by Janice Lynn
“The band is awesome, isn’t it?”
Again, she nodded. She didn’t really follow any particular band, but did enjoy singing along with the radio from time to time. The band playing really was good.
When the group on the main stage finished, Jack turned to her. “You want to stay here until the next band, move to a different stage, or go find something to eat?”
Her stomach growled. “Eat?”
He packed up the blanket they’d been sitting on into a backpack that he slung over his right shoulder. “What are you hungry for?”
“What are my options?”
“Anything from burgers to a meat and three. There seems to be vendors who offer just about anything you can think of. Why don’t we walk around for a while and see if anything catches your eye?”
“Or my nose,” she added, taking a sniff of the air. Something sure smelled good.
He laughed. “Or that.”
They ended up getting bowls of jambalaya from a Cajun food booth and standing at one of the chest-high tables set up near the row of vendors.
“This is good,” she enthused, hoping she didn’t have food on her face or between her teeth.
He’d already finished his. “Yep.”
Feeling self-conscious under his watchful eye, she asked, “Are there any particular bands you’re hoping to catch tonight?”
He named one she’d heard of but couldn’t recall the names of any of their songs. Sadly, she felt as if she’d been living under a rock since graduation. Before that, even.
She had been. She’d gone from toeing the line for her strict parents to toeing the line for Neil. She’d spent the last year learning to make decisions for herself, learning she didn’t need to have anyone’s directions or approval for the choices she made. If she messed up, so what? It was her life to live.
“That okay with you?”
She nodded. “Sounds good.”
“If there are any particular shows you want to see, speak up and we’ll go. I’m game for whatever.”
“Duly noted.” Game for whatever. He had no clue as to what ran through her mind at his innocent comment.
Or maybe, with the way his eyes danced, his comment hadn’t been so innocent.
“How is it you’ve never been to a music festival?” He leaned across the table to stare into her eyes and, again, she wondered if perhaps he’d read her mind and knew more than she thought.
She shrugged. “Just not that lucky, I guess.”
“I’m glad you’re at this one.”
“Me, too.”
His grin shined brighter than the sparkly dance ball a few hundred yards away and Taylor really was glad she’d agreed to work the festival, that she’d gotten away from Louisville, and that she’d met Jack.
Because she was in charge of her life now, was making changes, reaching for new adventures, taking chances, had given herself permission to make mistakes as long as they were mistakes she’d chosen to make.
Her gaze connected with Jack’s, her heart speeding up as she wondered if she’d choose Jack as her next new adventure. If she could give herself permission to take a chance that he’d be her next mistake.
Because becoming involved with a man, any man, would be a mistake.
Becoming involved with Jack would be a big one. Colossal.
* * *
Taylor didn’t sleep well that night. Not that her bed wasn’t semi-comfortable. It had been. The night air wasn’t nearly as sticky and hot as she’d expected either. The temperature had almost been cool.
What had kept her awake had been the noises around the festival. Obviously, she and Jack had been the only people in the entire place who had wanted to sleep. Then again, there weren’t that many inside the event grounds who would be getting up at four a.m. to go to “work” either.
Donning a pair of khaki shorts and a T-shirt, she pulled her hair up into a ponytail, then slipped out of her tent.
Her gaze immediately went to Jack’s tent. In the dim moonlight and lights coming from the festival, she could see he was up. He gave a little wave.
Taylor’s stomach grumbled. Whatever Jack had going on his portable stove smelled a lot more mouth-watering than the breakfast bar with which she had planned to start her day.
“I made extra,” he told her in a low whisper.
Although there was noise coming from beyond the other side of the main medical tent, the medical staff camping area itself was relatively quiet other than crickets chirping and the early morning crew slowly making their way out of their tents.
“Thanks,” she mouthed, taking the plate. “Hey, this is good.”
He grinned. “Did you think it would taste bad?”
She shook her head. “Smelled too good for that. Just wasn’t expecting it to be amazing.”
They finished up, cleaned up their mess, then headed to the main medical tent. When they got inside, they checked in, were given that day’s mandatory medical staff T-shirt and would change each day. Guys changed T-shirts in the main area. Taylor fought—and lost—to keep her eyes from soaking up the rippling of Jack’s muscles. As he pulled his T-shirt down over his six-pack, his gaze met hers and he grinned, as if he knew she’d been watching him and had liked what she’d seen.
“I, uh, need to put this on,” she mumbled, turning to go to one of several enclosed areas in the tent where any private examinations would take place inside the main medical tent. She quickly stripped off her T-shirt and replaced it with the designated one.
She crammed her removed shirt into the backpack she’d brought with her and returned to where the others were waiting for a staff member to drive them to the medical tent.
When they arrived, Jack reached up to take Taylor’s hand to assist her off the golf cart. It might have been before the crack of dawn, but that didn’t stop the zings that shot up Taylor’s arm at holding his hand. Zings shot and her heart kaboomed.
