by Lily George
He shook his head, obviously eager to get on with treatment. “I haven’t eaten any peanuts. Don’t know what happened.”
“I saw you eating black walnut waffles in the dining room. If you’re allergic to peanuts, it’s possible you’ve developed an allergy to other nuts.”
He blinked in surprise. “Black walnut waffles?”
“Bertie Meyer’s famous for them. You must not be from around here.”
He shook his head. “I just saw the waffles on the buffet, and they looked good. Friday night’s a strange time for a breakfast buffet.”
“Bertie’s breakfast fare is famous, and a few months ago she gave in to public demand to keep the breakfast flowing all day on Friday, Saturday and Sunday. In town for a visit?”
He shook his head. “Unfinished business.”
She grabbed an ampoule of epinephrine, 1-1000 strength, popped off the top to reveal the rubber stopper. After withdrawing all the fluid from the vial, she glanced at her patient again. “Is there someone traveling with you who can keep an eye on you tonight?”
“No.”
She switched needles on the syringe, then gave him a subcutaneous injection in his upper left arm. “Let’s hope you’re feeling some better in the next few moments,” she assured him. He didn’t appear to be in anaphylactic shock. Yet.
She put him on high-flow oxygen, then listened to his breathing, automatically studying his features. As before, she had the strange impression of familiarity, and yet she couldn’t remember seeing him up until a couple of days ago.
The wheeze continued. She pressed the bell of her stethoscope over his neck and picked up the stridor more clearly. He was moving air, but still not as well as she would like.
He stared up at her, and again she felt uncomfortable. Often, a patient with breathing problems remained focused on the medical provider, desperate for rescue. Stop being so skittish, Karah Lee. The poor guy just wants to breathe.
Of course, she was overly sensitive lately. Her father was coming to town Sunday night to make a speech Monday morning and charm the people into voting for the tax levy that would enable this clinic to have a hospital designation.
He would, of course, be as critical of her as he always was. If the great State Senator Kemper MacDonald’s constituents had to endure the edge of his tongue as often as his own younger daughter did, would they continue to vote for him?
“Stick out your tongue,” she said. He did as he was told. It was slightly swollen, but not bad. “Tingly?”
He nodded.
“That’s typical, but we won’t take chances.” She checked his blood pressure, then heart rate—which was slightly increased due to the stress of his condition and his epi. “Now for the IV solumedrol,” she said, reaching across to the computer terminal in the exam room to take it out of hibernation.
After establishing an IV in Jerrod’s arm and placing him on a heart monitor, complete with blood pressure cuff and pulse oximetry unit, she punched her password into the computer and started a new file.
While waiting for it to pull up her screen, she excused herself and went into the reception room to call Jill, the clinic’s head nurse. Jerrod would need to be kept at least for a couple of hours, or until he was completely out of danger. Karah Lee wanted company. And it was protocol.
A movement drew her attention toward the plate glass entry door, and she saw the outline of a human shadow in the darkness, just past her own reflection. Her blood ran cold. Who was out there?
Chapter Two
Taylor Jackson controlled his irritation with difficulty as he watched Karah Lee through the plate glass door. How many times had he told her to call for backup when she had an evening emergency?
And yet, how many times had she snapped at him to stop nagging her? With Karah Lee, he had found that impossible, because she constantly took risks. His irritation with those risks had caused too many conflicts, and that was one reason they hadn’t seen each other—at least socially—for over two weeks. Actually, it had been two weeks, one day, thirteen hours and twenty or so minutes. And it had felt like a couple of years.
Chagrined by the look of fear he saw on her face, he reached for the door and pulled it open, silently thanking God for his little spy. Fawn Morrison, Karah Lee’s precocious, seventeen-year-old foster daughter, had taken personal responsibility for the love life of her guardian. Taylor knew a good thing when he saw it, and he shamelessly allowed the teenager to run interference for him, especially since Karah Lee had been firm about avoiding him.
When he stepped inside, recognition and relief chased each other across Karah Lee’s expression…and a hint of some other emotion. Sadness? Tension?
“Taylor, what are you doing here?”
Yep, tension. Even irritation. He had to suppress a satisfied smile. If she didn’t still love him, would she be so ill at ease with him? He resisted the urge to reach out and comb his fingers through those luxuriant red waves of wayward hair.
“Just saw the lights on and thought I’d check things out.” He knew she hadn’t recovered from the attack last summer. He also knew she was aggravatingly independent, and that this new aspect of her character—vulnerability—annoyed her. “Need some help?”
She hesitated, glancing toward the phone.
He could read her thoughts. “Why call Jill and disturb her evening when you’ve already got backup right here on the premises? Let me help out. Where’s the patient? What’s going on?”
“He’s in exam two.” She glanced in the direction of the exam room, and Taylor caught the slight frown. Something about the patient disturbed her. “Bad allergy.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“I’ve already taken care of the necessities, and it doesn’t look as if he’s getting worse at this time.”
“So he isn’t anaphylactic?”
