by Lori Leger
Angelique hiccupped and covered her mouth. “Es’cuse me. We’re only trying to tell you that if you’ve never experienced a hangover, consider yourself lucky.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Sarah said. “I guess the part that sounds so appealing is the ability to cut loose and not think of the consequences for a change. It seems like I’ve been taking care of people since I was thirteen years old.”
Tanner rested his arms on the table and leaned in, obviously interested in hearing what she had to say. “Your parents both passed when you were younger, right?”
She nodded. “My mom went first, after a two year battle with cancer. Mom’s death was hard on all of us, but she and dad were so close; I think it must have been hardest on him. He lost the only woman he’d ever loved when they were both barely into their forties. There were days when I know dad wouldn’t have eaten a thing if I hadn’t been there, coaxing him along. He lost interest in everything without her around.”
A sniff from Angelique had Sarah pulling away from the memories to cast several glances at the others, all of whose eyes swam with sympathetic understanding. “Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t neglected physically. It’s just that it’s extremely difficult to live in the same house with someone who’s hopelessly heartbroken.”
Angie wiped the tears from her eyes. “Your parents sound a lot mine, Sarah. It would devastate either of them to lose the other.” She smiled at her fiancé as Mike snorted in enthusiastic agreement.
“Good Lord, yes! It’s obvious that those two are still ‘ate up’ with each other.” He lifted Angie’s hand to his mouth for a kiss. “Just like we will be at that age, babe.”
Sarah smiled longingly at the couple. “I can believe that.” She sighed again, allowing herself to speak openly of her greatest sorrow. “Lord, I wish my girls could have known their grandparents.” A subtle movement from Tanner caught her attention and she found herself studying his suddenly uncomfortable demeanor.
Angel pushed back from the table to grab a bottle of wine. “Let’s retire to the parlor, shall we?” she said, adapting an air of aristocracy.
Sarah picked up her glass and followed her friend into the living room.
Tanner spent the next hour trying to act as though he didn’t give a damn. Not about how Sarah’s eyes sparkled when she cut loose and laughed, with the aid of a little wine. Not how the sunlight from the bay window cast occasional shimmers of light onto her golden locks. Definitely not how her hips, wrapped in snug jeans, swayed gently to the music piped out from speakers.
He hadn’t seen her drink much since he’d arrived on the scene, but she obviously had a low tolerance for alcohol. It was nice to see her relaxed and actually laughing—smiling, without her usual trace of haunted wariness. How much time would have to pass, he wondered, before she’d truly feel free again.
Sarah jumped up and grabbed the remote to raise the volume on the surround sound. “Okay, somebody has to dance with me to this song,” she said, as Jimmy Wayne began crooning “Sara Smile”.
Angelique latched tightly to her fiancé. “Mmm, I love you, but not enough to give up my dance partner.”
The look Angie sent Tanner had him setting down his glass of iced water. He stood with his hand outstretched and smiled. “I guess it’s up to me then.”
An hour earlier, he and Mike had pulled the sofa back to free up more floor space for dancing. Up until now, Tanner had avoided the dance floor. Tired of hearing his excuse that he didn’t dance to Cajun or Zydeco music, Angel had recently switched to a country ballad station.
Well hell, if he was going to do it, he may as well do it the right way. He closed his fingers over Sarah’s and tugged her to him. Her breath caught in a delighted gasp as he whirled her skillfully into the spacious center area of the room. Tanner couldn’t help but laugh at the shock registering on her face.
“Surprise,” he said.
She closed her mouth with a snap. “I thought you said you couldn’t dance.”
“I can’t dance to zydeco or Cajun music, but anything else is fair game.”
“You should have said something sooner. We’d have changed the station before now.”
He gave her a casual shrug. “Not a big deal, Sarah. You were having a good time, and now it’s my turn.” He tightened his hold on her lower back to spin her a few times to the music.
Her head fell back. Eyes closed, she hummed to the melody. Soon she was singing along to the lyrics, harmonizing nicely with the country artist.
