Healing Her Boss's Heart

by Dianne Drake

  * * *

  “You didn’t tell me there weren’t any roads out here,” she said, holding on to the truck door for dear life.

  The road was a bumpy one. There was a better way to get to Saka’am, but this shortcut shaved off a good thirty minutes. And he was already later than he’d wanted to be. “This is a fine road,” he shouted, so she could hear him above the rattling of the truck and the road noises. “It’s passable.”

  “Then what you’re telling me is that if the road is passable, it’s a good road?”

  “Any road that gets me where I’m going is a good road.” It was a statement that reflected his life, as he’d never expected to be taking this road again. Not in the literal sense, but in the much broader one where hiding from the realities of his world now seemed the preferable thing to do.

  “Are you sure there’s a town at the end of it?”

  He chuckled. “Last time I was out here there was. It takes some endurance to get there. And we are taking the road less traveled.”

  “The road bound to cause orthopedic injuries?” she asked, rubbing her back.

  “Not if you’re used to it,” he said, swerving to avoid a deep rut in the road and effectively sending Carrie lurching sideways, straight into him, despite her seat belt holding her in place. “You OK?” he asked.

  It took her a couple of seconds to push away from him, and in that short span of time he put his arm across her shoulder protectively. Brushed his hand across her cheek as he did so, which caused her to shiver.

  And while his touch didn’t mean anything to him—he probably wasn’t even aware of it—it meant something to her, as the goose bumps sprang immediately to her arms, and her breath caught in a sharp little gasp. Not from the colliding of bodies, though. From the gentle near caress that had come afterward. Her first thought was to linger there another moment or two, to smell the slight hint of lime in his aftershave, or enjoy the hard muscle of his upper arm or the surprising smoothness of the hand that had barely brushed across her cheek. Maybe she was indulging herself in a fantasy...

  But that would be obvious, and silly, and there was no point. She wasn’t living in a fantasy here. And all the things running through her head for those brief seconds were pure fantasy. Being held. Stroked. Making love. “Ask me in the morning,” she said, straightening back up, “when I can, or can’t, get out of bed.” She looked over into the back seat where Bella was sitting to make sure she was OK. The dog seemed happy to be there, though. And unfazed by the bumpy ride. Even so, she reached back to pat her.

  “Then let me prescribe a long, hot shower when we get home tomorrow.”

  “Not tonight?”

  “Oh, the aches and pains won’t have set in by then. It usually takes a good twelve hours or so.” “Which means by the time I wake up in the morning...”

  “You’ll be feeling it. But there won’t be much you can do about it because the people there don’t have a hot tub like I do.”

  “Is that an invitation?”

  “It is, unless you want to take a long, hot shower in your apartment. If you have hot water.”

  Carrie moaned. “Where I’m living, if you get water doing anything more than dripping from the showerhead, it’s a miracle, and lukewarm is a luxury.”

  “Well, like I said...the hot tub. Plenty of hot water. Nice, massaging jets.” He stopped himself before he let it turn into a real invitation complete with a specific time attached to it. Tomorrow night, my place at seven, hot tub. Clothes optional. Yeah, like that was what he needed—an image of her in his tub, clothes optional. Hell, what clothes? What red-blooded man would invite a lady to the tub with the option of clothes?

  The one who was so out of practice he couldn’t even remember the way the man-woman thing worked anymore. Not that he wanted it. But, still, it was there, finally waking up again. At the wrong time, in the wrong place. In a man who’d taken a personal vow, years ago, that he wouldn’t travel that path again.

  “Depending on how the rest of this trip goes, I might take you up on that offer,” Carrie said, adjusting herself in her seat again, thanks to another big chunk of pitted road. “So, do you invite all your paramedics back to your place?”

  “Actually, in the few weeks it’s been my place, the only person I’ve invited there, besides you, is Priscilla.”

  Carrie laughed. “I heard Melanie Clark at the hospital has a big crush on you. Bet she’d accept an invitation.”

