On Love's Gentle Shore

by Liz Johnson

  Do something. Do something.

  She had to do something.

  “Caden! Caden!” She held her breath, waiting, praying. God, please let Caden be here. But there was no response. No running footfalls that correlated to the urgency in Natalie’s voice.

  The housekeeper! But what was her name?

  Her brain bounced and twirled and reached for any memory of actually meeting the woman face-to-face. She had nothing.

  Gasping for as much as air as she could, she closed her eyes and yelled what she hoped would reach every part of the house. “Help! Please! We’re in the kitchen! Help us!”

  She wrapped her arm around Marie’s frail shoulders and pulled Marie against her chest. The angle was awkward, but it was the best she could do on her knees beside a silver tray that must have caused the clatter.

  She waited. She prayed and waited and cried for help. But the house was empty. Seth had gone to Boston, Marie had said. And Caden and the housekeeper had clearly left. It was just her and Marie.

  And a fear like she’d never known before.

  Marie’s shoulders rose and fell in odd, uneven patterns, her lips still open and eyes unmoving.

  She was breathing. But for how much longer? Icy fingers slashed down Natalie’s back, and she jumped into action.

  After resting Marie on the floor, she dashed for the stairs, taking them two at a time despite her short legs. Her side ached like she’d run a marathon when she made it to the top, her breathing gasps at best.

  Still, she didn’t slow down, her feet eating up the hardwood flooring as she slid past her room, caught herself on the jamb, and yanked herself inside. Scrambling for her phone, she wrenched it off the dresser and dashed back down the stairs.

  “Oh, Lord.” It was the only prayer she could manage, and it seemed so inadequate as she pressed the button on her phone that would connect her to local emergency services. The operator picked up just as she slid back onto her knees by Marie’s head.

  “What is your emergency?”

  The man on the other end of the line sounded so calm and collected. While she knew he was trained to do just that, she wanted to yell that he wouldn’t be so cool if he was on this side of the phone. “A woman fainted.”

  “Okay, where is she now?”

  Natalie froze. She had no idea what the address of the inn was. Her eyes scoured the kitchen for something that might tell her. Or she could run to the front of the house and check. But there was no time for that. “We’re at Rose’s Red Door Inn in North Rustico. Right on the harbor. Along the boardwalk. Big blue house. Red door.”

  The sound of his keyboard on the other end matched the tempo of her nerves tightening. Each tap making her want to jump out of her own skin.

  “Hurry. Please. I think …” She couldn’t say it. She wasn’t sure if it was true. But if it was … They just had to get here.

  “All right. We have someone on their way. Have you tried to revive her? Call her name?”

  “Of course.” How stupid did he think she was?

  “Did she hit her head?”

  “I don’t know.” She ran her hand over Marie’s head, her fingers reaching past the hairline to the side of her skull. There. What was that? Gently she pressed her hand to a distinct bump. “I think maybe she did. I’m not really sure.”

  “Is she bleeding?” He was still so ridiculously calm, she wanted to scream.

  Just hurry. Didn’t he understand? Marie was in trouble.

  “No. I don’t see any blood.” That was a good sign, right? There was always blood in the worst scenarios, at least in the movies. But there was nothing here. The floor was clear, save for the cupcakes she’d given up watching out for, which were now mashed against the hardwood.

  “All right. Stay on the line with me. It’s going to be okay.”

  Suddenly the last thing in the world she wanted to hear was this too calm man making promises that he couldn’t possibly guarantee. “No, I need to call—I need to call Justin.”

  It was out before she even realized what she was saying, but it was exactly what she needed.

  “I need you to stay on the phone with me.”

  “Just send help. We’ll be here.” And she hung up on the emergency services operator. It was like being freed from a chain she didn’t even know she’d been wearing.

