by Sue MacKay
During the three phone calls she’d had with her parents her father had hesitatingly suggested he might give her away. She did not want that either. They had a long way to go to fix their relationship, if they ever could. As it happened her parents hadn’t been able to get here for the wedding since her mother had fallen and broken her hip. They were all talking, and trying to move forward. It would be a long journey, but at least they’d started.
As she passed Antonija she saw her soon-to-be mother-in-law also crying, along with an enormous smile. Little Capeka watched solemnly from beside her adoptive grandmother. For a while Kristof and Alesha had considered bringing her to London for a new start in life, but she was struggling to find her feet and it had been decided the little girl should stay in Dubrovnik for now, at least, and, as no one had come forward to claim her, Antonija had taken her into her home permanently.
Glancing around, Alesha saw Harry’s wife blink and surreptitiously wipe her eyes. What was with all these tears? It was the happiest day of her life and everyone was crying. Suddenly a laugh rippled out of Alesha’s throat. Happy tears were afloat everywhere. ‘This is wonderful. I am so happy to be marrying the man of my heart.’ And she stepped up beside him. Kristof, he was all that really mattered. With him she’d found what she’d been looking for most of her life, and he was generous with his love. That was so special she had to keep pinching herself to make sure she hadn’t fallen asleep in the sun somewhere.
Then Kristof was taking her hand and kissing her cheek. Love shone out of those blue-grey eyes she adored. ‘I love you, darling.’
The celebrant chuckled. ‘You’re getting ahead of yourself, Mr Montfort. I think I’d better get this under way quick smart.’
Kristof’s words of devotion and love were a blur for Alesha, yet she felt them deep in her heart. And when it was her turn to pledge her love she saw him open up more than ever to accept her promises of love.
‘I pronounce you man and wife. Kristof, now you can kiss your bride.’
Amidst laughter and lots of sweet-scented petals, Alesha reached up and kissed her husband.
* * * * *
If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Sue MacKay
Baby Miracle in the ER
Her New Year Baby Surprise
Falling for Her Fake Fiancé
Pregnant with the Boss’s Baby
All available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from One Night with the Army Doc by Traci Douglass.
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One Night with the Army Doc
by Traci Douglass
CHAPTER ONE
“UNITS RESPOND TO trauma rollover. Motor vehicle accident. Hickel Parkway near Raspberry Road. SUV flipped several times, currently on roof. Three passengers involved—man, woman and young child. Man self-extricated, according to police. Woman and child trapped inside. Fire Rescue responding with Jaws of Life. Over.”
“Copy. Unit A18 en route.”
Dr. Jake Ryder replaced the receiver on the dashboard two-way radio, feeling the familiar buzz of adrenaline that always followed a call to arms pumping through his blood.
“Ready for action, Doc?” EMT Zac Taylor asked from the driver’s seat.
“Always.” Since taking over the Emergency Medicine Department at Anchorage Mercy Jake didn’t get to spend much time out in the field, so this was a special treat. “I’ll get things ready in the back.”
While Zac steered them toward the accident scene Jake unbuckled his seat belt and moved into the rear of the ambulance. He grabbed some extra rolls of gauze and shoved them in his bag, then double-checked the batteries in his flashlight. His chief of staff’s words from earlier that day were still echoing in his head.
“I know how you feel about the media, but this is Bobby’s best chance at recovery...”
His best friend Bobby had saved his life once. Now Jake would return the favor.
There were no other options.
Even if it meant the possibility of revisiting the dreaded invasion of his personal life that had followed his Distinguished Service Cross commendation. That debacle was one of the reasons why he kept to himself these days. Other than Bobby and Zac, and a few other staff at the hospital, he wasn’t really close to anyone. His ex and those reporters had really done a number on Jake back then, and now he had some reality TV doc ready to barge in and take over Bobby’s case.
Exactly what he didn’t need.
They swerved to a stop as Jake tried to picture this media darling doctor who would be waiting for him when he got back to the hospital. He’d never heard of this wunderkind guaranteed to be Bobby’s medical savior. All he knew was what his ER staff had mentioned—that this traveling physician was all about the new and experimental, mainly at the expense of old-fashioned caring and compassion.
Not good. Not good at all.
Zac parked the ambulance, then leaned around the partition separating the front cabin from the treatment area. “Looks like a real zoo at the crash scene, Doc. At least the cops have the perimeter blocked off.”
“Great. Let’s roll.”
Jake zipped up his pack, then pushed out of the rig with the heavy duffle slung over one shoulder. Sirens wailed and red and blue emergency lights blazed from all directions. One of the police officers gave them a rundown while they weaved their way toward the overturned vehicle.
“What happened?” Jake asked.
“From what the father told me, it was a moose,” the officer said. “Ran out into the road and the guy swerved. Those SUVs are top-heavy, so the whole thing rolled under the strain. I asked him how many times, but he couldn’t remember.”
