by C. M. Albert
IT GUTTED ZADE to see the pain etched on Rosalie’s face during the service. He couldn’t help but wonder how hard it must be for her to feel everybody else’s emotions in addition to her own—which is how Rosalie explained her “gift” of being an empath as they drove back to his place after the service. Although she’d learned over the years how to detach herself when the feelings weren’t hers, it never stopped the initial onslaught of emotions from rushing over her like a tidal wave.
“Are you sure I can’t get you anything?” Zade asked as Rosalie crumpled to the floor and leaned her back against the base of his leather couch. Her lips lifted into a half smile and her whole demeanor changed when Kismet found her way onto her lap, vibrating louder than Brecken’s motorcycle.
“Maybe just some water,” she said, stroking the kitten’s soft fur. Zade hated to admit it, but he was already hooked on the little fuzz ball. He was hooked on her momma, too.
Zade had no sooner crashed onto the couch behind Rosalie than his pager went off. He checked the hospital’s messaging app and stood quickly. “Shit,” he said, running his hand through his hair. “I gotta go to the hospital, Rosalie. They’ve moved one of my surgeries up. It wasn’t supposed to be until tomorrow. I’m so sorry.”
“That’s okay,” she said, though she looked disappointed. It was only natural, and one of the hardest things for spouses of doctors to get used to. “I’ll walk out with you,” she said.
“Please, don’t,” he answered, grabbing his bag as he leaned over to kiss her goodbye. She was leaving Arden’s Glen in a few days, and he wanted every moment he could get with her before then. “My sister’s bringing food, and I’m sure she’d love the company.”
Rosalie nodded, her eyes filling with tears as they had on the way home from the difficult service. His heart felt battered and torn—screaming at him to stay and comfort her. But the surgery was critical, and if they’d had to move it up, his patient couldn’t wait.
He just prayed Rosalie would.
He could already feel her disappearing like that mirage he couldn’t quite reach, and he didn’t like it one bit.
WHEN ZADE GOT to the hospital, they were already prepping Annalise for surgery. She’d been breathing fine on her own now, but they’d lost hope of saving her lower right leg. LuLu had pushed to do everything to keep it the day of the accident, but it was obvious that the leg below her knee was never going to heal fully, and it was starting to jeopardize her overall health and recovery. Because Annalise was now able to make her own medical decisions, and she passed the hospital’s pre-operative assessment, they needed to act quickly before they risked losing any more of the leg.
The surgery took several hours, but Annalise did well; it helped that youth was on her side. By the time Zade finished his standard post-op procedures, showered, and changed, it was getting dark out. He quickly texted his sister, who assured him that she’d fed Rosalie a late lunch and that, as far as she knew, she was still at the condo waiting for Zade to get home.
He texted Rosalie next, but got no response. He needed to take a breather after the stressful day he’d had. Between the memorial service that morning, and having to amputate a twenty-three-year-old’s leg, he was emotionally spent and needed a moment to collect himself before returning home.
Home.
He walked around the town center, stretching his legs and trying to clear his mind. He was able to successfully put the surgery aside, but his mind was consumed with thoughts of Rosalie. He loved his condo, and he loved his job, but the idea of finally putting down roots and building a life with someone was all he could think about.
No, not with just someone—with the one.
With Rosalie.
He hadn’t realized how far he’d walked, but when he heard a sudden noise, he jerked his head up, realizing where he was for the first time. Shit! He’d walked nearly eight blocks away from the town’s center and was now far from the hospital and his condo. He recognized the street, though—it held a vet’s office, a physical therapy center, and a yoga studio. He was just imaging what Rosalie might look like doing downward dog when he heard another sound. This time it was a little clearer, and he made out two different voices, both gravely and strained. They were low, though, the words barely reaching Zade’s ears. But it was enough to set off warning bells. Arden’s Glen didn’t have a lot of crime, but it was continuing to grow, and new people brought new problems.