  “If I offered one. Which I won’t. Not to her, not to anybody else.”

  “Except me and your grandmother,” Carrie said. “Not sure how to take that, Jack. Are you placing me in the same category as your grandmother? You know, as in cozy friend or relative?”

  “Trust me, my grandmother’s not anywhere near your category.” And there was nothing about Carrie he wanted to turn into a cozy friendship.

  “Which is?” she asked.

  He glanced over at her. Saw her smiling. And the twinkle in her eyes. She was baiting him. Teasing him. Testing him. Maybe even...flirting? No, she wasn’t flirting. She couldn’t be. Wouldn’t be. Except that smile... “Tactical paramedic and professional woman. No-nonsense. Practical.”

  “Well, now I know why you don’t date. I mean, seriously, no-nonsense? Practical? You need to get a better style if you ever intend on inviting a woman to your hot tub for anything other than soaking her achy muscles.” She laughed, then turned her attention to the scenery outside, while Jack loosened his grip on the steering wheel and forced himself to concentrate on the road ahead. And only on the road, until they reached Saka’am, where he turned onto a dirt road that ran a curious, crooked path to the center of the two-street town. Right past the cemetery he wouldn’t look at.

  * * *

  Saka’am was basically an intersection in the middle of nowhere, where one road crossed another, with several buildings standing along each of four directions. Then nothing but houses dotting the general area surrounding it. All the structures were white, wooden clapboard in one shape or another, each had trim of different colors, and all of it looked very tidy, well kept. And almost ghostly.

  “So, this is all there is to it? No other houses than what I’m seeing?”

  “Most of the houses are spread out. Not too many people live in town. They fish, hunt, farm...and they live where they do that. Pretty much like rural areas everywhere.”

  “Well, it’s certainly not Chicago, is it?”

  “And that’s a bad thing?” he asked, as he brought his truck to a stop in front of the church, and twisted in his seat to wave at the line of people beginning to form at the door.

  Victor Redbone, the town grocer and owner of the one and only restaurant in Saka’am, a diner that served early breakfast, then closed for the day, was already jotting names on a yellow legal pad. And Chief Charley Begay, an old-time fixture who was highly regarded as the self-appointed leader of the community, scowled at everyone heading toward the town hall, eager to get their names on the medical list. There were many familiar faces Jack was glad to see. And his father-in-law, Chief Charley, a face he didn’t want to see.

  Carrie laughed as she hopped out of the vehicle. “I’ll let you know later,” she said, as a wave of eager, laughing women swept her straight inside the building.

  Jack watched her disappear, then sighed. It was probably a mistake dragging her into a part of his world he kept hidden. But she caught him up and engaged him in ways that even Evangeline hadn’t been able to do. Of course, what kind of husband had he been to Evangeline? The worst. The very worst. So it wasn’t fair to compare.

  Still, with Carrie...

  Chapter Four

  “JUST THOUGHT YOU’D like to know, your dog is heading off south,” Jack said, tossing his backpack down on a table set up in the community meeting room, as several of the locals scurried about, arranging chairs, setting out pitchers of
water, and doing whatever else they thought would be helpful. He looked for Palloton among them, saw him standing at the front door. Observing him. Then Carrie. Assessing the situation as only Palloton would do. Palloton, his best friend. The only friend he’d kept after—

  Carrie, who was standing at the table, already setting up to give immunizations, spun around to face him. “She won’t go far. She likes to get the lay of the land when we go someplace new.”

  “Well, all I’m saying is...wolves. They don’t wander into town this time of the day, usually, but they’re out there, and unless your dog—”

  “Bella,” Carrie interrupted.

  “Unless your dog is experienced in this kind of location, I’d suggest you secure her before she wanders too far or gets herself into the kind of trouble only a city dog could get into.”

  “Am I sensing a double meaning there?” she asked him.

