Coincidences: #3 Diana & Anya

by Diroll-Nichols, Karen

  “Because they all die…they all leave you alone,” she said fiercely. “But he would not stop…I knew…I knew inside how it would be…what would happen…” she whispered hoarsely. “He would always sit and talk…he could talk until he dawn if I allowed it! Then one afternoon…I think I was tired…he leaned across my desk while I was working on papers…he said…you know, you can get me to shut up, Anya…just agree to have dinner with me tonight. I told him no and to go away…he called me a chicken…and…and I was laughing at his clucking…so I said, alright! Alright, just go and let me work! He jumped up and said he’d be back in a hour to take me to dinner…and he was…”

  “He sounds like he was full of life and fun and he made you laugh,” Bella smiled with her.

  “He did…picnics and playing in the snow…he hated my van…it was the one thing we argued about…my living in the van…I told him it was my version of a gypsy caravan. But he never believed me.”

  “Why did you live in a van?” Bella asked the question, but she had already guessed the answer.

  “Fear…a silly illogic that maybe…maybe if I moved it every day…I would avoid the bombs…the gun battles in the streets…” Anya shook her head. “It made sense to me then.”

  “Will knew how much you longed for peace, didn’t he?” Jane swiped at her own tears, cursing the world and the humans that cause so much pain.

  All Anya could do was nod, her good hand up and covering lips that quivered. “Is this what happens when you lose a little blood and get shot? Your insides turn to mush?”

  Bella moved to her side, holding her close for several long minutes. “It’s not a bad thing to remember, Anya. I tried figuring out why I allowed Sam close to me after so long. He was persistent. A pest,” she said with a chuckle. “I felt like I was…was an egg…and there were cracks beginning in my shell after so very long. Men tried…but I just had no interest. But Sam…made me laugh…and dance…and just remember that Mark wouldn’t have wanted me to be alone. He would have been the first to fight to make me laugh and play again.”

  “We found a little apartment,” Anya said quietly, gazing off into the sunshine. “One afternoon we just stayed in bed…laughing and making love…and I said…I just want to be someplace safe…someplace where no bombs are falling on us…he…” her voice broke and the tears fell but she was smiling. “He pulled a ring from the pocket of his pants and said…I can give you that peace, Anya…marry me…I…I told him he was crazy…he said he was in love.”

  “Oh,” Jane got up and left the room, hands waving over her face and breathing rapid. She held up a palm at the men striding along the corridor. “No. Go away. Just…not now…” She went past them into the restroom and turned the cold water on full force.

  “That’s a beautiful memory,” Bella hugged her. “I’m sorry you had no one to talk to…you know his relatives are wrong. It was not your fault, Anya. He gave you the gift of peace…” she got up and poured some water for them both. “Now it’s up to you how you want to use that gift.”

  “The last three days…no, since seeing Ian again…I felt like I was suddenly drowning again…finally no nightmares and then…” Anya climbed to her feet and paced to the window, her head shaking. “It is all inside my head again…and I…I want to…there is so much anger, Bella! Ian does not deserve the anger! Nor do you or your friends! Yet you keep…”

  “I think we’re strong enough to fight back, Anya,” Bella laughed, moving to lean against her desk. “I’m having a big party in a week or so…will you come? Dancing, food…lots of music…”

  Anya sighed. “You do not give up,” she said with a shake of her head. “Yes, yes, I would love to attend.”

  “Persistent and pesky,” Bella said with a chuckle. “Maybe we need more food and some juice or something…and to find Jane.”

  “I did not want to upset anyone…”

  “I don’t believe she’s upset, Anya,” Bella winked at the curious look from Sam when they passed the front area. “There’s Jane with Damian and…I’m guessing, Ian? I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

  Anya approached the table slowly, embarrassed. Too long accustomed to keeping a tight rein on everything inside her. More than a little confusion set in when Ian stood up and pulled her chair out for her.

  “Thank you,” her gaze shifted to Jane. “Are you alright? I did not…I am sorry,” her voice came out low and husky.

