Hurricane Season

by Amanda McIntyre

  Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Sable Hunter. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Hell Yeah! remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Sable Hunter, or their affiliates or licensors.

  For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds

  Hurricane Season

  An End of the Line novella

  (Hell Yeah! Kindle World)

  By

  Amanda McIntyre

  Chapter One

  Another anniversary. Not the kind that folks wanted to remember. The other kind. The kind that reopens the wound you thought healed and discover each year, you’re not all that much further ahead in the game.

  Gavin stared out the window overlooking the busy hospital parking lot. People came and went, blissfully going about their days—husbands and wives, mother’s and their children—all blissfully unaware how life could change on a dime.

  “Dr. Beauregard. Your last patient is ready for you in exam three. Just a quick follow up to that facial surgery on the Samuelson boy’s eyebrow.” His nurse, a seasoned pediatric nurse with over twenty years on her tires gave him a slanted grin. “Bet you never had anything of this kind of stuff with those sweet girls of yours, did you?”

  Gavin tossed her a raised brow. Little did she know how he’d have given his right arm to have been around for such experiences. So many years out of his reach. Now they were on the brink of thirteen and with any luck, he’d have the opportunity to share this chapter of their lives—if he could convince them to move from all they’d ever known to rough and rugged Montana. “Just heading into the garden variety hormonal changes, along with boy issues, social pressure and the must-haves in their lives. No stitches yet, that I’m aware of.”

  He saw the flicker of pity pass through her eyes. It was all too familiar with people who knew his story. Damn, he didn’t need that. “I don’t suppose it’s legal yet to just lock them up until they’re ready for the reality of dating—say, maybe thirty, or so?” He attempted a grin.

  Barb shrugged and shook her head. “Mine is going through a nasty divorce tight now. I understand what you’re saying. Guess we can’t protect them forever from reality.” She gave him a look. “We can only do our best, right?”

  He nodded, though he’d felt as though his best had been going through the motions to get through each day. He hated summer. Hated August. Hated remembering what fate had blessed him with and stolen from him—all on the same day. “Thanks, Barb. I’ll be right there.” He picked up the pamphlet he’d tossed on his desk. His friend Patrick O’Rourke had sent it. Patrick and his wife, Savannah, members of the Louisiana Cultural Society had come up with a gala fundraiser to help restore some of the historical homes along the River Road. It was to be held at Evermore plantation. A place where Gavin had spent a fair amount of time in the summers getting into trouble with Patrick, who had lived there with his grandfather—its head grounds-keeper for many years. Course, he’d had to hide his friendship with the young Mr. O’Rourke from his parents. His father, in particular, who preferred to see Gavin reading or embarking on some educational quest. There’d have been hell to pay had he known some of the shenanigans they’d gotten into-everything from spying on the family living there, to building tree forts and trying to catch small gators down in the swamps.

  Gavin smiled. Those were carefree days, spent riding his bike on the backroads, exploring the forbidden, reading his first Hustler magazine. He wondered if his favorite copy was still tucked under the loose floorboard in his old bedroom at the cottage.

  These days, Evermore was owned by an architect from Texas by the name of Nash Walker. He and his wife, Dr. Somersby Ingler ran the place now as a tourist attraction and destination venue for weddings and meetings.

  He dropped the invitation on his desk and refocused on completing his patient load for the day. Given the charts piled up on his desk, he’d be lucky to get out of there before midnight.

  Two hours later, he leaned forward and flipped on the desk lamp to alleviate some of the strain to his eyes. He peeled off his glasses and rubbed his eyelid, debating whether to see if the cafeteria was still open.

  “Good night, Dr. B.” Barb stuck her head around the door of his small office. “I do hope you’re going to do something fun on this three-day weekend you have coming up.” She tossed him a wink and a smile. “You need to get out some.”

  He lifted his hand and nodded. He’d heard the phrase more than once in the past few years. Guilt prevented him from having fun. The silence in the now empty clinic seemed to comfort him. Silence had become a friend. If he didn’t want to think about certain things--people—he didn’t have to.

  His cell phone rang, startling him as he fished it from the deep pockets of his lab coat. He glanced at the number and grinned. It was Camille, one of his daughters calling from France where she and her sister, Elenora had been vacationing with their grandparents and visiting relatives.

  “Hey, sweetheart. This is an unexpected surprise,” Gavin leaned back in his desk chair.

  “Omigod, you’re not on a date, are you?” his daughter asked.

  He waited a heartbeat, then answered. “Uh, no. But if I was it wouldn’t really be any of your business, now would it?”

  “Come on, dad.” Her tone slapped his conscience. Both girls and his mother had been encouraging—make that haranguing–him to start dating again.

  “I’m here at the office catching up on some paperwork.”

  “Seriously? Dad, you should be out having some fun. I mean, seriously, you aren’t getting any younger and I highly doubt that women are going to flock to your office to check you out.”

  “And how old are you again? Listen, baby girl, I appreciate your concern, really, I do. But I’m not exactly withering on the vine just yet. Not that it’s any of your concern.”