“I’ve always loved this song. Even if my name wasn’t Sarah, I’d still love it.”
She cracked one of her lids open and frowned. “You don’t look like you believe me, but it’s true. I’ve always been a huge fan of …” The look on her face revealed a mixture of confusion and annoyance. “Damn if I can remember who sings this.”
“Haulin’ ass,” he said.
“That’s it! No. Wait…” She stared at him, her brow furrowed. “What’d you say?”
He burst into laughter at her total loss of concentration. “Jimmy Wayne sings this country version, but Hall and Oates sang the original, way back before you were born. One of my buddies had their greatest hits CD, and somebody in the group started calling them “Haulin’ Ass” instead of Hall and Oates.” He shrugged. “What can I say? We were twelve and thought we were getting away with something massive.”
“Teenage boys are such idiots.”
He nodded and grinned. “I’d like to disagree with you, but it’d be pointless. We were total idiots—all of that burgeoning testosterone and not an iota of sense.”
“What was the deal with popping bra straps?” she asked. “Seriously. What could possibly have turned guys on about hearing the pop of a girl’s training bra?”
He burst into laughter. “Hell, I don’t know. I think it’s some kind of male bonding tradition. I’m sure girls did equally stupid things during those mysterious sleep overs y’all were always having.”
“I never went to any of those sleep overs.”
“Is that your way of getting out of answering? You mean after all these years you’re still sworn to secrecy?” He chuckled.
Her smile faded as she pondered his statement. “My mom starting getting ill when I was twelve. Her doctor insisted it was anemia for a year. After that is when dad finally convinced her to go to a specialist in New Orleans. By then the cancer was in latter stage three. Two years later she was dead. The point being, I was needed at home.”
“That’s a serious load for a teenager to bear. Seems like you should have gotten out at least every once in a while.” Her admission forced him to remember how irresponsible and self-centered he’d been toward his own parents at that age.
She shook her head slowly. “You don’t understand how difficult it was to leave her to even go to school in the mornings. I always had this fear that by the time I got home, she’d be gone. I didn’t want to leave her. Ever.”
Tanner fought to keep from pulling her tightly into his arms. Instead he applied a gentle pressure to her lower back. “I’m sorry.” Suddenly all he wanted was to make her smile. Sara … Sarah … Smile.
“It’s okay. Um, did you realize the song is over?”
“It is, isn’t it?” What was it about this girl that made him feel like an awkward thirteen-year-old kid? The only thing missing was the uncontrollable wood that was destined to pop up at the most inconvenient times. The opening notes of another ballad allowed him to keep from breaking his hold on her. “Want to go again?”
A smile lit up her face. “Sure.”
After several seconds, Tanner pushed on. “After what you’ve been through with your ex, nobody would blame you if you swore off men forever.” Her light-hearted laughter gave him reason to hope.
“I can’t bring myself to blame a whole gender for one man’s screw-ups. Besides, I was warned off of him plenty of times. My brother had already threatened him to stay away from me. But, he was the town bad-boy, and I was determined I
’d be the one to change him.” A slight eye-roll accompanied her snort of disgust. “I was so naïve.”
Tanner attempted to stifle the longing in his gut as she lifted her beautiful eyes to his.
“You see, girls are idiots too, just in different ways.” She turned her head to the side and smiled. “Maybe one day I’ll try dating again, if I can find somebody that fits my criteria.”
“Do you have a check-list or something?”
She nodded. “I do, as a matter of fact. Any man I date would have to be good daddy material, as well as good husband material. I don’t have the luxury of impulse shopping anymore, Tanner. There are two other lives I’m responsible for.”
Stiff-backed and suddenly more aware of the situation than ever, Tanner finished the dance without saying another word. A minute later, he peeked at his phone, saying he had to get to the hospital, and got the hell out of there as quickly as he could. As much as he hated leaving her side, he knew he was nowhere close to being the type of man she needed in her life.
