Maisey shook her head. “I seriously doubt it.”
Violet spun around in her chair. Maisey’s voice didn’t sound too good. “What do you mean?” She had a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“I’m sorry, Violet.”
Violet reached out and grabbed her sleeve as she tried to walk away. “What do you mean, you’re sorry? Why have I to go the boardroom?”
Maisey couldn’t look her in the eye. “It’s the director. Along with Evan Hunter. I think Evan’s complained about the deadline you didn’t meet—the report he’s been waiting four days for.”
Violet’s heart started to thud in her chest. “But that’s what I’m working on.” She held up the crumpled piece of paper.
Maisey shook her head. “I’m sorry, Violet. The director said he wanted to see you straight away.”
Violet stood up, trying to ignore the tremor in her legs.
Rats. She’d known she was treading on thin ice when she hadn’t had the report ready for Evan on time.
The truth was she had been hoping he would forget all about it now they had a final diagnosis of monkeypox. Sawyer should be the last thing on his mind right now.
She scrabbled around her desk for the report she’d been writing. Not only was it very late, she’d also left the details scarce. It would hardly placate the director.
Was he about to fire her?
Was she about to get fired because she’d tried to cover for her brother?
Her heart pounded as she crossed the department on her way to the boardroom. At this rate she would be sick all over the director’s shoes.
The boardroom—where all official business was carried out.
One thing was sure—if she was going down, she was taking Evan Hunter with her. Let Evan see what the director thought about the boss cavorting with his staff.
* * *
All heads turned towards her. Callie’s heart was racing, sweat lashing off her brow and running down her back.
Sawyer stepped into her line of vision, blocking the view of Jack and the rest of the staff. It took her a second to focus.
“Callie. Calm down.”
Her skin was prickling. The scar on her leg itching like crazy. Her head flicking back between Ben’s fearful face on the bed behind her and Sawyer’s wide frame standing in front of her.
Everything seemed to be spiraling out of her control. She didn’t feel in charge any more. “We can’t stop. We can’t. It’s not been long enough.” She was shaking her head. This wasn’t even her area of expertise. What did she know about resuscitating a child? The last time she’d been involved in a pediatric resuscitation she’d been a first-year resident. It had made her realize that pediatrics wasn’t for her.
“Callie.” His hands were firmly on her shoulders now. “Step away from this. It’s under control.”
That’s when she lost it even more. “You think this is under control? Under control? How? How is this under control? Is this part of the plan?”
She moved closer to Sawyer and hissed in his ear, “If Jack’s about to die, you need to tell his family. You need to give them a chance to say goodbye.” Her eyes drifted back to the bed behind her. “You need to give Ben a chance to say goodbye. He should get to hold his brother’s hand.”
She was feeling frantic. She couldn’t let this happen. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t a pediatrician. She was the doctor in charge of this outbreak so, at the end of the day, everyone should be doing what she told them.
Sawyer reached up and stroked her cheek. The action took her by surprise. It brought her instantly back to the here and now. “Callie, Dan’s not stopping. He’s only waiting for a few seconds to recheck the cardiac monitor—to see if Jack’s heart rhythm has changed. Think, Callie. We always do this at arrests. Don’t we?”
His voice was quiet, only loud enough for her to hear. Not that the rest of the staff were bothering. Most were still round Jack’s bed, assisting with the arrest. Another nurse had appeared at Ben’s side and was sitting with her arm around him, talking in his ear.
Ben.
He was terrified. He was crying. He was asking the nurse questions. Callie felt herself start to shake.
“We’ve got a rhythm!”
Both their heads turned towards the shout. Dan had just defibrillated Jack’s little chest again and the monitor had given a little blip. Dan started shouting more instructions for different drugs. The room was a hive of activity. IV’s were being hung and Mr. and Mrs. Keating had been gowned up and were being shown into the room.
Callie was trembling. She couldn’t stop herself.
Then a warm hand slipped into hers and pulled her out of the room, walking her along the corridor and sitting her down in an easy chair. A cold drink was pressed into her hands and Sawyer sat in the chair opposite her.
He didn’t say a word. He just sat.
The cold juice slid down her throat. The intense itch in her leg increased. She was clawing at her leg and couldn’t stop. He bent over, his hand capturing hers and stopping her scratching. His head was underneath hers and he looked up at her. “Want to tell me what just happened in there?”
She felt her throat constrict. “I don’t think I can.”
He sat back in his chair. She could tell he was contemplating what to do next. What on earth must he be thinking of her?
His gaze was steady. It felt as if he was looking deep inside her. Somewhere she didn’t want him to go. “It’s time, Callie. Tell me about your scar.”
She took a sharp breath. How did he know? How did he know there was a connection?
She laid her palm flat on her thigh. The desire to scratch was overwhelming. but she knew it was all psychological. No matter how hard she scratched, it wouldn’t stop the itch. She’d just end up breaking her skin and drawing blood.
