"Jesus, Allie," Bri protested indignantly. "Don't say that about her."
"Why not? She's drop-dead gorgeous and built likelike Xena."
"Oh, please." Bri made a choking sound. "Xena is such a girl. Reese would kick Xena's ass."
Allie threw a sofa pillow at her. "Would not."
"Would too." Bri threw it back. When they stopped laughing, Bri said solemnly, "Reese and Tory are special."
"I know." Allie leaned down and set her coffee cup on the table. She regarded Bri solemnly. "I bet you and Caroline will be like them someday. That's cool. I'm gonna go get dressed."
"How about I start breakfast?"
"Do you know how?" Allie asked suspiciously.
"Sure." Bri reached up and caught Allie's hand, squeezing it gently for a second. "And Allie? Thanks."
"Yeah, yeah. Don't burn anything in there, okay?"
"Don't worry. You can trust me,"
"I know," Allie said softly as she disappeared into her bedroom and quietly closed the door.
Reese surfaced to the sound of the phone ringing and Tory's muted voice in the background,
"Oh hi, Dan," Tory said in a whisper. "No, that's okay...I was planning on coming in this evening, why?...Really? Who?... Now ? I don't know. Reese is still asleep and"
"I'm awake, sweetheart," Reese said as she rolled over and wrapped her arm around Tory's waist. She opened her eyes and saw that Tory had been sitting up in bed reading with the baby asleep in her lap. She rubbed Reggie's back and kissed the side of Tory's breast through the thin tee she wore. "What's going on?"
Tory covered the receiver with her hand. "Dan says the service left word about someone who wants to interview for the position at the clinic. For some reason he just got the message, and whoever it is wants to come in this morning while they're in town for another appointment. Can you take Reggie to Kate and Jean's so I can go over there?"
"Sure."
"Dan?" Tory said into the phone. "I can be there at noon. Do you have a number for me to contact this person?...A name?... Damn, the answering service gets worse and worse all the time. Never mind, I'll just come over as soon as I can. Thanks. Bye."
Tory hung up the phone and stared at Reese. "It looks like there's someone who's really hot for the job. I'm sorry I have to rush out,"
"No problem. I should be getting up anyhow." Reese pushed upright and craned her neck to look at the clock. "Christ! It's almost eleven. I've got to get to work."
"Honey, you didn't get to bed until after six."
"Yeah, but what kept me up until six put me to sleep very nicely." She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood, grinning down at her lover and their child. "I slept like a rock." Reese held out her arms. "Here, let me have sleeping beauty, and I'll get her and all the stuff ready to take to Grandmoms'. You wanna shower first, right?"
"Yes. Thanks, honey." Tory ran a hand distractedly through her hair as she gathered her clothes, "I wish I had some idea what I was walking into. It's very strange that someone just shows up for an interview without arranging things first. I hope they remembered to bring a CV."
"It's Provincetown. Everything is casual here." Reese leaned to kiss Tory's cheek on her way past to the nursery. "Maybe it's fate. It's certainly perfect timing."
"Fate. Yeah, right," Tory sighed.
At eleven thirty, Tory walked through the front door into the waiting room at the East End Health Clinic, which was crowded as always. Randy sketched her a short wave as he talked on the phone and indicated with a roll of his eyes and a frantic motion of his head that her presence was needed in the back.
"What?" Tory asked sotto voce as she passed by the reception desk.
Annoyed, Randy pressed the mouthpiece of the phone to his shoulder. "In your office. Dr. Impatience has been waiting half an hour." Then he ignored Tory's question for details and went back to his call.
"Great," Tory muttered as she pushed through the dividing door into the clinical area beyond. Her office door was partly closed and as she pushed through, she put on her best professional smile. As her eyes took in the woman standing in profile studying the photographs on the wall, Tory stumbled to a halt and barely managed to suppress a gasp.
"KT? What are you doing here?" Tory was aware that her tone sounded accusatory, and not the slightest bit gracious, but her ex-lover was the last person she'd expected to find in her office. They'd barely seen each other in the nearly seven years since they'd separated, and almost ail of those times had been during a medical crisis. Fortunately, the circumstances of those interactions had prevented them from having any true personal exchange, which was just as well. Tory had nothing to say to the woman with whom she had lived for twelve years, and whom she had loved with all her heart and youthful optimism, and who had betrayed their love and left her shattered.