  Then she was calling Justin, her fingers flying over numbers that weren’t saved in her phone but had been stored in her mind for decades. It was his home number, and she prayed he’d be there. Please let him answer. It rang once, and her stomach flipped. Then again. Her lungs stopped. A third time, and she squeezed her eyes closed. On the fourth she let out a sigh. He wasn’t there.

  “Hello?” His tone was clipped. He was out of breath. But it was unmistakably Justin on the other end of the line.

  “It’s me. It’s Natalie.”

  “Natalie? What’s—”

  “Marie. She fainted. Something’s wrong. She won’t wake up. I called 9-1-1. They’re on the way, but I-I just …”

  “Are you at the inn?”

  She nodded and then remembered that he couldn’t see her. “Yes.”

  “I’ll be right there.” The call ended, and she stayed right where she was, cradling Marie’s head in her lap and whispering a prayer she didn’t even know the words to. At some point, someone had told her that it was okay not to know what to pray. God knew what was on her heart. So as she whispered, “Please, please, please,” she trusted that heaven knew her real cry.

  Suddenly the back door slammed, feet pounded, and Justin appeared. His shoulders nearly spanned the entry, but he barely paused to take in the scene before him.

  From her place on the ground, Natalie watched him with eyes that suddenly rushed with tears. She wasn’t alone any longer. And it somehow gave her permission to let go of whatever had been holding her together.

  He dropped to her side, his fingers immediately at Marie’s throat. “Where’s Seth?”

  “She said he went out of town.”

  “When did she say that? Did you talk to her right before she collapsed?”

  “No.” Her hair shook in her frantic refusal. “This morning she told me. I was coming downstairs to get something to eat a few minutes ago, and I heard a crash in here. She was already passed out.”

  “Her pulse is weak but there. And her skin is kind of clammy, but her lips aren’t turning blue. She’s getting enough oxygen.”

  He stabbed his fingers through his hair, which hung loose and damp at his shoulders.

  Only then did she realize that he had the freshly scrubbed glow of a recent shower about him. He smelled of man’s soap, clean and crisp as island air. Had she called him out of the shower?

  She didn’t have the guts to ask. She had no reason to. But the question prodded at the back of her skull anyway.

  “You called for the ambulance?”

  “They’re on their way. I just didn’t want to …” It wasn’t easy to tell him that she couldn’t handle this alone.

  Because she could handle it. She just didn’t want to.

  “It’s okay. I’m here. I’ll stay with you.”

  She nodded her thanks, then shook her head. “Shouldn’t we call someone?”

  “I told Dillon where I was going. He’ll track his sister down, and she’ll find us.”

  “Caden. Goo-d.” A tiny sob escaped on the tail of a hiccup, and he slipped his arm around her shoulders. It was big and strong and so different from what it had been fifteen years before. His embrace was warm and soothing, yet it launched a riot inside her that she couldn’t—wouldn’t—name.

  Something inside her demanded to lean against him, while something else fought the urge like her life depended on it.

  In the end, the sirens saved her. As they wailed through town, echoing across the harbor, Justin scooped up Marie and hurried through the house toward the red door. Natalie flung it open for him, and they met the paramedics at the front of the walkway.

  She glan
ced down the street, suddenly aware of just how public this was going to be. But if there were peeping eyes investigating the flashing lights, they remained indoors. Thank you, Lord.

  “Is she still unconscious?” A man in a blue uniform rushed toward them.

  Justin frowned, looking about as pleased with the stupid question as she had been with the too-calm operator. Adjusting the limp form in his arms, he said, “It would appear that way.”

  “Right.” The man disappeared with his partner to get the gurney from the back of the truck and then reappeared, rolling it up the paving stones of the front walk. “Does she have any conditions we should know about?”

  Justin set Marie down with a soft, “I don’t think so,” and the EMTs immediately began checking her vitals. With fingers below her jaw and a flashlight dilating her eyes, they worked efficiently and quietly until the silence was nearly enough to make Natalie scream.

  Mostly it made her want to tell them what she suspected. Justin had been so decisive. He would know better than she would, right?