“I was in a car accident.” She didn’t know where the words had come from. It almost felt as if someone else had said them. But it was definitely her voice.
“How long ago?” It was a measured question. A prompt. It was almost as if he knew she just couldn’t come out and tell him everything at once—it would be too painful.
“I was twenty-three.”
“Were you badly injured?”
She took a deep breath. Although the scar was a permanent reminder, for the most part Callie had pushed all memories of her injuries aside.
Physical injuries could heal. Psychological injuries not so much.
“I had a fractured femur and tib and fib. Fractured ribs too.”
“Wow. You must have had to take some time out of medical school.”
“Only a few weeks. I became their first official online student. They recorded lectures for me and sent me notes. I did my assignments online for a couple of months.”
It almost gave the game away and she could see the calculating expression on his face. Her professors had gone above and beyond their responsibilities and he had to be wondering why. Most medical schools would have told a seriously injured student to take time off, recuperate and come back the following year.
His gaze remained steady. It was obvious that he’d figured things out. “Who else was in the car, Callie?”
She was instantly on the defensive. “What makes you think someone else was in the car?”
“Who else was in the car, Callie?”
He’d just repeated the question. There was no fooling Sawyer.
Her throat was instantly dry again and her voice cracked. “My sister, Isabel.”
He moved forward and took her hands again. “Isabel. What a beautiful name. Tell me about your sister, Callie.” Again he was surprising her. He wasn’t hitting her with a barrage of questions, he was just giving her an open invitation to talk.
“I can’t,” she whispered, as
a single tear slid down her cheek. This was just too hard.
He reached up and caught it in his fingertips. “Yes, you can.”
* * *
Everything had just changed color for Sawyer. He already knew her sister must be dead. The look on her face had said it all and the hairs currently standing on end at the back of his neck agreed.
He could see how much she was struggling. He could tell she wanted to run from the room like a frightened rabbit. She’d barely been able to get the words out.
A sister. Callie had a sister. Or she’d had a sister.
Now he understood her reaction when she’d heard about Violet. Now he understood why she’d been so angry with him. If she’d lost a sister and felt as if he’d abandoned his...well, her reaction was entirely normal.
“Isabel was a year older than me. She was at medical school too. She wanted to work at the DPA.”
“Did you?” Things were starting to fall into place for him. This was behind the reaction in the chapel earlier. This was why she wasn’t sure of herself.
She hesitated. “I...I didn’t know what I wanted to do.”
“Was Isabel injured in the car accident?”
Callie couldn’t speak now. She just nodded. The tears were spilling down her face. Her hands were icy, almost as if she was in shock. He rubbed them gently, trying to encourage the blood flow and get some heat into them again.
It was obvious that Callie didn’t talk about this to people. Violet hadn’t heard a single thing about this—he suspected that no one at the DPA knew. Hadn’t anyone ever asked her about her scar?
It was one of the first things he’d noticed about her.
It was time to ask the ultimate question. He had to give her a chance to let go. “Did she die?”
And that’s when the sobs were let loose. Big, loud gasping sobs. The kind where you couldn’t catch your breath before the next one took over your body.
He knew how that felt. He’d been there too.
He moved, sitting on the arm of the easy chair, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and letting her rest her head on his shoulder as she cried. It was the most natural thing to do.
Grief was all-consuming.
“There was a nurse and she knew Isabel was going to die. My parents hadn’t got there yet. They were about to take me to Theatre but she wouldn’t let them. She pulled me over to Isabel and put her hand in mine. It was the best and worst moment of my life. She knew how important it was. And I never even got to thank her. Everything just turned into a blur after that. My parents arrived and...”
“That’s why you wanted the boys to hold hands. Now I get it,” he murmured. It all made sense now. The look of terror on her face, her reactions. They were all the actions of someone who had walked in those shoes. Only someone who’d had that experience could truly know what it all meant and how important the smallest thing could be.
Her voice tailed off. She couldn’t talk any more. He lifted a damp lock of her hair and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “I understand, Callie. I understand better than you could ever know.”
“How can you?” she whispered. Her whole body was shaking. “We were fighting. I’ve never told anyone this but Isabel and I were fighting. A car came round the corner on the wrong side of the road and I didn’t have time to react. I didn’t have time to react because I was distracted. I was trying to stop Isabel from getting her own way yet again.”
He could see the pain written across her face. And more than anything he wanted to take it away.
The feelings almost overwhelmed him. It had been so long since he’d felt like this that he almost didn’t recognize it. That intensity. That urge to protect.
The feelings of love.
Sawyer sucked in his breath. The pain spread across his chest. His heart thudded, his muscles tensed.
Every one of his senses was hyper-aware. He could hear her panting breaths, feel the dampness of her tears between his fingertips. He could smell the aroma of her raspberry shampoo and remember the taste of her on his lips.
And he could see her. All of her. Her bedraggled hair, damp around her forehead. The little lines etched around her clear blue eyes. The pink tinge of her cheeks. The dark red of her lips.