“It could become that way. I want to keep him for a couple of hours.”
“Then I’ll hang around.”
She hesitated, nibbling distractedly on her full, luscious lower lip. Amazing. Karah Lee Fletcher at a loss for words. It was a memorable moment. Later, when they’d been married for forty years, he’d remind her about how diligently she had fought to avoid matrimony.
Please, God, let us be together in forty years.
As he followed her to the exam room he could barely keep his gaze from flitting to her every few seconds. He felt like a starving man who had gone too long without the hope of food. It only proved to him how accustomed he had grown to the thought of permanence with Karah Lee Fletcher.
He loved her indomitable will, and yet she was very much a woman, complete with a tender, breakable heart. If only she could realize that he did not intend to break that heart. And that fighting didn’t mean impending loss. How could he convince her they could work it out?
He watched her as she spoke softly to the patient. Something about the tenor of her voice, however, alerted him. This man was making her nervous. Why?
“Jerrod Houston,” she said, “meet Ranger Taylor Jackson. He’s also a paramedic, and he helps out here at the clinic when he isn’t fighting fires or making rescues.” Her lighthearted small talk seemed to fall flat.
Jerrod nodded, his heavy lids drooping with obvious lethargy. Karah Lee most likely had given him a hefty injection of Benadryl. It seemed apparent, however, that even though the man was fighting the grogginess, his attention was focused intently on Karah Lee.
What was up with this guy?
By the time Karah Lee entered the patient’s scanty history into the computer, he had begun to snore. She noted his breathing sounded much better.
Taylor continued to hover over her like a protective watchdog, even though it must have been obvious to him that Jerrod wouldn’t be a threat to anyone in the n
ear future.
“Mind telling me what it is about him that’s bothering you?” he asked.
She entered the final bit of information in the computer. Any other time she wouldn’t have hesitated to tell him. “Everything’s fine, Taylor.”
She could almost feel the faint strum of his irritation. Big, strong Taylor had to be able to fix every situation or he wasn’t happy.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to hang around for the next couple of hours,” he said.
She nodded. She didn’t mind at all. Ever since a hired hit man had nearly killed her and Fawn in this very clinic, Taylor had been very protective of them. It made her feel cared for.
Still, there were doubts. Always, there were doubts. Every man wanted to be a hero, and Taylor was definitely that. But there came a time when the glamour wore off and a man was left with the plain, day-after-day experience of living with a woman. Wives weren’t nearly as exciting as helpless damsels in distress. Love always cooled, and often turned to dislike. Then the fighting began. Karah Lee and Taylor had already reached that stage. What hope did they have of a good future?
She knew all about that, because her own parents had fought for years. Dad had, in fact, reminded her of that very thing when she last spoke with him on the phone. Hadn’t her own sister proven that even the best of relationships didn’t last? Like father, like daughter, Shona was in the painful throes of separation, as well. And that had been a marriage Karah Lee thought would last forever.
“Are you sure you can stay?” she asked. “I mean, you might get called out.”
The love in those gray hazel eyes nearly melted her heart. In that strong, freckled face, she saw a man who was ethical, dependable and tender.
“I was off duty ten minutes ago,” he said.
“That’s perfect.” She scooted her chair back and stood. “No need for both of us to hang around, and Fawn needs help with homework. We’ve already got the blood pressure cuff on his arm and the pulse ox on his finger.”
“Can’t Fawn bring her homework—”
“Take a reading every fifteen minutes. You know my number, and you know I’m just down the road. Call me if you need me.” She left him standing in the middle of the exam room, relieved to get out of the clinic.
Chapter Three
On Saturday morning, bright sunshine failed to lift Taylor’s spirits as he entered Hideaway Clinic. Karah Lee had returned last night in time to make a follow-up appointment with their patient and release him. Then she’d smiled sweetly at Taylor, thanked him for staying and dismissed him, as well.
Just like that. Frustration didn’t begin to describe the way Taylor felt, and he wanted to catch her before any patients arrived. They needed to talk. He shouldn’t have been so quick to leave last night.
Blaze Farmer sat at the reception desk, frowning at the computer. “Morning,” he called, obviously distracted.
Taylor returned the greeting. “Anything wrong?”
The seventeen-year-old high school senior looked up, his ebony face filled with confusion. “I tried to download a medical text onto the computer this morning and it wouldn’t allow me on.”
“Why not?”
“It said there was an illegal entry, but that’s crazy. Either this computer’s lying to me, or Karah Lee’s been putting in a lot of hours here at night and she messed it up again.”
“We had an emergency last night. Karah Lee and I took care of it. Maybe she didn’t shut it down properly.”
“We don’t shut down the computers at night, we put them into hibernation.” Blaze shook his head. “This shows Karah Lee’s entries from the terminal in exam room two yesterday evening, but did she come back this morning at four o’clock for some reason? Did we have two emergencies in one night?”
Taylor glanced at his watch. “Whose password was entered?”
