by Jill Monroe
“I hope you didn’t feel left out with all our stories.”
Stella twisted on the cushion. “Oh, no. I had a great time. Scared if I ever get on the bad side of any of your children, but it was fun.”
“I think you’re a woman who can hold her own. Your family much different?”
There was no teasing at her family’s table. Only strict boundaries and respect for others’ personal space. “Oh, very. My parents never missed an opportunity for a teachable moment. Meals were more like quizzes and test prep.”
“Did I hear you were an only child?” Daphne asked. “What were you doing if you weren’t planning your next attack on your brother or sister?”
“I read a lot. I liked to explore.” She angled her head toward the large bay window. “The gardens here are beautiful.”
Karen smiled. “Oh, that’s all Charlotte. She traveled the world as a dancer, but when she decided to settle down with Roger’s father, she was determined to bring the world here for her children to share.”
Stella nodded. “I spotted the Greek and Mediterranean influences.”
“You’re going to be Charlotte’s favorite person around here. She’d love nothing better than to show you around and tell you about her favorite plants or features. I think that’s where Owen gets his love of the outdoors. Although he prefers the more rugged wilderness over our tame little garden. Once she’s up and walking around more, Charlotte wants to add a meditation area like we spotted at the Japanese Garden in the Fort Worth Botanic Garden. She’s had her eye on a few cherry trees at the nursery. Charlotte, why don’t you tell Stella of your plans? You know much more about it than I do.”
They both swiveled on the couch so they could talk with the older woman.
Charlotte nodded slowly, with her head tilted at an odd angle. “Yes, I...”
“Charlotte, are you okay?”
The older woman’s gaze seemed unfocused, and she opened and closed her mouth several times.
Stella slid off the couch and kneeled in front of Charlotte, noting the pallor of her skin and how the older woman tried to rub at her temples.
“Mrs. Perkins, it appears you’re in distress. Do I have your permission to examine you?” Stella asked, her voice firm.
“Of course you have permission,” Roger said.
“She’s trying to keep Gram alert, Dad.” Owen crouched beside her.
Charlotte closed her eyes briefly, and Stella gently took the older woman’s wrist in her hand, feeling for the radial pulse. A fluttery, irregular beat thumped beneath her fingertips.
She met Owen’s concerned gaze. “I think she’s in A-fib. Could be a stroke.”
The teasing, sexy near-stranger disappeared, replaced by the professional first responder. “Dad, call 911. Mom, get all Gram Gram’s medicines, everything she’s taking, even if it’s not on a regular basis, and put them in a bag.”
“Should we get her something? A glass of water?” Bethany asked.
“Shouldn’t you be giving her CPR or something?” Daphne said, her voice breaking.
Stella shook her head. “No, she’s breathing just fine.” She smiled at Mrs. Perkins. “Right now we’re all going to keep her calm until the ambulance arrives.”
“Ambulance. Oh, no, Gram—”
Stella cleared her throat to get their attention. “Daphne, why don’t you and Bethany pack a nightgown for your grandmother. I’m sure she’d prefer to sleep in her own clothes instead of a scratchy hospital gown.”
The two sisters raced for the stairs and the room instantly quieted.
After a few minutes they heard sirens blaring in the distance, announcing help was close.
Owen turned toward his remaining sister, who stood in the corner, wringing her hands. “Amelia, open the front door for the EMTs.”
With a nod, she rushed toward the door.
A few minutes later, the great room was filled with first responders, their equipment and a stretcher.
“Maybe you should ride with her to the hospital, Stella,” Roger suggested, his face lined with worry.
But Stella shook her head. “The EMTs will take great care of her, and I’m a stranger to her. You go. She’ll want to be with family.”
After the ambulance left, Karen and Owen’s sisters took the family car along with a suitcase of Charlotte’s belongings. Stella and Owen raced to his truck. They drove in tense silence to the hospital and were ushered into the ER waiting area when they arrived.
Karen talked in quiet voices with her daughters while Roger sat in a corner, his hands in fists. Owen paced. Stella just stood awkwardly to the side, feeling like an intruder in what should have been a private family moment.
As much time as she’d spent in emergency rooms, Stella had never been on this side of the door. Oh, she’d fetched family members to ask health histories or to escort them to their sick relatives, but Stella had never had to wait anxiously for news. Seeing Roger’s stony expression and Owen’s leashed anger and his sisters’ quiet strength gave her a whole different perspective as a future doctor.
After thirty minutes, a resident in rumpled scrubs came out from the examination area. The entire Perkins clan rushed to surround her, their shoes squeaking on the vinyl floor.
“It wasn’t a stroke,” the resident assured them.
Roger’s shoulders sagged in relief, and then he wrapped his arms around his wife while his daughters hugged one another.
Only Owen wasn’t happy. “What was it?”
The resident consulted the chart for a moment, then addressed the family. “Mrs. Perkins had a bad reaction to her medications. With the confusion and the slurring of speech, it could have easily been interpreted as a stroke. Had it been, your quick action could have saved her from most if not all permanent damage.”
