vitally necessary. No one was getting in or out without permission. Not until this passed. She’d have to stay where she was, anyway.
The doors to the ward burst opened.
A pirate wearing biker leather and a gold earring walked in. One with massive shoulders and an attitude of “get out of my way” around him.
Everyone just kind of paused for a moment. Izzie stared, even though she’d seen him a few times before. Some men were just like that.
It was the way he carried himself. No one was standing in his way. She doubted even Allen Jacobson could stop him.
Maybe Rafe could. But that would be one even match to watch.
Dr. Alvaro had a bandage over one eye, and the hair was a total mess. It suited him. He was definitely a wilder version of his twin; that was for sure.
But dear gravy, he was hot.
No wonder Nikkie Jean had lost all reason when he’d looked at her.
Everyone just stared at him.
“Can I help you?” Cherise asked.
“Dr. Alvaro,” Izzie said, stepping forward. She strongly suspected she knew exactly who he was looking for. “About time you showed up.”
“Rafe just managed to get a call through to my hospital. I’ve come for Nikkie Jean.”
Of course he had.
“She…”
“Room 403?” He barely looked at anyone other than Izzie. He was far more intense than his brother. Izzie never would have thought that was possible.
But, wow, to have a man like that come for her…would be absolutely amazing. If Izzie was in to that kind of cheesy-romance thing.
If he just wasn’t a doctor. Or so forceful and masculine and dominating…yeah, Izzie knew her own limits.
But no wonder this guy had gotten through Nikkie Jean’s defenses.
Someone walked up behind her and put a hot hand on her shoulder. She yelped like a wimp.
“Izzie, I don’t think you’ve been discharged yet. I know I haven’t signed off on it.”
No. Technically she hadn’t been. But Izzie had been making her own decisions for a long time.
And now he had her hostage.
She thought about squirming beneath his hold, but Izzie wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction. The jerk should have other people to worry about besides her.
So what if they’d ridden out a tornado wrapped up in each other’s arms? That had been coincidence. It didn’t give him extra rights to control her or anything. The man needed to just leave her be.
She looked up over her shoulder into gray eyes. Allen Jacobson was tall. A few inches shorter than Dr. Alvaro, but still quite a bit taller than Izzie. Broad shouldered, and strong. Rugged good looks that he just didn’t deserve.
It made her feel a little too vulnerable stuck there between the two ridiculously large, beautiful men. Beautiful, dominant, not-take-no-for-an-answer, used-to-getting-their-way men. “Stuff it, Jacobson, I’m just grabbing clean scrubs so I can take a shower before I’m paroled.”
“Nikkie Jean?” Alvaro demanded again. “Which way is 403?”
“She’s in here,” Jacobson said. “We’ve had to put three to a room. Izzie went AWOL.”
“And Annie is still sleeping. So don’t wake her up.” Izzie trailed after the two tall men, after shrugging at Cherise and Hannah, who were both making wide eyes at the back of Holden-Deane’s twin when they should have been reorganizing the temporary ER intake desk.
No surprise. It wasn’t exactly common knowledge around the hospital that the man even existed. Yet there he was—shouting to all that could hear his words that he was Nikkie Jean’s lover.
And he had come for her.
There was no way Izzie was going to miss this. If Nikkie Jean woke and didn’t want him there, Izzie was ready to call Vince and have him removed.
No matter what the consequences were. But somehow she didn’t see that happening.
Because Nikkie Jean had been asking where Caine was in her sleep, too.
As if she expected him to be there somewhere.
Now he finally was.
77
“JUST TELL ME HOW she’s doing.” Caine stepped closer to the bed. One small hand was wrapped in plaster. It was the same one he’d sewn up the first time he’d met her. The other had tubes taped in place. There was a bruise over her left eye. Near the scar. “Her glasses and contacts?”
She’d wake nearly blind. In a hospital room. Afraid. Worried for the baby.
“Lost the glasses in the storm. We haven’t been able to get out to her house yet. To see if it’s still standing,” Izzie said.
“It most likely isn’t,” Caine said harshly. She’d lost them in the storm. And hadn’t been able to see clearly without them. Just how vulnerable Nikkie Jean was slammed into him. Again. “It was right in the path. Mine took some damage. I barely got the children inside in time. The storm headed toward her place next.” His voice broke. He’d known the storm had been headed right toward where he’d thought she’d been. Either her house or the highway. Her hospital.
She hadn’t stood a chance; and he’d known it.
Just how much she’d meant to him had been as clear as the lightning flashing through the small ground-level windows near where he’d huddled with his children and uncle. And prayed.
“I’m sorry.”
“Nikkie Jean’s place is three miles down the road from mine. The storm hit my place first.” And the radio and news said it had only gathered steam before hitting Finley Creek next.
