by Lyn Horner
“Why don’t you lie down on the couch,” Michaela suggested as they walked into the living room.
“Sure thing. I’ve become well acquainted with this baby. Pretty soon the cushions will be permanently molded to me.” Grinning, he kicked off his shoes.
Ignoring his teasing dig at her for ordering him from her bed last night, she smiled and took a seat in her wicker chair. Her position put her near his head when he sprawled out, making himself comfortable with a plump throw pillow under his head. His shoulders were too wide for the couch, so he crossed his arms over his chest.
“Okay, now I need you to just relax and let your thoughts drift. I won’t speak while I do this, and it will help if you keep quiet too.”
“You’re the doctor, Goldie. I won’t say a word.”
“I’ll be as careful as I can but you may experience some strange sensations. You shouldn’t feel any pain. If you do, tell me at once and I’ll stop immediately.”
“Fine. Get on with it, Doc.” He just wanted the whole thing to be over.
Michaela had a hunch his cavalier attitude camouflaged a certain amount of wariness over what she was about to do, perfectly normal. Determined not to cause him any discomfort, she leaned back, drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes. Reaching out with the power bestowed upon her by the Goddess, she sought and found Dev’s mind. She lightly touched the surface of his thoughts, encountering no barrier like the one Andrew had displayed.
She probed gently, reading thoughts of her, some of which made her blush. They included the dreams he’d mentioned last night. Flattered by his image of her, she read concern for her safety and impatience because she wouldn’t let him whisk her off the island immediately. No surprise, that. Probing deeper, she found no trace of evil intent toward her and confirmed Dev’s claim that he had first heard of the Guardians only recently from Lara.
Well satisfied with this proof of his honesty and trustworthiness, she was about to withdraw from his thoughts when she caught a glimpse of simmering anger at his friend and boss, Conn O’Shea. Then a memory of fire and searing agony tore through her. She screamed and fell into blackness.
Slowly opening her eyes, Michaela saw a cloud of white above her. Disoriented, she blinked a couple times to clear her vision and realized she was lying on the couch staring at the ceiling. She rolled her head slightly to the side. Dev sat next to her, worry lines creasing his face.
“Welcome back, honey,” he murmured, brushing a wisp of hair from her cheek. “You scared the daylights out of me. What happened? What did you see that made you pass out?”
For a second she couldn’t remember; then the horrible memory – his memory – came rushing back. “You were in agony!” she cried. “It was unbearable!”
His frown deepened. “You mean when I got burned?”
“Yes.” She threw an arm over her eyes, trying to block out the vestiges of pain and terror.
“Ah hell! I’m sorry, Goldie. It didn’t occur to me you might see things from months past.” He drew her up into his arms, and she buried her face in his throat, “That’s all over and done with. Let it go, just let it go,” he crooned, rocking her gently, making her feel cherished and protected.
“But you haven’t let it go. You blame Conn. Why?”
Stiffening, he stopped rocking her. “Because he made a bad decision. I was sure we could cap the gas well fire before a second line blew. Conn wouldn’t listen. He ordered the crew to back off. I refused and Ray Douglas stuck with me. The others followed the boss’s order, leaving Ray and me to do the job alone. Then the second line blew. Ray died instantly, crushed under a ton of red-hot steel pipe and framework. I took a glancing blow to my back. You’ve seen the results.”
“Yes, I have.” Michaela stroked his back lightly, not wanting to irritate his newly healed scars. She tried to choose her words just as carefully. “Were any of the other men hurt, the ones who followed Conn’s order?”
“No. But if they hadn’t run, if he hadn’t interfered and slowed us down, I still say we could have capped the fire before the second blowout.”
“I see. So he cost you several minutes, I guess.”
Dev was slower to answer. “Well, at least one or two minutes.”
“Mmm.” She didn’t press the issue, hoping he would rethink his stance and make peace with his best friend.
After a moment, he cleared his throat and opened a small space between them. Gazing into her eyes, he said, “Okay, I need to know, did you see anything in my head connecting me to the Hellhounds?”