“Hello?” he called out, rounding the corner of the vet’s office. He gasped when he saw a crumpled form he recognized leaning against the white brick wall. “Put him down now,” Zade growled.
A thick-necked, distinguished looking man he didn’t recognize turned and looked at him with dead eyes, the kind that made Zade wonder if he even had a mother. “Fuck you say?” the man asked, his words giving away his true character more than the spit-polished black oxfords. “Get the fuck out of here.”
“See, I can’t do that,” Zade said calmly, pulling his hands from his pockets. If he was going to have to fight, he wanted to be ready.
The man sneered at Zade and punched the hunched-over figure in the stomach one more time—hard—before dropping him to the cement. He straightened his large frame and adjusted his silk tie as if it were any other day and he wasn’t in an alleyway beating the crap out of someone.
“Get me my fucking money,” he said and spat next to the prone figure lying on the gravel. “Or next time, I’m sending someone else to finish this conversation for good.”
The man looked up and had no qualms about meeting Zade’s eyes. He tried to memorize as many details about him as he could for the police report, but he didn’t move a muscle. He noted the small scar on his left temple, and the dark tattoo climbing from the collar of his dress shirt like a poisonous vine.
The thug grinned at Zade, a quick flash of silver catching his attention. His lips lifted into a menacing smirk as he kicked the prone man once more for good measure and headed down the small alleyway before disappearing around the corner. When Zade was sure the man was really gone, he pulled out his phone and bent down. He needed to call for help and make sure Rosalie’s brother was still breathing.
“No,” Brecken wheezed. “No cops.”
“Damn it, Brecken,” Zade said, exasperated, “what have you gotten yourself into?”
“Nothing I can’t handle. Just help me up.”
Zade cursed as he lifted Brecken to his feet and supported him with his shoulder so he could stand.
“Fuck!” Brecken hissed as he tried to get his balance.
“We need to get you into the hospital, even if you won’t let me call the cops.”
“No hospital. No cops. I just got a good warning. Nothing’s broken. Just,” he winced as he bent over again, “sore. Really fucking sore.”
“How’d you get here?” Zade asked, looking around.
He followed Brecken’s gaze over to a beat-up Ford pickup truck. “Give me the keys,” Zade said.
“I can drive myself home just fine,” Brecken snarled. “I don’t need your help.”
Zade let go of Brecken and watched as he fell back against the white brick wall, nearly collapsing to his knees again. It was a hard point to make, but one he wasn’t giving on.
“Fine,” Brecken clipped out as he tossed Zade his keys. “Not a fucking word to Rosalie though—I mean it.”
“Can’t promise that, Brecken. I will not lie to her, ever.”
Brecken seemed to consider his words, but he let Zade hoist him into the truck. Brecken groaned, leaning back against the cracked leather seat, not bothering with a seat belt. As soon as Zade climbed in the driver’s side, he reached over and yanked the seat belt across Brecken’s chest and clipped it in, flinching when Rosalie’s brother reached out and punched the closed door beside him. Zade heard a sickening thunk and wanted to bash Brecken’s head in for the stupidity of adding one more injury to the list.
As he turned the engine, appreciating the loud rumble that greeted him, he
realized he needed to figure out a way to get home without alarming Rosalie. He quickly texted Zada, and thanked his lucky stars when his sister texted back immediately. That was one benefit of living so close to one another—especially since they had no other family around.
“What do you have against me anyway?” Zade asked.
“She hasn’t told you about what happened in high school yet?” Brecken asked.
Zade shook his head. He kept his eyes on the road and his fingers clenched around the steering wheel, suspecting he wasn’t going to like where this was headed.
“Let’s just say I have a reason to distrust older men around my baby sister and leave it at that. You want more, ask Rosalie.”
“Look, man, I know you’re just being protective. I get it. I have a little sister too—”
“No, you have a younger sister, by what—a year? I have a little sister. And she’s too young for you, doctor.”