Her hair had been washed and braided. She had in My Little Pony ribbons. Who had done that? She had an oxygen tube in her nose. He checked the monitors. Her stats were right where they should be.
He could have lost her. Lost the baby. Before he had even had them.
“She’s mostly just resting, Dr. Alvaro,” Jacobson said. “And we’re watching for bacterial infection or pneumonia. She had quite a bit of water in her lungs that concerned us for a while. She’d been knocked out and landed in a puddle. But she should make a full recovery.”
“Our baby? That’ll be the first thing she asks about when she wakes. I need to know what to tell her. If I need to…prepare…”
“The baby is fine,” her friend said. This time there
was compassion in her words. “I stayed up most of the night next to her. We checked the Doppler twice. At first, the heart rate was a bit sluggish. The second time everything sounded fine. Not a single blip on her monitor. This is Nikkie Jean’s kid. You think it’s not already stubborn enough to stand up to a tornado?”
He was barely aware of what was said between the two after that. He just stared at Nikkie Jean for the longest time.
Caine wasn’t going anywhere. Everett, Keller, and Dalton were safe at the house right now, with his uncle. He’d get someone out to cover the windows on the house as soon as he could. But his number one priority at the moment was the woman still sleeping in the bed he sat by. His number two priority was their child.
He slipped one hand over her stomach. It was the first time he’d ever felt the proof of what his child was doing to Nikkie Jean’s body. She’d only just begun to show at all.
Emotion built up in his throat, making it hard to breathe for a moment.
Her eyes flicked open, and she shifted.
Whimpered, in a way destined to destroy him. “Nikkie Jean, sweetheart. It’s ok. Everything’s ok.”
“I…Rafe? I can’t see you. Where’s Jillian? I’m supposed to meet her in fifteen minutes. Balloons…” And then she went back under again.
She came back out of it twenty-five minutes later. This time her eyes were clearer when she looked at him. But she was looking past him a bit, with unfocused eyes. “I need my glasses.”
“They have your contacts in solution in the drawer. But your glasses were lost in the storm.” He brushed his hand down the arm with the IV tube stuck in it.
“Caine. I know your touch.” She turned toward him. “I was wondering when you’d get here.”
When. Not if.
“Yes. Caine.” Always Caine. And from this moment on he would be doing his damnedest to be there when she needed him. No matter what. “Damn, Nikkie Jean, you scared me again.”
“You…sorry. I don’t remember what’s happened. I was…working. Then…I’m here. A car… Did I get sick again?”
“Do you remember the storm?” Traumatic head injuries could bring memory loss; he knew that well enough. And where she’d been found…there had been concrete and debris near her. Jacobson had said another physician from County had told him.
She’d been found and rescued by a stranger.
The debt he owed that man would never be forgotten.
78
WHEN SHE OPENED HER eyes, all she saw was a blur. She assumed that blur was Caine. She had heard him before she’d opened her eyes. It was either him or Rafe, and there was a dark-green shadow on the arm resting next to the rail. And she knew…
“Caine?”
“I’m here, sweetheart. You’re in the hospital.”
“What’s going on? Why am I here?” Fear for the baby shot through her and her hand shifted to her abdomen.
“Do you remember the storm?”
“No.” She couldn’t remember much of anything. Just walking across the parking lot. In the rain. She thought she had talked to someone…after that. Nothing, except someone with strong arms carrying her. Someone not Caine, but who had promised to keep her safe. “How badly am I hurt?”
“Mild concussion. Contusions. Abrasions. Superficial cuts. You were unconscious when a Dr. DeTerro from County found you. He brought you here. You’ve got a hairline fracture in your wrist. But it’s a minor break and should heal within the month. You’ve wrenched your knee again. Some bruised ribs. And bruising on your neck.”
“How long was I out? The baby?” She fought the panic as someone moved nearer. Without her glasses on, Nikkie Jean couldn’t tell who it was. Until she saw the bright-red hair. And the green scrubs. “Our baby?”
“The baby is fine, sweetheart. Jillian’s going to take you down to radiology for another ultrasound in a few minutes. Just to make sure everything still looks good now that it’s been more than twelve hours since the last one.” Caine’s hand covered her stomach. “They’ve started a betting pool to see whether our baby or Jillian’s is bigger. I think she just wants to see if we’re winning or they are.”
She would know his touch anywhere. But she needed to see his eyes, to make sure he wasn’t lying to her.
“I wish I could see you.”
“We’ve got someone searching for your prescription. We’ll get you something soon,” Caine said.
“I have spare glasses in my locker. Surgical break room.”
“That solves that problem,” Jillian said. “We’ll get Allen or Virat to grab them. You’ll just need to provide the combination.”
