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But she knew why her nerves were seemingly resting on the outside of her skin. Noah. There was a God, however, as she hadn’t yet encountered Noah face-to-face. But then, she’d made it a point not to see him, though it hadn’t been easy. She was lucky she hadn’t passed him in the hall, or worse, ended up sitting beside him in a staff meeting.
Of course, she hadn’t avoided him because she still cared. She didn’t. Noah had destroyed her love by his flagrant violation of her feelings. Not only that, he’d undermined her newfound trust in the opposite sex.
“Don’t do this to yourself!” Amanda whispered, taking a deep breath, which somewhat slowed her racing heart. She’d made a new life for herself. That was the key to survival.
She had found a new man.
Gordon Bishop was a woman’s dream come true, a man who knew how to love a woman, and he did love her. He was an investment broker with a fat bank account, although that wasn’t important to her. Though not wealthy, she made a good living and could do most anything she wanted, except set up her own practice. That would take megabucks, which she did not have.
The most notable and important thing about Gordon was that he not only loved her but wanted to marry her. Although she didn’t love him like he loved her, a fact she hadn’t kept a secret because she was unwilling to be anything other than up-front, she nevertheless wanted to take that leap of faith and marry him.
She was scared, admitting that Noah’s cavalier desertion of her had left deep scars. Gordon, however, was as different from Noah as daylight from dark. She knew she could trust Gordon beyond all doubt. And that trust did not come easy. It hadn’t then and didn’t now. Her tumultuous upbringing had seen to that.
Amanda sighed, hating the fact that she continued to beat up on herself, asking instead why she didn’t rush back to the ER where her mind and emotions would be focused on her patients and their needs.
Nothing doing. She didn’t move. The past held her down, insisting on resurrecting itself. Instead of Noah and that cold, foreign look in his eyes, she saw her mother’s empty, angry ones. Tears gathered in Amanda’s eyes, almost blinding her.
Funny, she didn’t realize she had any more tears to cry.
When it came to her childhood, she guessed there would always be tears along with baggage that she couldn’t drop. Even as much as she’d loved Noah, there had been moments when her mother’s brutal words still haunted her.
“That son of a bitch is gone,” her mother had told her five minutes before she was to catch the school bus.
Her six-year-old mind had grappled to understand what Mary Jennings had meant. “You mean Daddy?”
“Yes, ‘Daddy,’” she mimicked with a sneer.
“Where…where’s he gone to?” Amanda stammered, her eyes wide and innocent.
“How the hell should I know?” Her mother’s features twisted into an ugly frown. “What I do know is that he’s not gittin’ back in this house.”
“Oh, Mama, no,” Amanda cried, clutching her satchel against her chest. “Daddy has to come back. He just has to.”
“You stop that whining, you hear me, or I’ll take a belt to your backside.”
“Mama!”
“He’s gone! He ain’t never coming back. He’s a no-good drunk who told me this morning he didn’t want you or me.”
“But he loves me!”
Mary made an unladylike snort. “He don’t love you. He don’t love either one of us, never has, never will.”
Amanda choked back her sobs.
“Hush that up. You might as well learn right now that you can’t trust men. They’re a sorry lot, and they want women for only one thing.”
“But, Mama—”
The school bus arrived at that moment, and the driver honked the horn, ruthlessly ending that conversation. But Mary Jennings was right—Amanda’s daddy never returned home.
Though her mother continued to harp on the untrustworthiness of men, she couldn’t seem to stay away from them. During the remaining years of Amanda’s childhood, both parents married numerous times. She had several brothers and sisters—some were half siblings, the others were step—and the brunt of raising three of them had fallen to her.
Amanda shuddered, recalling the years that had followed, years that had exposed her to unnecessary heartache and made her grow up much faster than she should have.
She’d had no one to depend on but herself. Only through working night and day, along with the help of scholarships, had she been able to reach her dream of becoming a doctor.
And despite her dysfunctional family life and the emotional distrust of men, she was a damn good doctor. She would put her skills up against anyone and come out just fine.