  If she revealed her guess and it was wrong, she’d be the start of a whirlwind of rumors.

  Or worse—what if she was right, but Marie didn’t want anyone to know?

  Say something. Say something.

  The EMTs didn’t.

  She didn’t.

  As they began strapping Marie in place with bright yellow restraints, the tension in the air was palpable. Or maybe that was just her. She reached for anything to hold, anything to stabilize the emotions swirling inside her chest.

  The nearest option was Justin’s hand. So she grabbed it and held on until her fingers trembled. But even then she didn’t let go.

  All of a sudden they were wheeling her down the walk, and Natalie burst. “Where are you taking her?”

  “Queen Elizabeth.”

  The hospital in Charlottetown. Of course. They were just over an hour away. Faster for the ambulance.

  “Are either of you relatives?” The shorter one eyed them with suspicion.

  “No. Just friends.”

  “Then you can’t ride with us.”

  Right. Sure. That made sense. But then who would be with her? And what if something happened and they gave her something that could hurt her?

  Just as the short one slammed the bay door, she sucked in a deep breath and let it out as fast as she could before she could talk herself out of it. “I think she might be pregnant!”

  14

  The hospital was as cold and sterile as any one building could be, its hallways starkly white. Even the doctors in their lab coats seemed to blend into the background and disappear against the whitewashed walls.

  Natalie, on the other hand, stood out like a hippo in an ant farm.

  Her hair flashed beneath the fluorescent lights, and her eyes slashed back and forth as she cornered a poor nurse for some information.

  Justin found that he much preferred to stay out of her way and wait for the nurse to succumb to Hurricane Natalie.

  “Where’s my friend? Marie Sloane. They just brought her by ambulance.”

  The nurse shook her head—for the fifth time since they’d arrived ten minutes ago. They’d been on the heels of the ambulance every kilometer of the drive, but when they reached the hospital, they’d had to find a spot in the parking lot while the big white beast pulled up to the sliding emergency doors. He hadn’t even turned his truck off before Natalie was out the door and sailing toward the main entrance.

  She hadn’t slowed down since.

  “I don’t know where your friend is. If they just brought her in, they could still be processing her.”

  “She’s all alone, but I don’t want her to be alone.” Natalie wrung her hands against the midlevel counter, but her face remained set. “I need to see her.”

  The nurse rolled her eyes as though Natalie couldn’t understand a word she said. “If she just came in, they’re probably treating her.”

  “When can I see her?”

  Okay, maybe the nurse wasn’t far off. Natalie ignored everything the petite brunette said, forcing her way into more information with each exchange.

  The nurse huffed a loud sigh. “I’m sorry. I can’t let you see her. I don’t even know where she is.”

  “Can you find her then?” The skin at her jaw tightened, and she whispered, “Please.”

  “I will.” The crisp retorts from behind the desk softened, and the nurse, probably five years younger than Natalie, reached out and patted her arm like she was someone’s grandmother. “It’s going to take a little time, though. And she may not be able to see anyone right away.”

  The motion was a kick in the chest for Justin. Some stranger should not be comforting Natalie right now.

  He should be.

  Sliding to her side, he slipped his arm around her. With a smile at the nurse, he said, “We’ll be in the waiting area. Let us know as soon as we can see Marie.”

  Natalie opened her mouth like she was going to fight him, but when he squeezed her waist, she sagged into him, her fight failing, fear sapping her strength. He half-walked, half-carried her to the little waiting room. It was filled with blue padded chairs, their wooden arms lined up in perfect order. Letting her sink into one, he stood over her to make sure she was stable.

  Her eyes were rimmed in red, and her hair had gone flat under the pressure of her combing fingers. But she looked up at him with so much gratitude that he nearly floated right out of the hospital.

  Dropping into the seat next to her, he squinted at her, trying to figure out what she was thinking. But she was a vault, a mask holding everything in.