Her pink scrub top clung to her, outlining her firm breasts and the curve of her waist. The matching trousers hugged her hips and thighs. Her bright pink casual shoes cushioned her feet, with one dangling from her silver-starred toes.
All of this made up the picture of the woman that he loved.
The realization made him want to run. Made him want to escape for a few minutes to sort his head out and realign his senses.
But he couldn’t leave. He could never leave her like this. His hand rubbed her back and he tried to keep his eyes off her silver-starred toes and the pictures they were conjuring up in his mind.
“All siblings fight, Callie. That’s normal. That’s what being a brother or sister is all about. You were just unlucky.”
She shook her head. “But it didn’t feel like that.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “Isabel had always been really competitive. Medical school was just making her worse.” Her eyes turned to meet his. “Of course, her fellow students would never have said that. They all embraced that kind of lifestyle. As if everything was a race, every mark a victory. But she carried it home with her. And it made being her sister tough.” Her voice cracked and sobs racked her shoulders once again.
Sawyer pulled her close. She was consumed with guilt. That much was obvious. Not just because she’d been driving the car but because of how she’d been feeling towards her sister.
“Callie, I know. I understand. Violet was the good girl in the family. The one who always looked perfect in pictures. Sometimes I even hated her.”
“You did?” Her eyes widened, her expression was one of surprise.
“Of course I did—she’s my sister. Family’s like that. You can’t love or hate anyone more than your immediate family. No one else generates the same emotional energy. The same tug. Even in love.” He gave her a smile.
“I walked away a few years ago. If I’d stayed near my family they would never have allowed me to live the way I have. The first thing Violet did when I phoned her was chew me out. Just wait till I see her. There won’t be anything left for you.”
“For me?” The tone in her voice changed. Her gaze fixed on his.
He bent his face to hers, taking in her trembling lips. Right now he didn’t care about the monkeypox. He didn’t care about the quarantine and vaccinations. And he certainly didn’t care about the plans.
All he cared about was the woman in front of him.
It didn’t matter how long he’d known her. It didn’t matter how much they’d have to work through. All that mattered now was that he wanted a chance with her.
A chance to see where life could take them.
“Callie, what would it take to make you happy?”
She shook her head. “What do you mean?”
He knelt down in front of her. “I want you to stop thinking about anyone else. Stop thinking about the situation we’re in with work. Stop thinking about responsibilities. Stop thinking about what anyone else thinks about you.” He clasped both her hands in his. “I’ve spent the last six years in a fog, Callie, and being around you has finally woken me up.”
He looked around the plain white room they were in. “I can see the color in things again. I can see light again. And it’s all because of you.”
She took a deep breath and drew back a little. She looked scared. Not of him—but of what he was saying.
“But we’re not a good match, Sawyer. We’re nothing alike. Even Callum said we’re like oil and water.”
Sawyer smiled. Trust Callum to see things long before anyone else could.
“And
opposites attract, Callie.” He drew her closer and whispered in her ear, “And in case you haven’t noticed, I’m really attracted to you.”
“Ditto,” she whispered.
Their eyes met. They were reliving the conversation in the kids’ cinema room.
“Callie, do you really want to be part of the DPA?”
“What?” She looked shocked.
He held his hands out. “This, Callie, all this. Is this really what you want? Because I can see you’re a good doctor but I have to keep convincing you of that.” He laid his palm on her chest above her heart, “And if you don’t feel it in here, I wonder if you’re doing the job of your heart or if you’re just doing your duty to your sister.”
All of a sudden she couldn’t meet his all-too-perceptive gaze.
He put a finger under her chin and gently made her look at him. “Sometimes you need someone else to put things into perspective for you. Callie, I see a beautiful woman who is a great doctor but who is clearly in the wrong job. Was it in your heart to come to the DPA? Or did you come because that was the path that Isabel had mapped out for you both?”
“We wanted to work together. It was our dream.”
“Both your dreams? Or only hers?”
“Don’t say that. I don’t like the way you make that sound. It was our plan.” Her eyes drifted away from his and became fixed on the blank wall. “When you don’t follow the plan, things go wrong. That’s what happened that night. I took a different road—I was just so sick of Isabel being in charge all the time. Planning what we were doing every second of every day. Even down to what we ate.”
Her shoulders started to shake again, her widened eyes turning back to meet his. “Don’t you see what happened? When you stick to the plan, things go fine. But when you don’t...that’s when things go wrong. We would never have been on that road if I hadn’t fought with Isabel. If I’d just gone along with what she’d wanted, everything would have been fine.”
“You don’t know that. You can’t know that.” He touched her cheek. “And would you have liked this job any more if Isabel was working next to you? Or would you still hate it just as much but do a better job at hiding it—all to keep her happy? To stick to the plan?”
THE MAVERICK DOCTOR AND MISS PRIM/ABOUT THAT NIGHT... Page 15