She smiled and shook her head. “No, nothing. You’ve told me the truth right from the start. I’m sorry for doubting you.”
“Hey, you have to be careful. I know that.” He gave her a quick peck on her cheek. “Now, I think you need to get some rest.” Pushing to his feet, he offered his hand and helped her up. When she wobbled, still feeling a bit lightheaded, he curved his arm around her for support. “I’ll walk you up. Don’t want you to lose your balance and tumble down the stairs.”
“There’s a guestroom across the hall from mine,” Michaela said as they mounted the steps. “You’re welcome to sleep in there.”
“Thanks, but I’ll stick with the couch. Down there, I’ll stand a better chance of hearing anybody who might try to break in.” They reached her bedroom and he opened the door. “Will you be okay from here?”
Shivering at the thought of him facing a dangerous, possibly armed intruder, she rubbed her arms and nodded. “I’ll be fine, but I’m concerned for you. You’ll be careful, won’t you? I mean in case someone does break in.”
“Don’t worry about me, Goldie. I’m ex-special forces. I know how to handle myself.” He bent and gave her a lingering kiss, almost leading her to invite him into her room and her bed when he drew away. “Night, baby. Sleep well,” he said, voice husky.
“Good night.” She watched him retreat down the hall to the stairs before entering her room, wishing she’d spoken up and asked him to stay when she had the chance.
No! He would have repeated his nonsense about the two of you being destined for each other. You know that.
*
The night passed peacefully, for which Michaela was grateful. She and Dev shared a quick breakfast; then he drove her to work. He brought his tablet along and informed her he would be spending the day in her waiting room, in case Andrew or any other threat presented itself. She tried to talk him out of it but he remained adamant.
“You said Jennifer was scared yesterday,” he reminded her. “Don’t you think she’ll feel safer with me here to handle any trouble?”
She couldn’t argue with that. “Yes, I’m sure she will.” Giving up, she marched into her office, leaving the door open so she’d know when Jennifer arrived. As soon as she did, Michaela walked out to her desk
“Good morning, Dr. Peterson,” the receptionist said in her pert morning voice. “Can I help you with something?” She glanced curiously over at Dev, who appeared to be totally engrossed in a loud war game on his tablet.
“Yes, Jen, I need you to cancel my appointments for today and the rest of the week. I’ll explain why later.”
“Yes ma’am.” The girl looked suddenly worried but didn’t say anything more.
“Oh, and Mr. Medina will be staying here today. Try not to let him bother you.”
A low rumble of laugher drew her gaze to Dev. He flashed her a broad grin
Michaela closed herself in her private office and began sorting through case files, trying to determine which of her colleagues would best fit each patient’s needs. It was a painstaking job. When she began calling those colleagues, she found convincing them to take on the extra workload was even more difficult. They all had thriving practices of their own.
As for her patients, Michaela considered having Jennifer type and mail letters notifying them that she was taking a leave of absence due to a family emergency, but that seemed so cold. Instead, she decided to phone each individual personally. It was emotion
ally draining when some of her more fragile patients grew upset at the prospect of switching doctors. She did her best to reassure them, sincerely wishing she didn’t have to put them through the ordeal.
She took a short lunch break with Dev. Outside of that, she kept at her task all day, occasionally looking up at the sound of laughter and muted conversation coming from the outer office. Glad to know Jennifer and Dev were getting along out there, she would smile and dial the next number on her list. She finished the last phone call late in the afternoon, leaving one more duty to fulfill. Going to the door, she called Jennifer into her office and watched the girl’s eyes widen when she saw the stacks of files piled on Michaela’s desk.
Feeling like a rock sat in the vicinity of her heart, she said, “Jen, due to the situation Mr. Medina told you about, I’m closing my practice for a while.”
“Oh! Dr. Peterson, I’m so sorry to hear that.” Jennifer’s eyes filled with tears. “I … I guess I’ll have to look for another job.”