Karen slipped out from under her husband’s arm. The older woman reached for Stella’s hand, gave her a squeeze and drew her into the comforting circle of the family. “Thanks to Stella.”
The resident nodded and directed her attention to Stella. “I understand you have some medical training.”
“I start my next round of clinicals after fall breakfast.”
“Oh, yeah? Never skip breakfast. Might be the only meal you have all day. And night.”
“Good to know.” Maybe she should offer to run to the snack bar or a vending machine.
The resident returned her attention to Roger. “Your mother’s comfortable and on an IV right now. We’re waiting for a bed upstairs. I’d like her to stay overnight. There were a lot of meds in that bag. Good thinking on the part of whoever brought that in with her. Has there been a change in her prescriptions recently?”
Karen shook her head. “She had knee surgery, but it’s been several weeks.”
“Sometimes it can take a while for compounds to build up in the system or for a body to react. For the time being I only want Mrs. Perkins on her blood pressure and heart meds.” The resident held up a finger. “And from now on, she needs to see one doctor, a primary, who oversees all her medications and coordinates between her specialists.”
“When can we see her?” Owen asked.
“Now, but let’s keep it to one person at a time. Once she’s moved upstairs she will be allowed multiple visitors.”
Roger nodded. “I’d like to see my mother.”
“Follow me.”
Roger kissed his wife’s cheek and shadowed the resident down the hall and into the emergency room. Karen turned toward her daughters. “Okay, girls, let’s find a decent cup of coffee.”
Owen scrubbed a hand down the back of his neck. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
Stella raced to catch up with him. The man weaved around several different hallways until finding a courtyard. She was winded by the time she caught up with him, and resolved—again—to work on her cardio.
“Owen,” she called.
He blanched when he spotted her. “Hell, I’m sorry, I—”
“Hey, it’s okay. I understand.”<
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He squeezed his eyes shut. “I hate hospitals. The stale coffee and the long hallways and the constant beeping. Just the smell of the cleaner that permeates every single space makes my stomach clench. How can you stand it?”
Stella shrugged. “Been following one or both of my parents through the halls of a hospital for as long as I can remember. Guess I’m just used to it.” She paused a moment and took a breath. “It’s why you left, isn’t it? Too much time in a place like this.”
He squinted against the weak fall sunlight, then slid his sunglasses in place. “How’d you guess?”
“You’re a close family. It would take something big for you to want to leave them.”
“That’s something they never understood. I didn’t want to leave them. I just needed someplace... Hell, I don’t know how to describe it, but I needed to be anywhere that wasn’t Dallas.”
“And you chose someplace completely different, with tall Colorado pines and the mountains in the distance.”
He slumped on one of the metal benches in the courtyard. “Thought you said your bedside manner sucked. You were pretty good with my whole family. Got my sisters doing something other than panicking and gave my dad a job to do.”
“That’s only because I knew them. I mean...” She sagged right beside him on the bench. The cold of the metal seeped into her skin through her clothes. She liked Owen’s family, had grown to care about them in the short time she’d spent with them. She couldn’t have been emotionless with them if she’d tried.
Her breath hitched in her chest. She couldn’t have been emotionless with them and she hadn’t tried. Stella had not only functioned as a doctor but also managed to steer that big, loud family into a productive unit because she’d cared. She’d connected with Bethany earlier, too, as they’d talked about Lily. All she’d done was listen.
The key to her unique brand of healing couldn’t be that easy. Or that hard. To allow even a trickle of emotion into her work violated everything her parents had always cautioned and advised.
Stella stood, her abrupt movement kicking up a few pebbles at her feet. “I need to borrow your phone.”
“Sure, of course. Damn, Stella, with all that’s been going on, I forgot you wanted to call your roommate. Good thing I charged it over lunch.” Owen dug into his pocket and wrangled out his phone.
She nodded. “It’s okay. I won’t be long.”
After a few rings, Janey answered. “Thought you would be home by now. Did your test run late?” her friend asked.
“Test?” Stella’s heart began to pound.
“Yeah, you called last night to tell me you were going to volunteer for one of those drug trials.”
Although really hazy a vague memory clicked into place like tumblers on a lock safe. Her hands began to tremble and she gripped Owen’s phone tighter. No one had drugged them last night with intent to rob them or do them harm. She’d volunteered to be drugged. Though experimental medication didn’t explain how she’d ended up handcuffed and naked in a bathtub—wait, scratch that. Yes, actually, it did. One look at Mr. Not For Her and she would have instantly wanted Owen. Add close proximity and maybe a little drug loopiness and, yeah, she’d handcuff herself to the man.
A few more tidbits of information and she could find her car and her phone. “Did I say which company I volunteered with last night?”
“Uh, Pharma something.”
“That’s helpful,” she grumbled. “Half the developers probably have Pharma in their name.”
“Sorry, Stella. I—”
“No, I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t think I got a lot of sleep last night.” As evidenced by the tenderness of some of her more intimate muscles. “I’m just cranky. My car’s not in the parking lot, by any chance?”
Please be there. Please be there.
“Nope. I don’t see it.”
