Where We Meet Again

by Wilson, A. M.

Shuffling comes through the line as I suspect Nathan moves. “Where are you, and who’s hurt? I’m getting in my truck now.”

  I’m glad he can’t see the blush in my cheeks. “It’s me. I’m at Arrow Creek Park by the Swinging Bridge. I twisted my ankle and can’t make the walk back.” Understatement of the century.

  Nathan laughs, the sound carrying a small amount of relief. “Why am I not surprised? You trip over air, Cam. How you manage to start an IV in the back of a moving ambulance with your coordination, I’ll never know.”

  “No, you won’t. It’s a secret.” I joke to take my mind off the pain. Knowing that help is on the way, I relax.

  “Hang tight. I’ll be there in five.”

  “Tack another ten on there for you to make the trek to the bridge.” Pain blasts through my foot at the end of the sentence, forcing my pitch higher.

  “Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?”

  I suck in air through clenched teeth and grip my lower calf with both hands, holding the phone between my ear and shoulder. “I’m okay. It just—just hurry, please.”

  His voice lowers. “Almost there.”

  We stay on the line, but neither of us speak. I imagine he’s focused on driving, while I concentrate on not crying. The sound of an engine tips my head back. “Is that you?”

  “I see the bridge. Where are you, Cam?”

  “You drove into the park? Hope you don’t get a fine on my behalf.”

  “Cami!” he barks. Mr. Calm and Collected loses his restraint when I get injured too. The depth of his concern unsettles me. “Where the hell are you?”

  “I’m down the, uh, hill. By the river.” I swallow hard and close my eyes. When I hear his truck door slam, I force them open.

  He peers down the hill. The distance shrinks his size. One hand grips his hip, and the other holds his phone to his ear. He remains silent over the line except for a single harsh exhale before the line goes dead.

  He disappears from view. I may have worried that he left, but the rumble of the truck never comes. A moment later, he jogs down the hill toward me with a medical bag in his hand.

  Nathan reaches me in record time and kneels by my feet. “Couldn’t make the walk back, huh? Did you forget to mention the climb?” His dark eyes flash to mine before he goes back to work retrieving supplies from his bag.

  I shrug. “I figured you’d realize when you got here. Ow!” He peels the top of my sock back and pain rockets through my foot.

  “Damn, that’s purple already. I’m going to just stabilize you and get you into the truck.”

  My eyes train on his face while he works. I don’t want to see the damage or I might freak out.

  He expertly secures my foot into a splint. Even though it feels tight, the stability instantly reduces the throb. “Let me see what else you have going on.”

  I swat his hands away. “I’m fine. Take me home, I can get the rest.”

  “I don’t think so. I’m taking you to the emergency room.”

  “No, you’re not.” My voice is firm, but he isn’t listening. He prepares a wet gauze and dabs one of my palms.

  “I am. If you don’t like it, I’ll call into dispatch to send you an ambulance.”

  “I’ll refuse treatment.”

  “Then I’ll tell them you hit your head and aren’t making rational decisions.”

  “They wouldn’t listen to you.”

  Nathan's eyes lift from my palm to meet my annoyed gaze. His voice lowers and softens. “I’ve been your partner for nearly a decade. You’re one of the strongest women I know. I’ve seen you stand up to men three times your size. You’ve always had my back at work and through losing Janessa. For the first time since I met you, will you let me have yours?”

  There’s something unreadable there that I would have liked more time to figure out. I know I’m being stubborn. If I had my way, I’d force him to take me home. Once there, I’d limp around and grit my teeth until I couldn’t take the pain anymore. Kiersten would have to take me in to the doctor, and I’d feel like a jerk for wasting her time.

  Accepting help is hard when I’ve taken care of myself for so long.

  “Okay.” Nathan’s relief is visible, and he cleans a cut on my temple. “Just so you know, though, if I weren’t freezing and my foot wasn’t pounding, I would have kept arguing with you.”

  He swears under his breath and sits back on his heels to remove his jacket.

  “Oh, no, Nathan. I wasn’t saying I needed that.”

