After rescuing Brandon, Finn and his men had proceeded toward the ranch. That’s when they intercepted the second employee of McCoy’s, Miles. The letter sealed the case, and they stormed the house and made their arrests.
It wasn’t just perfect timing for the sake of the case. It was perfect timing for both Lorraine and Brandon. If Finn hadn’t pulled off the operation, their lives could have turned out very differently.
Beyond feeling forever indebted to the bravery and compassion that Finn Oakley had shown her, Lorraine felt confident that it was all a sign from God.
She had never quite resolved the flutter of excitement she felt in her heart when she was around Finn, and once he’d saved the lives of her and her son, those feelings only grew.
Finn Oakley didn’t need to stick around Tombstone anymore… His assignment was completed, and it was time to move on to the next job. But Finn was tired… Exacting justice on outlaws and smugglers was tiring work, and he had grown rather fond of his quiet life as a shopkeeper in Tombstone.
So he decided to make the position permanent, to trade in his badge for the shopkeeper apron he wore at Hartley’s General Merchandise Store.
Lorraine was secretly thrilled. The decision meant that she got to see a lot more of Finn Oakley.
It started out as a friendship, and then one day he nervously asked for permission to court her. She had accepted, of course, and Finn was so relieved that he immediately confessed that he had fallen madly in love with her the very moment they met, the moment she had fainted, and he had rescued her from the crowded town square. Lorraine had smiled, realizing that deep down, she felt the same way.
During their three-month courtship, Lorraine felt a happiness she had never known was possible. She fell utterly in love with Finn, with his warm smiles, with the gentle patience he had for Brandon, and with the immeasurable feeling of safety that she felt whenever he was around, like nothing bad could happen to her, because he was her protector.
They were married in the spring. Brandon walked his mother down the church aisle, and she wore a delicate gown of lace that Mrs. Rogers had insisted on purchasing for her.
The entire town of Tombstone turned out to witness the marriage of the town hero and his beautiful bride. Lorraine felt tears of joy well in her eyes as she approached the altar and Finn took her delicate hand in his.
They said their vows before God, and then they shared their first kiss as husband and wife. When their lips met, Lorraine felt a flutter of magic fill her entire body.
The Rogers arranged for a celebration afterwards, tables loaded with food and treats, and plenty of nectar drops for Brandon.
Everyone was merry. The joy and love that glowed on the faces of Lorraine and Finn was contagious.
And from then on, everything was blissfully perfect.
THE END
17. THE TARGETED BRIDE
Copyright © Hope Sinclair 2018
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher and writer except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a contemporary work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
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Table of Contents
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ONE
Rose Mills sat peacefully at her desk, reviewing the papers before her. It was a slow day at work. But, in Rose’s profession, that was a good thing. It meant that people were doing well, and that there was no tragedy, trauma, or epidemic plaguing the community.
“Good morning, Rose,” Dr. Simmons said, walking toward Rose’s workstation.
“Good morning,” Rose replied, glancing up from her paperwork. “I’ve just finishing looking over the nightshift’s notes, and it appears Mrs. Johnson should be able to go home today—pending your approval, of course.”
Dr. Simmons reached down and took the paperwork from Rose’s desk. He scanned it quickly, perhaps hastily, then grabbed a pen and scribbled his name across the bottommost sheet of notes.
“If you say so,” the doctor grinned. “I trust your opinion on such matters as much as I trust my own. So, if you say Mrs. Johnson is ready to go home, she might as well collect her things and leave.”
Dr. Simmons handed the paperwork back to Rose, and Rose smiled at him appreciatively. She’d been working as a nurse at Johns Hopkins Hospital for over a year now and was one of the institution’s most diligent, trustworthy employees, but she still felt quite honored and grateful whenever her superiors praised her work or professional value.
“Thank you,” Rose replied. “I’ll deliver the good news to Mrs. Johnson in a few minutes.”
Rose took care of a few more things at her desk before getting up, straightening her uniform, and going to Mrs. Johnson’s room.
“Ah, Rose!” Mrs. Johnson boomed as Rose walked in. “I hope you’re here to tell me something good! Is there cake on the lunch menu today? A handsome new doctor roaming the halls?”
Rose shook her head and laughed. “What I have to tell you is even better,” she answered. “Dr. Simmons signed your release papers. You’re cleared to leave today.”
“Finally!” the older woman cheered, sitting up in her bed. “I tell ya’, I came here to get cured of my leg pains, but I was really starting to get sick of this place.”
Rose found herself laughing again. “Well, if you’re sick of this place, it’s best you stay away,” she advised in a more serious tone. “Try to stay off your feet, and don’t push yourself so hard. You’re not a young woman anymore, you know.”
“I definitely know that,” Mrs. Johnson chuckled. “I’ll be 62 next month, and my body simply can’t keep up with my mind anymore. But, oh, how I wish it could! I was quite the active woman in my day. I worked hard, served my family well, and frequently volunteered with the church—and, I had a wonderful social life too. I went to so many parties and weddings, I could barely keep track of them at one point.”