As to her birth parents—they were no longer a burden. They were both dead, having died within a year of each other—her mother from cancer and her daddy from a cerebral hemorrhage. She had been in medical school, away from them and her extended family, whom she now saw only on special occasions as they all lived in various states.
Virtually, she was alone. No, Amanda corrected herself mentally. She wasn’t alone. She had Gordon. Suddenly assured that hearing his voice would get her mind back on track, she grabbed her cell phone on her desk and dialed his number.
“Yo,” she said.
“Yo, yourself,” Gordon countered with a chuckle.
In her mind’s eye, she could see him sitting at his desk, his appearance as disorganized as the papers surrounding him. Although dedicated to his job, he was not a workaholic as she was, which was good. In the event she gave in and married him, they would make a compatible team.
Marrying another doctor would’ve been a mistake.
“Hey, you still there?” Gordon asked.
“Sorry. I just had a free minute and wanted to hear your voice.”
“That’s nice, but are you sure everything’s okay? You sound sort of down.”
“It’s the weather,” she lied, then felt bad. “Actually, I’ve been taking a trip down memory lane. As you well know, that’s taboo.”
“What you need is some time away from that hospital. I hate you being there during this horrible weather. In fact, we shouldn’t even be talking on the phone.”
“Does that even apply to cell phones?”
He chuckled. “Who knows. Maybe you could leave now. You promised to cook me some of your lasagna the first chance you get.”
That had also been Noah’s favorite. She clutched the phone in a deathlike grip. It was in that moment that the loudest boom of thunder yet rocked the entire building, then plunged it into complete darkness.
Jeez Louise! That was all they needed—to lose power. But she knew it was a fact when she heard the whine of the emergency generator crank to life.
“Gordon, got to go. Power’s out.”
Hanging up, she fled the lounge and headed toward ER, knowing all hell was about to break loose.
* * *
“Damn!”
Noah’s phone was going crazy, but then so was his mother. They were facing each other at the back of the dark chapel like adversaries who were out for blood instead of blood-related.
His cell phone rang again, seemingly louder than ever, though he was surprised he could hear it above the pandemonium inside the chapel caused by both his announcement and the now-evident power failure, and the horrendous weather outside.
“Turn that thing off!” Melissa demanded, her blue eyes as cold as slivers of ice.
Noah controlled his temper, though just barely. At any given moment, it could erupt. If anyone knew how to push his buttons, it was his mother, who was as mad as she was upset.
“Look, I have to go.”
“Go?” Melissa’s voice had reached screeching level. “What do you mean, go? You can’t just walk off and leave me alone to clean up your sister’s mess.” She turned to look at the wedding crowd. “What about all those people?”
“They’ll go home.”
“How can you be so…so cavalier?”
“I’m not.”
She sniffed. “Yes, you are.”
“Dammit, Mother, I don’t have any choice. I’m on call at the hospital, and people’s lives depend on me.”
“What about your sister’s?”
His mouth turned down. “Come on, Mother. I doubt her life’s at stake.”
“Get someone else to cover for you.” Melissa’s tone was as haughty as her posture.
“I can’t. Besides, in this weather, I’ll be doing well if I can get there myself.”
“Your sister’s missing, for God’s sake,” Melissa responded, though now in a whiny, cajoling tone. “Surely she’s more important than your job.”
Noah didn’t bother to address that, knowing that his mother was selfish, a fact that would never change no matter what he said or did. “Have you ever thought that Randi disappeared because she wanted to?”
Melissa shook her head. “Why, that’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. She loves Hal, and besides that, she wouldn’t do this to me. Something’s happened. I just know it.” She wrung her hands. “And Hal, where is he?”
“How the hell do I know?”
“Don’t you dare use that tone with me!” Melissa’s eyes flashed. “Randi and I are your responsibility. You have to help Hal find her.”
Noah’s phone squealed again.
“I have to go.” When his mother would have interrupted, he added, “Look, I’m just as concerned about Randi as you are. But right now, I’m going to Vanderbilt.”
“But—”
His tone softened. “Hal’s here somewhere. Find him. He’ll know what to do. You stay put, and I’ll be in touch.” Noah leaned over and pecked her on the cheek. “Buck up, Randi’s going to be just fine and so are you.”