“Thank you,” she murmured, cramming her fingers in her pocket the moment he let go. How was it possible to go from completely dead inside to so very aware? Had her body just saved years’ worth of sexual nothingness and was unleashing it all at once?
And why, why, why, why couldn’t he have been anything other than a doctor? To give in to Jack’s smile would mean ignoring not only her man aversion but also her decision that never ever would she get involved with another doctor.
At the medical tent they switched with the night shift and took over the few cases currently being treated. Taylor reviewed a case of possible food poisoning and an intoxication patient. As the sun came up and the hours passed, the temperature soared. A steady trickle of people came in with various complaints.
Two young girls came into the tent. One asked for a bandage for her leg as she’d tripped and skinned her knee.
Taylor started to register the girl and do minor wound care, but Duffy waved her off. “I’ve got this one.”
While Duffy was cleaning the girl’s grazed leg, another two young women came in. One was almost completely supporting the other.
“She started passing out but never completely did, but she’s talking out of her head, like she did something, you know, but she didn’t do anything,” the patient’s friend gushed, not pausing for breath as Taylor helped them over to a vacant cot.
“I was flipping out,” the woman continued. “I wasn’t sure she was going to make it here and then what was I going to do?”
“I’m just really hot,” the barely coherent patient said, her hand on her temple. “And my head hurts.”
“Name?”
“Cindy Frazier,” the friend answered. “We’re nineteen. I’m Lori. We’re from Maine.”
Maine? That was a long way to travel for a music festival, Taylor thought as she got Cindy registered.
Taylor ran a thermometer over her forehead.
&
nbsp; Eek. One hundred and five degrees Fahrenheit.
She glanced around to see who was free and could grab an ice pack. Everyone was with someone except Jack.
“Dr. Morgan?”
Odd to call him that when in her head he was Jack. He glanced up from his clipboard, his blue gaze meeting hers.
“I have a hyperthermia case. Temp is one-oh-five. Can you grab an ice pack and ice water, please, while I finish checking vitals?” She supposed she should have offered to get them and let him take over with the patient, but Jack didn’t balk, just rushed to get the needed supplies.
Cindy moaned and clutched at her stomach.
“Are you feeling nauseous?”
Eyes squished closed, she nodded. “I may throw up.”
Jack stepped up, handed Taylor the items she’d requested. “I’ll get an emesis pan and anti-emetic.”
Taylor wrapped the ice pack collar around the girl’s neck.
“That’s cold!” she complained, shivering.
“We have to cool you down. You got too hot and you’re dehydrated, that’s why you’re feeling so bad.”
Jack was back, and handed the plastic pan to the girl. He bent to shine a penlight into Cindy’s eyes, then her nose and mouth. He listened to her heart and lung sounds.
“She’s tachycardic.”
Taylor opened the bottle top then handed the girl the iced water. “I want you to get as much fluid in you as you can.”
“I’ll throw it up.”
“Maybe not, but if you do, use the pan if you can. Just drink.” She glanced at Jack. “You okay with me starting the cold IV fluid and putting the anti-emetic in?”
“You took the words out of my mouth.”
She checked the girl’s veins and frowned. Dehydrated, Cindy’s veins were poor at best. Still, Taylor had always prided herself on being good at accessing veins and hopefully would hit her mark the first try, despite not having much to work with.
Gathering her supplies, Taylor then cleaned her IV site with an alcohol pad while Jack finished examining Cindy, including rechecking her temperature.
“Still one-oh-five.”
“Is that bad?” Lori asked, wringing her hands as she watched them work on her friend.
“It hasn’t gone up, so that’s a good thing,” Taylor assured her, breathing a sigh of relief when the IV catheter slid into Cindy’s vein perfectly. “Once we get these cold fluids in, her temp should drop.”
If not, they’d put her in the ice tub.
“I feel like I can’t breathe,” Cindy gasped, putting her hand to her chest.
“It’s going to be okay, Cindy.” Jack sounded calm as he continued to assess the girl, watching her closely. “Just take slow, deep breaths.”
Cindy visibly took a deep breath.
As Taylor taped the IV line to Cindy’s left hand, she fought breathing deeply herself as Jack’s voice was so hypnotic.
“Your temperature will start dropping any minute,” Jack assured their patient. “Once that happens, you’ll slowly start feeling better.”
Jack’s soothing voice made Taylor feel better as she grabbed the anti-emetic to go into the IV. Lots better. How could he be so calm when the girl’s situation really could turn dire if what they were doing didn’t work?
“I’m scared,” Cindy admitted, bursting into tears, which caused her friend to also burst into tears.
“Look at me, Cindy.”
The young woman lifted her tearful gaze to Jack’s. He took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re doing all the right things to get your temperature down and we’ll keep you here until you’re feeling okay. You’re going to be fine.”
“Phew,” Lori sighed in relief, sniffling as she plopped down onto an empty cot next to Cindy’s. “She’s not the only one who’s scared. I’ve heard about people dying at music events but never thought about it possibly happening to someone I knew. She had me terrified when she started blacking out.”