  He’d chosen to be frank and clinical when discussions of health—body, mind, and spirit—came up. It made his mother frown at how openly his girls talked about the opposite sex and matters related, but he was a doctor and he didn’t want anything to be candy-coated. Now that they’d gotten older, and presumably wiser, the frank education he’d encouraged was coming back to bite him in the butt.

  “Clocks ticking, dad.”

  “Where’s your grandma?” he asked.

  “She and grandpa are across the street haggling with a vendor over a scarf that grandma wants. She thinks it’s too much money. I don’t get it. I think she likes to argue for the sake of arguing, because the woman has more money than God.”

  “Camille, you’ll watch your mouth when it comes to speaking about your grandma. For starters, she is a shrewd businesswoman.”

  “But dad--” Camille began to protest.

  “And you two are more alike than you think,” he added. Camille had the personality like her mother--adventurous, a bit impulsive, candid. She and Elenora were polar opposites for identical twins.

  Her heard a snort, then his other daughter’s voice from nearby. There was a shuffling of the phone, then his level-headed, quiet Ellie came on the line. He liked to think she got her patience from him. Aside from their dark hair and blue yes, both had smiles identical to their mother—a mother they’d never had the chance to meet. Gavin, pushed back the dark memories of that fateful day in August. “Hey, Ellie-bell, you guys having a good time?” Good lord, he missed his girls—strange teenage hormones on the horizon and all. “I hope you two are being good for your grandparents.”

  “Complete angels, dad. You can ask grandma”

  “Let me have the phone
back, Ellie,” he heard Camille order in the background. He needed to end this before World War III erupted on French soil.

  “Listen, girls, this call is costing me a small fortune. Could we stop the bickering, please? Tell me what you’ve done. Have you met some of grandpa’s relatives? Tried new food?”

  Camille had confiscated her phone. “Oh, dad you can’t believe what a good cook Aunt Evangeline is. She’s amazing. Seriously, I bet I’ve gained five pounds since we arrived.”

  “I’m sure that your grandparents are making sure you’ll walk it off.” He smiled, remembering family vacations he’d taken when he was young. He was eternally grateful that the girls had grandparents that wanted to share the same experiences with their grandkids as they had with him.

  “Sounds like you two are having a great time. I miss you like crazy. Hey, I’ve been looking into the idea of maybe seeing if I can find a small ranch. Maybe we could get a couple of horses. What would you girls think of that?”

  “What? Like we’d have to ride them to the school house on the prairie, dad? For real?”

  Discussion of this topic was not a popular one. But he understood their hesitancy. They’d gone to the same school since they were in Pre-K. At the time, his mother had convinced him that it was the best thing for the girls with things being the way they were after Katrina. It’d given him an excuse to dive into humanitarian work, partnering with free clinics offering care to those who had no insurance, and who had in some cases, lost everything.

  His father had been furious that he’d turned down offers to join his father’s team of doctors at Ochsner. But what sealed his father’s anger was the day he’d accepted a call from a colleague in Billings, Montana who offered him a prestigious job as head of Pediatrics at Billings Medical. He’d wanted to pack up the girls, but his mother had advised he leave the girls with them, and in school until he was fully settled. There was no need to disrupt their lives until then.

  In the end, he realized leaving them in school where things were familiar was best. But he also suspected that his mother’s reasoning had more to do with the hope he’d see Montana wasn’t for him and he’d return home and set up practice. Still, as much as he loved New Orleans, the painful memory of losing Olivia to Katrina left a deep scar on his heart.

  He understood his girls had established their circle of friends, social groups they participated in, activities…and he knew his mother loved having them under her wing. But there were gaping holes in his life that he’d just begun to fill with new friends in a nearby town and he wanted his girls—his family back together again before they started high school.

  “Dad, we’ve got to go. Grandpa is waving us over,” Camille said. “Talk to you soon. Oh, and dad,”—Camille used a tone far too mature for his comfort—“it’s the weekend. Why don’t you go out on a date or something?”

  He glanced at the invitation. Maybe it was time he dipped his toe back into the dating pool again. He could lie and tell himself the reason he considered going to New Orleans was purely social. But the truth was, he needed to see Olivia, talk with her. And no one would understand that. “You two be good for your grandparents and I’ll see you in another week or so. I love you guys.”

  “Love you, too, dad. Miss you.”

  “Keep an eye on each other, okay?” His heart twisted a bit with the thought that they were an ocean apart. World travel was an amazing advantage his girls had, but he’d be just as glad to have them back here closer to him. “Think about the idea of moving up here with me, okay?”

  “Sure thing, dad. Hey, grandpa is getting antsy.”

  “Go. Bye. Love you.” The call disconnected. Gavin picked up the hinged picture frame. One side showed him and his very pregnant wife, Olivia just before he left for a two-week Doctors Abroad stint in Haiti. She wasn’t due for another month. The other picture was of him and his girls from a trip last summer they’d taken together.

  He glanced again at the invitation, snapped off his desk lamp, and was calling up his flight app as he headed out the door.