Chapter 4
Tanner exited the fifth floor elevator and headed toward ICU, avoiding the curious gazes of the night staff. He could well imagine them asking each other what the hell he was doing there. He’d fled Sarah’s company, too afraid she’d confirm his suspicions. He didn’t fit any of the criteria as husband or father material. Did he want to fit? Hell, he had to admit the jury was still out on that one. He’d considered going home, but ended up here at the hospital instead, when he wasn’t even on call. He still hadn’t decided if it was an effort to combat boredom or make sure he hadn’t lied to Sarah. He’d told her he was needed back at the hospital, so here he was.
He checked on the two patients he’d performed surgery on the day before. Both were fine, recuperating at the expected rate and neither showing signs of complications. Of course they weren’t. He grimaced at the thought, recognizing his own smugness.
Bored and hoping to find some kind of stimulation for his mind, as well as his body, he headed down the staff elevator to the emergency room. He couldn’t help but smile as he remembered something his Aunt Betsy had told him when he was just a kid. “Tanner, my boy, making yourself useful is the easiest way to stay out of trouble. Now, go wash my car for me.”
His father had been furious at his sister for giving his son such a task of menial labor, but he’d enjoyed having an excuse to get wet and dirty. Aunt Betsy had been the black sheep of his father’s side of the family and was hardly ever spoken of, much less visited. Even now, he couldn’t imagine why his father had gone, much less why he’d brought him along for the visit. His mother had always referred to her as “… the only member of your father’s family who refuses to accept her station in life.” Looking back on it, he now realized that she was probably the only one in the family who knew that having money may make you privileged but it didn’t necessarily make you better than anyone else. More often than not, money had the opposite effect on people.
The elevator doors opened with a quiet swoosh the same moment Tanner made a mental note to look up his rebel aunt. He took one step into the ER and froze, at once wary of the unnaturally eerie silence in the emergency room. At first glance, nothing looked unusual. He took a second cautious step forward and caught the terrified gaze of one of the ER nurses. He stood immobile, seeing her eyes dart frantically from him to an area just out of his line of sight. He eased his way slowly along the edge of the wall to hide behind a rack full of medical supplies. A cautious peek around it brought the situation to light.
A young man stood with a hand-gun pointed shakily at…who? He craned his neck, hoping to glean some kind of information. Finally the man spoke, his voice gravelly and full of pain.
“Look lady, I don’t want to hurt you, but I need something. I-I just need the pain to go away!”
“It’s withdrawal symptoms, sir. Please, put the gun down and let us admit you. We can help.”
Tanner winced, hearing the voice of Rozalyn Bradley, the longest employed nurse in the hospital. Longest employed, which was code for oldest, most crotchety, and otherwise long-out-of-patience nurse in any ward. Roz was in her early to mid-sixties and approaching retirement age. As it stood, he could hear the restraint in her tone, knowing the toll it must be taking on her not to unleash her infamous verbal whoop-ass on him. The woman could be truly terrifying to those unfortunates incurring her wrath.
He backed off long enough to send a quick text to the hospital’s number for security, explaining the volatile situation. The last thing they needed was the blare of sirens or anything to incite the man to lose what little composure he had.
He turned off his phone so as not to call attention to himself, then took a breath and peered around the corner again. The guy paced erratically across the room, waving the pistol haphazardly from one side to the other.
“Come on!” he screamed. “I know you have something in this damn place. You!” he said, pointing the pistol at the nurse in Tanner’s line of sight. “Get me something. Now! Or else she’s dead!” He swung his arm around to jam the barrel against Rozalyn’s skull.
The wild-eyed nurse held out one hand. “Okay! I’ll find something. Just please don’t hurt her.” The nurse side-stepped to the rack in front of Tanner and picked up vials of meds, acting like she was searching for something.
“Lure him over here,” Tanner mouthed when her terrified gaze found his through the gaps in shelving. She gave him a barely perceptible nod before latching onto a vial of something that could have passed for drugs.
“Here!” she said. “This is codeine and it’ll help with the pain.”
“Give it to me!” The junkie rushed toward her. He clutched at the bottle with both hands, trying to decipher its contents.