“What the hell do you have against me being a doctor?” he lashed out.
“Look, it’s nothing personal. But she’s been hurt before by a man in a position of power—and that’s exactly what you are. What’s gonna happen when you realize Rosalie doesn’t fit in to your perfect little life, in your swanky, upscale condo, and hanging out with your snobby country club friends? What then?”
“First of all, Arden’s Glen doesn’t even have a country club, asshole. Second of all, you don’t know my intentions or where I come from. So why don’t you ask before making assumptions? Because I worked my ass off to get through college and medical school. I didn’t get any of this handed to me, Brecken. I would think you’d respect that, given your own history.”
Zade clenched his jaw as he pulled the truck into Brecken’s driveway, bringing it all the way to the back near the detached garage. He let the truck idle for a moment before turning in his seat.
“I don’t think I’m the one who needs a warning about Rosalie, Brecken. You bring that kind of trouble anywhere near her or this house, I will personally beat your ass myself.”
He got out of the truck and slammed the door so hard the side mirrors shook. Then he walked around and opened the passenger door for Brecken. He was pissed at the man, but he wasn’t an asshole. Zade supported Brecken’s arm over his own shoulder as he lowered him from the truck and helped him walk into the house. They used the back door so they wouldn’t have to walk up all the steps that were on the front porch.
For being so small, the house was tidy and charming, though Zade suspected the two hadn’t done much in way of renovating since their parents died. His breath hitched when they walked by Rosalie’s bedroom, the door ajar. Inside was one of the most hauntingly beautiful, abstract paintings he’d ever seen. It was of a woman’s face, though every aspect of her was created by parts of nature. It reminded him of Rosalie—a wild but soft force of nature with more to her than meets the eye.
“Did Rosalie paint this?” he asked in awe.
Brecken grunted when Zade lowered him to the couch. “Yeah, though she won’t let me sell any of them. She could make a fortune off her art.”
Zade walked to the kitchen and grabbed a bag of peas, some Motrin that was on the counter, and a glass of water, then headed back into the small living room.
“Peas, doctor? Is that what you give all your patients?”
“Hardly,” Zade scoffed. “My patients are smarter than this and would make their way to the hospital.”
“Touché,” said Brecken, sliding the bag of peas onto his forehead as he sunk into the ancient sofa.
“That’s my ride,” Zade said, seeing the lights of his convertible coming up the long drive. “I don’t owe you an explanation, Brecken, because Rosalie’s old enough to make her own decisions. But I’ll have you know I’m in love with your sister. And I’m not going away. So maybe it’s time we figure something out for her sake.”
Brecken groaned from the couch, but didn’t say anything right away. By the time Zade reached the front door, he heard Brecken shifting, trying to sit up. “You know she’s leaving town Friday, right? It’s not even going to matter after tonight anyway. But thanks for the help, Dr. Z. I could’ve handled Murphey on my own, but I appreciate not taking another round of hits.”
Zade chuckled. Brecken was stubborn all right. But Zade was even more so.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Brecken. She may be leaving Arden’s Glen this week, but there’s no amount of distance that could erase her from my heart.”
Zade walked out the door and was about to close it behind him when he heard Brecken call out. “You’re all right after all, Zampogna.”
That was about as good as they were gonna get, and Zade couldn’t help but smile as he hopped in his waiting car and sped home toward the best thing that had ever happened to him.
TO SAY ZADA was like a force all her own was an understatement. That afternoon she’d whirled into Zade’s condo, as comfortable as if it were her own. She unloaded enough food for a small army, pulling out containers of Greek salad, hummus and pita slices, and huge chunks of fresh fruit. Rosalie wished she had an appetite, but her stomach was in knots. Still, she let Zade’s sister dish her up a plate and joined her at the large, hand-carved dining room table. The soft cloth seat reminded Rosalie of their differences, and it only felt more so when she glanced up at the crystal chandelier that she’d recently confirmed did, in fact, cost more than her car.