  He’s done arguing too. As soon as he pulls his fleece off, he wraps it around my shoulders. “Put your arms in.”

  I study him for a moment. My foot throbs now, and anything I say will stall us getting out of here. Once my arms are in, he zips it up to my chin.

  I’ve worked with Nathan a long time, but this is the first time being surrounded by the smell of him. He’s woodsy with a hint of smoke. I bury my cold nose in the fabric near my chin and allow his residual warmth to seep into me.

  Once he packs up the supplies, he hoists his bag onto his shoulder. I hold out my hand for him to help me limp up the hill. One second I’m on the rocky ground and the next I’m in his arms.

  “Hey!” The fabric peels away from the cut on my back, sending a hot pain up my spine.

  “Shush,” he teases.

  “I meant ow,” I whimper and stick my face in his chest to hide the fresh tears.

  “Shit, Cam, what hurts?”

  “My back.” His shirt muffles my reply.

  His response comes slower. If I had to guess, he’s hiding his annoyance that I didn’t mention it sooner. “All right. Hang on, darlin’. This is easiest.” He croons gently.

  “Right.” I swallow hard and secure one arm around his shoulders. “I bet this is a cakewalk.”

  He adjusts his grip as we near the top. Hopefully, to put me down. “It would be if you quit complaining.”

  My jaw drops open to apologize, but when I cut a glance his way, I see a smirk playing on his lips.

  He makes it up the hill and loads me in the truck, all without setting me on my feet. I do my part and manage to keep my mouth shut so we can get on our way before the sun sets.

  11

  We talk little on the ten-minute drive to the E.R. I call Evelyn to explain what happened. She tells me she’s fine and capable of reheating leftover soup for dinner, which makes me secretly thankful Law bought plenty.

  Nathan zips the truck up into the drop-off zone and jogs inside. Once he’s out of view, I blow out a sigh of relief for the wheelchair he retrieves. Unlike on the trail where we were alone, we both know people here through our work. If he carries me in… well, that’s how rumors start. Rumors that would be very uncomfortable to dismiss.

  Nathan helps me into the seat and wheels me inside.

  “Oh, my dear Lord in Heaven! What in God’s name happened to you, sweetheart? Nathan, push her in here and get out of the cold.”

  Twenty pairs of eyes in the lobby swing in our direction. With an entrance like that, why wouldn’t the lobby be crammed full? Arrow Creek might be a small town, but this hospital services the entire county, and it looks to be busy tonight. Great.

  “Hey, Janet. I had a bit of a spill.”

  Nathan snorts. He pushes me toward check-in and positions the wheelchair at an angle. I can see everyone in the lobby, the three ladies at registration (all of which I know), and Nathan, who studiously avoids my gaze.

  “A spill? Honey, you look like you got into a car wreck.” Janet moves her gaze from me to Nathan.

  “A little more than a spill. She tumbled down by the Swinging Bridge. When they x-ray her ankle, make sure they double check she doesn’t have two left feet.”

  I inject heat into my glare. “For your information, I didn’t do this all on my own. If that cyclist hadn’t run me off the path, I wouldn’t have tripped over the rock that sent me down the hill.”

  They both stare at me. A muscle twitches in Nathan’s jaw. “What do you mean a cyclist
ran you off the path? You didn’t say anything about that.”

  “By the time you got there, I guess I forgot.”

  Nathan gazes out the windows across from reception and ignores me.

  “Is it a long wait? Evelyn’s home alone, and she’s been sick all week.”

  Janet leans over the desk and lowers her voice. “Getting a room ready for you right now. We’ll sneak you back in just a second.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper back.

  “All right. You two can have a seat until the nurse comes to get you. Hope your daughter is feeling better soon. Give her a hug from me.”

  “Will do.” I offer a short wave as Nathan wheels me away.

  He parks me down on the far end, away from everyone else and their germs, and sits in the seat beside the wheelchair. The way he positions us feels weirdly protective; as if anything that could come to harm me would have to go through him first. His strange behavior continues to unsettle me.

