Falling In Love: A Sweet Traveling Romance Novel (All Roads Lead To Love Book 2)

by Vivian Porter

  Falling In Love

  All Roads Lead To Love #2

  Vivian Porter

  BrixBaxter Publishing

  Contents

  Find Vivian

  Introduction

  Description

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Want More?

  Recommendations from Lake Arrowhead

  Author Note

  Insider Group

  Copyright

  Find Vivian Porter

  Love's Always Waiting Around The Bend

  Checkout the Website

  Introduction

  Join my Insider Group and receive updates on upcoming releases and connect with me.

  Join ME Here!

  Description

  Life doesn’t always play fair.

  Clay Wright never dreamed he’d have to move back home to Lake Arrowhead, California to care for his sister, who recently discovered she has MS. But no matter what’s required of him, he’s all in. Being a family man, his sister means the world to him.

  Jenny McCaw has lived in the same small lakeside village in the hills of California her whole life. Nothing new ever happens in town. Not until Clay shows up. Sparks fly when their paths collide, but building a relationship with the handsome paramedic is a dream come true.

  But life gets in the way. Circumstances beyond their control threaten to tear them apart, leaving them both confused. Clay must choose between what is right… and what his heart wants. Jenny hopes he’ll make the right choice. She’s falling in love.

  Chapter 1

  Clay

  It was shaping up to be a very long weekend.

  Paramedic Clay Wright glanced beside him at his partner, Mike, who was in the middle of telling another joke he'd shared once before, and he did his best to look enthusiastic. They were only one hour into their shift, and he'd already listened to more jokes than he had fingers to count them with.

  "And then the bartender says, 'I was talking to the duck'!" Mike said, before slapping his hand on his knee and doubling over with laughter. "Do you get it?"

  Clay smiled. "Yep, I got it. That's a good one."

  Thankfully, they were interrupted by the emergency dispatcher over the CB radio before he told another one, but as soon as she announced the address, 314 Thornton Lane, he and Mike both groaned.

  "Let's make this interesting," Mike suggested. "I bet she's having another dizzy spell. What do you want to bet?"

  As he put the ambulance in drive and headed for 314 Thornton Lane for the second time that week, Clay considered his options. The homeowner, Mrs. Martin, was the epitome of what you'd call a hypochondriac. She phoned 911 numerous times each month to report various problems, and every time, it turned out to be nothing. "I think it will be chest pains.”

  Mike laughed. "It's a bet. If you win, I'll drive the ambulance every day next week, and if I win, you have to clean it after our shifts all next week."

  They shook on it, and Clay hoped and prayed he was right because cleaning the ambulance was his least favorite chore. Mike continued with his joke telling, and by the time they arrived at Mrs. Martin's home a few minutes later, he was almost grateful she'd called again. If nothing else, it gave him a break from the bland entertainment.

  Through the screen door on the front porch, Clay could see Mrs. Martin in her usual place, sitting in her recliner in the den. The elderly woman was sitting upright with both hands on the armrests and her eyes closed. She was eerily still, and for a brief moment, Clay wondered if this emergency call might actually be the real thing. He rapped on the door with his knuckles, and she opened her eyes and gestured for them to come inside.

  "Hey, Mrs. Martin. What's going on with you today?" he asked.

  She gripped the armrests so tightly, her knuckles turned white, and when she spoke, she barely flinched like she was afraid to move.

  "I bent over to put some food in Trixie's bowl, and when I stood up, my chest started hurting, and I thought I was going to pass out. I'm having a heart attack. I'm sure of it."

  Clay looked at Mike, who was standing behind her recliner, and gave him a winning grin, which he returned with a different kind of gesture he was grateful Mrs. Martin couldn’t see. A few seconds later, Trixie, Mrs. Martin's cat, ambled into the room and jumped onto her lap. The cat was almost as old in cat years as Mrs. Martin was in human years. She was diabetic, blind in one eye, most of her teeth had fallen out, and she was probably on the last of her nine lives.

  "Let's check your blood pressure," Clay suggested. "Just sit back and relax."

  He and Mike checked her blood pressure, heart rate, and other vitals, which were all perfect. For her age, she was as healthy as a horse … and just as stubborn. They performed their usual song and dance routine like they had dozens of other times before, and it ended the same way too. "Everything appears to be normal, but we can take you to the hospital for further testing if you like.”

  She adamantly shook her head and waved a hand in the air. "No, thank you. I'm feeling much better now."

  Mike rolled his eyes, gathered their supplies, and left to load them in the ambulance while Clay gave her the usual instructions in case her chest pains returned. "You take care of yourself, Mrs. Martin. Don't hesitate to call again if you need us for anything."

  He turned to leave, but she grabbed his hand and stopped him.

