Washed Away

by Carol Marinelli

  “You really care about them, don’t you.” She realized her words might have sounded patronizing again, but Noah just smiled, finally closing the curtain.

  “They’re easy to love. No matter what you’ve done, what sort of day you’ve had, they treat you the same. As long as you love them, they just keep right on loving you back. Come on. I’ll lock up the dogs and then I’ll get you set up—”

  “Aren’t they staying with us?”

  Noah shook his head. “They’ll be safer locked up.”

  “Can I help?”

  “You just rest.” Leading the way to the clinic, he called over his shoulder, “You’ll be okay on your own, won’t you?”

  It was more a statement than a question, and given her attitude before, Cheryl could forgive him the assumption. Under any other circumstance, she’d have nodded to his back, would have lied through her teeth and given an easy “sure.” But she didn’t want to be on her own now. The intensity of the storm was increasing with every passing moment, and Cheryl took a deep breath, not quite sure she was ready to admit that right now she didn’t feel so brave.

  “I’d rather come with you.”

  He turned and simply nodded, holding out his hand and leading the way in the darkness, through the narrow passage from the house to the attached clinic.

  Even though the backup generator didn’t allow for bright lights, after the inky darkness of the house, seeing the subdued glow of the clinic was like stepping into the sun after being in a movie theater all afternoon. But as Cheryl’s eyes slowly adjusted, she felt herself smile. The wind was still audible, but thanks to the newer, more solid structure of the clinic, it was far quieter here than it had been in the house. “It really is like Noah’s ark in here!” she exclaimed.

  “I’m not usually quite this full,” Noah admitted, whistling to Madge, who obediently climbed into her cage. He had to wrestle a touch harder with Cheryl’s faithful friend. “Close, but not quite.”

  It felt familiar.

  She couldn’t explain it, but somehow, the neatly organized shelves, the shining silver carts and waiting machines soothed her.

  “You’re well set up here.”

  “I need to be,” Noah said, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully as he watched her slowly work the room. “I’m the only veterinarian for miles. I have to be able to do everything from claw clipping to major surgery. There’s an operating room through there.” He gestured to a black swing door. “The studio apartment is in the room behind.”

  “Why do you need one?”

  “In case there’s a really sick animal, it’s easier to just crash here.” He registered her tiny frown. “I’m not talking about guinea pigs with colds, Cheryl. Some of the animals I treat are worth tens of thousands of dollars. For the most part I visit them on the farm or ranch, but every now and then we do some pretty big procedures here. Now,” he said, giving her a smile, “I’ll show you the Penthouse Suite.”

  “This place is huge!” Cheryl exclaimed as he pushed open the doors and led her into a massive concrete enclosure that she could liken only to some sort of shed cum stable with massive roller doors. It was empty now, except for an enclosure in the corner surrounded with lamps.

  “Heat lamps,” Noah explained, heading over. “Piglets can lose heat rapidly.”

  Cheryl held back and with good reason. The grunts coming from the enclosure were not exactly friendly.

  “Oh, good girl!” Noah crooned.

  From the unveiled tenderness in his voice, Cheryl knew he wasn’t talking to her.

  “She’s had them?” Cheryl asked. “Without any help?”

  “She’s a pig.” Noah grinned. “And pigs don’t know how to use a call button.”

  “Still…”

  “She isn’t finished yet.” Noah gestured her over. “Come and watch.”

  Curious despite herself, Cheryl inched forward, staring in something akin to horror at the massive black creature lying panting on the floor.

  “Isn’t she gorgeous?”

  “I can think of a few other words to describe her,” Cheryl mumbled. “Are you this close to all your patients?”

  “She’s not a patient, she’s a houseguest,” Noah objected. “Aren’t you, Mabel.”

  But as Cheryl edged closer and peered down into the pen, she felt herself melt. Rows of little tails wagged as the piglets suckled, giving out tiny yelps of frustration when they lost a teat then found it again. “They’re gorgeous!” Cheryl breathed. “Just exquisite.”

