His knees felt like gelatin as he took in Olivia’s present state—the fading blue-green bruises and two bandaged wounds on her face accented by a red spice mix splotch on her forehead that matched her reddened fingers. A mussed ponytail framed her playful face, and his mother’s now red-stained apron covered her like a shield. He felt his heart slam to a near stop as the moment transported him back eleven years. All that was missing were his parents and a stack of ribs on the counter.
His lips felt thick and sluggish as he tried to return her small talk. “You’re very welcome.” He glanced back at the table of ingredients. “Is that Mom’s rib rub you’re making?”
Olivia’s shoulders slumped. She glanced at Laurel and said, “You’ve done so much for me, and by helping me, you’ve helped Laurel, so we wanted to make you a thank-you dinner. I remembered how much you loved ribs and where your mother kept her cookbook with the recipe for the rub.” Her eyes grew wide, and she paled. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“No. Not at all.”
“Can you stay for dinner tonight?” asked Laurel.
He remembered the evening flight he’d had Alejandra arrange. “Possibly.” Did he want to get more invested here? A conspicuous silence set in before the gears of his mind began turning again. “I, uh, I brought a laptop for you.” He carried it to the table and set it down beside his own. “Do you need to transfer any files before I take mine back?”
“No. Since I had reliable Internet access, I saved everything to the cloud this time, but thank you for letting me borrow it. Do you have a project for me? I’m ready to get to work.”
His gaze moved to her restrained arm. “Are you really?”
“Yes, I am. Really.”
“Okay. Then show me what you’ve got.”
She straightened to her maximum height in the chair. “You’re making me interview? You of all people know what I can do.”
He sensed something more than pride in her response, so he dug in to see where the subject would lead. “You said you want to pay me back. Well, if you want to work for The Bauer Group, you need to interview.”
Her head drew back. “I was volunteering to work on one of your humanitarian projects.”
“Well, I’m offering you a job with a salary instead.”
“You want me to work for you?” Her lips drew tight, and her eyes darkened. “So we’ve come full circle, right back where we began. Fine, then.” She wheeled to the table Laurel had cleared and wiped down. Laurel handed her a clean rag to wipe her hands on; then Olivia turned on the new laptop. “Is the password the same as the one on yours?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, I’m in. What task would you like me to perform?”
Hudson at least knew where her anger was aimed—at The Bauer Group. But why? He played on. “We’re sponsoring some microbusinesses in Lebanon. How about framing a website for them?” He pulled a memory stick from his pocket and handed it to her. “Open the file titled ‘Rashaya.’ There are photos you can use. Dazzle me,” he sniped back.
With her left arm in a sling, the work proved tedious, but she used a platform with pre-made backgrounds, and soon a tidy, functional site began to emerge. The resulting work disappointed Hudson, who knew that anyone could cut and paste images and links together to form a working web page. It took artistry to personalize a site, to evoke emotion in visitors so they became intimately invested. Liz had once possessed such skills.
Once her background was set, Olivia opened the photos of the refugees. Hudson watched her very visage fill with compassion as she studied each haunting image of survivors of the Syrian War. She chose several, placing them on the landing page, and soon the cold, functional electronic palette reflected the emotion Hudson saw etched on Liv’s face.
Her work drew him closer until he was collaborating on the project. “We need investors and mentors,” he muttered, thinking aloud to himself.
“So this is really a fundraising vehicle.”
Her voice became as soft as velour, and Hudson knew the photos of ragged men, women, and children were responsible for the change. “Not exactly. Attracting mentors is more critical.”
“Then we should use some of these other photos.” She opened another screen and pointed to several images from the many pictured. “These characterize the people and their handicrafts.”
“I agree,” said Hudson, as he sat beside her, introducing her to the people in the images. “Their stories are all so compelling. You’re bringing them to life, Liv.”
