by Cheryl Wyatt
She could go in and offer to stay but she was too new to actually be of help and would only be in the way.
Eagle Point didn’t currently have a cab service or she’d call one. So she called a wrecker instead.
With a groan of dread, she slammed her hood, grabbed her purse, bundled up as best she could and started walking.
It wasn’t cold enough yet that she’d freeze to death or get frostbite.
She’d just be uncomfortable...and extremely tired. It was only about a four-mile walk from the trauma center to the diner. The walk wouldn’t be pleasant, but it wouldn’t kill her, either.
She really needed things from the store before the big ice storm hit tomorrow, the main item being her emergency asthma inhaler from the store’s pharmacy. The store was closer to ten miles away though. She shouldn’t risk it.
She studied her inhaler. Still a few puffs left. That would get her through for now.
Once home, she’d just have to call a friend or neighbor to get her inhaler for her or to give her a ride. Because Olivia grew up in poverty, she hated asking for handouts, even rides.
She’d much prefer to be the one helping than the one needing help.
Lord, I’m trying not to feel sorry for myself here.
She pulled out her phone and left a message for Patrice, to see if she could get a ride. Darin had an old DUI and couldn’t drive. And Naem was probably babysitting his sister’s babies tonight, as usual. She’d call if she got too cold.
A long miserable mile down the road her teeth were chattering, darkness was closing in and her legs were stiff and sore. Hopefully Patrice would call back soon. Her muscles quivered from the cold and trying to keep her small frame warm.
And she couldn’t stop coughing and feeling bronchospasms. She’d used her inhaler but on the second pump, unfortunately, found it empty. The gauge must have been off.
The sound of a vehicle approaching echoed in the road behind her. Not comfortable riding with strangers, and embarrassed at her predicament, she tried to wave it on but the person seemed to be slowing down, probably intending to stop. She pulled her scarf away from her cheek so she could see who was pulling up beside her. She prayed it was someone she knew. She peeked.
Definitely someone she knew.
In fact, it was the last person she’d want finding her like this.
Jack Sullenberger pulled over right ahead of her...in the Ford she’d just made fun of.
* * *
Why was that woman walking at dusk in weather like this? Jack wondered. Something about her and the way she moved seemed very familiar.
Spiky tresses were tucked into a bright red beanie, stark against her black hair, and she wore matching red lipstick. Walking rapidly, she hunched her shoulders against the falling snow and dipped her head, probably to shield it from the wind.
Jack backed up so she wouldn’t have to walk so far to get to his truck. He stepped out and realized why she seemed familiar.
“Olivia,” he said, shocked. Her face was pale, her cheeks were red and her respirations were puffing out too rapidly for his liking. “What’s going on?”
“Just on my way home,” she said, voice strained...
“I see that. Why are you walking?”
She paused in front of him and pursed her lips.
Why wouldn’t she tell him? Then it dawned on him. Her car had evidently broken down. “Need a lift?” he asked as nonchalantly as possible since she seemed embarrassed.
She waved—more like waved him off, shoulders scrunched. Her breath wheezed out in white, wispy mists in front of her. “I’m fine.”
“Look, I’m going that way anyway.” A lie, but so be it.
“I’d p-prefer to walk.” She shivered and the words warbled out. She started to walk around him.
Concern caused him to step in front of her. He leaned in. Did the skin around her lips and eyes look blue? Or was that the lighting? No, her skin was pale and slightly dusky. Her breaths were coming faster and seemed shallow compared to a moment ago.
“Get in the truck, Olivia.” He really hoped she wouldn’t make him pick her up and put her in there against her will. He was half tempted to take her back to the trauma center.
She stopped and stared at him, apparently not liking being told what to do.
“Don’t test me,” he said with a heavy warning in his tone as he opened the door wider.
“Fine.” With a grunt, she let him help her in. He went to the driver’s side and got in.
After buckling up, she folded her hands stiffly in her lap and stared straight ahead.
“Thank you,” she said in a resigned voice a few moments later. Her teeth chattered and she still trembled from the cold. Or maybe from having to take a ride from him.
This would be funny if Jack weren’t so concerned about her safety out in this weather alone. He had a lecture on the tip of his tongue, but she didn’t look ready to hear it.
“Do we need to call a wrecker for your Chevy?” Jack tried not to smirk. He really did.
Because he was paying attention to traffic, he didn’t see her glare, but boy he could feel it as her head whipped around exorcist-style. “That’s not funny. And I already called a tow truck. They didn’t answer but I left a message.”
Her color was a little better now that she was inside the warmth of his truck.
He turned the heater up high, noticing the scrap of paper he’d written Perry’s number and home address on. He turned it over so she wouldn’t see it. No one needed to know he’d reached out to Perry and was trying to help him straighten out his life.
Jack hated to see a young man destroy himself with bad choices. If he could stop it, he would. Until he returned overseas, he could try to be a positive influence on Perry, who enjoyed working out and watching ball games on television. Jack had taken him to a hockey game last weekend and they’d been working out together. Perry had seemed thankful.