Rose smiled and nodded as she went about the room collecting Mrs. Johnson’s things.
“I do remember your parents’ wedding, however,” Mrs. Johnson added, bowing her head while lamenting.
Rose felt a familiar pain in her chest, and she looked over at her patient, who was also a longtime family friend.
“They were such a lovely couple,” Mrs. Johnson added with a heavy sigh and heavy heart. “I was so sad when the fever claimed your mother a decade ago, and just as sad when your father perished in the fire at the meat packaging plant three years back. They both died too young.”
The pain in Rose’s chest was soothed, a bit, by Mrs. Johnson’s kind words.
“But, rest assured, child,” Mrs. Johnson went on, “their time on this earth was well spent. They raised a splendid daughter in you, and they’d be proud of who you are and all you have achieved. You are a sweet, thoughtful person, and you’re very intelligent, dedicated, and accomplished.
“While many a young woman would’ve let her losses get the better of her, you did not. You stayed strong and pursued your dreams and used what meager inheritance your father left you to fund your education and become a nurse. And, what a nurse you are!”
Rose couldn’t help but blush. Indeed, life hadn’t been easy for her, and she’d managed to overcome many obstacles. But, nevertheless, she was humble by nature, and her modesty made her cheeks glow and kept Mrs. Johnson’s flattery from going to her head.
“I love my job,”
Rose noted, bringing Mrs. Johnson’s things over to her. “I’ve long believed it my calling to help others and care for the sick, and I feel very blessed that I’ve been able to answer that calling.”
Mrs. Johnson smiled at Rose and began packing her things. “But what about your other calling?” the older woman asked, looking up from her bag and raising her eyebrows.
“My other calling?” Rose asked curiously, raising her eyebrows as well.
“Your calling as a woman,” Mrs. Johnson clarified. “If my math is correct, you’re 21 years old now. But, I don’t see a ring on your finger, and there isn’t any gossip around town of you seeing anyone… But, surely, just as you heard a calling to help and care for others, you’ve heard a calling to help and care for yourself; a calling to find a companion, get married, and, perhaps, have children? If you want to live a happy, full life, you’ll have to answer that call too.”
Rose was blushing again. However, this time, it was for entirely different reasons.
“Well, to be honest,” Rose hedged, “I have heard such a calling… And, sure enough, I’ve answered it.”
“Do tell!” Mrs. Johnson insisted, widening her eyes.
“I met a wonderful man several months ago, and we’ve decided to get married,” Rose explained. “But, he recently suffered some major setbacks in his work and personal life, and we’ve decided to wait until those things are straightened out before starting our life together.”
“Ah, what wonderful news!” Mrs. Johnson replied, beaming. “I mean, it’s wonderful news as far as your plans to wed. As per the setbacks he’s endured, that’s quite unfortunate—and I hope he irons out his problems soon… Who is this man, by the way? Do I know him?”
“No,” Rose answered. “He isn’t from Baltimore. He’s a rancher out West. We met through the—”
Just then, before Rose could get another word out, a loud ringing sounded in the hallway, and Rose recognized the noise all too well.
“Oh heavens!” Rose exclaimed, swiftly switching subjects. “That’s the emergency bell. It means we’ve received an emergency patient, or patients… I’m sorry, but I must leave you now and go—”
“I understand,” Mrs. Johnson interrupted, sensing the urgency in Rose’s voice. “You’re needed elsewhere. Be on your way!”
Rose smiled and nodded at her longtime family friend, then ran out of the room without so much as another word.
TWO
Rose rushed down the hallway toward the entrance of the hospital, where a few other members of the staff were huddled around two people who’d just been brought in.
“What’s going on?” she shouted, moving closer to them.
“We have two victims of a robbery—a male and a female. Both were stabbed,” Dr. Simmons answered, leaning over to further examine the patients he just described.
Rose made her way to the group and struggled to view the victims over Dr. Simmons’s broad form.
“The female’s wounds are very deep in her gut, and could be critical,” the doctor went on. “I’ll need her on my operating room right away to assess the damage and, possibly see if I can repair her organs.”
Dr. Simmons went on to issue detailed instructions to another nurse and an orderly, then turned to Rose.
“I wish you could assist me in the operating room,” he said. “But, right now, I’m the only physician on this floor, and you are my most skilled nurse… So, while I’m off tending to this woman, I need you to care for the man. His wound is a superficial chest wound, and isn’t nearly as threatening as hers. But, it’ll have to be taken care of immediately and stitched up, so that he doesn’t lose more blood. Can you handle that?”
“Of course,” Rose replied without pause, though her words went unheard. Dr. Simmons already knew she was more than capable of the task, and he didn’t need to wait for her reply.
Now that the crowd at the entrance had thinned out, Rose was able to better appraise the male patient. The first thing she noticed was his face. He was a very plain-looking man—neither handsome nor ugly—but his plain features were contorted into a very pained expression. His lips were curled into a snarl, and his eyes were squeezed tightly shut. He was also sweating profusely, and mumbling profanities.