  “But they grow into that!” Noah said dryly, pointing to Mabel. “And that’s what people conveniently forget when they decide they want a cute piglet for a pet. Mabel was dumped on me a few weeks ago, and now I’m going to be stuck finding a home for all her little piglets.”

  “You’re not going to have them slaughtered, are you?”

  “Not with a surname like Arkin.” Noah grinned, but he’d lost his audience now.

  “Oh, my God, there’s another one coming.”

  “Watch!” Noah said quietly. “They hit the ground running, these little guys. No sooner are they out than they’re looking for food. See how the firstborns take the front teats and the later ones the rear. They’ll use the same teat to suckle on….”

  “Really?” She was enthralled now, totally oblivious for a blissful moment to the impending storm, but Noah soon dragged her back to that reality.

  “Come on, we’d better go in.”

  “We can’t just leave her,” Cheryl protested. “There might be more to come.”

  “There are more to come,” Noah corrected, “but she’s doing fine on her own. It’s the first one that normally causes the problem.”

  “What sort of problem?” Cheryl asked.

  “They get stuck.”

  “And what do you do to…” Pulling a pained face, Cheryl shook her head. “I don’t think I want you to answer that one. Do you have an assistant, a nurse?” she asked as they headed back into the clinic.

  Noah nodded as he set to work, dishing out meds and filling up water bowls as Cheryl wandered around the room “Yeah,” he said, “but not for much longer. She just gave me her notice. Her name’s Carly. She comes in three mornings a week for planned surgery and I call on her for emergencies. She’s great, but unfortunately she doesn’t run to night shifts, hence the apartment.”

  “So she’s leaving?”

  “Yep! She gets married next month, and she just told me that she’s going to be moving to Corpus Christi. It’ll be hard without her.”

  “You’ll get someone else,” Cheryl responded without really thinking.

  “Yeah. I’ve got to start looking, once we get through this crisis.”

  “I recognize this, Noah.” Cheryl gestured around the room at the lights over the examining table, the monitors, the ventilator, the oxygen tanks and the drug cart. “It all looks familiar.”

  “You recognized the sutures, too,” Noah pointed out, “You must have some sort of medical background. Maybe you are a veterinary nurse after all.” He smiled. “Maybe you really are the answer to all my prayers.”

  “So the little lady couldn’t possibly be a veterinarian?” she teased, but Noah just smiled.

  “Even better.”

  He pulled back then, and Cheryl felt it. Pulled back not physically but mentally, flipped the conversation back to casual.

  “There’s no doubt I’ll be able to use a skilled pair of hands for a few days once this storm passes.”

  And even though he was right to keep things casual, Cheryl felt a hollow sadness as she looked away.

  “Maybe I’ve got Munchausen’s syndrome,” she sighed. “Maybe I’m just a raving hypochondriac drifting from town to town.”

  “Cheryl, don’t.” Noah’s voice was firm. “The fact you’ve even heard of Munchausen’s syndrome proves you probably do have a medical background. It’s not exactly a term on the tip of everyone’s tongue. Do you know what it actually means?”

  She nodded slowly. “Peo
ple who make up symptoms, doctor-shop for drugs and treatments, even operations, when there’s nothing really wrong with them.”

  “See.” Noah nodded, but Cheryl remained unconvinced.

  “How would you know that without some sort of medical background?”

  “I guess.” Cheryl thought for a moment. “I think you’ve just lost your vet, then.”

  “Not necessarily!” A delicious, lazy smile dusted his lips. “Your skills may still come in handy. Have you heard of Munchausen’s by proxy?”

  “Where people make up stories that their children are sick, to get attention?” Cheryl nodded. “I don’t think it’s anything to smile about.”

  “It isn’t,” Noah agreed. “But can you believe there’s such a thing as Munchausen’s by proxy for pets!” He looked at her disbelieving expression and laughed. “I’m serious. There’s been quite a bit of research done on it recently. People vet-shopping, making up symptoms….”