“Noah Howell!”
“Again, I’ll be in touch.”
Some time later, Noah raced through the doors of the emergency room, and, as he expected, the hospital was not only swamped, but chaos reigned. Phones were ringing. The skeleton staff was rushing around. And the emergency generator was acting like it didn’t want to work. If that son of a bitch went out…
Someone screamed in pain. In spite of himself, Noah winced. Times like this made him wish he’d chosen another profession, which was a lie, he told himself. Mending broken bodies was his specialty, and, though it was hard, he couldn’t think of anything else he’d rather do. Professionally, he was a savior.
Personally, he was one big screwup.
“Thank God you’re here, Noah,” Bethany Kent, an ER nurse said, her voice sounding strained to the max.
“Where to first?”
“Trauma two. It’s Friday night and two teenagers from a car accident were just wheeled in.”
“I need backup,” Noah said in a clipped tone. “Call Malcom Riley. Tell him to get here STAT.”
Bethany took double steps to keep up with him. “I’ve already tried, and I couldn’t get through.”
“Damn,” Noah said, his jaw knotted. “I’ll just have to do the best I can.”
“Well, you’re not here alone, thank goodness.”
“Considering this weather, that’s a miracle.” Noah never slowed down. “So who’s on staff this weekend?”
Bethany didn’t have to tell him. He looked up just as Amanda rounded the corner.
He stopped in his tracks, and so did she. For a split second, their eyes met. A pregnant silence that spoke volumes followed.
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Then he cleared his throat and whispered, “Hello, Amanda.”
Chapter Five
Noah wanted to kick someone, mostly himself.
Dammit, he hated being blindsided. That was exactly what had happened. Amanda. In the flesh. And looking lovelier than he’d ever seen her. He hadn’t expected this encounter, at least not tonight. But hell, he shouldn’t have been surprised. It had been more than a good possibility that she’d be on duty, even without the present crisis. After all, ER was her bailiwick.
Still, he had assumed that when this meeting occurred, it would be on his terms. So much for control, he thought, again mentally kicking his backside.
Although he didn’t take time to register the changes in her appearance, he knew his mind would later recall every detail. For now, he had to rally past the venom radiating from her crystal blue eyes, eyes that never failed to make him want to know what lurked behind them.
That hadn’t changed.
He cursed silently, just as she said in a terse tone, “Let’s get busy. We have work to do.”
Okay. Two could play that game. If she wanted to pretend they were strangers, that was fine. Besides, her strategy was best: two doctors working to save a patient’s life. In this case, there were two lives at stake.
“I’m right behind you,” Noah said in his own no-nonsense voice, having already assessed the situation in the trauma room.
Nurses Bethany Kent and Liz Roberts were busy working on the wreck victims, a boy and a girl, dressed in their Friday night finery. But there was no celebrating at this moment. The youth was moaning and the girl was crying. Both appeared critical and in pain.
“Were there only two in the car?” Amanda asked.
“Yes, Doctor,” Liz responded. “At least, in this car.”
“What does that—”
“Her pulse is dropping rapidly!” Liz said to Noah, chopping off his sentence.
But it was Amanda who answered her. “Give her five cc’s of Demerol. Then call surgery and tell them she’s on her way up. She’s bleeding internally.”
“What about the boy?” Noah asked, moving to him, then looking at Amanda, who stood on the other side of the gurney.
“His pulse is stable, and it appears his wounds are superficial, but we’ll know more when we get him cleaned up.”
“Let’s just hope you’re right.” Noah’s lips stretched into a thin line. “You’d think these kids would know better than to drink and drive on a night like this.”
Amanda shook her head. “It seems they never learn.”
“Anything I can do?”
Both Noah and Amanda looked up as Karen Sloane hurried through the door, her face pinched with concern. Noah knew why; she had an eight-year-old daughter who could one day be lying on a stretcher in the same shape as these teenagers.
“My God, what happened?” Karen asked, her gaze springing from one teenager to the other.
“Looks like they tried to take on a tree and lost. But then, I’m just guessing.”
Amanda looked up and focused on Karen. “Since things are covered in here, could you speak to the police officers? I presume they’re standing by.”
