“Yes, but I feel ridiculous. And you don’t need to be pushing me around right now. You’re as green as your scrubs.” Jillian looked horrible—no use beating around the bush. “You doing ok today?”
“Morning sickness is not fun—especially at five in the afternoon. I swear, I need to avoid the jalapenos. Nik and I split nachos at lunch. Cafeteria nachos. I knew they weren’t a good idea, but they looked so good.”
“How’s Nikkie Jean?” Annie was looking for that woman specifically. First, to check on Nikkie Jean.
She felt a rush of sympathy for the woman. Carrying her boss’s long-lost identical twin’s baby was something out of a badly written soap opera. Nikkie Jean was never going to be able to escape the hospital gossip. Or the eyes watching every move she made. Second, she owed Nikkie Jean a big thanks for what she’d done for the boys. “I was hoping to see her today.”
“She’s across the road with Izzie. They’re gathering more flyers with the revised dates for the choir concert. Then Izzie will be meeting you in front of the building to drive you wherever she decides to take you. You are in her hands. Scary. That woman behind the wheel is terrifying. Well, both Izzie and Nikkie Jean are. I am never riding with either one of them again.”
Which said a lot. Jillian was a rather terrifying driver herself.
“She’s doing ok? I haven’t seen her in a few days.” Nikkie Jean and Jillian were due within a week of each other. Nikkie Jean and Jillian were sharing almost every detail of their pregnancies with each other.
“She’s ok. Bouncing and bubbling everywhere. Thank God.”
Annie smiled at the description. Nikkie Jean had survived some seriously bad odds as a teenager, and while she freely admitted she still suffered the effects of the trauma—and always would—she had a joy of life that couldn’t be replicated by anyone. The past few months had been especially hard for Nikkie Jean, culminating in an unplanned but extremely welcome pregnancy with a wonderful man who thought the sun rose and set in Nikkie Jean.
“I would love to go over there and help.” She’d spent ten days lying in the hospital bed, feeling completely useless. She couldn’t handle it any longer.
Annie was used to doing.
First order of business—find her three little boys.
She’d missed them so much she could barely breathe from the pain. Jillian’s sister Mel and some of her minions had brought the boys to the hospital for a visit five times. Those times had just not been enough.
Annie missed her babies. Her family.
It was time to go home, figure out where they were going to live, and move on. Her house didn’t matter; where she raised the boys wasn’t as important as the four of them being together. She’d had a lot to think about in ten days stuck in the hospital. To reflect on what was truly important.
Her children, her sister, her friends. Not her house.
She’d do what she could to help her neighbors, though. Because they were important to her, too.
She had to get through the adoption process, get her children into a safe home where they could grow up and be healthy, and move on.
Put the storm behind her.
The boys would be hers as soon as the final hearing was over. As soon as the judge’s signature was dry on the paperwork, everything she’d been working toward for almost two years would be accomplished.
They just had to get through the next little while. It should be smooth sailing after that.
She’d lived for this for twenty-one months, since the moment the social worker had brought three frightened and grieving little boys to their home and placed the baby in Annie’s arms. They were her sons, and there was nothing she wouldn’t do to protect them.
It was time to be Mommy again, now. There was nothing more she wanted to be doing. “I need to get to the boys.”
“You need to take it easy. Mel is willing to help. Take advantage of the offer.”
“I don’t want to take advantage of your sister.” On that, Annie was firm. She had learned from the age of five how to stand on her own two feet, when her mother had put her on the wrong school bus and sent her on her way—because she’d been too drunk to pay attention. Life lessons were hard to unlearn.
Annie took care of Annie—and her children. She also took care of Izzie and Nikkie Jean when they would let her, or they needed it. And Josie. Caring for others was something Annie was good at. She was making a career out of it, after all.
“She already said she’s going to use it as volunteer work on her college application. Though with her grades and no need for financial aid, I’m not sure what the hold up for her admission is.” Jillian sighed. “Houghton practically built two of the residence halls last year. And the big doofus has already set up a full college fund for Syd. It should just be a matter of her signing up for classes.”
“That was nice of him.”
“Not to hear Syd’s reaction. She appreciated it, but Mel is the kept woman, not her. Syd’s getting a bit snippy lately. She’s…adjusting…to everything that happened to us over the past two years, and all of the changes we live with now.”
“She hates the guards, doesn’t she?” Annie asked, quietly. “The loss of control of her own world.”
Jillian’s brother-in-law was the wealthiest man in the universe, or so it seemed. Definitely one of the most philanthropic, and that had just increased since he’d married Jillian’s sister Mel. Mel’s family had been solidly middle class, her mother had been a nurse, her father a police officer. She’d lost her mother a few years ago, Annie thought. Once Mel had married Houghton, life for her family had changed. Drastically.
Annie didn’t think she could have handled it as well as the Beck sisters had.
“Yes. She hates it. Syd, more than the rest of us, longs for the way life used to be. No wonder. We all married, fell in love. She’s just…kind of been left behind. I’m going to talk to Mel, Carrie, and Brynna about that this weekend. See if we can figure out what’s going on with her and how we can help her more than we have. Syd likes Houghton now, I think, at least.”