He noticed the color warming Olivia’s cheeks, and in an instant, he was eighteen again, working beside the awkward coed from his stat class. Her beauty and intelligence had not dimmed, but there was a new strength and grit to Liv now, and his proximity to her brought a return of the ache that sent him running first to Columbia University and then Mexico eight years ago, places that didn’t remind him of, or smell like Liv.
We hope you enjoyed this excerpt from Sweet Water by Laurie Lewis. To continue reading, click here.
Excerpt from Hearts in Peril by Kaylee Baldwin
He glanced over the degrees before setting them on the desk, his expression contrite. “I’m a jerk.”
“No. A misogynistic jerk,” she corrected.
He winced. “Yeah. I’m not usually.”
“Really? I find that very hard to believe.” She bit her tongue one second too late. Great. Now he’d probably send her home and hire the good ol’ boy doctor of his dreams.
“I think we got off on the wrong foot.” He gave her the same insincere smile from the magazine cover. The one he probably flashed at the jury when he testified against his fiancée. “I don’t hate females. At all. I recently got burned by one, and it’s made me a little … untrusting of gorgeous women.”
“You’re not making anything better for yourself right now.” She rehung her degrees on the wall and faced him with folded arms.
He ran a hand through his sweaty hair, making it stick up in a few places. “Listen, I owe you an apology.” He slumped into the plastic seat with exhaustion, his cheeks pink. Despite herself, the doctor in her recognized the signs of dehydration. He hadn’t prepared himself for the humidity or the heat at all by wearing several layers of thick clothes.
She forced her shoulders to relax and walked around her desk to grab a bottle of water from her mini fridge. “Drink it all,” she told him. “I’m going to go check on Room 2 and give us both a few minutes to cool down.”
She left and entered Room 2 where Malaya had the patient, an old, thin man, lying on the table with his chest exposed for examination.
“This is Joseph. Age fifty-six. He’s been having chest pain and difficulty breathing for two weeks,” Malaya reported. Riley’s nerves settled as she fell into the familiar role of taking care of people who needed her.
Riley listened to Joseph’s erratic heart rate and the wetness in his lungs. If only she could send him to the emergency room to receive the meds and monitoring he required. Instead, she gave him a bottle of cough syrup and an antibiotic. “He needs to rest and return in a week for a follow-up.”
Malaya repeated the message, though all of them knew he didn’t have the luxury of resting for a week if he was going to feed his family.
“How are things going with Mr. Matthias?” Malaya asked, as Joseph left the exam room.
“Remember when Jerome got into that care package from my mom and ate the entire bag of hot Cheetos in one sitting?” It had resulted in bright orange-red vomit in Riley’s house, complete with a scent that had taken weeks to dispel. The curious little boy loved visiting Riley, but after that, she made sure to hide the edibles.
Malaya winced. “It can’t be that bad.”
“Worse.” Riley left the exam room and faced the closed office door. It wouldn’t hurt Dean to wait a while longer.
She washed her hands in the hallway sink and then headed back into Room 1 to see a baby with an ear infection. Then into Room 2 again, stopping when she saw the familiar woman
. Angelina. She held a bloody tissue to a cut over her bruised eye. Riley pulled the tissue back to reveal the one-inch cut.
“I’ve got the stitch kit ready,” Malaya said. “I’ve numbed the area.”
Angelina also had a fat lip, but it didn’t appear to require any stitching. She seemed to make her way over to the clinic about once a month. Sometimes it was stitches, sometimes it was wrapping for a fractured bone.
“Why does she stay with him?” she asked Malaya while she stitched the cut, but she didn’t expect an answer. They both knew Angelina had nowhere else to go and three kids to take care of.
For the most part, the people here were wonderful, loving, hard-working, humble, and some of the best people she’d ever met. But like everywhere, there were always a few bad seeds—Angelina’s husband was one of those.
Riley tied off the last stitch and pulled the timid woman into a hug. “You are strong,” she whispered to Angelina.