Blood, combined with the smell of alcohol, permeated the room. Noah’s stomach roiled at the stupidity of such actions, especially on a night like this. But it wasn’t his job to be judgmental—it was his job to repair the damage.
“Anything else?” Karen asked.
“Yes,” Amanda said. “Have someone notify their parents. Now.”
Karen turned on her heels and sped out of the room, just as the lights flickered.
Everyone in the room seemed to freeze.
“Dammit, if that generator fails—” Noah’s eyes focused on the light fixtures, as if daring them to blink again.
“Don’t even think about that,” Amanda said in a rushed tone. “If it happens, we’ll deal with it then.”
Always the practical, unflappable Amanda, Noah reminded himself, except in bed. Damn! That thought had hit him out of the blue, which not only shocked him but made him madder than hell. Now was not the time to think about anything other than the young lives hanging in the balance.
“So what’s your call on him, Amanda?” Noah’s tone was hard and low.
“Get some CT scans.”
“Go for it.”
“Dr. Howell! The girl’s crashing.”
“Dammit,” Noah whispered, then barked more orders before adding, “Come on, let’s get her up to surgery.”
“Good luck,” he heard Amanda say as he and Liz left the room.
An hour later, Noah peeled off his bloody gloves and greens, then walked into the waiting room. A middle-aged couple stood and made their way toward him, as if in slow motion.
The petite, dark-haired woman, whose eyes were filled with unshed tears, was the spitting image of her daughter, or she had been until the accident.
“We’re the Colliers, Doctor,” the man said, holding out his hand to Noah.
“Our daughter, Laura, is she—” Mrs. Collier’s voice faded into sobs.
Her husband circled her shoulders and drew her close to his side, but his gaze never left Noah.
“I won’t try and soft-pedal the seriousness of the situation, Mrs. Collier. At the moment, she’s critical but stable. For now, that’s the best we can hope for.”
“Oh, God,” she cried, slumping against her husband.
Noah gestured toward the couch. “Let’s sit down, then we’ll talk.”
“Is Laura going to die?” Mr. Collier asked once they were seated.
Noah sat on the edge of the chair. “I’m sorry, but I can’t make that call. She has a lot of internal bleeding and numerous broken bones.”
“May we see her?”
Noah stood. “Of course. I’ll arrange it.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” Mr. Collier sighed. “I suppose the police will want to see us.”
“I would think so,” Noah said. Hoping to temper the stark, ugly reality, he added, “Remember, I’ll be around if you need me.”
He turned and made his way to his office, slamming the door behind him. He’d be lucky if he had five minutes to get a grip on himself. Already, he could hear another siren wail. Any second now, he’d be called again.
Meanwhile, he had to quell the urge to put his fist through one of the flimsy walls, venting his frustration. Some tragedies were unavoidable. But the accident involving those young people wasn’t one of them.
If Laura Collier made it through the night, she’d be one fortunate girl. More than likely she would not. Noah ground his teeth together while he rubbed the back of his neck, thinking about the devastation mirrored on the Colliers’ faces. God, he could identify with that kind of pain, and it wasn’t something he’d wish on his worst enemy.
With his thoughts veering into forbidden territory, he squeezed the back of his neck as though physical pain would obliterate the mental pain pounding his head.
The cot looked inviting as he forced his gaze onto something tangible. He was beat, but he’d have to forget about sleep and depend on coffee to keep him going. Anyway, who was he trying to kid? He could lie down, all right, but sleep would elude him; his demons would have a field day.
“Damn,” he muttered, hating it when he felt his control slipping. Peering at his watch, he hoped his mother was still at the lodge. In fact, he hoped she spent the night there, if they had the room. He hated the thought of her being on the road in this weather.
Unfortunately, he never knew which way Melissa was going to jump. One moment, she was a clinging vine who couldn’t do anything for herself. The next, she was as obstinate and unmovable as a block of cement. His father, who had died last year, had petted Melissa, encouraged her dependency.
Albert Howell, on his deathbed, had said, “Son, promise me my girls will never want for anything as long as you’re alive.”