  Ten minutes later, the nurse calls for me. She’s a familiar blond woman, but I can’t remember her name. She props open the door to the triage area with her hand, but makes no move to help wheel me in. Nathan stands up, and I sigh, too tired to put up a fight. I want to have this taken care of so I can get home.

  The triage area is a bay of eight beds, each sectioned off with a solid wall on three sides and a flimsy curtain in the front. The lights are too bright and the space smells too much like that waterless antibacterial hand soap. A headache forms from the overwhelming attack on my senses. The nurse leads us to the only open room and closes the curtain behind us.

  “Climb up on the bed there, and I’ll get some vitals. My name is Annie.” She clicks around on her computer.

  Using the arms of the wheelchair, I stand on my left leg. I achieve one good hop toward the bed before Nathan’s hand clamps around my upper arm.

  “Let me help you.” His voice is low and near my ear.

  Ignoring a tingle that may or may not have happened from his voice and proximity, I let him maneuver me to the bed. He props my foot up on a pillow by the time Annie turns back around.

  “Nice splint you got there. Did you do that yourself?” She clamps a pulse oximeter on my index finger and winds a cuff around my bicep to take my blood pressure.

  “He did.” I wave my hand in a gesture to Nathan. “We’re both paramedics. I thought I’d save myself the money on an ambulance ride and called him instead.”

  She unwinds the stethoscope from her neck and separates the ear pieces. “How nice.” Her forced wide smile says she doesn’t give a shit.

  I don’t let her demeanor bother me. Just looking at the full triage bay and waiting area made me tired. She’s in for a long night.

  She records my vitals in the computer. “I’m going to let the doctor know you’re ready. She’ll be in as soon as possible.” The way she speaks implies it won’t be soon at all. The curtain swishes behind her before I can offer a thank you.

  The silence in the tiny room stretches between us, but the noises from the triage bay are loud and clear. A child screams nearby, the sound high and terrified, while a frantic parent tries to shush him or her with the promise of ice cream later. Someone else coughs in a way that makes me want to avoid whatever germs they have at all costs. A cart squeaks by my alcove, probably carrying some medical equipment or supplies to run tests on some poor soul. I can see the wheels of the cart, and shoes of the person pushing it, beneath the bottom of the curtain.

  “You don’t have to wait in here with me.”

  “You should go out with me.”

  My phone dings with a text.

  All three happen simultaneously.

  In my brain, they run together like a car crash and became a mass of jumbled words and sounds. My wide eyes swing to Nathan before I drop them to my lap and search my pocket for my phone. Option one: use the text as a distraction from Nathan’s question.

  Law: Where are you?

  I turn my phone on silent and jam it right back into my pocket where it belongs. Not dealing with that right now.

  Since option one failed, I move onto the second. Unfortunately, it isn’t the ‘run-screaming-from-the-room’ option (that would be option three, not that I can get very far on one leg). Number two is let-him-down-gently-and-salvage-the-work-relationship.

  Knowing what I need to do doesn’t make looking at him any easier. Nathan rounds the hospital bed to stand directly in front of me, forcing my attention to him. His broad body blocks the exit so effectively that I can’t even focus on the sounds outside anymore. My ears buzz in the silence. He completely obscures the world beyond the curtain, and how easily he commands my attention messes with my head.

  “Janessa’s been gone a while now, and I didn’t die along with her.” The gentle tone is for my benefit more than his own. Given the topic, it seems insulting not to meet his steady gaze.

  “We’ve known each other a long time. What I’ve seen in that amount of time, I like. A lot. Let me take you out after this.”

  “It’s too late tonight. And my foot…” I let the lame excuse hang from my lips, lingering in the air like a foul smell. One Nathan brushes away without a thought and moves in closer. His torso looms over the end of the bed, and his face nears mine. I can see the striations of black through his irises, and when he blinks, the long lashes touch his cheeks.

  “I didn’t mean tonight. Am I so bad you can’t imagine going out to dinner with me? I know this isn’t the most romantic place to ask you this, but it’s not the first time I’ve thought about asking you out. I’ve been attracted to you for a long time.” He cups my face with his firm hand, the fingertips reaching the back of my skull, and his thumb strokes my cheek. “The timing never felt right.”

