Sunset Bay Sanctuary

by Roxanne Snopek

  “It’s her gift,” said Haylee.

  She helped Duane back to his feet and turned the corner to the elevators down the hall. But before she’d reached the wide doors, something caught Jewel’s attention. She pranced a quick jig, looking toward the hall leading to the ER, too well trained to bolt, but too excited to alert in a calmer fashion.

  “What’s up, girl?” Haylee said.

  The squeal of tires sounded outside then, followed by the crash of doors, footsteps, and voices, rushed and frantic.

  A garbled all-hands-on-deck announcement floated over the hospital PA system.

  The metallic doors burst open and Haylee caught a glimpse of slim denim-clad legs, boots, and two unmistakable sun-bleached pigtails, jumping and dancing over plaid covered shoulders.

  “Olivia?”

  “Go.” Duane held out his hand for the leash. “Jewel can stay with me.”

  Haylee pushed through the doors, her heart thudding in her chest.

  “Liv, what’s going on?”

  Her aunt hovered just inside the entrance to the emergency bay, pointing at her truck. Uninjured, then. Haylee felt her breath leave her in a rush.

  “Don’t ask.” Olivia peered around her. “Hello! I need a doctor!”

  A guttural scream sounded behind them, making Haylee jump.

  “Woman in labor,” Olivia yelled into the room. “In my passenger seat.”

  A flurry of pastel-clad bodies materialized at that. Haylee stepped out of the way, pressing her back against a wall. “Name? Age? How far along?” A nurse followed Olivia to the truck, unwinding a stethoscope from around her neck.

  Olivia cast a glance at Haylee, then looked away. “Sage. Eighteen. Doesn’t know how far along. Or so she says.”

  Haylee started involuntarily, then sagged with relief. Eighteen.

  A man appeared suddenly, parting the group like Moses at the Red Sea, galvanizing the previously quiet triage center. He yanked his sports coat off wide shoulders and tossed it onto the desk.

  “Set up for delivery,” he snapped to no one in particular. “Prep an OR, too. Plan for the worst, hope for the best, team. Show me your awesomeness. Chop, chop, good people, no time to lose.”

  Sports coat. Tie. Good shirt. Good shoes.

  Good Lord. Haylee blinked. He was a cleaned-up version of the man she’d met on the rocks last night. But unlike last night, there was no rattle, only a ferocious focus.

  “Gloves, please,” he said. “It’s go time.”

  It was as if a mask had dropped over his face, smoothing out all the earlier casual-crazy and replacing it with authoritative competence.

  Or maybe the crazy was the mask, and this was normal.

  The RN stepped in front of him, her hand out like a traffic cop, catching him in the chest.

  “Hold up, there. You are?”

  “About to deliver a baby. You?”

  They exchanged glares for a split second before the nurse’s eyes widened. “You’re Dr. Mac!” She heaved a sigh of relief, mixed with exasperation. “Thank God. Everyone, Dr. Aiden McCall. Dr. Mac, everyone.”

  “We know,” came a chorus of voices.

  The nurse made a face. “I’ve been off. Good to finally meet you. I’m Shelley. You can call me Boss.”

  Olivia smacked her hand against the wall, twice. “Hello? Baby coming. Don’t much care who catches it, as long as it’s not me.”

  Haylee recalled the ragged sense of life and death that had clung to the man while the dark tide crept unseen around his legs. The angry shouts at odds with his self-deprecating attempts at humor. The chill of his hand. That wave of body heat. Had she imagined it all?

  Whatever had held him captive that night seemed firmly locked away now. Haylee followed him and Shelley to the ambulance bay, where Olivia’s truck stood open, revealing the girl lying on her side in the passenger seat, one sneaker-clad foot braced against the door. Another harsh shriek ran through Haylee like a lance.

  Instinctively, she put a hand over her mouth.

  “Haylee.” One word was both plea and apology from Olivia.

  Dr. Mac—Aiden—slid stern eyes past Olivia onto Haylee. “No fainting allowed unless it’s me.”

  Then his eyes widened in recognition. A flush spread over his cheeks, clean-shaven today, revealing even more of that spectacular bone structure. For just a moment, the façade cracked and Haylee saw the man on the outcropping again. Something passed between them, an endless moment, a silent reckoning.