Malaya spoke to Angelina before giving her another hug and a couple of suckers for her kids. Riley threw away the soiled supplies and headed back into the hallway to wash her hands.
Malaya caught Riley’s arm before she could head back into Room 1. Malaya’s black and silver hair had fallen out of her bun, and she tucked it behind her ears, giving Riley a pointed look. “Are you going to make him wait in there forever?”
Riley sighed. “Can I?” The last thing she wanted to do was deal with Dean Matthias. Especially when so many people were counting on seeing her that day. She didn’t have the energy to deal with coddling Dean and to care for patients. “Maybe he’ll get annoyed and leave.”
“Or maybe he’ll fire you and close down the clinic.”
She swallowed the rest of her pride and headed back into the office. Dean had gone through two more bottles of water, and his skin tone looked much better.
Sure, Riley. You’re only checking out his coloring.
He’d removed his suit coat and rolled up the long sleeves of his gray dress shirt to his elbows. His tie hung looser around his neck, and he’d positioned her desk fan to blow air across his relaxed face. He was an undeniably handsome man. But it didn’t compensate for his personality flaws.
“How’re you feeling?” she asked stiffly.
His eyes popped open, and he stood when she walked into the room. “Good. The water helped. Thank you.”
She bit back her sarcastic comment about being a good doctor, for a woman. Instead she said, “John mentioned this would be an informational meeting when I spoke with him last week. I compiled the statistics.” The sooner they got this over with, the sooner he could be on his way.
She grabbed a paper from the folder on her desk that gave the numbers of how many patients they saw in a day, week, month, and the total from the time she’d arrived. It also had a list of the most common illnesses and injuries they’d seen, the meds she’d administered, and medical supplies used.
What it didn’t tell were the stories, the way she’d connected with the people and how they had changed who she was. How this experience had impacted her life in ways she couldn’t detail in a spreadsheet. She’d flown to the Philippines broken, her confidence low, forgetting why she’d wanted to be a doctor in the first place. But here, she’d found herself and her passion once again.
At one point in her life, she’d wanted to make a difference on a grand scale—cure disease, save lives, change the world. Doing the Worldwide Care Project, she learned that she wanted to make a difference one life at a time. Unexpectedly, the biggest difference she’d made was in her.
“This is really impressive,” Dean said, glancing up. “Do you ever sleep?”
Rarely, but that had little to do with seeing patients at all hours and everything to do with regrets that kept her up at night. She shrugged. “People come from all over the island to see us.”
“We?” he asked.
“Me and Malaya. I couldn’t do it without her.”
“She does seem like a huge help.” He set the papers on the desk and gave her his first sincere look of the day. One that had her noticing the mocha shade of his eyes. “What you’ve done here is impressive. I’d love to see the entire clinic and meet some of your patients—”
Shouting sounded from the hallway, cutting off a wide-eyed Dean. Riley stood, but the door flew open before she could get to it. A man stumbled into the office, unsteady on his feet. Blood gushed from a wound on his leg. His face was devoid of color, and his lips had turned a dangerous shade of blue. Malaya ran into the room behind him, holding a set of keys.
Riley caught the man before he fell, his weight heavy over her shoulder. “Help me get him to Room 2,” she told Dean.
He took most of the man’s weight from her, even as his face paled. They rushed into Room 2, and Malaya led the people waiting there out of the room while Dean eased the man onto the table. “What can I do to help?” he asked.
She inspected the man’s bloody thigh. A bullet had gone cleanly through his leg. “Grab me a tourniquet from that drawer.”
He swiveled and found it within seconds and then followed her directive to help her pull it tight. Based on the ashen tint of Dean’s face when the man had initially arrived, she’d assumed he’d bail the moment her back was turned, but he awaited her next instruction with a determined set to his mouth. Despite her lingering anger, she was grateful for another set of hands. She placed a wad of gauze on the wound. “Hold that firmly.”