  Jane merely smiled and shook her head.

  “I’ve made our apologies to the guys,” Jane said with a crooked grin. “One thing they never tire of, is being kept on their toes.”

  “Never listen to this woman,” Damian teased, shaking his head but smiling.

  “Will you be here for the anniversary party?” Anya asked, desperately wanting the attention from her.

  “They wouldn’t dare not show up,” Bella told her, holding a tall glass of water between her hands as she sat next to Sam.

  “If I survive this anniversary, it’ll be a miracle,” Sam murmured between bites of the creamy pasta.

  “You are a high dollar impressive manager type,” Bella told him with a wink at the others. “A little thing like our anniversary shouldn’t even faze you.”

  “It isn’t the anniversary,” Sam rose to refill his plate, leaning over and dropping a kiss on her neck. “It’s you.”

  “You are getting just a little…” Jane held up her thumb and finger an inch apart. “Just a little nutty, Bella…I however, am at your disposal for anything I can possibly help with…which also includes Damian, barring business obligations.”

  “I like the fine print there,” Damian said with a chuckle.

  “I am sure I will be available to help, once I am free of this sling,” Anya offered, finishing off her pasta and sighing. “That was delicious, Bella. Thank you.”

  “You are very welcome. I love trying new recipes…and these two are a raging success,” Bella relaxed, enjoying the friendly banter and watching the new couple in their circle.

  Anya was quiet. So many things vying for attention in her mind at once. She watched and listened to the friendly chatter, very aware that Ian was near. Very aware of the happiness floating around the table in the laughter and teasing. She had spent so long running from laughter, hiding from happiness, a part of her felt very out of place.

  It was another hour before Anya and Ian were crossing the parking lot, barely seven with bright sunshine streaking across the western sky. Ian reached for her hand, walking slowly with her among the many vehicles in the lot.

  “You’re very quiet,” he said, stopping near a dark blue four door car.

  “There are many things in my thoughts,” she looked at the car and then at him. “Is this your car?”

  Ian opened the door for her. “It is…do you need help with the belt?”

  “I think I can manage, thank you.”

  “It’s so impossible for you to accept help?”

  Chapter Twenty

  “You asked a question and I answered,” she threw back, dark eyes flaring. “What do you want from me? I am not accustomed to being a helpless little girl!”

  The car door slammed, the flat of his palm striking down on the roof before storming to the driver’s side.

  “I don’t know what I want from you,” he ground out angrily. “I honestly have no idea why I bothered…”

  “Is your hand alright?” Anya sighed and shifted to the side once she buckled the seat belt.

  “My hand is fine.”

  “You are angry.”

  “Ya think?” Ian gripped the steering wheel for a long minute before turning the key.

  “If you are planning to lecture me, it would be best to wait until tomorrow. I believe I have had my quota for the day…” Anya yawned and laid her head against the headrest, only a small groan from her lips as she settled into the comfortable seat. “I am so tired…I need my vitamins from my van.”

  “You need to take it easy for a while,” Ian said dully.


  “Yes, sir,” she said softly.

  “Where is it parked?” Ian exhaled thickly, guiding them to the highway.

  “Market and Draper.”

  “Where the shooting was?” He knew his brain was shot. He should have realized it would be in the last place she was: with Chloe and Jane at the restaurant. “Where are the keys?”

  Anya mumbled darkly, her fingers digging into the pocket of her jeans and coming out with three keys jangling. She dropped them to the palm he held out, frowning but closing her eyes again.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Have it brought to the house.”

  “Are your parents accustomed to you bringing patients home with you?”

  “I’m old enough not to worry about what they think,” Ian glanced over, frowning at the tinge of pink edging the dressing on her shoulder.

  “Ian…it is most kind of you to…”

  “I’m not arguing with you, Anya. It’s settled. You can’t manage on your own for at least ten days. You need physical therapy. You can’t drive. And sleeping in an idiot van is…”

  “You are lecturing,” she murmured tiredly. “Some would even say you are taking advantage of a girl when she is down.”