  Then it was gone. His face closed, his expression hard as the rock on which they’d met.

  “We meet again.”

  “So we do.”

  “You work here too?” He threw the words over his shoulder, busy snapping on latex gloves.

  “No.”

  “Then I recommend you vacate the splash zone.”

  “Gladly.”

  “Hey, Sage,” said Aiden to the girl in the truck. “I’m Dr. Mac. You’re having quite the day. Mind if I take a look? Rumors are that you may be giving birth. These things happen. Ah, yes. We call this crowning. Let’s go, team. Mama and baby, coming through.”

  He spoke calmly, as if she’d dropped by for a friendly cup of coffee and he happened to discover—what a lark!—a basketball falling out of her body. But his movements were quick and sure, his directions crisp and clear to the team bustling around him.

  Haylee backed away from the bodies now surrounding the girl but in between the blankets and equipment and quick, controlled movements of the staff, she got another glimpse of the lanky teenager draped in a long, baggy fleece top and what appeared to be a voluminous scarf or shawl.

  Shrouded in denial. Boy, she’d fooled them all but good.

  “Are you okay?” asked Olivia, touching her arm.

  “I’m fine.” Haylee swallowed. “So this is your . . . this is Sage?”

  “I’m as surprised as you, Hay.” Olivia crossed her arms and blew out a shaky breath.

  “I doubt that.”

  Olivia opened her mouth to respond, but the nurse interrupted.

  “When did her contractions start?” Shelley’s face was tight with concentration.

  “She’s brand new to us. Gideon picked her up at the bus station this morning, brought her straight to the ranch. She seemed fine when I met her. Then, a half-hour ago, I found her doubled over in the barn. She claimed it was food poisoning. I feel like such an idiot.” Olivia reached for a chair blindly, lowered herself onto the edge, perched there like a baby bird about to be pushed from the nest. “I got her here as fast as I could. God, that scared the shit out of me. Is she going to be okay?”

  Shelley looked up from her notes, peering intently at Olivia. “Are you feeling all right? You want some water?”

  A shudder ran over Olivia but she straightened her shoulders and pushed back in the chair. “I’m fine. What else do you need?”

  Haylee walked on wooden legs to the front desk, poured a paper cup of water and drank it, before remembering that she’d gone there for Olivia. She poured another one, then jumped back as Aiden came through the door, pulling the gurney behind him. “Heads up.” He walked backward, with one hand on his patient’s shoulder and for a moment, their eyes met again in that instant of unintended, unwelcome intimacy. Haylee had seen a part of him he didn’t want anyone to know about.

  And now, whether he knew it or not, Aiden was witnessing something similar in her.

  The team pushed through another set of doors and the mother-to-be let out another scream, the sound piercing bone and muscle and memory. She kicked and flailed as they moved her and one of her shoes went flying. The muffled thump of the swinging doors cut the sound, effectively closing off the spectators from the action.

  “God.” Haylee pushed the paper cup at Olivia. “Here. Drink this.”

  Olivia ran a hand over her face. “She arrived right after you left this morning. I spent two hours showing her around the ranch. How could I have missed the fact that she was nine months pregnan
t?”

  The nurse had finished with her for the time being, so Haylee slid onto the chair beside Olivia.

  “Don’t beat yourself up. A lot of other people must have missed it before you.”

  “Poor kid. How many cracks did she have to fall through to end up here, like this?”

  There were a lot of cracks, as they both knew. Some tiny, and some great yawning crevasses. You couldn’t always tell. And it only took one.

  A clerk called about insurance forms but before Olivia walked away, she gripped Haylee’s shoulder.

  “It’s going to be okay. Do you hear me? Haylee?”

  “Yeah. No. Of course.” Haylee patted Olivia’s hand. “Go on. I’m fine.”

  None of this was okay and she couldn’t imagine how any of them could ever be fine again. On the tile floor, next to the doors, lay the lone shoe. She walked over and picked it up. The sole was nearly worn through and the heel was crinkled, as if the girl kicked her shoes off instead of untying them.

  The same way Haylee did.