Tanner took the opportunity to grab him from behind, simple enough, since he was distracted by the promise of drugs. In one quick motion, he grabbed the gun, holding it well out of reach from the man, who was actually no more than a kid, barely in his twenties. Weak and shaky from his addiction, his pitiful resistance to Tanner was over in a few seconds.
“Oh God!” he said, clutching his stomach. “Please! Help me!”
“We will.” Tanner searched the relief filled faces of the other occupants of the room. “Is everyone all right in here?”
Rozalyn wiped her brow and nodded. “Now I am. I never thought I’d be pleased to see your face, Doctor Collins.”
“Careful, Roz. You’ll make me blush,” Tanner grinned at the woman he’d had a loathe/hate relationship with over the last ten years. “Seriously, is everyone else okay in here?”
She nodded. “They should be. I’m the only one old enough to have a heart attack from the stress and I’m fine. Thank you, Doctor Collins.”
“You’re welcome. I can take care of this if you want to take a breather.”
She placed her fists on her hips. “And have you report that I’m not fit to do my job? Oh, hell, no!”
Tanner smiled down at the tiny, but spirited, black woman whose single braid of gray hair had begun to come loose from the perpetual bun. It had always looked like a snake, ready to uncoil and strike at any moment. “Come on, Roz. You know I wouldn’t do that, don’t you?”
She lifted her chin, perusing him over the rim of her glasses. “Hmph. I guess I’ll have to take your word for it, seeing as how you’re the hero of the hospital and all.”
“Oh God, don’t start,” Tanner pleaded as he turned the young man over to one security guard and the gun over to the other. “I suspect we’ll be getting him back soon for detox.”
“What about now? Can’t you give me something now?” The young man was nearly hysterical.
“Sorry, kid. If you’d come in without the gun he may have been able to help you,” the security guard answered. “Now it’s out of his hands. We have to wait for someone to pick you up for processing.”
Tanner stared after the guards leaving the room with their prisoner. He turned to speak to Roz and froze. She leaned her head fo
rward against the back wall of the elevator. He stepped inside and placed his hand on her shoulder.
“Roz, do you feel faint?” He checked her pulse at her wrist, relieved that it was normal. She lifted her gaze and he was surprised to find her eyes filled with tears, all right, but tears of laughter.
“Oh, I’m fine Doc, I really am. It’s just that, even at my age, I’m amazed that the good Lord still finds ways to surprise me. Imagine you being the one to come in and keep that boy from shooting me, or himself, or anyone else in that room, dead as a door nail.” Her attempt to keep the laughter from her voice was a dismal failure.
Tanner stood back, arms crossed. “Well, hell Roz, don’t hold back. Tell me how you really feel.”
“I’m sorry,” she gasped through her laughter.
More amused than annoyed, he shook his head. “No. No, I don’t think you are. Go on and tell me why you think I’m such a loser. Tell the world,” he said, sweeping his arm in the direction of the curious onlookers.
Roz finally seemed to get hold of her emotions and took a deep breath, wiping her eyes with an embroidered handkerchief she pulled out of her pocket. “Oh, Doc Collins, that’s the best laugh I’ve had in a good, long while.”
Tanner gave her a quick nod. “Well, damn, I’m glad I’ve finally managed to do something that meets your approval. Obviously, it’s been a long time coming.”
She looked around him toward one of the other nurses. “Y’all got this for a while, Deb?”
“Yes ma’am. You go on, and take a break, Roz. If anyone needs one, it’s you,” the woman told her.
“I believe I will go take a break.” She reached around for the elevator pad. “I am plum exhausted from all that laughing.” She grinned up at Tanner. “Come on up with me to get my thermos out of my locker. I’m in need of a real cup of coffee. Not that see-through crap they brew in our lounge. I’ll even share, if you think you’re man enough to handle it.” She waited until the elevator doors closed before continuing.
“I looked at tonight’s schedule for ER doctors on call and it sure wasn’t our in-house brain surgeon. So, I can’t help but wonder what made you show up in the ER when you did?”