  “Even down, you’re a handful,” Ian growled, shaking his head. “And I doubt you’ve been taken advantage of in your life.”

  “Hmm…I am uncertain,” she peered at him through half open eyes. “Should I say thank you or apologize?”

  Ian burst out laughing. “I swear…there are times I don’t see…” He caught himself up sharply. But her voice filled in the silence sadly.

  “What Will saw in me,” she said, lashes closing tightly. “No one ever did. Not even me,” she admitted with a sigh that shook.

  “Anya, I am sorry. I didn’t mean…if you had let me finish…” he heard himself in his mind. There were times he didn’t see what Will saw in her, and others when he realized why he couldn’t live without her.

  “It is alright, Ian. It is something I have heard before,” she shrugged, wincing with the effort. “Will they mind? Your parents?”

  “I don’t think they’re in town right now.”

  “They would think you brought home a woman.”

  “I have never brought a woman home. Period.”

  “You hid them?” Her voice lilted slightly with humor.

  Ian laughed again and inhaled slowly, trying to remember that the direct approach was cultural.

  “I did not hide them. I think I stopped telling my parents every detail of my life a very long time ago, Anya. It’ll be fine, trust me.”

  “You sound like Will,” she said, remembering Bella’s words. The memories made her eyes water, but they were not bad memories. “He said you were like a brother who…a brother…” She searched for the right words, mumbling to herself in her own language for a long minute. “A brother who accepted him as he was…not lectured him on how he should be,” she finally said, satisfied with her choices. “He said you both saw the world in terms of co-operation, not competition…and that was very important to him.”

  “We got along well that way,” Ian admitted gently, aware of the tear on her cheek.

  Anya partly opened her eyes, large, high black gates filling the front windshield. “Where are we?”

  “A small foreign country on the coast, my home,” Ian said with a chuckle, his window lowering and a button pushed on the small electronic box. “Laughlin? It’s Ian…could you send Mike and Hank over to the west wing parking? I have a task for them.”

  “I will inform them, Dr. Sheffield,” a British male voice acknowledged through the box.

  Anya watched the massive gates part, struggling to sit upright with a groan.

  “Try not to move much, Anya. You’re bleeding and I need to find out why,” Ian drove along the wide concrete, mountains and ocean coming into view as he rounded the spread out mansion. Most of it was one story, parts had peaks that were part of vaulted ceilings.

  “What kind of house do you live in, Ian?” Ignoring his order and gripping the dash to help pull herself up straighter in the seat. Her lip was drawn between her teeth, but the sound of her pain wasn’t hidden.

  “Damn it, Anya! Sit still!” Ian parked outside a normal looking entrance with a large porch that stretched around the side of the house and a carport shielding them from potential rain.

  Anya stared out the front window, the northern Sound stretching below them about thirty feet.

  “It is beautiful.”

  Ian slammed the door, retrieved his bag from the trunk and slammed that, too. He was in a slamming mood. He pulled the heavy screen door wide, shoved the inner door open and dropped his bag on the porch to block it open.

  He snatched the keys from the dash and tossed them to one of the approaching young men. “Hank…somewhere at Market and Draper is…what kind of van is it, Anya?” Ian pulled her door wide.

  “Large, old and silver,” she answered, closing her eyes and forcing her knees to lift and her body to turn to the outside.

  “Bring it back here and leave it, please.”

  “You got it, Doc,” Hank paused. “You need some help?”

  “I got it, thanks,” Ian moved without making an announcement and without asking permission. One hand slid beneath her legs, the other at her waist. He lifted her carefully from the inside, turned and kicked the door shut and went into the house. He walked straight through the living area to his bedroom, setting her down carefully on the large bed.

  Her breathing was even but he saw the moisture on her forehead and swore softly. Ian pulled his phone from his pocket, tapping and finding what he wanted.

  “Amber? I’m in the west wing in my quarters. Are you busy?”

  “Not at all. What can I help with?”

  “Bring your bag and come down, please,” Ian knew she would be moving quickly, out of curiosity and out of her excellent training.