  Haylee tucked the shoe into her bag and made her way out of the emergency room to the information desk again, wishing she could cancel Jewel’s visitations for the day. But there were people here, sick people, kids, who counted on the dog’s cheerful company.

  “No one’s hurt, I hope?” Duane said, the folds of his face falling in gentle, worried lines, like that of a sweet-tempered Basset hound.

  “One of Liv’s kids is having a baby,” she explained. “Big surprise to all. Especially Liv.”

  “Poor thing.” Duane shook his head.

  He could have meant the girl, or Olivia. Or the baby.

  “Everyone okay?”

  She shrugged. “Hope so. Thanks for looking after Jewel.”

  The dog wriggled, anxious to get to work, so Haylee set her own troubled thoughts aside and headed for the solarium, where ambulatory patients, mostly seniors, gathered to visit with family. Perhaps an hour or two among the tropical plants and sunshine, watching her dog mingle and snuggle and love whoever needed her would put Haylee right again.

  * * *

  It was afternoon when she walked past Duane’s desk again, her time with the convalescents having done little to hold back the dread building in her chest.

  “I’m going to get a soda before I go,” she said to him. “You want anything?”

  “No, thanks, honey.” He patted his ample belly. “Diabetes, remember?”

  “And that’s not a blueberry Danish I see peeking out from beneath the napkin?”

  Duane’s nose wrinkled up like a Brazil nut. “Can’t deny a man every pleasure.”

  “Watch your sugar. Who’ll run this place if you’re not here?”

  Duane laughed and waved her away. He didn’t like people fawning over him. But the man wasn’t taking care of himself and Haylee guessed his station in the hallway was more home to him than wherever he went after work. She’d talk to Daphne about having him to the ranch for supper one day. Daphne would kick him into line.

  Jewel’s thick chestnut-brown tail waved wildly as she and Haylee headed down the hall to the quiet alcove that held the vending machines. Haylee was fumbling in her pocket for the necessary change when the dog pulled suddenly. Coins spilled from her hand, clinking onto the floor, rolling into the corner.

  “Jewel,” she scolded. But when she reached for the quarter, she found a man standing in the empty space between the machines, his back pressed into the wall, his eyes closed.

  “Oh! You.” She stopped. Not again.

  Jewel whined and lunged forward, like she’d been waiting all day to see this exact person.

  “Oomph.” Dr. Aiden McCall shifted just in time to prevent the dog from head-butting him in the crotch.

  “Jewel! Sorry about that. I don’t know what’s gotten into her today.”

  “Dogs will be dogs.” He sounded as if he’d just run up eight flights of stairs. “Or sea lions, as the case may be.”

  “Can I buy you a drink?” He gestured roughly to the machines. Perspiration gleamed on his face.

  Haylee’s heart turned over in her chest. The girl. The baby.

  Sage.

  “I’m good.” Haylee plugged in her change and collected her drink. Her throat was dry with dread. “What happened? Is the baby . . .”

  Aiden’s face softened. “She’s fine. Perfect Apgars. Ten fingers, ten toes, an operatic set of lungs. Six pounds, four ounces.”

  Haylee twisted the lid of her beverage with numb fingers. “And the mom?”

  “Also fine.” He peered at her inquisitively, the fatigue or anxiety or whatever she thought she’d seen, gone. “Do you know her?”

  She bit back something that could have been a laugh or a cry. Good question. “She’s staying at the ranch. Or was, anyway. My aunt knows her. Olivia Hansen. That’s who brought her in.”

  She was babbling.

  “You okay, Haylee? Do you need to sit down?”

  She shook her head. “I’m fine.” She backed away, just as Jewel cut behind her, stumbled and would have fallen, if not for Aiden’s hand, suddenly in her grasp.

  Jewel gave an alarmed woof, whining and pushing between them.

  Unlike the other night, when the man’s fingers had been icy cold, today his grip was warm and steady. For a moment, Haylee surrendered to the sensation, let herself be supported and held, as if the energy she’d sensed in him might flow into her, warming the dark, forgotten corners.

  Don’t be ridiculous.

  She yanked her hand back, rubbed it on her leg and, glanced back at the dog, wanting nothing more than to disappear.