He did, his disturbed gaze fixed on the man’s face. “This guy was my tricycle driver.” “He’s going to be fine.” Riley removed the medicine key from around her neck and unlocked the cabinet in the corner. Most people weren’t accustomed to seeing so much blood, especially in someone they’d so recently interacted with. All in all, Dean was handling things okay.
Malaya rushed back into the exam room, her cheeks flushed.
“Ask him what happened,” Riley said to Malaya. She scanned the shelf for a few meds and a syringe before heading back to the man.
Malaya went off in rapid-fire Tagalog. The man’s glazed eyes remained unfocused, but he managed to get out a few breathy sentences in between his moans of pain.
“His name is Danilo,” Malaya reported, her voice quiet. “He and his father drove out to the road to direct Mr. Matthias’s hired car into the village, since it can be difficult to find. They were ambushed.”
Riley motioned for Dean to release the gauze. When he didn’t move, she tapped his hand until he lifted it. Malaya stepped forward to take Dean’s place.
“Who ambushed him?” Dean asked, seeming dazed.
Malaya asked Danilo, her eyes widening when he responded. “Terrorists. They usually leave the locals alone …” Her voice drifted off.
“Which group is it?” Riley demanded. There were several, each fighting against the established government for their own ends. She’d been aware of the danger when she’d arrived, but since she posed no threat to their government or way of life, she’d soon put aside her fear and focused on her job. She’d treated some of the local terrorists’ family members, and they seemed to leave her alone as a result.
“Danilo doesn’t know,” Malaya said. Some of the terrorist groups were more organized than others. If Danilo had crossed them, they would waste no time in killing him and anyone who stood in their way.
“Did they follow him into town?” Riley grabbed an oxygen tank and placed the mask over Danilo’s face before returning her focus to his leg. The bullet had gone all the way through, which meant she wouldn’t have to dig it out, a fact she was grateful for with the rudimentary tools she’d have to use. And it had missed any major arteries.
“They can’t be too far behind if they did follow him,” Malaya said.
Danilo spoke again, and Malaya gripped the edge of the table as if to keep her balance. Riley had rarely seen Malaya so upended.
“What is it?” Riley asked.
Malaya swallowed. “The terrorists heard a wealthy American had arrived.”
&nbs
p; Riley paused as all the pieces clicked into place. She turned to Dean, accusation firing in every word. “They’re coming for you.”
We hoped you enjoyed this excerpt from Hearts in Peril by Kaylee Baldwin. To continue reading, click here.
Also By Maria Hoagland
The {Re}Model Marriage
This Romance Renovations novel is a 2016 Whitney Award Finalist and was awarded a Crowned Heart in the InD’Tale Magazine.
From the outside, Kirk and Jamie appear to have a beautiful home and the perfect marriage. Inside, the aging craftsman is falling apart, their marriage is crumbling from neglect, and Jamie Royce wants out! Kirk, on the other hand, isn’t ready to give up on either the house or their relationship.
With their divorce scheduled for the day after their daughter’s high school graduation, Jamie and Kirk have to fix the home’s problems to lift their selling price out of the basement. Working to renovate the home together, they discover secrets—in the home, in their marriage, and in the fertility clinic that helped give them their daughter—and find themselves questioning what true love really is.
Kayaks & Kisses
Hallmark movies meets HGTV in this Romance Renovations sweet novella.
Brynn Caley is about to start her dream career running an outdoor sporting goods store when an out-of-town business guru makes his own offer on the property. Coerced into forming a temporary partnership, Brynn, with her ski experience, finds she has to work with fishing expert Gage to run the year-round shop. Through a series of innocent misconceptions and a few blatant lies, Brynn doesn’t realize that the handsome single guy on the construction crew is her new partner, and he doesn’t want to set her straight until he can gain her favor. She, on the other hand, would do anything not to work with the stuffy businessman she’s only met through email.
Beauty and the Billionaire Beast Page 15
