Shadows and Stars

by Becca Fanning

  “Everyone has to rely on his own intuition at some time in his or her life,” said Faith, her tone nabbing chief’s attention. “Could be Jake’s time now, couldn’t it?”

  She’d been silent so long he’d almost forgotten she was there. Almost. He weighed her words and glanced her way, catching her sharing a look with the chief, one he couldn’t quite understand. “We can’t avoid the obvious. Faith’s right. Something is going on with Tori I need to lock down.”

  “Right or not.” Chief folded his arms, his white jacket crimping at the elbows. “With malpractice on the rise, we want to make sure every diagnosis and test result is documented before we go running blind into surgery. Or we’ll all be searching for new careers.”

  At his superior’s threatening tone, Jake took a step back. He needed to proceed with caution. One wrong decision could cost him his career in lawsuits, legal fees. Could cost him his dreams…

  Chief thrust the folder at Jake, who reluctantly accepted. “I can’t authorize open-brain surgery until Tori’s condition warrants specific treatment. End of discussion.” He nodded at Faith and then sauntered away.

  Jake gazed at Faith, not because he was looking for input, but because the conversation couldn’t have been comfortable for her. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

  She shrugged and turned her head to the side, peering up at him. “It’s a sticky situation. You want to save lives, and that’s my goal, too. But, I think you’re right…now and again we have to look past what can be seen and listen to that little voice. As a man of science, I can’t imagine that would be easy for you.”

  He tipped up the corner of his mouth from how she read him, and strolled toward the cafeteria, motioning for Faith to tag along, which she did.

  He’d grab a soda or a coffee, something that might stimulate his mind and provide the answers he needed. “You’re right, listening to my intuition isn’t easy. But, I’m right on Tori’s account. Something doesn’t add up.”

  “Have you ever felt like you’ve needed to do exploratory surgery before?”

  Faith’s upturned face, her sky-blue irises ringed by a dark circle, matched the way he felt inside—hopeful, but trapped by the darkness of policy and insurance stipulations. Now, his superior wanted him to shelf his “feelings” as if that was the right thing to do.

  Facts had never let him down, though. However, in regard to Faith’s question, he didn’t want to burden her with the details of his past. “Not like this.”

  “Okay.” She popped her shoulder, encouraging him to go on. “What’s different this time?”

  He paused, coming to a stop in the center of the hallway. “Here’s the thing. Tori’s not the only patient complaining of neck pain, nausea, and light sensitivity. How can five patients with the exact same symptoms be a coincidence?”

  She flashed a smile to a passing nurse, and waited until she’d rounded the corner of the hallway until speaking. “You’re the specialist, and I think you should trust yourself.”

  “We rely on test results, but at some point, the patient’s the one who knows his or her own body best. We have to listen to that.”

  He sank his hand in his pocket and palmed his aunt’s ring—his version of a worry stone. He ran his thumb over the smooth surface. The ring was the only remnant he had left of the woman who’d raised him, of his family. Family was the reason he’d fought so hard for Tori, to keep the young mother healthy. He glanced in the direction the chief had gone, same as the nurse. “It’s an uneasy balance, taking that into account so many variables.”

  Again, she reached out and touched his arm. “Don’t give up. You should talk to the chief again.”

  Tingling from her gentle touch, he tapped his foot, the sole making a rap-rap-rap sound on the tiled floor as he mulled over his dilemma. Could he connect both facts and intuition, learn to trust his gut feeling again, and possibly allow that driving force to lead him to healing his patients?

  With this being Jake’s first month at Full Sail, a disastrous mistake could cost someone their life—not something Jake ever took lightly. But, he wanted to cure his patients, all of them, and continue to heal the residents of Whisper Cove. He wouldn’t give up his oath to help those in need. But, other than his patients’ claims, he didn’t have any evidence, so maybe the chief was right. The well-respected elder owned the hospital and was a legend among neurosurgeons. He decided for the time being, he thought so highly of Chief Vizcaino, he needed to respect the man. “Chief has more experience than me. What he recommends, I have to follow—”

  Tori appeared in the hallway, and jammed her palm flat against the corridor wall as she held herself upright. She inched her hand along the painted block wall to keep her balance, but stumbled. When she spotted Jake, her brown eyes suddenly widened, her face turned ashen, and she slid to the floor.