  "You remind me so much of my Thomas,” she said. “He had kind eyes, just like yours, and such a gentle spirit. Thank you for taking care of me."

  The sweet comparison to her late husband made him feel bad over the bet he’d made with Mike. He squeezed her hand and smiled. "You're welcome, Mrs. Martin. Anytime."

  She released him and he went on his way, but he left there with a guilty conscience. When he got in the ambulance and buckled his seat belt, it didn't take long before Mike started complaining.

  "That's got to be the most dramatic woman I've ever met," he ranted. "How many calls does that make this month? Six? Ten?"

  Clay shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe she's just lonely. Her husband died a long time ago, and I can't say I wouldn't react the same way if I didn't have a spouse or kids to look after me."

  Mike didn't look convinced. "Not me. I like being single, and I'm in no rush for a family."

  Clay backed out of the driveway and headed for the station. Besides the call from Mrs. Martin, it had been a quiet shift, and he hoped it remained that way. Well, it was quiet except for his partner’s constant jabbering. It didn't take long for him to change the subject, and when Mike went into a spiel about his weekend plans, Clay tuned him out and enjoyed the vast Oregon countryside. It was the first week of October, and the leaves were changing colors, turning the trees lining the highway into a bright canvas of red, yellow, and orange hues. It was his favorite time of year, with grilling steaks and watching football at the top of his priority list.

  Several minutes later, as he
backed the ambulance into the station house, his cell phone rang. He pulled it from his shirt pocket and checked the caller ID but didn't recognize the number. "Hello?"

  There was a short pause before a woman spoke. "Hello. May I please speak to Mr. Clay Wright?"

  He almost said no, thinking it might be a telemarketer, but he changed his mind. "This is he."

  Clay parked the ambulance and killed the engine.

  "Mr. Wright, this is Dr. Emily Harding from Lake Arrowhead General Hospital in California. Are you where I can speak to you privately?"

  His gut immediately started churning, and he turned to Mike and excused himself before getting out of the ambulance and heading for the break room in the station house. "I am now. How can I help you?"

  Fortunately, the room was empty, and he closed the door and sat on one of the chairs surrounding a small dining table.

  "Mr. Wright, I'm calling on behalf of your sister, Aubrey. She's been under my care for a couple of months now, and I had to admit her to the hospital this morning. She listed you as her emergency contact."

  Clay's heart beat so rapidly, he worried it might thump right out of his chest. "That's correct. What's wrong? Is she all right?"

  There was another brief pause. "Mr. Wright, your sister has the beginning stages of multiple sclerosis. Her fatigue and balance issues have worsened over the past two weeks, and she fell in her kitchen early this morning and hit her head. We've scheduled an MRI to check for fractures and bleeds."

  Clay was stunned.

  "I apologize," she continued. "I know it's a lot to take in at once, but she's conscious and talking. She wanted me to call and let you know what's going on. At this point, it's uncertain how long she'll be here."

  Mike opened the door and walked into the room, and Clay held a finger to his lips to keep him quiet.

  "Thank you for calling, Dr. Harding. Please, tell her I'll be there as soon as I can."

  They spoke a few more minutes before hanging up, and Clay was in such a state of disbelief, he didn't know what to say or do first.

  "What's going on, Clay?" Mike asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

  For the first time in the four years of their partnership, Mike had a serious expression on his face, and he looked genuinely concerned.

  "That was a doctor in Lake Arrowhead. She said … she said my sister, Aubrey, is in the beginning stages of MS, and she had an accident this morning."

  Mike sat down beside him. "I'm so sorry. Is she okay?"

  Clay glimpsed around the room. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, and he couldn't think straight. There was so much he needed to do. "She fell and hit her head, and they're doing an MRI. I need to get to the hospital. I'll call Alan and see if he can find someone to cover my shift. I don't know how long I'll be there, but I'm the only family she has left, and I should be with her."

  Mike nodded. "Of course. I understand."

  He called Alan, his boss, and informed him about what was going on, and once he reassured him he would find someone else to take over for him, Clay went to his locker and retrieved his jacket and other personal items.

  "When you find out something, call and let me know," Mike said. "I hope she'll be all right."

  Clay thanked him and walked out of the station house. He went to the parking lot, got in his truck, and roared the engine to life. So many things drifted through his mind at once—his childhood with Aubrey, their parents’ death, and the last time he and Aubrey were together, which was far too long ago. They talked and texted on the phone daily, but they were both so busy with their jobs, they rarely had time to visit each other anymore.

  He made it to his house in record time, and as he rushed through each room, gathering clothes and other items he might need, his mind stayed on Aubrey. As a paramedic, he knew a great deal about multiple sclerosis and that filled him with fear. But he also knew how determined and strong-willed she could be and how those two qualities would go a long way in helping her cope with what lay ahead of her.