Olivia coughed beside him, drawing Jack from his reverie.
“You’re wheezing.”
“Asthma. It’s exercise-, cold-and stress-induced. Apparently snow-induced, as well.”
“Do you have your inhaler with you?”
“I’m embarrassed to admit I let it run out. I’d have gone to pick up the prescription if my car hadn’t broken down. I’ve been using my inhaler more than usual the past couple of months. This semester has been tough.”
He nodded, knowing she didn’t need to be scolded. “Which pharmacy?”
She faced him now, looking as though she was about to protest, but her breathing really was labored. Her shoulders relaxed in resignation. “The one in Eagle Point Grocery Mart.”
He was glad she was drifting back to the side of sense.
“Since we’re closer now to that than the trauma center, we’ll go on ahead.” Otherwise, he’d have taken her to the trauma center for an asthma treatment. At this point, it would be faster to get her inhaler from the pharmacy. If she showed any sign of worsening, he’d pull over and call an ambulance. Driving someone to the hospital in a true emergency was not wise. Her color was okay. Not ideal, but not life threatening, either. The cold must’ve given her skin that blue hue.
She shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t realize my inhaler was so low, or I’d have asked one of the doctors to give me an emergency inhaler from the EPTC pharmacy. Besides, the attack didn’t happen until about a mile down the road. Right before you came along, actually.”
He nodded, not wanting to add to her stress or increase her body’s need for oxygen.
“I understand,” he said, sensing how embarrassed she was about her unintended lapse. “Believe it or not, I’m glad to help.”
He couldn’t believe he just admitted that, but he didn’t want her out walking in the cold. In fact, it bothered him more than he cared t
o admit that she hadn’t felt she could call him for help. “Olivia, you have my cell number if you ever need help or anything. Feel free, okay?”
She grew very quiet, then shot him a quick side glance before saying softly, “Okay.”
He hoped she would. “The ice storm is going to be bad. What else do you need while we’re out? Makes sense to pick stuff up while we’re here. Anything you’d need for a week.”
“I need to pick up a few grocery-type things, if you don’t mind, before you take me home. If it’s not an inconvenience.”
“Not at all. When do you have clinical again?”
“Every other day, on weekdays. Monday, Wednesday and Friday of one week, then Tuesday and Thursday of the next week. Then class every day I don’t have clinical, except Sunday. Unless they cancel it due to inclement weather.”
“I can give you rides until you get your car fixed. I go to the trauma center to see Dad every day, anyway. It makes sense for you to simply ride with me. I usually stay a few hours in the evening, visiting with him. So I’ll just leave when your shift ends.”
There was a moment of silence and then, “Thank you.”
“I can give you rides to class, too, if you need it.”
She shook her head. “I usually do it from the computer at home. Occasionally we have to go to the college for things, but my car should be fixed by then. Speaking of that, I need the number for another tow truck. The first one didn’t call me back.”
“Call Eagle Point Wrecker Service. An old high school buddy owns it as well as a mechanic service. He’ll cut you a break on both. Tell him I told you to call him.”
“Okay. I appreciate it.” She seemed embarrassed to need help. He felt badly for her. Yet he wasn’t really keen on the idea of anyone knowing how much he really cared about people. It made him feel not in control and vulnerable.
As they drove, Olivia received a call from the pharmacy that her prescription was ready for pickup, so Jack figured she must have called it in while she was walking. Good. That would save time.
“What made you decide to be an EMT?” Jack asked, unsure whether he truly wanted to know or whether he was just trying to make conversation to help her be less on edge around him. Not to mention calming her down until she could take another dose of her asthma medication.
She explained the dream of working in trauma care that she’d had since childhood. She shared so freely that Jack used it as an in for the next thing he wanted to talk about, something he’d been wondering about for a while now. “You were going to talk to me about something personal back at the diner, one of the last times we were in the office.”
She grew quiet—he could swear he heard her walls go up. “It’s nothing, really. So, what about you? When did you know you wanted to be in the military?”
Her maneuver of changing the subject told him she no longer felt comfortable with whatever personal revelation she’d planned to tell him at the diner. He hoped she’d come around eventually, because he could tell it was really weighing on her.
He shared the how, why, where and when of his enlistment, and segued into his knowledge of trauma care. He talked about Sully and explained the different heart rhythm abnormalities. The change in her body language astonished him. She sat straighter, eagerly listening as all guardedness vanished. He realized what a great listener she was and how much of a delight she was to talk to. Moreover, he realized just how much he’d craved and missed this type of feminine companionship.
Best to change the subject and get things back on an impersonal track.
Somewhere in the mix of warm, lively conversation, he’d forgotten he was only asking to make conversation and distract her from her breathing. He couldn’t even pinpoint when he’d become genuinely interested in hearing what she had to say. It troubled him a little that it had happened so naturally and so fully. Troubled him even more that he hadn’t felt himself cross that self-drawn line until it was too late.
In the grocery store parking lot, snow crunched beneath Jack’s boots as he went around to help her out. But by the time he reached her side of the truck, she’d stepped out of it. He held her elbow to steady her on the slick surface nonetheless. She stiffened at his touch but he didn’t want her to fall.