Slowly, KT turned to face Tory fully. "Hi, Vic."
"Oh my God." Tory's stomach roiled as if she'd been punched, and for one terrifying second she was afraid she might be ill. She took one involuntary step forward, her hand raised as if for a caress, before she jerked to a stop. Her voice wavered as she asked, "What happened?~God, KT."
"Bit of a dustup in the trauma unit about a month ago, I ran into a crackhead with a knife." KT shrugged and mustered up a smile. "Looks worse than it is."
It couldn't possibly look any worse than it does, Tory screamed inside. A fresh scar, red and faintly angry looking, crossed KT's right cheek, starting just below her eye and ending at her jaw. It wasn't the injury itself that Tory found so devastating, but imagining KT having been brutalized that way. But it was even more than the healing laceration that was so terribly upsetting. The physician part of her mind reminded Tory that would probably leave a scar that was only minimally deforming. It was the way KT looked. She was thinner than Tory had ever seen her, even when they had both been residents and KT was working like a madwoman 120 hours a week, barely sleeping and usually forgetting to eat. Tory remembered that young surgery resident, so charged with life, so aggressive and charismatic. The woman who faced her now, hollow-eyed and gaunt, wasn't even a ghost of that young warrior. Realizing she was staring, Tory forced her gaze away from KT's haunted eyes and looked down. Then she did cry out. "Oh God, no. Oh, what did he do to you?"
"It's okay, Vic," KT said gently. There was no place she could put her left arm to remove it from Tory's horrified stare. The hand surgeon had taken the cast off only days before, and she wore a molded plastic splint from fingertips to midforearm that kept her damaged fingers protected as well as immobilized with a complicated set of tiny pulleys and bands.
With concerted effort, Tory compelled her mind to rule her emotions. She'd seen every kind of human tragedy and senseless death and loss imaginable. She'd seen far worse than this. It was just the double shock of rinding KT where she'd never expected her to be and seeing her so wounded that had penetrated her defenses before she'd a chance to throw up a shield. She took a breath and when she spoke again, her voice was controlled. "You'd better sit down."
The corner of KT's mouth quirked and she nodded wearily. "Yeah. I guess so."
Tory made her way around behind her desk. Just the act of sitting in the position where she always sat as she performed her professional obligations helped steady her further. "How bad is your hand?"
Tory had never seen KT look away from anythingnot the horrors of a multicar accident or the guilt when Tory caught her in bed with one of the nurses in an on-call room. The fact that she averted her eyes now told Tory more than anything else possibly could. Once again, Tory's stomach threatened to rebel. She threaded her fingers together on top of the desk and leaned forward, her eyes never leaving her former lover's face. "KT?"
"He got the flexors to all four fingers and three of the digital nerves." KT lifted her left hand and let it fall back into her lap. "It's pretty useless."
"Oh, sweetheart," Tory murmured, uttering the old endearment before she realized what she was saying. "I'm so sorry."
&n
bsp; "Well," KT said briskly. "My hand surgeon assures me that if I'm a good patient and work hard, I might get it all back." She grinned humorlessly. "Of course, that's what hand surgeons always say. That way, if you end up with a lousy outcome, they can always blame it on the fact that you didn't work hard enough in therapy."
"If working hard is what's required," Tory said quietly, "then you're going to be fine."
"Absolutely."
Once more, Tory reined in her distress and soul-deep sympathy for the woman whom she had loved so deeply for so long. "What are you doing here? Do you need something?"
"A job."
Tory gaped. "You can't mean here."
"I can't operate, Vic. If I sit around doing nothing, I'm going to go crazy. I can still work, and I heard through the grapevine that you had a position open. Your name still carries weight in Boston, especially since you still work in the ER at Boston City part time."
"It's impossible," Tory said with finality.
"Why?" KT posed the question quietly. "Why, Vic?"
"Because..." I 'm still so angry with you that I can hardly bear to look at you. Because you hurt me so much, and I've wanted to hurt you back for so long. Because I can't stand to see you like this, and I can't believe that anything about you could still hurt me. Tory merely shook her head resolutely.