  “It’s a broad warning. People, or dogs, come out here expecting one thing, and end up with something entirely different. Sometimes good, sometimes bad.” In his life, he’d had both. One had made him soar with the eagles—invincible. The other had hurt him more than he’d known a person could hurt. “All I’m saying is, if you want to make sure you leave here with your dog tomorrow, you should take better care of her today.” Bitter words. Words that felt like acid on his tongue. Words he wished someone had pounded into him all those years ago when he hadn’t taken care of Evangeline.

  Jack drew in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Anyway, I think we’re going to have a few more people coming in than I’d expected. A lot of them want to see me, and, according to Victor, they haven’t been getting regular medical care lately. Too busy to go to the reservation, and it’s a long trip over there. So, unless it’s absolutely necessary, lots of things go unattended. Like health matters.”

  “I can’t imagine that. Even when I was homeless, there was always a clinic... I really am a city girl, aren’t I?”

  “Through and through.” Which wasn’t a bad thing to be. But he liked this place better. He’d hated his years in Phoenix, had always wanted to come home. He’d tried several times. Once, he’d even gotten as far as the Montana border, then had turned around and gone right back to his city life. And hated it all over again. He didn’t belong there. It was a beautiful city, as cities went. But too loud. Too many cars. Too much congestion. And now...well, now he was back where his heart had always told him he belonged. But could he stay? Would he stay?

  That was always the question, and being back in Saka’am wasn’t the answer. Unfortunately, he didn’t know what was.

  “Anyway...” He finally gave way to a forced smile—a smile he put on for the sake of the people waiting in line to see him. Because nothing inside him wanted to smile. “I suppose it’s time to get to work. People are waiting. So, go find that dog—”

  “Bella,” she interrupted.

  “That dog,” he countered. “Get her back here and we’ll open up to patients.” He still didn’t want to go through with this, still didn’t want to dredge up the memories and face the people who’d been here, the people who’d seen, who still knew. But doing it with Carrie at his side made it better. Did he deserve that, though? Probably not. But he was grateful for it anyway.

  * * *

  “Wiwa,” Palloton said, finally approaching Jack. “It’s been a while.”

  Jack turned to face his onetime best friend. “Too long,” he said, giving himself over to the embrace as Palloton offered it. An embrace with the person he’d once considered his brother. “You’re looking good.” It had been months since he’d seen Palloton face-to-face. A quick trip to Phoenix, a night to reminisce. They’d kept in touch shortly after the tragedy, but times changed, Palloton had got married, they’d grown apart. So their relationship had turned into emails, texting, occasional phone calls, less than occasional face time on a computer. And the odd infrequent visit when Palloton came to see him.

  “Married life does that to you,” he said, smiling. Palloton was tall, well muscled, with long black hair flowing freely down to the middle of his back. He pulled it back into a neat ponytail on the days he donned a suit to be a lawyer, and on the other days he opted for jeans, T-shirt and boots, much the way everyone else dressed in Saka’am. Today, Palloton was casual. “I’d heard you were going to be the one coming out here and it...surprised me.”

  “Surprised me, too,” Jack replied. “Thought about sending someone else, but...” He shrugged. Someone else couldn’t have done what he needed to do here...to figure out how to face his past. Not to put it away, not to start a whole new life, but to face the old one.

  “Well, it’s about time you came to me. I’m the one who’s dragged myself down to Phoenix to see you, and it’s your turn to reciprocate.”

  “Trust me, this isn’t about reciprocating anything.”

  Palloton looked over at Carrie, who was busy counting doses of vaccinations. “Because of her?” he asked, his voice lowered so only Jack could hear him.

  Jack glanced across the room at Carrie, too. She was gorgeous, in such an unassuming way. He’d bet she didn’t even know it, which made her even more gorgeous. He was attracted to her. No denying that. But that was all he’d allow himself. A look. A moment to admire. Nothing else. “No. I’m not...ready for that. Don’t know if I ever will be. She just happened to be the one most available to come with me.” He didn’t have to tell Palloton that he’d switched his own schedule to match hers, hoping they could do this together.