“Wife and kid still inside the car?”
“Yep. Both awake and talking. We’ve got a couple of guys trying to keep them calm.”
“Awesome.”
Jake slipped around the end of a fire rescue truck parked diagonally near the wreck, seeing the snowcapped peaks of the Chugach Mountains rising like sentinels in the distance.
“Any loss of consciousness with the father or the other victims?”
“He says no, but it’s hard to tell.”
The cop kept pace with Jake’s longer strides.
“The kid keeps crying for his toy, poor guy. We’ve searched the area, but haven’t found any stuffed sheep.”
“Got it covered.”
Jake patted the side pocket of his duffle. The thing in his bag wasn’t a lamb, more like a cross between a giraffe and a dinosaur, but any port in a storm.
“Is
that the dad?” Jake pointed toward a man huddled beneath a blanket despite the warm September night.
“Yep.” The cop veered off toward the demolished car again. “I’ll let you get to work.”
“Thanks.” Jake turned to Zac. “I’ll check out the father while you assess the wreck.”
“Sounds good.”
Jake walked to the agitated male standing between a police officer and a firefighter. “Evening, sir. I’m Dr. Jake Ryder.” He set his pack on the ground near his feet. “I hear you had a run-in with a moose tonight?”
The guy, who looked about forty, and pale as death, nodded. “We’re here on vacation and were out sightseeing. Next thing I knew this huge animal ran out in the road and everything happened so fast and—”
Recognizing the lingering signs of shock, Jake cocked his head toward the fireman and together they helped maneuver the father until his weight rested against a nearby squad car.
“Sir, help’s here, and we’re going to take care of you.”
“What about my wife and son? Are they going to be all right?”
“The crew’s working to get them out now.” He proceeded to examine the man for any obvious injuries. “What’s your name?”
“Mark. Mark Leonard.”
“Okay, Mr. Leonard.” Jake palpated the guy’s head and neck before moving to his arms. “Tell me if anything hurts or doesn’t feel right.”
“I’m fine. I just want to see my family.”
“Please let me finish this exam first.” He crouched to check out the man’s legs and discovered a nasty gash on Mr. Leonard’s left calf. “Looks like you banged up your leg, Mark.” He unzipped his bag and pulled out supplies. “I’m going to tape this up before we take you to the ER. Hold still. It might sting.”
“Ow!”
The guy jerked away and Jake tightened his grip. The cut wasn’t deep, but it was filled with gravel and debris from the accident. If not cleaned properly, it could cause a bad infection. Jake had seen more than enough of that on the battlefield.
The father scowled, a bit of his color returning. “What the hell was a moose doing around here in the autumn? Don’t they only come out in winter?”
“Rutting season.”
Jake shoved the soiled gauze pads into a portable hazmat container, then unwrapped several fresh ones to cover the laceration before twining a bandage around the man’s leg. Not perfect, but it would hold him until the Anchorage Mercy ER could suture the wound closed properly.
Talk of mate-seeking moose only served to remind Jake of the sad state of his own relationship status—or lack thereof. He wasn’t completely pathetic. He was a healthy, red-blooded male after all. But these days he only engaged with women who knew the score, women who never expected more than a few pleasant hours between the sheets.
The firefighter beside Jake cleared his throat and brought him back to the present. He secured the end of the bandage around Mr. Leonard’s leg with a metal clip, then straightened.
“Are we done?” Mr. Leonard tossed the blanket aside and tentatively put some weight on his injured limb. “Can I see my wife now? What about my son?”
“Stay here with the officers while I check in with the crew. Once they give me the okay, you can see them. All right, Mark?”
“Okay.” The man’s tense shoulders relaxed a tad. “Thanks for helping.”
“That’s my job.” Jake packed up his gear again before joining Zac near the vehicle. “Dad’s doing fine. What’s happening here?”
“Mom says her arm hurts, and the boy is really frightened, but neither seem to have any serious issues. Remarkable, considering the shape of this SUV.”
Jake stepped back and took his first real look at the damage. Shards of shattered glass littered the roadway and the sharp smell of gasoline and burning oil stung his nose. The whole right half of the car closest to him was dented and twisted, making the doors impossible to open.
A small voice called from the busted-out rear window. “Where’s Lamby? I want Lamby.”
The little boy’s plaintive tone pummeled Jake’s heart and took him right back to his last day in the Kandahar desert: to the acrid stench of diesel and melting rubber clogging his throat and choking his lungs, to Bobby pulling him from the blazing village amidst a hail of gunfire. Jake was supposed to have been the one doing the rescuing, but Bobby had done the saving that day.
They’d been best buds since their first day of basic training—a friendship that had only strengthened over the years. Bobby was his rock, his shield, same as Jake was for him. He couldn’t lose his best friend. Not after everything they’d been through.