  “No way!” Cheryl grinned back, amazed.

  “It’s true. Stick around long enough and I’ll show you some research on it.” His voice petered out then. His toe had inched over the line he’d drawn in the sand and he was pulling it back. When he finally spoke again, he’d adopted a more formal tone. “It will all come back soon. I’m betting you’re a warm, wonderful, loving woman who’s probably got a whole family waiting for her, a score of people who love her.”

  Noah was trying to comfort her, but the thought of another man holding her, loving her, had his stomach churning.

  “So what am I doing here, then?” Her eyes darkened in terror, fear creeping into that proud, strong voice. “Why am I in a town where no one knows me?”

  It would have been easier to not breathe than to stop himself from pulling her into his arms, to hold her for just one more moment, to bury his face in that long dark hair and just hold her awhile.

  “It will be okay, Cheryl. Whatever, whoever you are, it will all be okay.”

  If only he could believe his own words, he thought. It hurt to let her go, physically hurt to finally, gently push her away.

  Noah walked around, making one final check on his animals, talking in low, reassuring tones, unclipping the cages and offering a soothing hand to those who were most distressed. But as Cheryl wandered around her eyes were drawn to two terrified ones. Unlike the other animals, who were making their fear loudly known, this poor creature was shivering in a large cage on the floor, her whole body trembling with terror.

  “Georgina.” In an instant, Cheryl was down on the floor, fiddling with the latch.

  “Watch out,” Noah warned. “She’s so scared she’s likely to take a bite out of you.”

  “You wouldn’t do that, would you, Georgina,” Cheryl said comfortingly, ignoring his advice. Once the door opened, she slipped her hand in and gently stroked the frightened animal. “You’re a real lady, Noah told me, and ladies don’t bite.”

  Noah watched as she soothed the animal, one hand instinctively working the head, while the other gently stroked the length of Georgina’s quivering body. He had known he was right to believe in her. Cheryl couldn’t hurt a fly, let alone an innocent animal.

  “Let’s go and get something to eat,” he said.

  Cheryl sat back on her heels as Noah pushed Georgina back from the door and closed the cage.

  “She’s terrified, Noah.”

  “They all are,” Noah said, “and we’re probably making things worse by disturbing them. That’s why we should head into the apartment. They sense our nervousness, too. They’re safe, they’re warm and they’ve got food, music and one another.”

  Cheryl nodded and let him help her to her feet, but her eyes lingered on the shivering Georgina. “Shouldn’t she be with us?” she asked, “I mean, given that she thinks she’s a human and everything.”

  He hadn’t wanted her to say that. Life would be so much less complicated if she had just stood up and flicked that delicious hair, walked toward the door without glancing back.

  Why did she have to be the one?

  And she was the one; Noah just knew it.

  He hadn’t believed it till now. Hadn’t believed there was one person out in that big wide world who quite simply could walk into your life and turn it around, who could make you feel whole with one lazy smile, one gentle touch, but he believed it now.

  But he couldn’t let her in, couldn’t let her sneak into his heart only to have her leave. He’d had a glimpse of paradise. He’d held her in his arms, kissed her, adored her for a moment, but if he lingered any longer, Noah knew his heart would be lost to her forever.

  “What about your obsessive-compulsive disorder?” Noah said, attempting a grin, trying to keep his voice nonchalant.

  “I guess I could make a concession.” Those velvet eyes met his. “We can’t leave her here, Noah. She’ll have a coronary. You said she was heading for another one.”

  “There’s a hurricane due to make landfall,” Noah said firmly, taking charge, slamming mental doors shut just as fast as he could. “Now’s not the time to bend the rules.”

  And they both knew he wasn’t talking about just the animals.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “YUM.” Cheryl didn’t hesitate when Noah unscrewed the thermos and offered her some more soup. “That’s the best chicken soup I’ve ever tasted.”