  “You don’t deserve to spend the rest of your life alone, Wiwa. You’re paying a penance you don’t need to pay.”

  Jack, who was still focused on Carrie, shook his head. “I’m paying what I have to pay.” He looked back at Palloton. “I can’t control it. It’s what I have to do.”

  “That’s not a good way to live, my friend. Especially when you’ve got someone like her on your side.” He looked over at Carrie another time, then shook his head. “You’re missing out.”

  “My choice.” Jack sighed heavily. “My life, my decision.”

  “But are you happy with it?”

  Jack regarded Carrie once more before he began to work. He didn’t answer Palloton. What was there to say? Happiness wasn’t part of him anymore. Stray glances from afar, an infrequent wish, but not true happiness.

  After pulling several medicine vials from his pack, Jack carried them across the room to Carrie, who was trying to be unobtrusive in a room full of strangers, but not doing a very good job of it as most of the eyes in the room were on her. Everybody was probably wondering if she was the one who had replaced Evangeline. Speculations, maybe some good wishes for him. And memories. Lots of memories as everyone had loved Evangeline. She would have been here with him today, helping him set up. Organizing the queue the way Victor and Palloton were now doing. Jack was sure there were many people lining up outside who were thinking the same things. “You ready to get started?” he asked her.

  “Yep,” she said, cheerfully. “As soon as I go get Bella. So, the guy you were talking to...”

  “Best friend,” Jack said, without embellishment.

  “He’s working with us today? Is he a medic?”

  “Nope. He’s an attorney. Great climber. True advocate for the tribe. And from the looks of it, he’s setting up to handle the mobs.”

  “Mobs, really?” Carrie’s eyes went wide in amazement.

  Regardless of his glum mood, Jack laughed. Carrie was so cute...that expression of surprise on her face. The look of anticipation. She was eager to do this. Probably considered it another move forward. He liked her enthusiasm. Liked the way she just went at life with everything she had. Wished he could have some of that in himself. “Little mobs. Polite ones. Friendly ones. They’ll bring cookies and fry bread.”

  “Back in Chicago, the word mob has a different connotation. And, trust me, those mobs didn’t
bring cookies.”

  “Then, aren’t you glad you’re here, and not in Chicago?” He was. He truly was. “So, let me introduce you to Palloton, since he’s the one who’ll be sending the patients through.”

  “Not only sending them through but sorting the gifts they bring.” Palloton pointed to the several plates of cookies, the different varieties of autumn squash, the sacks of fresh-picked apples already filling up the table next to the door. “In Saka’am, even though grants through the reservation cover our medical costs, we like to pay back.” He extended his hand to Carrie. “I’m Palloton Yellowfeather, by the way. Wiwa’s oldest and, I hope, best friend.”

  “Why do you call him Wiwa? Does that have significance?”

  “It’s Salish, for wild,” Jack explained. “It was the nickname they gave me when my mother would bring me out here with her and turn me loose on the community when she was working. I wasn’t...”

  “He wasn’t the best-behaved kid in town,” Palloton said, laughing. “Which is why all the other kids liked him. He got away with the things we couldn’t.”

  “Such as?” Carrie asked, looking back and forth between the men.

  “Sneaking off to go fishing or climbing when we were supposed to be attending to chores. My mother would tell us to mow the yard or weed her vegetable garden, and the next thing you knew, we’d be scaling a rock or rafting down a river. For Wiwa, there was always something else to do. Something fun. And being the impressionable child I was...”

  “Whoa,” Jack said. “You were never impressionable. Never. In fact, when your mom told us to do something...” He glanced over at Carrie. “I was here all the time. Even when my mom wasn’t working. So I was treated as one of the locals. Assigned chores, given responsibilities suited to my age. Anyway, as I recall, every time your mom had something for us to do, you were the one who expected me to come up with a way to, let’s just call it, circumvent it.”