  “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

  She wrinkled her pretty little nose, those freckles that had always fascinated him disappearing into little valleys. And he had a sudden urge to lean forward and kiss it.

  To kiss her.

  The bottom dropped out of his stomach. Like a roller coaster he’d never agreed to ride, his insides swooped and flipped and spun, leaving him breathless. And more than a little bit angry.

  He was not attracted to Natalie O’Ryan. Not anymore. Besides, she was getting married.

  Married. Married. Married.

  He’d repeat it to himself as many times as he needed to. Because he was not that man. He was not her father.

  She’d made her choice. And she’d live with it. She might even be happy with it.

  Even if she wasn’t, it wasn’t his concern. He’d help her out with the wedding stuff. He’d make sure the barn was perfect. And he’d pray that Russell Jacobs took notice before he took off.

  Scrubbing a hand down his face, he turned toward the far wall. It’d be much easier to talk with her if he wasn’t looking at her. “You’re pretty upset. I didn’t know you and Marie were so close.”

  He felt more than saw her shrug.

  “We’re not great friends or anything. It’s just …”

  He didn’t want to interrupt her, but he prompted her when she stopped. “Mm-hmm?” But she didn’t continue. “Well, you knew she was pregnant. That’s something.”

  “No. Sh.” She pressed a finger to her rosy lips as her gaze darted around the nearly empty room. “I don’t know that for sure.”

  His gaze narrowed, and he shook his head. “Then why’d you say that to the EMTs?”

  Chewing her lip, she stared at the ceiling as though waiting for a divine answer. Apparently it didn’t come because she shook her head and sighed. “It’s just a guess. A friend of mine in Nashville, she had some”—her voice dropped even further—“morning sickness like that.”

  Justin scratched his forehead. “Morning sickness? I thought she had the flu.”

  “I’ve never seen the flu last for three weeks.”

  “Good point.” But that didn’t explain why she’d waited to tell him and the paramedics. “Why not say something sooner?”

  Her eyes grew round, and he could read the truth as plainly as a newspaper.

  “Right. You don’t li
ke to talk about people.”

  Another shrug. “Can you blame me?”

  No. In fact, it was one of the things he liked best about her. When other girls he knew were busy chirping about so-and-so’s terrible haircut or why what’s-her-name got fired, Natalie had always walked away. She didn’t listen and she didn’t share. Probably because she’d been on the other side of gossip for so long.

  How much had it cost her to say something about Marie? Especially when she didn’t know if it was true.

  The sadness in her eyes was easier to recognize now. She’d been caught off guard. She’d been terrified. She’d been forced to speak when she’d felt she shouldn’t.

  The steel he’d put in place to keep from thinking about how cute her nose was began to soften. He wasn’t going to kiss her or anything. Ever. But he could give her some comfort. Slipping an arm across the back of her seat, he let her lean against his shoulder, the chair arms firmly between them.

  She hesitated for a fraction of a second. And then she let out a breath and eased against him.

  Her shoulder fit into his embrace like it always had, like it had been made for that.

  He pushed that thought aside. Maybe he could just think about what needed to be done at the dairy. Yes, feeding schedules and repairs were much safer territories.

  They sat together in silence for a long time, watching other waiting friends and family come in and then leave. But still there was no word about Marie. He had to physically hold himself back from voicing the troublesome thoughts that popped up.

  Marie would have to be conscious to give them permission to see her. The nurse wouldn’t give out her room number without someone giving permission. And if they didn’t hear anything, they could end up waiting for the rest of the day and into the night.

  Suddenly his phone rang, and he yanked it out of his pocket, jostling Natalie and earning a stern scowl from the nurse. “Sorry,” he mouthed in the direction of the desk as he looked at the screen. Caden. Finally.

  “Where is she? What’s going on?”

  “We’re at Queen Elizabeth. But we don’t have any information.”

  “I’ll call Seth, and then I’ll be right there.”