“I’m sure she’ll be ok, Jill. She’s still figuring out who she is, I think. I know Josie is.”
Thoughts of Houghton Barratt led to inevitable thoughts of the man Annie just couldn’t figure out.
Turner Barratt had sent her flowers. The largest arrangement she had ever seen. Perfect flowers that she just sat and stared at for the longest time. For the first week she’d been in the hospital, she’d been aware of those flowers every time she looked up.
She’d dreamed of him and her and that basement every night for nine days.
She heard him saying everything would be all right, that he was right there beside her, even in her dreams.
No one had ever sent her flowers before.
Well. Except for Izzie.
Izzie had bought her balloons and flowers for her graduation from nursing school.
The flowers from Turner disconcerted her more than she would admit, even to Nikkie Jean or Izzie.
Annie didn’t have time for men like Turner Barratt.
And it was downright embarrassing to be the mayor’s mystery woman. Someone at the hospital had a big mouth and had leaked the story—to The Snotty Garlic, of all tabloids.
She hadn’t been identified by name, but it was just a matter of time until she was. She strongly suspected her friends at the hospital had been keeping her identity a tightly held secret. “I need to spend as much time with the boys as possible before I go back to work.” Even though she was being released, she wouldn’t be returning to work for at least another three weeks. Her supervisor Cherise had already made that clear. Annie was to rest. Not worry about working. There was relief aid already being put into place for those injured in the tornado.
Once again, it was being organized by the Barratts. Overseen by the redheaded dictator Melody Beck Barratt, no doubt.
No one contradicted Mel when she was feeling passionate about something. She was becoming a bi
t of a menace, wielding her husband’s money in the name of the greater good.
Jillian said Houghton just laughed and gave her whatever checkbook she wanted. He had so much money, he’d never run out. No matter what Mel spent on humanitarian efforts.
She had to admit, it was beautiful the way that man loved Mel. They were so perfect together. Hard not to envy Mel that…support.
Annie didn’t mean financial.
It took forever to get to the entrance. Since the storm, the COM had rearranged everything again. Now the ER operated out of its former location, where it had been before the annex had been built. It was a functional solution, but not long-term.
Jillian’s husband, the COM, was scarily efficient at what he did.
Finley Creek General would recover. It would just take time.
Jillian was about to kick her to the curb when sirens sounded, cutting off speech and hearing. Both looked closely, watching for an incoming ambulance. They knew how to get themselves out of the way when there was incoming.
Annie had been barreled over by a gurney her first week on the job. She’d been too shy and quiet and awkward at first for the ER. That had not been a fun moment.
But she’d earned her stripes now.
Third shift ER rotations had a way of creating a survival-of-the fittest mentality. Now, she rotated shifts with other nurses, but back then, she’d been strictly on thirds.
Her boys were dependent on her income as a nurse. Third shift had meant more money. And it meant time with the boys during the day. Time that she wouldn’t trade for anything. Sleep had been sparse, but she had gotten used to that.
Her sister had pitched in to cover the time she slept. Josie was a complete godsend. Once Josie left, everything was going to change.
The hospital offered a daycare at all hours of the day and night. The boys could go to daycare each evening when she worked, but the last thing she wanted was her boys sleeping on cots every worknight.
She could afford in-home childcare. As soon as she found childcare she absolutely trusted.
Or she was going to have to talk to Cherise about switching to day shift—but that would mean a pay cut. Either way, it was about to get more expensive for her and the boys. But she would make it work somehow. She had savings, and she could always work more overtime.
That was probably her optimal solution. But then all three boys would be in the daycare even longer. And that would add up. As it was, her sister watched the boys while Annie slept, until eleven, when Josie would send the two older boys on the bus to their early intervention preschool. Syrus would spend a few hours with one of the neighbors, after that. Josie would be in the house at night if they needed anything, while Annie worked. Annie shoved the worry away. Worry and fear had never gotten her anywhere before. Not when a woman had things to do. She’d learned that lesson a long time ago, too.
“I just came from over at W4HAV five minutes before I came to get you. I passed Izzie and Nikkie Jean in the parking lot. Ari was leaving, too. Nikkie Jean was floating on cloud nine. Dalton called her Mama Nik this morning.”
“That is so sweet. I remember when Sol first called me Mommy. I hid in my room that night and bawled like a baby.” Of course, her mother had quickly corrected the little boy, who had been three and a half at the time. It was one of the rare times Annie had gone off on her mother as an adult. Why shouldn’t the boys call Annie Mommy? She was the one who was raising them, and everyone in the house had known it.
Never again were they to be stopped from calling her Mommy. Josie had backed her up immediately. When faced with the two of them together, her mother had backed down.
It was that day when Annie told her mother that as soon as the boys were legally free for adoption, Annie would be making it official.
She couldn’t do it without Josie, Izzie, and Nikkie Jean.
Nikkie Jean had taken the foster care classes just five months ago so that she could be an approved emergency carer if Annie needed it. Had Nikkie Jean not also been injured in the storm, she would have already taken the boys home with her. Annie had no doubt of that.