The next thing Rose noticed was the man’s attire. He wore a heavy, dark ensemble that she immediately recognized as a policeman’s uniform. The midsection of that uniform, however, was torn, and it was much darker than the rest, obviously saturated by the blood weeping out of his wound.
Rose stepped closer to the man and reached out her hand.
“My name is Rose Mills,” she said in a firm, yet friendly voice, placing her hand on his arm. “I am a nurse at this hospital, and I’ll be taking you back to one of the rooms to care for your wound.”
The moment Rose touched the man, he opened his eyes—and, in an instant, the pained expression on his face morphed into something much softer.
“Hello, Rose,” he said, smiling an uncanny smile. His eyes twinkled with a brightness Rose had never seen before.
“I’m Officer Andrew Meyer, with the Baltimore City Police,” he added, staring at her intently. “And, I’d be very pleased to have you care for me.”
There was something strange about the way the officer was speaking and acting. But, Rose shrugged it off. In her line of work, she often encountered people who said and did otherwise “strange” things. People who were injured or ill were frequently in a state of shock, where their fear for their wellbeing caused them to act differently than they normally would.
“Take him back to Room 4 and remove his coat and upper garments,” Rose told one of the orderlies. “I’ll get everything I need and be there promptly.”
Rose quickly collected what she needed, then ran to Room 4, where the police officer, Andrew, was laid out on the bed, bare-chested. He smiled another uncanny smile when Rose entered.
Rose walked over to assess Andrew’s injury, and he heaved his chest to make his muscles bulge. His wound was a gnarly one, and the way he’d made his muscles bulge caused it to bleed more and gape at its seams.
“Relax your muscles,” Rose said. “When you tighten them like that, it only makes your wound worse and harder for me to treat.”
“I’m sorry,” Andrew replied. “I guess it was instinct. I work hard to keep my body in shape, and I’m proud of how big my muscles are. Aren’t you impressed by them?”
Rose took a deep breath and sighed. She found Andrew’s question absurd. First and foremost, she wasn’t there to gawk at his form. And, secondly, even if she was, it wasn’t the most impressive she’d seen.
“You’ve done a good job keeping your body fit,” Rose answered, reached for a bottle of antiseptic. “Now, let me do my job and tend to your medical needs.”
Andrew’s eyes twinkled at Rose’s words, and he took them for more than they meant.
That twinkling look faded, however, once Rose poured antiseptic on Andrew’s wound.
“Good God!” the officer explains. “That stings!”
Rose smiled and apologized under her breath as she went on cleaning the wound, and Andrew continued to wince every now and then.
“I’m quite lucky to have you as my nurse,” Andrew remarked as Rose carefully cleaned his chest with gauze.
“You’re quite beautiful and gentle. You’re like an angel, a cherub, at my side… I bet you’re just as graceful in other things. Tell me, do you like to dance?”
Rose ignored Andrew’s question. His wound was deeper than it initially appeared, and she was trying to figure out how best to tend to it.
“I asked you a question,” Andrew barked after a moment of silence. There was a harshness to his voice that caught Rose off guard. “Do you like to dance?” he repeated, articulating each word.
“No,” Rose answered, afraid to ignore him again. She was lying, but she figured her lie might stop him from pressing on. But, unfortunately, it did not.
“Perhaps you’ve never danced with the rig
ht partner,” Andrew replied, speaking calmly again. “I, for one, am a wonderful dancer, and I enjoy it a great deal. Maybe if you and I were to dance, I could change your opinion.”
Rose forced a fake smile across her face as she appraised her medical tools.
“Or, if you have an aversion to dancing,” Andrew went on, “there are plenty of other activities we could enjoy together. I’m a skilled fisherman. So, perhaps you could join me at the bay and cook up whatever I catch.”
Rose was starting to feel very uncomfortable. Though she was used to patients acting strangely under the pressure of their illnesses or injuries, she was not used to them acting like this. Andrew was being a bit too forward and presumptuous in his comments, and he was treating their encounter not like a necessary medical one, but, rather, like a social one.
Andrew continued to ramble for a few more minutes, citing other activities he would like to share with Rose—and, with each thing he said, Rose became more and more uncomfortable, to the point that it was interfering with her performance of her job.
When it came time to stitch Andrew’s wound, Rose made a split-second decision. Given how he’d whined and winced when she applied the antiseptic—and, given how he was talking, incessantly, about inappropriate things—she decided to sedate him in order to proceed. Granted, sedating someone in order to give them stitches wasn’t standard protocol, but she found it necessary in this case.
Rose grabbed a vial of ether and a mask from her medical kit. She applied a few drops of the substance to the mask, then brought it to Andrew’s face. “Breath slowly and inhale these fumes,” she told him. “They’ll help ease the pain and make it easier for me to stitch your wound.”
“But, I don’t need anything to ease the pain, and I want to be awake to enjoy your company,” Andrew protested.
New Beginnings Spring 20 Book Box Set Page 74