Taylor leaned forward to inject the medication, but before she could administer it, Cindy’s body tensed. Taylor grabbed for the emesis pan, but lightning fast Jack had it to the woman’s mouth, making it just in time.
“Oh, no,” her friend groaned as Cindy heaved her stomach contents into the pan. “This is bad. I know it is.”
“It’s not uncommon for someone with hyperthermia to throw up.” Taylor injected the anti-emetic into the IV solution. “The nausea should calm down soon, too.”
Fortunately, it did.
Due to the degree of Cindy’s hyperthermia, Taylor stayed with her, closely monitoring her vitals over the next thirty minutes.
Jack came and went as he checked other patients who’d come in for care. Most were minor issues, thank goodness.
As Taylor checked Cindy’s temperature yet again, Jack walked up behind her.
“What is her temp now?”
“Ninety-nine.”
“That’s awesome,” Jack praised, placing his hand on Taylor’s shoulder. “Almost back to normal.”
Relieved at how Cindy was responding to their treatment and wondering at how her own temperature had just spiked at Jack’s innocent touch, Taylor nodded.
He gave her shoulder a squeeze before his hand fell away.
Gracious. Had he felt it, too? The sparks that flew when they touched? Or was she just crazy and imagining things in the midst of patient care?
Cindy finished off her water.
Reaching to take the bottle, Taylor gave a thumbs-up. “Want another?”
Although her color and disposition had greatly improved, the girl still looked weak. “Will it help me get back to normal quicker?”
“You may not feel yourself for a few days but, yes, hydrating well is vital,” Jack answered, then listened to Cindy’s chest again. When he removed his stethoscope from his ears, he grinned. “Heart rate is down to eighty-eight.”
“Is that good?” Lori asked. To give the girl credit, she’d stayed by her friend’s side, encouraging her to drink more water and holding her hand during the times Cindy got overly emotional.
Taylor chatted with Cindy for a few minutes, then left her to rest on the cot with Lori watching over her so she could help with other patients now that Cindy was stable.
“Great job there,” Jack praised when she joined him at a triage table, where he was attending to a new patient.
“Thanks. I’ll take this one from here so you can check on the other patients,” she offered, knowing the tent was hopping with patients who probably needed his attention.
Their gazes met. Taylor’s belly flip-flopped.
Jack rose from where he sat. “Thanks.”
The new patient looked worn out, hot and couldn’t give any specific symptoms, just that she felt exhausted. Taylor took her information, checked her vitals—all of which were normal—then put her on a cot and went to get her water.
When she got back, the girl was sound asleep.
“Well, okay, then,” she said, picking up the clipboard with the girl’s information and making a note.
“We’ll have some who do that.” Jack walked up beside her to watch the girl sleep. “They’ll come to medical just to take a break from the hyper-stimulation and to cool down.”
“It’s a whole different world from anything I’ve ever known,” Taylor admitted.
“Just wait until we watch the shows tonight. Last night will seem tame.”
She shot a curious look his way. He planned on them going to watch the shows together again?
“The costumes, the people, the vibe in the air.” His excitement came through, creating its own vibe. “Tonight people will have found their bearings and will be more relaxed. There will be more booze, drugs, sex, more everything.”
More. Her cheeks heated. “Oh.”
&n
bsp; “No worries. Most are here to have a good time. We’re here to make sure they do it without any lasting problems.”
His grin was so infectious Taylor’s breath caught.
Apparently, it didn’t matter that Jack was a doctor and she’d sworn the profession and men off forever.
Now that her body had remembered it was young, healthy, full of hormones, it refused to be ignored.
Not only refused to be ignored but demanded attention. Jack’s attention.
Why not? an inner voice asked. It wasn’t as if anything that happened this week would go beyond the music festival.
Maybe she could—should—forget an outside world existed and just go with the flow. Wasn’t that what she was trying to do? Step outside her comfort zone?
Jack Morgan was way outside her comfort zone and would be one humdinger of a life experience.
CHAPTER THREE
BATHING HAD NEVER felt so good.
Taylor had had to wait in line over half an hour to get into the shower, but the wait had been worth it. To have washed the dust from her hair and put on clean clothes felt amazing.
When she went back to the medical camping ground, Jack, Duffy, Robert and a few others were playing guitars in front of Jack’s tent. Duffy was singing a country song about wild women and drinking too much.
Taylor grabbed her chair and joined the group. Listening to their song, she brushed out her hair, then braided it into a French braid, twisting a band around the end. When she’d finished, her gaze collided with Jack’s.
He’d been watching her. With more than casual interest.
Then again, there was nothing casual about the sparks that had flown between them all day.
He winked and, heart kerthunking, she winked back.
Something she’d never done. Her ex hadn’t been the kind of man one winked at. Neil hadn’t been playful or fun. Ever.
Jack was playful and fun.
At some point he’d gotten a shower, too. He looked refreshed in his navy shorts and T-shirt while he plucked the strings of a rather beat-up, well-loved-appearing guitar, keeping perfect tune with the others.
Having no musical talent, Taylor was impressed.