Stella’s shoulders slumped. Well, she couldn’t expect Janey to solve every mystery. But she could figure it all out with a bit of reason. If her car wasn’t at her apartment and it wasn’t at the hotel, the most likely place would be the testing facility. “I’ll be home in a bit. Oh, wait, will you be home?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I might have lost my keys last night.”
“You?” Janey asked, her voice teasing. “That doesn’t sound like something the most responsible person in the world would do.”
“Yeah. You know what else isn’t something I would do? I ended my man-drought, too. I’ll be home in a bit.”
Janey gasped. “Wait. Stella, you—”
Stella couldn’t stop a broad smile from crossing her face. “Sorry, gotta go.” She pressed the End button, enjoying the tiny bit of joy that shot through her from her teasing torment. Whoa. The Perkins clan was rubbing off on her.
She found Owen gazing down at a row of ants on the ground as they moved from underneath a rock to a pile of leaves and back again. He’d escaped to the rugged and wild West to heal after his sister’s death. Their hotel room had looked out over a gorgeous courtyard. The man enjoyed nature. But it was more than that. A refuge. Stella decided to hang back and allow him to be alone with his thoughts.
But he glanced up just as she took a step away. Owen straightened, dusted his hands off his jeans and smiled at her. “All done?”
She nodded, because what else could she do? This gorgeous man, who fought fires for a living and parachuted into places most everyone else would run screaming from, smiled at her like she was the best thing he’d seen. Her heart went all fluttery and she swallowed, because he was the best thing she’d seen, too.
Of course she knew all about the heady combination of adrenaline and dopamine and serotonin that made rational human beings risk everything for more of the love drugs. Her mind didn’t remember the rush she must have shared with this man, but her body sure did. Or maybe her body didn’t remember, either, but anticipated something fiery with him, because if (when?) they got together beneath the sheets, the sex between them would be explosive.
His phone buzzed in her hand, and she glanced down to see he’d gotten a text. “For you,” she said and handed it over to him. His fingers were rough and calloused in places, and his light grazing touch sent a shaft of sensation down her arm.
Owen punched in the code for his phone. His head fell back after he read the text, his face seeking the sun. Her shoulders tensed. “News?” she asked.
He looked at her. “The best. Gram’s in a room and she’s responding to the saline flush. She’s sleepy but wants us to visit her tomorrow. We’re also to save her at least one piece of the chocolate cake.”
Stella laughed. “That’s great. My roommate gave me some good news, too. Or at least some info that’s a relief. We weren’t drugged last night. I volunteered for some kind of overnight drug trial. I must have met you there.”
Comprehension flooded his gaze, and he nodded. “That makes sense. Ever since Lily...”
He didn’t have to finish his sentence. Ever since his sister’s death, Owen must have volunteered to be a human guinea pig so others might not have to suffer or die like Lily. If Stella didn’t already have a serious case of want for this man, she would now.
“So, I, uh—” she began.
“Well, if you’re—” He stopped. “You first.”
“I was going to ask if you’d drop me off at my apartment. You probably want to get back to your family.”
“What about finding your car, and your purse?”
“I’m sure my car is at the testing lab. I must have, uh, left with you.” Heat flooded her cheeks at the admission she’d wanted this man so badly she hadn’t even bothered to secure her vehicle.
“We’ve got the handcuffs off. We might as well stop off at the hotel first for your purse.”
Stella had never been one to argue with logic, but she really wanted to at the moment. Which, yeah, was pretty childish, but the prospect of returning to the scene of their lovemaking created a ton of flutters in her stomach.
&nb
sp; Was she afraid she couldn’t resist him? Absolutely. No way could she battle against her desire for him any longer. All afternoon she’d teetered on the edge of admitting just how much she wanted him. The long glances. The teasing kisses. It had been one long afternoon of foreplay. Heightened by the emotional danger and turmoil of waking up naked with a stranger, finding those notes, the knock at the door and finally his grandmother’s health scare.
But that was exactly the reason why they had to stick to the plan. Desire and emotion would wreck her entire life plan. So they’d go to the hotel, grab her purse and say goodbye. A simple, rational plan. What could go wrong?
8
THE SUITED ATTENDANT at the amazing hand-carved check-in desk of the Market Gardens eyed their clothes with a raise of the eyebrow. Owen was wearing the same clothes he’d been wearing yesterday, and she was wearing a grandma blouse.
“Perkins. There was supposed to be an item left for me at the front desk,” Owen said, his voice not unfriendly but curt. In fact, his entire demeanor had been abrupt since he’d slid in beside her on the quilt-covered bench of the truck. He’d spoken little as he drove through the Dallas streets, his fingers drumming random patterns on the steering wheel.
The attendant typed something on the discreetly hidden keypad. “Yes, housekeeping recovered the purse and returned it to your room.”
“I checked out this morning. It was supposed to have been left for us here.”
The clerk typed in a few more words, but his brow furrowed at whatever message must have popped up on his screen. “I’m sorry for any confusion. We have you checking out tomorrow at noon. I’m more than happy to cancel your reservation, but then you’ll have to wait for security to enter the room on your behalf to retrieve the purse again.”
“How long would that take?” Stella asked, feeling cranky and restless and ready to get out of here.