  “Oops, clumsy me. Thanks for the hand. Ha, ha.” She closed her eyes as heat rose into her cheeks.

  “No problem. We’re even now. Maybe we can start over. A cup of coffee, sometime, perhaps?”

  Jewel rubbed against the man’s leg, and he laid a hand on her side, stroking gently. Watching her.

  She really didn’t need this.

  “Or a tour of the psych ward?” She forced a little laugh. “Sorry. Gallows humor. We deal with a lot of . . . issues . . . at the ranch. I don’t mean to be offensive.”

  “Not at all. We’ve all got issues.” He smiled crookedly and she remembered how he’d looked with the fiery sunset aglow on his face.

  “Even the amazing Dr. Mac?”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “Amazing, huh?”

  She snorted and ducked away. “I expect you put your pants on one leg at a time, like everyone else. Come on, Jewel. Time to go.”

  And, before she could say anything else, she made her escape.

  Chapter Four

  “Ranching is hard work and I’m used to a desk job. But at the end of two weeks, I had muscles on my muscles. And a new sense of my own power.”

  —Fiona from Seattle

  When Haylee and Jewel returned to the kennels at Sanctuary Ranch, Hannibal bounded over the grass of the training yard toward them, his tail high, his stubby ears perked forward. At the fence, he let out a deep bark that could, under different circumstances, liquefy the gut. Here, it was an invitation to play.

  “Whoa, that’s a lot of dog. Another pit-bull cross?”

  Gideon Low, the head wrangler, propped a booted foot on the bottom rung of the rail fence separating the corral from Haylee’s kennels. He wore a denim shirt, as usual and his long, tanned forearms rested casually on the top rail.

  “He’s sixty-five pounds of puppy,” said Haylee. With his dark brindle coat, wide skull, and grinning jaw, Hannibal was definitely a pit bull of some kind. “Probably some mastiff in there somewhere, too. I didn’t see any signs of undue aggression at the shelter, but testosterone is the root of all evil, so I’m taking precautions.”

  A small smile was the only response from Gideon. It was tough to get under his gentlemanly skin.

  Jewel wagged her big bottom and pressed up against the fence, her wide jaw grinning, her pink tongue lolling, eager to meet the youngster and begin mothering him.

&
nbsp; “Your old girl seems to think he’s okay.”

  “I don’t take chances with her.” Hannibal was the outsider and therefore on the defensive, prepared to be ostracized, expecting to fight for a place in the pecking order.

  Which, given his size, wouldn’t be much of a fight.

  Dr. Mac was also new in his ecosystem, brought in as the alpha with no need to fight for status. But still, there’d be some jostling, some defensiveness, as everyone adjusted to the new order. A little aggression would not be out of place, to establish authority with the inevitable few who saw change as an opportunity to further their own status.

  But from what she’d seen, Aiden McCall hadn’t done that. He’d directed his team courteously but with authority, acting with them, as opposed to above them. A natural leader.

  A streak of white and caramel raced past her on stubby legs.

  “Cleo!”

  The little terrier cross made straight for the fence, where she stood whining and panting, trying to lick Hannibal’s jowls through the wire.

  “No fear in that one, is there?” Gideon’s face relaxed into a full smile.

  Jamie trotted around the corner and joined them at the fence.

  “Someone’s got a crush.” She squatted to pet Cleo, who ignored her completely.

  “Where have I seen that before?” said Haylee, tapping her finger against her chin.

  “Shut up.” Jamie snapped back up to full height, blushing furiously.

  “Ignore her, Jamie,” said Gideon.

  But he couldn’t quite keep a straight face. He and Jamie had become close in the past couple of months, after he’d discovered her affinity for horsemanship. Jamie was hardly subtle in her admiration, but Gideon had thus far refused to cross that line. Probably for the best, given Jamie’s history. Gideon’s too, for that matter.

  Hannibal whined, then bowed low on his front legs and barked again, dashed a few steps away, then back, begging the dogs to join him.

  “Quit torturing him.” Jamie reached past Haylee and unlatched the gate.

  “Damn it, Jamie!” Haylee made a grab but Cleo squeezed through with Jewel right behind her. The little terrier threw herself at the bigger dog’s feet, groveling in adoration. No dummy, Cleo.