For the second time that day, KT did something wholly unexpected. She leaned forward, her pain-filled eyes holding on to Tory's as if on to a beacon in a raging sea.
"Please, Victoria. I need this chance."
Why should I care what you need? I needed you. I needed us. You threw it away for a woman you didn't even love. Do you even remember her name now? Damn you, KT. Damn you . Why did you come here? Why could you possibly think that 1 would care?
Abruptly, Tory rose and walked to the windows at the opposite side of the room. There was nothing to see but sand and scrub. With her back to KT, she said, "I can't work with you. Besides, I don't think you can work with only one hand."
From behind her, Tory heard a small sound that might have been a gasp, or a groan. She turned, instantly regretful. "I'm sorry."
KT shook her head. "I know what you mean. I can work, though. I can see patients. I can write prescriptions. I can read x-rays. I can do almost anything that needs to be done." She shuddered as if with a sudden chill. "Except operate. I'd have to have help if someone needed suturing. But with a good medical assistant or a nurse, I could manage. I'd be pretty slow, probably, but"
"Stop," Tory said softly. There was something that sounded terribly like begging in KT's voice, and for some reason, that nearly broke her heart.
"Sorry." KT stood and made a visible effort to straighten. "Well, thanks."
"What about your hand therapy? How can you work while you're in therapy?"
"I've made some inquiries. One of the nurses in the ER told me about a friend of hers who's an occupational therapist specializing in hand rehab. Apparently she got tired of living in the city and moved out here a year ago. She works primarily in the hospital in Hyannis, but I think I could set up something for private consults right here in town. Then I could fit my rehab into whatever schedule you needed me to work." KT gripped the back of the chair in which she had previously been sitting, the knuckles of her right hand white with strain. "You need someone, right? Do you have anyone else you're considering?"
"1 have to think about it. I have to talk to Reese."
KT blinked. "How is she? And...Regina."
"They're fine." Tory's expression softened at the memory that it had been KT who had been there for her and Reese and the baby when everything had suddenly gone wrong. And that if it hadn't been for KT, Regina could very well have suffered. "The baby's beautiful, KT. Thank you."
"Yeah, well." KT smiled. "You're her mother. Of course she's beautiful."
Tory said nothing, torn between so many memories filled with so much happiness and so much pain. "Leave me your number. I'll call you."
"I'm ready to start today."
"I'll call you."
Nodding, KT extracted her wallet from the back pocket of her trousers and walked to Tory's desk. She placed the wallet down on the surface, fumbled it open one-handed, and finally managed to pull out a business card. "Got a pen?"
Silently, Tory handed her one, unable to look at the motionless fingers inside the splint on KT's left hand. KT turned the card over and scrawled a number on the back, then put down the pen and handed the card to Tory.
"My home number is on the front. I'm not there very often, and I usually can't remember how to check the answering machine remotely. I wrote my cell on the back. You can always get me on that."
Tory resolutely avoided thinking about where KT was probably spending her nights if she was rarely at home. "I'll let you know by tomorrow."
"Thanks. Goodbye, Vic."
"Goodbye, KT," Tory said softly as she watched the stranger whom she once had loved walk out the door.
Chapter Seven
K T walked out the front door of the clinic, stopped at the bottom of the stairs, and waited for the queasiness in her stomach to dissipate. She'd anticipated the difficulty in asking for a job. What she hadn't expected was how very hard it would be to see Tory again. This was the longest they had been alone together since that afternoon she'd returned home from her interrupted tryst in the on-call room to find Tory waiting in the living room, hollow-eyed and so terribly wounded. The apology she'd intended to make had died on her lips when she was faced with the enormity of Tory's pain. As had been the case just moments before, on that day she'd simply waited in silence for Tory's judgment. It had been swift and irrevocable.
"Get out, KT. Get out now and don't come back."
Get out, KT. Get out...Get out...
Involuntarily, KT fisted her hands. A river of pain surged in her damaged arm, nearly unbearable. Severed nerves screamed, and inflamed blood vessels pulsed and throbbed. Nausea rose in her already unsettled stomach, and she bit back a moan as she fought to stay upright. Unconsciously, she felt in her right-hand pants pocket for one of the small white tablets and dry swallowed it. Then she took a deep breath and forced herself to focus on her surroundings, relegating her regrets to the past and forcing the pain down to manageable levels.