  Adrenaline surged through Jake’s muscles, and he rushed toward Tori. Before she hit her head against the floor, he caught her in his arms. Behind him, Faith called for assistance.

  Those precious minutes after Tori had collapsed turned to hours. Now, based on the results of the new MRI, Jake ordered her into surgery. While he scrubbed in, he addressed his senior. “Exploratory surgery would have caught the aneurysm before it burst. I think we need to discuss a policy change.”

  “There was no way to foresee this.” The chief paced the space beside Jake, and cupped his chin, as if heavy in thought. “Her MRI came back clean. Blood work was normal. That’s hospital practice, and some incidents are out of our control. But you’re right, when this is over, we need to revisit hospital policy.”

  Jake willed his mind and body to calm as he headed into surgery, temporarily satisfied the chief would reconsider.

  Once inside, he glanced to the team, their hospital blues the only hint of color inside the white, sterile room. The anesthesiologist stood just to his left, Faith across from Jake, and another nurse prepared his supplies to his right.

  He adjusted his facemask, palmed the scalpel, and allowed his exhalation to flow out steadily as he set to save Tori’s life, a wife and mother of a young son.

  An hour into the surgery, Faith lifted a damp cloth and, in gentle strokes, blotted Jake’s tacky forehead.

  Her tenderness bathed his body in gooseflesh he couldn’t ignore, and that chill he’d felt earlier filled the room. But for Tori, he had to be focused. Absolutely focused in order to return her to her loved ones. To her son.

  Keeping up with the procedure, Faith exchanged one instrument for another, her experience in the operating room apparent.

  However, the cloth mask Jake wore covered his flattened lips, as the gown did the ache in his chest. Because he knew firsthand the ramifications of losing a mother…and something about the surgery felt wrong. Even as Jake began to seal the vein, inside his gut, his mind, something wasn’t right—

  “Close her up, Dr. Mitchell.” The chief’s voice echoed through the ceiling speakers.

  Jake flicked his gaze to the glass in the background where his superior stood wearing a celebratory grin. Only Jake wasn’t so sure they were in the clear quite yet. He examined the surgery site and suspended his hand above the clip he’d placed at the base of the aneurysm. Chief is right. Your work is complete—

  An alarm sounded, the shrill noise jacking Jake’s heart-rate into his throat. He darted his glaze to the anesthesiologist then lowered it to where his hand hovered.

  Blood pooled.

  A second hemorrhage that had been previously hidden came into view.

  “Pressure is dropping. Heart rate is erratic.” The anesthesiologist called out the stats.

  “What’s happening?” Chief’s request for information matched Jake’s hunt for answers.

  Since the MRI hadn’t shown either aneurysm, Jake manually spread the brain tissue in search of a second bleed. Only the bulbous leaking vein wasn’t there, or it was too small to make out, too deep. Damn if his ego didn’t creep in, but Jake knew better than to feed it, instead aski
ng for help. “Dr. Vizcaino, I need your assistance.”

  When the chief didn’t answer, Jake curled over Tori, adjusted his headgear, and mumbled to himself, “I can’t find the bleed…”

  “You’ve got this, Dr. Mitchell. Keep looking.”

  Faith’s calm voice should’ve been soothing, but his pulse thundered between his ears as precious seconds ticked down. More of that tender blotting happened along his forehead.

  “Three minutes. I can’t regulate her blood pressure. We’re going to lose her if you don’t make this quick.” The anesthesiologist warned.

  Jake spread the delicate tissue, and narrowed his glare. Heart pounding, heat boring down his spine, he probed. Faith’s words repeated inside his mind like his aunt’s gentle encouragements that were always in the background and kept him focused on the path ahead. Of successful surgeries and saving lives. Tori entrusted him. “I’m not telling her husband he’s raising his son alone.”