  “Can’t beat homemade,” Noah agreed. “This was down payment for a lumpectomy on a goat.”

  “Double yum.” Cheryl grimaced. “Do a lot of your clients pay you in food?”

  “Thankfully.” Noah nodded. “There aren’t many fast-food outlets in Turning Point. If it weren’t for the endless casseroles, eggs and soups, I’d be living on instant noodles.”

  They were making small talk and Cheryl knew it. Both were trying to ignore the fact that practically the only thing in the room, apart from a computer, a kettle, a miniature horse that had finally been admitted and a toaster, was the vast double bed they were sitting on, and they had the longest night of their lives to get through. A thick skylight, one of several in the clinic, was above the bed, and though Noah had assured her it was built to withstand even the fiercest of storms, Cheryl wasn’t entirely convinced, and glanced up anxiously every now and then. The portable radio had long since given up playing soothing music between news bulletins and weather reports. Instead, the airwaves were filled with urgent reports of flooding, buildings collapsing, trees blocking roads…lives on the line.

  “We’re safe here, Cheryl,” Noah said for what must have been the hundredth time. “It was built to withstand—”

  “I know,” Cheryl interrupted. “And I know we’re probably in the safest place in Turning Point, but tell me, just how many hurricanes have you sat out in here, Noah?”

  There wasn’t a shred of reassurance in his lack of response.

  “Why couldn’t you just have lied and said loads?” Cheryl moaned. “Why the hell did you and Mitch have to go and be proven right?” Her startled eyes met his. “Mitch! Mitch was worried that the storm was heading this way, that the predictions were wrong.”

  “I told you that,” Noah reminded her gently.

  She ran a tongue over lips that were suddenly dry, trying to catch the thought that had been in her mind, but it was like trying to recall a dream. It stayed tantalizingly out of reach.

  “But I can remember it. I can remember Mitch saying…”

  “Cheryl,” Noah broke in gently, “you’re confusing things. When you first came to, I told you that Mitch and I were feeling uneasy about the storm.”

  “This is my memory, Noah.” She was almost shouting, imploring him to be quiet as she struggled for recall. “He was worried…” She stared up at Noah, detecting sympathy in his expression. “He was worried about his daughter.”

  “Jolene.” Noah’s hands were on her arms now, willing her to go on. “His daughter’s name is Jolene.”

  “I don’t know—I don’t know her name. I just know that Mitch was worried because he’d sent her
out there.”

  “We should call…” Noah didn’t finish the sentence, the futility of his words hitting home. The lines were down, and even if the cell phone towers were working, he had lost his when he’d dived in to save her. And he wanted to know, needed to know almost as much as Cheryl who she was, where she was from, the people that were in her life. Only then could he know if there was room for him. “You have to be one of the medical staff from California, Cheryl.”

  His excitement was infectious and Cheryl nodded back, hoping he was right. “Tell me everything, Noah. Tell me everything you know.”

  “I have.”

  “Everything, Noah, the color of my Jeep. You said I was buying chocolate….”

  “Lots of chocolate.” Noah smiled at the memory. “And don’t forget the postcards!”

  “What was I like? What did you think of me?” His hands were still on her, holding her, the contact of his skin on her bare upper arms a scorching reminder of what had taken place back in the house. The same thought must have registered with Noah, because suddenly he was letting go, easing back a bit before finally facing her.

  “You were…” Noah swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, not sure how to play things here. How could he tell her the truth? That the second he saw her he was enthralled. That in the hours that followed, till he dived in that river and saw that it was her trapped in the van, she had filled his mind, impinged on his every thought. “You stood apart,” he said carefully. “There was a lineup and you were in front of me. Bill had one basket in the place, and you’d taken it and filled it with chocolate. He offered for me to go first. He normally does for his regulars if they’re just buying gas and the customer in front has a lot—”

  “And you weren’t.”

  Noah shook his head. “I jumped the line and you snapped.”

  “So what did you do?”