As the memories crashed in—of other emergencies in far-off warzones—Jake slowly counted down in his head from ten to one, as his counselor had taught him, and the shadows gradually withdrew.
“You okay, man?” Zac thumped him on the shoulder, his expression concerned.
“I’m fine.” Jake focused on the trapped family members. He’d always wanted kids of his own—always figured he’d get around to having them someday. Then time and circumstances and his career had slapped a quick kibosh on those dreams.
Jake battled the knot of regret tightening between his shoulder blades. Didn’t matter. He was better off alone. Alone was safer. Alone was more comfortable. Alone didn’t run off for a life in front of the cameras in glitzy, glamorous Manhattan.
He reached into his bag for the stuffed animal, then knelt beside the mangled car, clicked on his flashlight, and peered inside. Two huge dark eyes stared at him from the shadows. It was the child, still protected in his booster seat.
“Hey, buddy. My name’s Jake. What’s yours?”
The boy’s bottom lip quivered and tears welled anew.
Jake hung his head. Here he was—a former special operations combat medic, trained to think on his feet with a hundred snipers poised to take him out at any second—yet all he wanted was to make this scared little boy smile again.
“Lamby’s busy, but he sent a friend to keep you company. Want to meet him?”
“My son’s name is Noah,” the mother said from the front of the SUV, where she was secured partially upside down by her seatbelt. “He’s four.”
“Noah, my man.” Jake held up the dino-giraffe. “This is Chewy. He’d like to come in and say hello...maybe sit with you until we get you and your mom out. Would that be okay?”
The little boy eyed him warily for several seconds before extending a tiny hand.
“Awesome.” Jake passed him the stuffed animal, then turned his attention to the mother. “I’m Dr. Jake Ryder, ma’am. Are you doing all right?”
“My arm is killing me, and I’ve been pinned in this car for way longer than I ever wanted—but other than that, yeah. I’m fine, thanks.”
The snark in her tone made him chuckle. “Do you recall what happened?”
“My husband swerved off the road to miss a moose, then glass shattered and flew everywhere and we were tumbling...over and over and over.”
“Did you lose consciousness?”
“I don’t think so.”
“What about your son? Has he been awake the whole time?”
“Yes. I’ve been talking to Noah to make sure he stays calm.”
“Excellent.”
Jake shifted to survey the wreckage again. It looked like a bomb had gone off inside the car. He’d seen enough destroyed villages to know. Still, Jake and Bobby had been the lucky ones, coming home in one piece, without too many mental or physical scars from the war. Many others hadn’t been so fortunate.
“Hey, Doc. Fire’s ready with the Jaws of Life,” Zac called from behind him.
“Ma’am, the crew’s here to free you now.” Jake started to retreat from the vehicle. “There’ll be a lot of loud noise and some shaking, but I promise we’ll have you both out soon.”
“Thank you.” The mom sniffled, her voice trembling. “Noah, sweetie? Remember the fireworks in July? All the loud booms?”
The boy nodded.
“It’ll be noisy like that for a short while, but Mommy’s right here with you, okay?”
“Okay.” The little boy looked from his mom to Jake, the new toy clutched to his chest. “Bye, Jake.”
“See you soon, buddy.” Jake thumped his hand on the side of the car, then moved away as the firemen brought in the heavy equipment.
* * *
Moose!
Dr. Molly Flynn slammed on the brakes of her rented burgundy Range Rover and veered to the berm of this oddly deserted stretch of roadway. Well, deserted except for her and the behemoth creature standing twenty feet ahead. She shifted into “Park,” then met the animal’s startled gaze while fiddling with the onboard GPS once more.
Still nothing.
Molly shook her head and snorted.
“Go to Alaska,” her executive producers had said last week. “A high-profile sports case is the best way to raise the ratings.”
Normally she would’ve told them that her soon-to-expire contract clearly stipulated she got final say on all cases portrayed on her reality medical drama, Diagnosis Critical. But, considering she was on thin enough ice with the MedStar cable network, those ratings might be the only thing saving her career. And her career was all she had these days.
Besides, she’d earned this show, darn it. Built it from the ground up without any support from her father or her family. Now she’d do whatever was necessary to save it—even if it meant traveling to Anchorage, Alaska, a place that was a far cry from the hustle and bustle of Chicago.
She took a deep breath and stared at the lush forest around her. Maybe the middle of nowhere wasn’t such a bad place to be after all. It might allow her a chance to escape the spotlight for a while.
Strange as it sounded, for a person who made her living in front of the camera, she’d always seen fame as a necessary evil. Curing the incurable, solving the unsolvable medical puzzles—that was her true love, the real driving force behind why she did what she did. In fact, the thought of being able to melt into the woodwork as she saved her latest patient sounded like pure bliss, if highly unlikely. Her network’s syndication deals ensured that her show reached nearly every corner of the globe.