  “Four minutes…”

  The time for irreversible brain damage from lack of oxygen encroached. He cursed and wondered why in the hell was the chief taking so long to scrub in? Prickly heat darted across Jake’s skin, and hints of doubt began to seep in. But he wouldn’t give up. Couldn’t.

  The door flew wide and the chief entered, but didn’t call out instructions like Jake expected. Maybe it was time to move aside and have the seasoned surgeon step in. “Chief?”

  At the chief’s silence, Jake jerked up his head and witnessed his superior and Faith sharing another look with some meaning that escaped him.

  “You can do this, Dr. Mitchell.” Faith applied suction then handed him another instrument. “Trust yourself. That’s it…”

  Those encouraging words circled around him, inside his mind, though they seemed to echo within the room. His aunt had absolutely believed in his abilities to become a neurosurgeon. He needed to trust in those abilities, even if she was no longer alive and with him.

  Jake remained a solid force over Tori and mashed his lips tight to keep his frustration corralled. The bleed was there, but how did his instincts penetrate what he couldn’t physically see?

  “Time’s running out…” the anesthesiologist urged.

  “Keep searching. Don’t give up. You’re here for a reason.” Faith adjusted the overhead light, her cap brushing against his from across the table. “To the left, below the vein stem….”

  Static razored across his forearms, as if an ethereal force commanded his fingers to locate the second, grain-sized bulge in the vein just where Faith had suggested. But, the hemorrhage was tiny enough that only through exploratory surgery would he have found the location. Trusting Faith’s instincts, he worked to return mother to son.

  “Got it.” From beside him, the elder’s voice resonated in approval.

  A cold chill darted through him and he stiffened. If he didn’t learn to stand up for his intuition and trust his own instincts, he’d never become the doctor patients trusted and depended on, befriended and remembered, flooded his future clinic for his support.

  With nimble hands, Faith used the aspirator to clean the tissue then offered him the needed instrument to help seal the bleed. She presented all the tools that were essential to save Tori’s life. With Faith working beside him like an extension of himself, he stopped the hemorrhage and completed the surgery.

  A half-hour later, he watched as Tori headed to recovery. His body hummed with awareness he both wanted to keep to himself, yet fully explore. By trusting Faith, Jake had saved Tori’s life.

  Yet, who was Faith Cabrillo? How had she known where the aneurysm resided when he, as a neurosurgeon, had not?

  Unless the chief didn’t believe Tori could be saved, why else had he held back assistance during the touch-and-go surgery?

  As if they both possessed a sixth sense, what was the meaning of the look that passed between the chief and Faith before she informed Jake of the exact location of the hemorrhage?

  His very soul resisted accepting the impossible, that the two could read each other’s mind or something.

  Standing in the hallway, staff members coursing around him like water around a boulder that split a river. His conflict over whether to leave facts behind and travel to the shore of intuition narrowed.

  What he’d been searching for gave him direction and he pivoted toward the center of the surgery unit, where Faith sat at the nurses’ hub. He met her gaze briefly before she looked away. Her kindness and belief in him unlocked a well of memories, of warmth and tenderness, and an image of what home looked like…something he desperately wanted again, along with a partner he could share his future vision with.

  Suddenly, Jake had one thought: Whether Faith knew it or not, she’d saved a life today. How strange how that life felt like his own.

  TWO

  “JAKE’S LOOKING AT YOU. What are you going to do?”

  Faith shook her head as Patti Woodward, the second assisting surgery nurse and Faith’s good friend, leaned against the station counter with her eyebrows peaked over sandy-brown eyes. After a painful breakup, no matter how handsome the dark-haired, hazel-eyed doctor was, no matter how her tummy fluttered when he stared in her direction, the last thing Faith wanted was to draw the attention of a man when she had finally reclaimed her stability. “I’m not doing anything. Dr. Mitchell saved a life. That’s his job. I assisted. I’m finalizing my paperwork and heading home to enjoy the weekend—replanting my window boxes.”

  Low brows shadowed Patti’s eyes as she spun in her chair. “You don’t have window boxes.”

  Faith sighed. She shared most things with Patti. They’d known each other since Patti had moved to Whisper Cover in the third grade. But there were some things, like the apparitions, the Fog Spirits, that wandered the town that Faith kept to herself. Still, she played along. “I can’t fool you.”