“Karah Lee’s. Jill said she didn’t get any calls last night. You were the only other person on call. Karah Lee knows after-hours calls require a support staff backup.”
“Were any patient files pulled up?” Taylor asked.
“Nope, but this is weird. Karah Lee’s personnel file was accessed.” Blaze’s eyes widened. “You don’t think she’s trying to update her info for some reason, do you? You know, to look for another job?”
The suggestion jolted Taylor momentarily. Would Karah Lee be so determined to avoid him that she would look for a position elsewhere? “She’s contracted to work here until next June.”
Blaze gave an expressive shrug. “Can’t contracts be broken? I mean, if Karah Lee just wanted to check out her file, why sneak into the clinic in the middle of the night to do it? I don’t know why you two are feuding, but you’d better patch it up fast, or we might lose us a good doctor.”
Karah Lee balanced her cup of coffee on top of a bakery box and reached for the front door of the clinic. It came open before she could touch the handle.
Taylor Jackson, looking tired and grim, stood holding the door for her to enter.
“Thanks. You’re up and around early this morning.” She took note of the set of his jaw and the look in his eyes. “Is something wrong?”
“That’s what we need to find out.” He took the items from her hands and carried them to the reception desk, where Blaze manned the computer. Before she could follow and rescue her coffee and a chocolate éclair from the box of pastries—Blaze shared her taste in breakfast food and drink—Taylor had returned to steer her back outside with a gentle hand on her elbow. “We need to talk.”
“Why? What’s going on? Is everyone okay? Has something—”
“Everyone’s fine, don’t worry. This is between you and me.”
Oh. “Taylor, can’t it wait? I have patients in twenty minutes, and I haven’t had breakfast, and I’m not in the mood for another fight.”
“No fighting, I promise, but this is important. You didn’t call for backup last night when you should have, and I think that’s because of this…friction between us lately.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I should have called, but you know how I hate to disturb someone at home when I can handle the situation by myself.”
With his hand still warm on her arm, he guided her across the nearly deserted street toward a gazebo that overlooked the lake. Early morning sunlight glittered like diamonds across the surface of the water. “I was on call, and you didn’t want to call me. And then when I did show up, you wouldn’t even stay in the clinic with me for a couple of hours.”
Karah Lee could hear in his voice that her action had hurt him. “I wasn’t lying about Fawn’s homework. She’s trying so hard to catch up and graduate, and she needs me. I can’t let her down.”
He tilted his head sideways, considering her for a long moment. “That’s the only reason you left?”
She turned and strolled toward the water’s edge, bypassing a pastel blue and white gazebo—one of several that dotted this broad lawn between the town square and the lakeshore. This was one of her favorite places to come and think about things. Right now, she could barely focus on walking, much less thinking. That was what Taylor did to her.
He caught up with her. “Karah Lee, I’m sorry. I have no right to make any demands on you. We haven’t made any promises. I’m not going to force anything.”
“I thought you said we wouldn’t fight.”
“This isn’t a fight, it’s a discussion. The problem we’re having isn’t just about us, it’s about your father. That man did a number on you. He isn’t representative of all men.”
“Don’t try to tell me again that marriage is all sweetness and light.” She reached the water’s edge and looked up at him. The morning sunlight glinted highlights across his bronze auburn hair, and etched more deeply the lines of fatigue around his eyes.
“I�
��ve never tried to tell you that,” he said quietly. “But I know how satisfying and good a real marriage is. I’ve seen my parents happily married for many decades. We could have that kind of marriage.”
She heard the sadness in his voice. His first wife had left him after the death of their only child. Karah Lee knew Taylor would never have been the one to leave. He was a hopeless romantic who believed marriage was forever. He needed to join the real world.
A car pulled into a parking spot in front of the clinic. Soon the patients would start arriving. “I have to get to work,” she said gently.
“First will you tell me if you’re looking for another job?”
“Why on earth would you ask that?”
“Blaze noticed you returned to the clinic very early this morning and accessed your personnel file.”
“I left last night about two minutes after you did, and I never returned until you met me at the door and took my coffee and box of pastries—half of which Blaze has probably eaten, by the way. That kid eats more than everyone else in the clinic combined.”
“The computer doesn’t lie.”
“Well, the computer is wrong this time. Cheyenne would roast me over an open fire if I even tried to look for another job. Besides, I have my own copy of my resume—I don’t need to break into the clinic files for that.”
“Then we need to check out a few things.”
Chapter Four
Taylor sat at the staff table in the break room facing a dejected teenager and a hungry doctor. Blaze had made a habit every evening before closing to double-check the front and back entrances of the clinic. Ever since fugitive Fawn Morrison had spent the night undetected in the clinic in June, Blaze had grown serious about clinic security.
“I can’t believe I could’ve left a door unlocked,” Blaze said.
“Don’t be silly.” Karah Lee sipped her coffee, which she had rescued just in time from Blaze’s hands. “I’m the one who locked up last night after our patient was discharged.”