Michaela cleared her tight throat. “Actually no, you won’t. I’ve made arrangements for you to help out at Dr. Greenwald’s office three days a week and at Dr. Messinger’s the other two days each week. Unless you find that disagreeable?”
A huge smile broke out on Jennifer’s face. She swiped at her wet eyes and shook her head, making her bright curls bounce. “No! That’s wonderful. Thank you for thinking of me.”
“Of course. Now, I’ve also arranged for my patients to transfer to other doctors.” She indicated the file stacks. “These are all labeled with the name and address of the assigned doctor. I’ll need you to see that they get delivered by the end of work on Friday. Can you do that?”
“Yes ma’am, no problem.”
“Good. You’ll start your new work schedule a week from Monday.” Michaela smiled. “I thought you might enjoy a week’s vacation, and here’s a little something to tide you over during the transition.” She held out a check.
Accepting it, Jennifer gasped. “Woah! Dr. Peterson, thank you!”
“You’re welcome, Jen. You’ve done a fine job for me and I appreciate it.” The two of them hugged. Then Michaela handed over the office keys, retrieved her handbag, took a final look around and walked out with Dev.
*
After parking his keister in the waiting room all day, Dev was glad to get out of the office, but not so for Michaela. She looked like someone she loved had just died, and he supposed it was true in a way. Leaving something behind that she had trained and worked at for a good part of her life must be like losing part of herself.
“I want to get you off the island tonight,” he said as they emerged from the building, hating to add to her woes.
“I thought you might.” She gave him a sad smile. “I need to pack a few things but first, could we take a ride west along the coast? I’d like to watch the sun go down over the water one last time.”
“Sure we can, but don’t think of it as the last time. You’ll see it again when it’s safe to return here.”
“Perhaps, one day.”
They said little as Dev drove to Seawall Boulevard and turned right into rush hour traffic, heading west. Within minutes they were out of the city. The seawall ended but the road led on through sparsely populated land, toward scattered beachside enclaves and small towns along the western end of the island.
Hearing Michaela sigh, Dev glanced over at her. She stared straight ahead, plainly lost in thought. Wanting to take her mind off their pending departure from her beloved island, he decided to raise a subject that had preyed on his mind for the past two days.
“Goldie, I apologize for upsetting you the other night. It’s possible I misinterpreted my dreams of you.” He didn’t believe that to be the case, but by admitting he might be wrong, he hoped to get her talking about her angry reaction.
Drawn from her thoughts, she shot him a startled look. “I saw your memory of the dreams when you allowed me to read your mind.”
“Yeah? I wondered if you would. What did you think?”
“It was strange seeing myself through your eyes. I’ve always been conscious of being taller than most men, and while I’m not bad looking, I certainly don’t think I’m a raving beauty. But when you look at me … .”
“You’re beautiful,” he finished for her, “every last inch of you, and sexy as a man could want.” He winked at her and grinned.
“You know how to make a girl blush.” Sure enough, a pretty rush of pink swept up her throat into her cheeks.
Dev chuckled. Then, focusing on the road ahead, he asked. “Goldie, what made you so angry when I told you about the dream and how I thought you were meant to be mine?”
She shifted in her seat and gazed out her side window. “It’s … it’s hard to talk about. I don’t know if you would understand.” Her voice cracked on the last few words.
“Try me. Maybe I’ll surprise you.”
After a moment, she said softly, “I had a daughter.”
“You had a daughter?” he parroted in astonishment. He hadn’t seen that coming. And what did she mean by had?
“Yes. Her name was Tara. She died when she was four years old.”
“Ah, jeez! Honey, I’m awful sorry.” He reached over and laid a hand on her shoulder.
She jerked away. “Please don’t. I don’t deserve any comforting. You see, her death was my fault.”
“Your fault? How was it your fault?”
“I trusted someone, a man I loved and who I thought loved me. He killed her.”
“My God!” Shocked down to his boots, Dev hit the brake and pulled over onto the shoulder. Throwing the car into park, he turned toward her. “How did it happen?”