His voice and body had been so weak from lying incapacitated for months with a dysfunctional heart, Noah had barely understood him.
“Dad—”
Albert’s clawlike fingers had clutched his arm, his eyes glazed with fear and pain. “Promise me.”
“Of course I’ll take care of them. You know that.”
Shortly after Noah had made that promise, his father had passed away. His mother, however, had made his good intentions difficult. She could be a royal pain in the butt with her penchant for living the good life, having put pressure for years on Albert to give her “things” when his job as a mechanic didn’t warrant that life-style.
Noah, to some extent, had continued to indulge his mother and his sister monetarily. That way he could remain aloof emotionally. Still, he cared deeply about them both.
Thinking about Randi jerked the knot in his stomach tighter. Where the hell had she gone? He had to believe she simply couldn’t handle marrying Hal and took off. But then again, where could she disappear to on this horrible night? He tried her phone again. Straight to voicemail.
Taking such a bold move was not like Randi. Now, if he, Noah, had pulled that stunt, no one would’ve been surprised. While he considered himself responsible—had to be when he held a scalpel in his hand—he was a gambler who wasn’t afraid to take chances.
Randi was not like that. His domineering and manipulative mother knew how to pull his sister’s chain and did it quite often, despite the fact that Randi was no social climber and was constantly torn between pleasing her mother and pleasing herself.
Noah refused to be put on that hot seat, which drove Melissa to distraction. And yet he loved his mother and would do what he could for her, short of letting her dominate him.
He shifted his gaze to his phone, his gut telling him he should check in with Melissa to see if Randi had been found. He was both worried and annoyed that she’d pulled such a stunt. Regardless of the situation between Randi and his mother, Melissa didn’t deserve this kind of treatment.
Perhaps he should return to the lodge. But he couldn’t. Hell, he was the only surgeon in the building, and he wouldn’t be surprised if that young wreck victim didn’t require a second surgery.
Still, Noah felt torn between his family and his job, something that didn’t set well with him. Something else that didn’t set well with him was having to work with Amanda.
Noah pulled a long face. Damn, she’d been uptight. No, she’d been downright hostile. Even now, he could feel the hostility stab him.
“What did you expect, Howell,” he grumbled out loud, “a hug around the neck?” Sure thing, he thought with a laugh that held no mirth. She’d like nothing better than to squash him like a poisonous varmint. And well she should. Whatever she dished out, he had coming.
However, that environment didn’t bode well for their working together. But who had a choice? They certainly didn’t, not when the entire town threatened to capsize under so much water and a damn blackout to boot, thereby creating a situation where other surgeons couldn’t get to the hospital.
Still, the bottom line was that seeing Amanda had been an unexpected kick in the gut. What they had between them was dead. He’d seen to that, and he’d thought he’d made peace with that conclusion. But when she’d looked at him as though he wasn’t there, it had needled him.
And her perfume. God, he’d smelled it, and his senses had gone wild. It was the same scent that had never failed to turn him on, especially when he’d known he would soon taste its bittersweetness on her skin.
“Man, get a grip,” Noah spat out, his rough voice bouncing off the walls.
What was done was done. Or was it? That question punched him in the gut again, especially as she still had the power to stir him sexually. Though he was ashamed to admit it, he’d reacted immediately, thankful that his baggy greens had hidden the bulge underneath.
When he’d first taken serious note of Amanda, he had been in a relationship, though not a serious one—at least not from his standpoint. Immediately, he had ended the affair and begun seeing Amanda, having fallen hard and fast, especially in light of her indifference to him, something that hadn’t been the norm.
He’d ached to find out what lurked behind Amanda’s secretive eyes and explore the delights of her dynamite body. And he had. For the first time in his life, he’d fallen in love. Then the bottom dropped out of his world, forcing him to walk out on Amanda and his commitment to her without an explanation.
He had no regrets on that score. He had been trying to protect her. It had been imperative that she hate him so that she could go on with her life, for there had been no way out for him.
That hadn’t changed, at least not for him and Amanda. His phone rang, interrupting his thought. This was the only time he was grateful for this storm. There was still cell service—for the moment. He took a deep breath and thanked God for small favors.
Work was his panacea.
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