The parking lot was crowded with patients' cars and enclosed by scrub pines, low bushes, and sand dunes. Overhead, the sky was clear blue with fluffy white clouds that were so postcard perfect they didn't seem real. As she watched, a seagull actually coasted by, wings spread, white body gliding on the air. The idyllic picture was a far cry from the bustling, exhaust-fume-sullied streets of
Boston and the pressure-cooker atmosphere of the trauma center. From the turmoil of her life. She'd been on a roller-coaster ride of highs and lows for fifteen years, from the day she'd started her residency in surgery. She'd battled for a place on the team with the big boys, and she'd bested most of them at the high-stakes game of life and death in the trauma ER. Along the way, she'd garnered a reputation for being decisive in a crisis, fast in the OR, and faster with the ladies. The pace and the challenge had suited her need for the adrenaline infusion that came with living on the edge. There was only one thing missing. One huge aching void. Tory.
As if to remind her that there was no going back, a police cruiser pulled into the gravel-and-sand parking lot and slowed to a halt twenty feet away, and Reese Conlon stepped out. The last time KT had seen the sheriff, they'd been standing side by side in the pediatric intensive care unit, gazing down in mutual awe at Tory's newborn daughter. Reese and Tory's baby daughter. KT braced herself as she held the gaze of the steely-eyed woman who approached.
"KT," Reese said evenly as she stopped two feet away. The brim of her hat was pulled low, obscuring her eyes. The rest of her face was unreadable.
"Reese."
Reese's gaze traveled from the laceration on KT's cheek down her body, lingering for a moment on her left arm, and then returning to her shadow-filled eyes. "You doing okay?"
"Things are good. I won't bore you with the baby pictures."
KT's dark eyes flashed, even though Reese's voice held no hint of victory. "Tory says she's beautiful."
"Yes." Reese considered the earlier phone call and KT's presence at the clinic, and made the obvious connection. "Just finished your interview?"
"A few minutes ago." KT scrutinized Reese's face for some sign of anger or aggression. Nothing. Total control. Impressive. "Problem with that?"
"Not my call."
"If it was?"
Slowly, Reese shook her head. "It's not. I need to see Tory for a few minutes. Can I give you a lift somewhere after that?"
"No, thanks. I feel like a walk."
"Good enough. I'll see you around, then."
"Maybe." KT flashed a grin. "I guess that will be up to Tory."
Reese said nothing, merely nodding as she turned and walked toward the clinic. KT followed Reese's powerful form as she took the four stairs up to the front door two at a time, her movements graceful and quick. She was an. imposingly attractive woman. Not the kind of woman KT was interested in bedding, but a worthy opponent, and therefore exciting nonetheless. She tried not to imagine Tory in Reese's arms as she made her way out to the street and headed toward the center of town.
Forty minutes later, KT realized that a.two-mile walk in the middle of the day in early September wasn't the brightest idea. She was hot and thirsty and light-headed by the time she found the address she was looking for on the far west end of Commercial Street. A white half-Codder with baby blue shutters sat at the far end of a narrow driveway behind a much larger guesthouse that bore a historic sign indicating it was one of the original structures in the Provincetown settlement. At the end of the driveway fronting the street, a discreet, hand-painted wood sign hung from a curved wrought-iron post: Pia Torres, PT, OT, CMT.
KT was halfway to the small cottage before she noticed the woman kneeling by one corner of the small porch, tending a flower bed filled with day lilies and a profusion of brightly colored annuals. A wooden box holding garden tools rested by her side. At the sound of KT's footsteps, the woman looked up. KT's immediate impression was one of searching dark eyes, glossy midnight hair that glinted in the bright sunlight, and acres of smooth sienna skin. A sleeveless T-shirt and white boat shorts left her slender, well-toned arms and her shapely legs bare. KT stopped on the sidewalk and nodded in greeting. The answering smile was warm and open.
Radclyffe - Safe Harbor 03 - Distant Shores, Silent Thunder Page 6