“I was a third year resident at UT Medical Branch here in Galveston. Tara and I lived in an apartment not far from campus with my mother. Tara’s father was out of the picture. If Mom hadn’t moved down from Oklahoma to help care for Tara, I wouldn’t have been able to complete my residency.”
Her voice trembled. Dev wanted to reach out to her again but in view of her previous reaction, he held back. After a long, pain-filled silence, she continued.
“I met him, the bastard who murdered my baby, at a faculty reception. He was tall and handsome, and when he smiled at me, I fell head over heals right then and there.” Michaela’s tone had grown heavy with hatred – and self-disgust, Dev guessed.
“So, he was a doctor?”
She laughed mockingly. “No. He was a waiter, hired by the caterers. Of course, he wanted to be a male fashion model,” she sneered. “All he was good at was seducing women, me for one. I began spending my every free moment with him. God forgive me, I virtually ignored Tara. My mother tried to talk sense into me, but I wouldn’t listen.
“Then Mom got a call from my sister pleading with her to come for a visit, to see her new grandson. Knowing my mother wanted to go, I told her to fly up there for a couple weeks and made arrangements for a neighbor lady to watch Tara while she was gone. Unfortunately, the woman came down with the flu a few days after Mom left. Desperate for someone to stay with Tara while I was on duty, I begged Hunter – that was the rotten swine’s name – for help. He said sure, no problem, and he took time off from work.
“Everything seemed to go fine the first two days, although Tara was unusually quiet in the evenings after I got home, and she clung to me like she never wanted to let go. When I asked her if something was wrong, she said she missed Grammy. I told her Grammy would be back soon and let it go at that. I was so grateful to Hunter for watching her that I didn’t even think to question him. What a fool!” Michaela shook her head and pressed a hand to her lips. A moment passed before she spoke again.
“The third day, I had a twelve-hour shift. It was late when I finally got home. The apartment was dark. I figured Hunter had put Tara to bed and must be asleep in our – in my bedroom. But he wasn’t. He was gone. Furious at him for leaving Tara alone, I ran into her room. She lay in her bed, looking like a perfect little angel. I bent to k
iss her forehead. It felt ice cold. That’s when I noticed her chest wasn’t moving. She wasn’t breathing!” Choking on the words, she paused again. When she finally spoke, her voice rasped with emotion.
“I lifted her in my arms, trying to wake her. She hung like a rag doll with her head falling back, too far back. H-he’d broken her neck! I remember screaming and screaming until I couldn’t scream any longer.” Michaela bent forward, arms crossed over her stomach, long hair shielding her face.
Sickened by the horror she described, Dev gripped the steering wheel hard, wishing it was the killer’s neck so he could pay him back for what he’d done. “You don’t need to say any more,” he said thickly.
Straightening, Michaela managed to compose herself. “No. You might as well hear the rest,” she said. “I found out later that a neighbor heard me screaming and called 9-1-1. The police and paramedics came and … and later the coroner. At first, they suspected me of killing Tara. The rest of that night was a blur of questions. I don’t remember much of it but somehow I convinced them to go after Hunter.”
“Did they catch him?”
“Yes. He was hiding out with one of his lowlife pals. Under questioning, he admitted shaking Tara when she wouldn’t stop crying. He didn’t mean to hurt her, he claimed. It was just an accident. He killed my baby by accident!” Grinding her teeth, she pounded the dashboard with her fists. A strangled sound burst from her throat but she didn’t break down crying as Dev expected. Again regaining control with a determination he admired, she sat back and said in an icy voice, “He was convicted of second degree murder and sentenced to fifteen years in prison.”
“Too good for him, but at least the S.O.B. is off the streets.”
“Yes.” Michaela looked over at him. “On the day Tara was buried, I vowed to her that I would never let another man into my life, into my heart. I’ve kept that vow ever since.”
Dev frowned. “Do you think she’d want you to live like that, without any hope of love?”
She turned away. Sidestepping his question, she said, “It’s the only way I can live with the guilt of what I let happen.” Her cold, hard tone brooked no argument.