  ***

  “I’m telling you, bi brother. It’s that white-knight syndrome thing you have happening all over again.” Caroline impatiently tapped one painted nail against her cell phone. Her brother had been dating the same woman for almost a year, their friendship rekindled when her brother aided in rescuing her and her boys from her crazy ex. He’d met her back in college, the sister of one of his buddies…

  “Thanks for your concern, sis. But I gotta go. My client is here.”

  Of course,” she sighed and hung up, tossing the phone on the kitchen island in her frustration. That brother of hers could be as stubborn as a mule. Oh sure, she was happy that he’d found someone that he wanted to settle down and spend the rest of his life with, but in doing so, meant he’d be moving to that podunk little Montana town where his fiancé now lived. Where every time she visited, she felt like an outcast among the rugged cowboys and small town folk. Never mind that her old flame was married and happy as a clam, or that her brother would soon be a ready-made family man taking his kids to the football games on Friday nights.

  Never mind that she’d be left alone in her ritzy, downtown Chicago loft wondering when the next Prada bag was coming out. Hell no, she wasn’t lonely. Just maybe a little bored with her life at present. She hadn’t been out on a date with a man who she’d found interesting in months. Most were interested in talking about themselves, their accomplishments--far too involved with whether they’d presented something she couldn’t say no to at the end of the night.

  She leaned her elbows on the cool granite island. Nope, the real reason she was frustrated with what this woman was doing to her brother by putting off setting a date. Was because her hesitancy smacked too closely to what she’d done to that cowboy friend of her brother’s—the one now happily married to someone else. Yeah, they’d met back in college and lord have mercy was it hot. But in their last semester of school, she’d heard wind that he was setting to propose and she’d chickened out taking a student abroad program in Europe. The study turned into longer than planned, included a cavalier young artist she also hadn’t planned, and by the time she returned stateside—said hot cowboy was well on his way to movin’ on.

  Well, so much for sitting here pining about the past. She drummed her palms on the countertop. She should be happy for her brother, she’d accepted his proposal and that was further than she’d done.

  Sighing deeply, she meandered to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the lakeshore. The site of the sun reflecting off the jagged skyline towers was home to her. The hustle and bustle of the city—the noises, the smells. Heck, no. Of course, she wasn’t lonely. She loved being single. Making her own choices. Not having to consider the thoughts or choices of another person.

  She turned and was about to dive into her drawer of take-out options to “fix” dinner when her phone rang. Vibrating, face-down on the counter, Caroline skirted around the island and snatched up the phone. A thrill shot through her when she recognized the number. It was her sorority sis and college roommate, Louise Benoit—named after the state from which she was born and raised. The woman had a drawl three feet deep, and a heart as good as any saint.

  “Louise? It’s been forever! How are you?” Caroline slid up on one of the chrome and leather stools gracing the breakfast bar.

  “Well, something’s come up and I’ve got a little proposition for you,” her friend said.

  “Please tell me that you’re at the airport and need me to pick you up! And of course, you can stay here.” Caroline didn’t hide her enthusiasm.

  “Well, no, I’m not there. But I’ve rented the most adorable little place down her just north of New Orleans on the River road.”

  Caroline, a lover of the design of the old plantation homes, sighed. “Oh, I love those old homes. What’s up?”

  “I received a last-minute invitation to a gala fundraiser down here at the Evermore. My boss and his wife couldn’t attend and he tho
ught it would be a good idea to send someone from the preservation society to attend. I, of course said yes. Duh.”

  Caroline snorted. “Duh.”

  “So,” her friend continued. “I thought maybe I’d see if you could catch a flight tonight and join me down here for this shindig. I know its last minute, but I know you love this kind of thing.”

  “Tonight?” Caroline’s brain scattered six ways to Sunday. “I don’t know if I can find anything at this hour, but I’d love to join you. Gosh, it’s been too long. We have a lot to catch up on.”

  “True enough and just to make the pot sweeter, I hear there is going to be a whole lotta them southern boys milling around. What do you say? You could be my plus one.”

  “Wow, from the Chicago summer heat to Louisiana humidity.” She paused. “You said southern boys?” She faked a drawl. Secretly, she’d already begun packing her travel bag.

  “I have a car and I can pick you up. Just tell me when and where,” Louise all but placed the cherry on top of a delectable offering to appease her lonely weekend. Were she to admit she was lonely, that is.

  “I’ll call you with the details.”

  One carry-on later, Caroline had settled into her seat on the last flight out of Midway from a connecting flight out of Minneapolis to New Orleans. Whatever was happening down south was certainly creating a draw.

  She’d packed sparingly. Deciding only the necessities for a girl’s weekend with her bestie with perhaps a quick trip to the city to find a suitable dress for the gala. Louise had sent pictures of the beautiful country cottage she’d rented through the owner who was out of the country. Serene and quaint, Caroline could think of no better way to relax than sitting on a porch drinking wine and catching up with her friend for a couple of days.

  “Ladies and gentleman, this is your captain. Just want to let you know that we’re expecting clear sailing out of Chicago tonight on our way to New Orleans. There have been reports of a little tropical disturbance building up in the Gulf. But we’ll keep you apprised of any changes. For now, sit back and relax. Your attendant will be stopping by shortly.”