“So, I bet you’re glad Zade didn’t accept that job offer,” Zada said, shoving a forkful of lettuce into her mouth.
Rosalie nearly choked on the water she was swallowing. Somehow, she managed to get the liquid down and recover semi-gracefully. When she met Zada’s green eyes, she saw the shock register when she realized that Rosalie hadn’t known anything about a job offer.
“S-sorry,” she said quietly. “I thought you knew about that.”
Rosalie stroked Kismet’s back, the little kitten purring as she sat content on her lap. “No, it never came up,” she said. “But, honestly, we haven’t known each other that long, so why would it have?”
Zada put her fork down, smoothing out the cloth napkin on her lap. “Maybe because time doesn’t matter, and it’s evident you care about each other?”
Rosalie shrugged, trying not to feel hurt. She didn’t understand why it even bothered her, since she was leaving herself anyway. But in the few short weeks that she and Zade had been spending so much time together, she thought they’d shared most everything with one another, especially at night when she was texting him and could be a little braver. So far, he’d accepted every part of her, never judging her or her past. She’d never had that kind of complete acceptance before, and she was starting to enjoy it.
She let out a hefty sigh. She had no legs to stand on. There were a few important things she hadn’t told him yet either, and she was sure they would be a deal breaker.
She glanced across the table at Zada. They’d been casual friends at the hospital before Rosalie met Zade. But they weren’t that close, and she wasn’t sure how much his sister would dish out about the situation.
Oh well. Can’t hurt to ask.
“So, what was the job offer?”
“Maybe Zade should tell you about this,” Zada replied, popping a piece of pineapple in her mouth.
“Or maybe you could fill me in? Since he didn’t?”
Zada looked torn, but caved. “Fine. His old job in Texas offered him the chief surgeon position, over all of general surgery in the ER. It was something Zade had been wanting for a long time, so I was a little surprised he turned it down. I’d also been hoping to have a reason to move back to a big city again, because I certainly would have followed him there.”
“You guys seem close,” Rosalie commented.
“We are,” Zada said, grinning. “Irish twins.”
“Did he say why he didn’t take the job?”
Zada shook her head, her sleek brown hair swishing against her shoulders as she did. “I was hoping maybe he’d told you why. Bu
t it doesn’t really matter anyway. What’s done is done—he already turned the offer down, so they gave it to their second choice. My guess is he realized how much of a difference he can actually make in our small hospital here. The ER in Dallas was nonstop busy, and I think Zade liked that hectic pace. But they need him here even more. Especially when accidents happen like the one with Jerry and Andrew.”
“And Annalise,” Rosalie whispered.
“Did you know her then?”
“A little,” Rosalie admitted. “We went to school together, but weren’t exactly friendly. We ran in different crowds.”
Zada smiled sympathetically. “I remember those days. It’s so funny how all the things I thought were important in middle school and high school aren’t even a blip on my radar anymore.”
Zada’s words made Rosalie consider her own situation. Was she still carrying too much of her past around with her? She’d worked hard with Celeste to heal the things that were holding her back, and she’d grown so much in the short time since she’d known her. But maybe there was some truth to Zada’s comment. What happened with Annalise was long in the past, and they were different people now, even if her once best friend had still been a little catty when they’d bumped into each other in LuLu’s restroom.
It didn’t matter though. Rosalie was nowhere near the same insecure girl who needed to sleep with a married teacher to get attention. She shuddered at the thought. So why did she still have such a hard time trusting people?
“So,” Zada said as they cleared the table together, “how in the world did you ever convince my brother to take care of your cat?”
Rosalie snickered. “I just brought it over in a box and left it here.”
Zada laughed. “Well, that’s one way to do it. You do realize he’s smitten with you, right? I’ve seen my brother date plenty of women, but he’s different with you.”