He wished she didn’t feel she had to present such a tough image around him, but the truth was she was tough. He didn’t know many who’d work as hard as she did for an education and for a job. To the point of walking miles in the bitter cold and snow. He admired her.
Right now that was all he was willing to admit.
Jack shut the door and tightened his hold on Olivia. The wind picked up, swirling flakes in their midst. Though cold, the landscape was nicely dusted in snow. Passing the truck to grab two carts so workers would have fewer to collect, he noticed something fluttering on the front of his truck. He bent to read it, which was when Olivia turned from watching the snowfall to notice him.
“It stuck!” Olivia gasped. Then she giggled. He looked at her, too thrilled for words at the sweet and unexpected sound. He picked up the note, read FORD=Found On Road Dead and burst out laughing. Carts carving side-by-side paths in the inch of white powder, they took turns chuckling all the way to the doors. A strange sense of camaraderie connected them in the humor.
“I can’t believe that note stayed on there,” she said. “Good old bandage tape.”
“I bet you just hate this, the fact that you had to ride in the dreaded Ford.”
“I bet you just love this.” She mimicked him, with a half smile, half smirk.
His hearty chuckle became the answer, and when Olivia’s laughter joined his, a part of him realized that he’d do almost anything to hear it again.
Trouble.
That’s what she was. Trouble. A distraction from his concentration and his regimented existence and rigid plans, plans that could not be broken, not even to enjoy a lady’s company. He glanced her way and got caught up in the twinkle of dark, alluring eyes.
He swallowed and jerked his gaze away.
She grew quiet beside him and he knew she’d picked up on his backtracking.
Heading straight to the pharmacy, Olivia picked up her prescription and took a puff from her inhaler. Then they quickly gathered their groceries and the things Jack needed for the diner. He paid for it himself, to try and help get Dad caught up. Jack also put nonperishable food items in for Darin, since he’d caught glimpses of bare cabinets and an empty fridge after he’d given Darin a ride home yesterday when Naem couldn’t. Darin had apologized profusely and been embarrassed for not having any refreshments to offer Jack, even though Jack hadn’t minded. He felt badly for the guy, trying so hard for a better life.
Jack could only hope Perry would eventually do the same.
Jack and Olivia checked out and maneuvered their fully loaded carts toward Jack’s truck. The snow fell in sheets now. “Go ahead and get in,” Jack told her once they were back at his truck after starting the ignition so she’d be warm. “I’ll load the groceries.”
Surprisingly, she complied. The temperature had dropped so severely, he couldn’t be more grateful that he’d seen her along that road or she’d still likely be walking. As Jack loaded the bags, he tried not to think about what would have happened if he hadn’t come along when he did.
It was very telling of her interests and eating habits, seeing the sorts of things she bought. Mostly vegetables, then fruit, tons of cereal and butter pecan ice cream, his favorite kind. Until now, he had never met another person who ate it, especially in wintertime. The odd little commodity commonality made him feel a bit strange in terms of uniquely and unexpectedly bonding over something as silly as ice cream. He had some in his cart, too, and he’d doubted she noticed at the time. But at the truck, she’d seen it in his bag and grinned while eyeing him with a peculiar sort of winsome interest.
He’d b
e better off not thinking about it, or about how pretty her dark eyes and deep dimples were when she smiled like that. Nor how his heart rate kicked up upon seeing it.
Once in the truck and back on the road to the diner, Jack thought of the little message she’d written and then the fact that her car, rather than his, had broken down. He chuckled again when she made a mock-sour face and stuck her tongue out at him.
“How are you enjoying riding in a Ford while your Chevy is dead on the side of the road?”
He stopped at a red light, and Olivia aimed a finger at him. “Jack Sullenberger, you tell anyone, and I mean anyone, that I rode in a Ford and I’ll deny it to my death.” She was laughing by the end of the sentence and the sound of it sent another pleasant thrill through him. He’d like to hear her laugh more. That could lead to problems.
Jack realized something else that was concerning. The longer he was around her in a nonwork setting, the less they squabbled and the more she appealed to him.
He needed to focus on keeping his guard up.
He’d made it this far unaffected by her and he wanted to keep it that way. Otherwise there was no telling what might happen.
Chapter Six
“So, what’s up with Jack bringing you home last night?”
Olivia cringed at Patrice’s question, coming from behind her in their apartment kitchen. She couldn’t explain what happened last night with Jack to herself, never mind to anyone else. Not that anything had really happened.
“My car broke down and he gave me a ride is all.” She slowly turned in her chair. When she saw the bruise on Patrice’s cheek she forgot all about the question and gasped. “What happened to you?”
Patrice cuddled her coffee cup tighter and turned away from Olivia. “Nothing.”
Olivia shot out of her chair, rushed across the linoleum floor and turned Patrice around as gently as she could. “Did he hit you?” Olivia had always suspected Patrice’s boyfriend of being abusive.
Now she knew.
Patrice set her coffee mug down. Her hands were shaking.