  “They are British,” Anya’s voice broke the silence.

  “So am I,” Ian said automatically. “My mother is British.”

  “Dual countries?”

  “Yes,” he carefully removed the sling from her arm, bracing it against a pillow. He heard the door open. “In here…get me a cloth in cold water and a basin…something…a bowl from the kitchen…”

  Amber was about forty and extremely efficient, following orders quickly and without question. She was also adept at assessing a situation and immediately moved to the side, gently swiping over Anya’s forehead. She followed Ian’s instructions, finding the tools he wanted and the medication prepared.

  “I am alright, Ian,” Anya felt the cool cloth over her eyes and tipped her head back, working to keep her breathing from betraying her.

  “Good…stay that way…I have a reputation to maintain,” he tried to be gentle, pulling the blood dampened coverings from the front first, cleaning and making certain nothing was damaged. “Anya, when I get this bandaged again, you are not to move without help. Am I making myself clear?”

  “Dictator,” she murmured.

  “And it’s a small damn country,” he returned, moving extra pillows to the right side. “Anya…I’m going to try real hard not to hurt you…but I need you to roll to your right…Amber will keep the pillows in place for you to lay your shoulder on, alright?”

  “Yes, I understand,” Anya lifted the cloth and held it tightly. She drew in a long, slow breath and moved her good elbow to brace her at her side, lifting herself and rolling carefully onto her side. She pulled her arm up, cushioning her head, her face buried in the crook.

  “Still with me, honey?”

  “Her pulse is strong,” Amber had gently circled her wrist.

  “Let’s get this done…I think it’s just the exertion she’d put it through today,” he said as if talking to himself, cleaning the stitches carefully.

  “It looks like a bullet wound,” Amber commented, looking up from the gauze she held out to him.

  “It is. A guy with a gun tr
ied to get one of her lunch friends to take him to the bank for money…Anya stopped him,” Ian abbreviated the story, taping the gauze in place with a sigh. “Let’s ease her back…thank you…Anya?”

  He gently unfolded her arm, laying it at her side and swiping at her forehead. Ian carefully raised an eyelid, glancing at Amber.

  “Pulse still steady, sir,” Amber began cleaning up.

  “Now if I can just get her to take it easy,” Ian closed his bag, setting it by the door. “Thank you, Amber. How are my grandparents?”

  “Feisty, sir,” Amber chuckled. “I believe there was a rousing game of gin going on in the gazebo. Your grandmother was winning.”

  “She usually does,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ll check in with them tomorrow before I leave. I don’t expect her to call for help, but I’m going to leave the pager with Anya. I would appreciate it if you just happened past now and then and I’ll work up a little physical therapy for her using the hot tub at first.”

  “I can take care of that, sir, not to worry,” Amber gathered her things and walked with him to the main entrance leading to the rest of the house. “Your parents are due in tomorrow.”

  “Damn. Well…no matter…Thank you, Amber,” Ian closed the door, one hand up and rubbing the back of his neck heavily. He wandered into his kitchen, poured some iced tea and prepared a large pitcher of ice and water, carrying them into the bedroom and setting the tray on the nightstand.

  Ian sat in the heavy chair, legs stretched out, elbows on the arms of the chair and the frosted glass of tea between both hands. He just watched her for an hour, a light tapping on the outer door dragging him from thoughts to confused to comprehend.

  The door opened, Hank holding the keys out to him. “No problem locating it, Doc. It’s in nice shape for its age.”

  Ian walked with them to the van, sliding the side door open and peering at the organized interior. Plastics crates and containers all labeled and secured against the sides. He pulled two of them open and gathered some clothing, closing up the van and returning to the house.

  He resumed his position, relieved when she sighed sleepily, winced and worked to position herself more comfortably. Ian set the tea down and kicked off his shoes. He hadn’t come up with an answer he was willing to accept about why he was attracted to her; about why he was involving himself in her life again. The promise he made to Will was strong in his mind, but he knew the feelings he was having had nothing to do with the promise.