Nikkie Jean and Caine had offered twice since. But the boys were having a lot of fun with Mel’s husband, who was a giant kid at heart. She hadn’t wanted to uproot them again. And Nikkie Jean needed to concentrate on building connections with Caine’s three children, not have her attention divided.
But that she had offered made Annie love her all the more. Annie had people to help her—besides Izzie and Josie—now. She didn’t have to do it alone. It was hard not to feel that way sometimes.
“Annie, something’s happening at W4HAV,” Jillian said, pointing. The TSP were surrounding the building. Jillian cursed when someone rushed through the crowd.
A man was running toward them, a woman in his arms.
Annie bit back the scream. Dr. Jacobson carried Izzie.
A blood-covered, not breathing Izzie.
28
Carl worked next to Jason’s bedside as his grandson slept. Again. The medication they’d given him for the pain after his surgery was still making him groggy. And cranky.
Carl’s cell rang, and he grabbed it before it could wake Jason.
Jennifer. Concern filled him.
Jennifer never called him directly. Not this early. His first thought was that she was calling to check on Jason. His second was that something bad had happened, and she needed him.
“Wallace went insane!”
Carl’s blood froze at the words. Terror and hysteria made it almost difficult to understand her words. He’d never trusted Wallace Henedy. His first thought was for her. “Jen…honey, has he tried to hurt you? Hit you? Where are you? Do you need me to come and get you?”
“I told him this morning. I told him after the funeral that I didn’t love him anymore. That I wanted a trial separation. I know I shouldn’t have, but…he shot a woman. The idiot. I don’t know what to do. The police will be here, asking questions. I don’t know what to do.”
“Calm down, Jen. I can’t help you if I can’t understand. What’s happened?” Carl stood and approached the window as flashing red and blue lights across the street caught his attention. Too many to be a single ambulance.
There were TSP vehicles everywhere.
“Something’s happened across the street.” Carl could see people running. Shouting. “I’m still at the hospital.”
“It’s Wallace. He’s been arrested. He shot a woman!”
“What? Why would that fool be doing something over there?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. Carl, I don’t know what to do!”
Carl shot his sleeping grandson a look. Jason wasn’t going to wake for a long while. “I’ll go downstairs, Jen. See what I can find out.”
“Please…Carl, I have to tell Reggie. I don’t know what to tell Reggie.”
“Calm down, Jennifer. We’ll figure this out, honey. I promise. I’m going downstairs right now.”
29
When Carl walked into Ward A, which now acted as the ER for the hospital—as it had back eight years earlier—there were police officers everywhere, and half of the nurses looked as if they’d been crying. A few of the physicians looked a bit shell shocked, as well.
Whatever had happened, it hadn’t been good.
Allen Jacobson, a surgeon he easily recognized, was standing near the action—covered in blood—while an obstetrician he couldn’t recall the name of was tending to his arm. Allen pulled off his shirt and tossed it toward a bio-hazard bin. It hadn’t been patient blood, then. No. It was the surgeon’s.
“Someone tell me what’s going on here.” Carl walked up to the nurse’s station. His attention landed on a young woman he didn’t recognize. She looked as overwhelmed as any of the others. “Where’s Holden-Deane?”
“He’s…in with Nikkie Jean, sir.”
Carl was on the board of this hospital. That had power. Power he could use right now. “Who?”
Cherise, one of th
e night supervisors, stepped in. “Dr. Netorre was injured across the street, as well as one of our ER nurses. Our nurse is in surgery now.” She stepped toward him, obviously intending to give him the bum’s rush out of the center of the action.
“What happened?” Possible hospital liability issues momentarily obscured the fact that Jennifer was practically having hysterics. He turned to another woman he recognized, one he’d worked with many times before. Her uncle was also on the board of the hospital. “Finley?”
“Carl, please, come with me. I’m on my way upstairs. The nurse, Izzie, she’s a good friend of mine. I’ve promised Dr. Netorre I’d keep her up to date.”
Allen Jacobson was already in the waiting room when they arrived. He stood in the door, watching the long hallway that led to the surgical ward. He looked at Finley Coulter. “Nikkie Jean?”
Finley shook her head. “I’m still waiting on news. But she’s talking and aware.”
“The baby?”
“She’s…waiting on ultrasound. We’ll know more in a little while.”
“What happened over there?”
It was Jacobson who spoke. “Dr. Wallace Henedy shot one of our nurses. And me. Then attacked Dr. Netorre. No one is sure exactly why.”
“Why in the three hells would Wallace do that? The man is a fool, not a criminal.”
“We don’t know. But he shot that woman three times. I don’t…it didn’t look good. And he attacked a pregnant woman. No one knows the reasons why but Henedy.”
Carl rubbed a hand over his face. He didn’t know how to help her with this. Not this.
Carl didn’t know how Jennifer was going to survive this.
30
Claudia, the receptionist who’d outlasted the last four mayors, knocked on his door, an urgent look on her face. “Turner, hurry. Grab your jacket. Brush your hair.”
The normally calm woman was beyond frazzled. Something had happened, and it wasn’t good. Fear shot through him. “Claudia, what is it?”
Walk Through the Fire Page 9