  The counter jiggled as Patti bent down, adjusting her keyboard. “Nope. But, I wasn’t the only one who saw the look that transpired between you and Chief Vizcaino. What was that all about?”

  Straightening her spine, she’d hoped no one other than the chief noticed her alarm. One second, Jake was requesting help, and the next, a womanly silhouette, her translucent form appeared. Both Faith and Chief Vizcaino were from Founding Families and bound by the Whisper Cove curse. All Founding Family members could both see and hear spirits, and she’d learned from childhood to keep her ability to see the dead hidden. “Tori was in trouble. I was just sharing my fear.”

  “That’s your answer?” Patti palmed the counter.

  “It was nothing.” At Patti’s incredulous look, Faith rolled a shoulder. “Okay it was a look. A plea. I was concerned about Tori, and from my angle, I could see what Jake couldn’t. Plain and simple.”

  “I think there’s more to what you’re telling me. By the way Jake’s still standing in the hallway staring, he does, too. And, I saw how determined he was to save Tori…he won’t easily dismiss whatever was going on between you and the chief. Or the fact that you aided him in surgery.” Patti reached out and took Faith’s hand. “There was a Fog Spirit in the room, wasn’t there? The air held a chill one moment and then disappeared. A deceased surgeon perhaps…?”

  Faith eased her hand from Patti’s and stared at her empty ring finger. A curse was hurled upon Founding Family members—a Lover’s Curse. She’d witnessed firsthand the damage that loving her caused her ex-fiancé who was now blind, and his dream of composing music had been ruined. She couldn’t allow anyone to be interested in her again.

  Though Patti knew about The Curse, even with her bestie, Faith was forbidden by the Founding Counsel to confirm the existence of spirits. But the woman in the operating room wasn’t anyone she’d ever seen before. Faith forced a smile that didn’t pinch her eyes, wondering if the spirit was someone who knew Jake. “Don’t be silly. There’s no such thing as Fog Spirits. Parents use scare tactics to keep their children in line, like saying the boogey man lives under the bed and will eat you if you leave your bed a
t night.”

  Patti shuddered and snuggled against the back of her chair. “That’s terrifying.” She flipped her hand. “But this was different. You can’t lie to me. And, you need to think of a better response quickly, because Jake’s headed this way. Something tells me he’s not going to accept ‘nothing’ for an answer.”

  Those flutters in Faith’s tummy punched at her insides. Out of the corner of her eye, she glanced to see Jake striding her way. Even in scrubs, Jake’s fitness was undeniable. The powder-blue cotton pulled tight across his shoulders and the half-sleeves strained to conceal his upper arms—a sight that sent a heat-filled ripple straight through her belly.

  Patti sighed. “I’d tell him anything. He’s gorgeous.”

  Ducking below the counter, Faith gaped at her friend. “Patti, you’re in a serious relationship,” she scolded. “At best, Jake’s brotherly.”

  “Your cheeks are crimson. Maybe you’re the one who needs to accept he could be the one you’ve been waiting for.”

  “He’s not,” she snapped. He couldn’t be. No way was she putting another man at risk of The Curse.

  “Listen, Faith. I’m very happy. That’s what I want for you.” She tossed her head in Jake’s direction. “You should talk to him. Ask him to lunch.”

  Daring a second look, Faith rose to see the sexy doctor had been stopped by the anesthesiologist. “He’s busy. See, not interested in talking to me at all.”

  “Don’t you read the schedule?” Patti rolled her eyes. “He has his first weekend off in a month. After that surgery, he probably needs to unload before he can enjoy the next two days. The least you can do is make him feel comfortable while he’s here. You do have to work with him, and aren’t you off the entire weekend, too?”

  Sometimes having a bestie is a curse. She spied over the counter to see Jake stalk toward her, only to be stopped again by an orderly pushing a wheelchair, so the seated Ms. Wilson could talk to Jake.

  Patti nudged Faith’s shoulder. “Ms. Wilson’s only visitor is the pastor on Sunday afternoons, and Jake, her doctor, after she had that stroke.”