“Not locked. We never lock the lockers in there. No need.” She closed her eyes. It was easier to do that than deal with the blur. “When can I go home?”
“Sweetheart, I don’t know when they’ll be releasing you. A tornado hit while you were out in the parking lot, and the streets aren’t open right now. We’re stuck here in Finley Creek for a while. But I’m staying right here with you. And your guard dogs are both here.” There was a hesitation in his words she couldn’t interpret yet.
“The kids? They ok?” If they weren’t, there was no way he’d be with her. Nikkie Jean knew that instinctively. But he needed to be with them. Not her. But she needed to know they were ok.
“It frightened them. We were on the road when it hit, but they are ok now. I had to put stitches in Everett’s arm, but he is fine. Says he’s going to tell everyone a bad guy did it. My place took some damage, but it’s still standing and habitable.” He leaned closer. She felt him brush his lips over her forehead. “I could have lost you, Nikkie Jean. It’s never going to happen again. You and Jelly Bean are coming home with me. We’ll figure everything else out together.”
She wanted to say more but was just too tired to form the words. They’d given her something, despite the risks to the baby. She didn’t want that. Not again. She forced her eyes open and tried to look at him. “No more sedatives. Not for the baby. No matter the risk. Understand?”
“Understood. You just rest. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Make sure the baby is safe, Caine. Promise me. You’re the father. You tell them for me. No meds. We don’t want any drugs, not for our baby.”
“I promise. Nothing will hurt our baby.” His fingers spread over where their child rested. “I’m watching the monitors, too, sweetheart. Everything looks fine. I will take care of you. I promise.”
Of course, he would. He was Caine; there probably wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. Nikkie Jean let herself float into the ether, at peace knowing Caine was there to make sure everything with the baby was going to be all right.
79
WHEN SHE OPENED her eyes the final time, Nikkie Jean could focus on the world around her. Well, as much as she could without her contacts and no glasses. She tried to sit up in the bed.
Pregnant women had to pee frequently. She was definitely no exception. There were no wires hooked up to her, except the ones she would have expected. So no more peeing through a tube, at least. Someone was next to her bed. From the size, coloring, and green blob on one arm, she had a good inkling who it was. “Caine? What are you still doing here? You should be home with the kids—or off running Barratt County.”
“Waiting for Sleeping Beauty to wake up. I was about ready to try the kissing thing. My daughter assures me a kiss from the prince works every time. At least, she did when I talked to her an hour ago and told her you were still sleeping. I’m supposed to kiss you so you will wake up. I thought that sounded like a good idea.”
“You are no princess, and the last thing I am is a prince.” She paused a minute as what she’d said sank in. “Wait a minute. Reverse that. My brain is like scrambled eggs right now. The baby?”
“Fine. Jillian’s been checking with Doppler. Everything sounds fine. She’s coming back on her lunch break to try again. She’s determined. Apparently, Jelly Bean and her baby—which Jacobson has named the Kidney Bean—are going to grow up t
ogether as lifelong friends, best cousins, and pseudo twins.”
Tears hit her eyes. “I’d like that.”
“None of that.” He placed a tissue in her hand. “I have glasses right here.” Those followed the tissue. She slipped them on, and he came into focus. That’s when she realized where she was again fully.
“I’m not sure how I got here, but I’m tired of waking up in this room. I am starting to think it really is cursed.”
He hesitated.
“The baby is ok?”
“The baby is ok. But it’s you we were worried about. What do you remember?”
Before she could answer, someone knocked. Jillian poked her head in. “Good, you’re awake. We need to talk. And…I brought this.”
Jillian had a Doppler in her hand. “Lacy and Layla and I were talking…about genetics. Lacy has the theory that since my baby is apparently bigger than average for some strange reason—” Jillian shot the man behind her a look. “There’s a chance yours might be as well. Layla wants to take you to Courtney and get a pretty picture again. I’m not sure why, probably just for science. I think we’re the hospital experiments here.”
Caine laced his fingers with hers. “Dalton was almost an eight-pound baby at thirty-three and a half weeks. The twins were each over seven pounds. Everett was closer to eight, at thirty-seven weeks.”
“Big for twins,” Jillian said quietly.
“Do either of you know how much you weighed at birth?” Nikkie Jean asked. Both men stiffened. Ok. She’d found a powder keg there.
“I have our original birth records,” Caine said. “We were both over six pounds. I was closer to seven. Maybe. It could have been reversed. We were baby A and B on the original records.”
“I’d like to see them some time,” Rafe said.
Caine leaned forward. “The birth certificates list us as Caine and Abel. Clever, weren’t they? Our birth parents weren’t exactly parents of the year, Nikkie Jean. I’ll tell you the story sometime later.”
Lost in the Wind Page 28