  Why should I fight this? Nathan is attractive by every definition of the word. He’s the only man I’ve let into my life in a personal capacity since I moved to Arrow Creek. He’s kind and selfless, shown not only by his reactions today but also how he conducts himself on the job. He has a sense of humor, a gorgeous smile, and apparently, he smells good too. As if to punctuate the point, I lean into his hand. The move brings my nose closer to his fleece jacket I still wear. The scent has faded some, but it’s still there—woodsy and warm.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  His thumb slides from my cheek to my chin and applies pressure, tilting my head back. His eyes warm as they scan my face, and his voice comes out rough. “Maybe I can change your mind.”

  His mouth touches mine in a gentle caress. His fingers stroke through my hair as his mouth works coaxingly against mine. His lips take my bottom lip between his teeth, giving a gentle tug. Not enough to hurt, but the soft nibble sends a tingle rushing between my thighs. I moan, and that’s all the confirmation he needs to dip his tongue into my mouth.

  I don’t understand what’s happening. I’ve only kissed by two other people in my life. One I never think about, and the other, I wish I could forget. But in that moment, both memories obliterate from my mind with the soft warm press of Nathan’s lips.

  And that sends me into a frenzy.

  My palms connect with his hard chest, and I slide them up to wrap around his neck. I’ve never touched Nathan so intimately. We’ve brushed arms or bumped fists while working, and I hugged him after his wife died. Never have I wrapped my arms around him because I wanted to feel close. Do I want that now? To feel close to this man? Or will another man do, and my reaction has to do with the fact I haven’t touched anyone in a long time?

  A knock echoes against the wall, and the curtain whips back with a flourish. “Cami! What the hell happ–ˮ

  I push Nathan back and swipe at my lips. He leans back and tucks his hands into his pockets as if we weren’t just demonstrating a distinct form of mouth-to-mouth.

  “Hey, Luce. Busy night?” I appreciate him taking control, because I struggle to find my voice.

  And anything other than my vagina, which hogs my heart beat.

  “Nathan.” L
uce, formally Dr. Lucy Anderson, looks at the two of us quizzically. “Are you two together?”

  “No.” The word flies from my mouth. Nathan’s mouth tightens in disappointment, and Luce raises her eyebrows. I look to my lap as my face flushes with embarrassment.

  “Not my business. I’m going to examine your foot and possibly send you down for an x-ray. Let’s see what it looks like first.”

  She washes her hands and removes the splint Nathan applied earlier. The movement isn’t too bad until she reaches my shoe. As the tight pressure comes off, the pain in my foot roars to life, the dull throb turning into a sharp ache right around the ankle bone.

  I lean back into the pillow as Luce cuts my sock off. The skin around my swollen ankle is colored a mottled deep purple and navy blue, and will probably continue spreading. Tomorrow the damage will look even worse.

  Luce prods around. Gritting my teeth doesn’t stifle a soft whimper. Warmth covers my hand as Nathan picks it up from where it lies clenched on the bed and rubs soothing circles at the base of my palm.

  “Relax. Breathe slow,” he murmurs. I close my eyes and focus on the feel of his thumb tracing the lines near my wrist.

  “I definitely want an x-ray to be on the safe side. What else do you have going on? I see some superficial scrapes on your face.”

  I use her question as an excuse to take my hand from Nathan. She barely glances at the scrapes and looks at me questioningly.

  “Her back,” Nathan puts in. “I didn’t get a chance to check it before we got here. She forgot to mention it.”

  Luce arches a brow. “Well, roll over then. Let’s see it.”

  I roll onto my left hip, slipping one hand beneath the pillow to give me something to hold on to for the pain. “The shirt is sticking…” I trail off anxiously and close my eyes. Nathan slides to stand beside Luce.

  Cool air hits my back and pebbles my skin as she lifts my shirt. The cotton tugs against the dried blood, and she grabs saline to wet the material. The solution itself doesn’t hurt, but soaking the cut burns. Half a minute later, she lifts the shirt up. Luce remains silent. Nathan, however, is not.