  His cell phone rang, and he dropped everything when he saw her number on the caller ID. "Hello?"

  "Hey, brother. I'm sorry I wasn't able to talk to you earlier. I had doctors and nurses in my room poking and prodding me."

  She laughed when she said it, but he detected the hint of sadness in the tone of her voice. "That's okay. How are you feeling?"

  Clay could hear the monitors in her room beeping in the background.

  "I've been better," she replied. "Dr. Harding said you were coming home. You don't have to do that. I know you're busy with work, and I'll be fine. Really."

  Clay sat down on his bed and nervously rubbed a palm over his thigh. "I know you will, but I'm coming anyway, and you can't talk me out of it, so don't even try. How long have you known, and why didn't you tell me?"

  He heard her sigh, and she didn't answer right away.

  "I started showing symptoms this past July. I was tired all the time and having a difficult time keeping my balance. I thought I had a virus, so I went to our family doctor, and he ordered more tests. That's when I was referred to Dr. Harding. I didn't want to tell you because I knew how much you'd worry, and you already have enough going on without adding my problems into the mix."

  Clay shook his head. "Nothing is more important to me than you. I'll be on the next available flight home, so I'll see you soon."

  She sighed again. "I wish it was under different circumstances, but I look forward to seeing you. I love you, big brother."

  Clay smiled. "I love you too, sis."

  Chapter 2

  Jenny

  Jenny McCaw steered her SUV into the parking garage at Lake Arrowhead General Hospital that afternoon and parked in her favorite spot. While checking her reflection in the rearview mirror and reapplying her lipstick, her best friend and fellow nurse, Kelly, pulled into the parking space beside her. They exited their vehicles at the same time.

  "Hey, you!" Kelly called. "I thought you were supposed to be off work this weekend."

  Jenny slung her purse strap over her shoulder and fell in step beside Kelly as they walked to the hospital elevator. "I was, but Debby called and said they’re short-staffed and need a few hands on deck. Is there a full moon or something I don't know about?"

  Kelly grinned. "Not that I know of."

  They stepped inside the empty elevator, and Jenny pressed the button for the fourth floor. "I thought your shift ended at noon today. What are you doing here again? Please tell me you didn’t take another shift."

  Kelly's cheeks flushed. "Guilty as charged."

  Jenny couldn't help but laugh. "You know, your obsession with working all the time is making the rest of us look bad."

  The elevator stopped on the fourth floor, and when the doors opened, Jenny was surprised to see the number of people there. Usually, there were only four to five nurses on the evening shift and one doctor on call, but she counted at least seven nurses, not including her and Kelly, and two doctors. Yes, there definitely had to be a full moon.

  "McCaw! Crenshaw! Over here."

  They both turned to find a hand waving in the air in the middle of the throng of nurses, which Jenny guessed was the head nurse, Debby, a very petite woman who was as ornery as a mule. She and Kelly stored their purses in a safe place behind the nurses’ station and joined the crowd.

  "Okay, ladies and gentlemen, most of the rooms on this floor are full, so I'll go ahead and warn you, it's going to be a long weekend," Debby announced.

  Everyone groaned except Kelly, of course.

  "We have a Connie Warner in room 412, fifty-two years old, admitted with stomach pains and possible acid reflux," Debby continued.

  One of the older nurses held up her hand, and Debby passed the patient's file to her. Jenny stole a moment to look around the floor, trying to discern who worked there and who were visitors. The nurse answering the phone at one of the desks behind the nurses’ station looked like she could blow a gasket any minute because the phone rang
again every time she hung up.

  "Aubrey Wright, twenty-seven years old, early stages of MS and a head injury sustained in a fall," Debby said.

  Jenny stopped and listened. Aubrey Wright. Why did that name sound so familiar? She held up a hand to get Debby's attention. "I'll take her."

  When Debby handed her Aubrey’s file, she flipped it open and started reading. "Lives in Lake Arrowhead. Parents are deceased. One sibling," she muttered to herself.

  "Someone you know?" Kelly asked.

  Jenny closed the file and squinted. "The name rings a bell, but I'm not sure. I guess I'll find out when I meet her."

  Before she walked away, Kelly grabbed her arm. "Find me later, and we'll go to the cafeteria for dinner."

  Jenny agreed, and they hugged briefly before going their separate ways. On her trek to room 417, Jenny opened Aubrey's file and started reading it again to try and familiarize herself with her case before she entered the room. She solemnly shook her head when she read about her MS diagnosis. She'd met many people with MS in her line of work, but Aubrey was the youngest so far. Jenny kept reading about her fall, the concussion, the MRI, and by the time she reached her door, she felt up to speed. She paused a moment before knocking.

  "Come in," a female voice answered from inside the room.