Meeting her anxious gaze, he knew one thing for certain. Whatever he had to do to keep her with him, he would do. Her love was all that mattered. The rest would work itself out. “As your doctor, I’d like to prescribe something that will set us on the right pathway.”
“What would that be?”
“First, I’m discharging you home to your mother until you get your insulin regulated.”
She gripped the railing. “Hey! I’m not a kid!”
He took her by the shoulders and laid her back down gently. “You’re not a kid, but your mother and I don’t want to worry about you any more than we have to.”
“You don’t have—”
“No more arguing,” he said firmly. “I’m sure the hospital will welcome you back, given how short-staffed they are. On top of that, tomorrow I’m taking you out for a drive under medical supervision.”
“What?”
“I’m inviting you on a picnic to Cranberry Point. You and I are going on a date.”
“A date? Cranberry Point? I love it there. I’ve always loved it.”
“It’s the perfect setting for something I should have done when I first moved back.”
“And that would be?”
Kissing her right now was out of the question. There were too many people waiting to make their relationship fodder for the gossip mill.
“Unfortunately, you’ll have to wait until your mother gives her okay.”
“My mother?”
“Yep. You’re going home, and your mother is staying with you overnight. That’s the only circumstances under which I’ll take you out to the point.”
“Not fair. Definitely not fair,” she groused, but she was grinning at him. That old grin that told him she was up for any challenge he might toss her way.
He felt good. So impossibly good. The happiest he’d felt in months. Make that years.
“Behave yourself and get some rest. I’ll pick you up around eleven.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE NEXT MORNING, the kind of morning where the air hung with the scent of lilacs and the sun promised unfettered light, Neill pulled into Sherri’s driveway. For the first time since he’d moved home, he felt hopeful. He pulled to a stop as Sherri came out the door of her condo.
He jumped out of his SUV and started up the walk toward her. “You look great,” he said. With her blond hair flowing around her shoulders and her blue T-shirt fitting every curve of her body, she made his blood run hot.
“Thanks.” Smiling up at him, she passed over the picnic basket. “Mom’s contribution to our day.”
He took the basket from her as they walked toward the passenger door. “So, how was her grocery shopping trip?”
“Let’s just say there isn’t a spare inch of shelf space left in my kitchen, and my fridge is positively burdened with veggies.”
He opened the door for her, ridiculously happy at the prospect of having her sitting across the console from him. He was tempted to do a jig around the back of the vehicle and had to force himself to walk slowly and deposit the picnic basket in the back before climbing into the driver’s seat. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t get his hopes up about today, but with Sherri beside him, the intimacy of the two of them alone in his vehicle, his expectations soared.
They drove north out of town toward the interstate and turned left onto the coast road that led down toward the ocean. The conversation was easy and the day inviting. He could tell by her response that she was as happy to be out on a day like today as he was.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Never better, despite Mom’s constant worried glances.”
The doctor in him wanted to quiz her further for any more symptoms, but he held back. Sherri would bring her concerns to him when and if she needed him. He had to believe that. “I was so relieved to hear you say you weren’t moving to Portsmouth.”
“Why?”
He could feel her eyes on him and knew that trying to duck the question would simply mean that she’d rephrase it. He gripped the steering wheel tighter. “From the moment I got back here in Eden Harbor and discovered that you were working at the hospital, I wanted a second chance.” He glanced over quickly before continuing. “Now I can’t imagine Eden Harbor without you,” he said, not daring to look her way for fear that she’d admonish him for presuming such a thing.
“Did I mention how relieved I was to find you staring down at me when I woke in Emergency?”
“Is that what they mean when they say good things come out of bad ones?” he asked, determined to keep her talking.
“It is in our case. I’m glad you and I are getting a real chance to talk. Having you back here has been unimaginably difficult for me.”
His head filled with a mix of excitement and trepidation; he held his breath. “Go on.”
“Even though I told myself that I was leaving for a better career and the opportunity to meet new people, your return was my biggest reason for getting out of here.”
“And now?”
The only sound in the vehicle was the gentle roar of the engine as it geared down to climb the hill leading out to the bluff overlooking the water. “I called the nursing department at Portsmouth General and told them I wouldn’t be taking the job.”
He let the air slide from his lungs. “What’s next for you?”
“Hopefully, the hospital will have a position for me. In the meantime, I’m going to continue making the adjustments I need to live with my diabetes.”
“A lot of people are going to be pleased to hear you’ve changed your mind.”
“And that includes you?” Her eyes squinted just a little.
“I’m definitely in that group. But are you sure about this? It’s your future.”
She sighed as she pushed her hair off her forehead. “I am. I belong here.”
Here with me? Was she about to say that she wanted to be with me? It couldn’t be that easy, not after all this time.
Once they reached the small community of Cranberry Point and the general store where the turnoff to the actual point was, Neill eased the SUV over the bumpy entrance to the narrow road leading down to the plateau at the water’s edge. When they reached the picnic site situated above the roaring surf, he turned the vehicle around to face back up the hill before getting the things out of the back. Sherri helped him spread the blanket and placed the picnic hamper along one edge. They sat down, facing a narrow inlet of water where waves rippled and sparkled in the sun, while the gulls screamed and dived toward the water.
“All the times I’ve been out here, I didn’t realize you could see back along the road leading in here,” Sherri said, pointing to the stretch of narrow track they’d just driven over.
He followed the line of her finger. “It’s a dangerous piece of road, and one that hasn’t gotten any better over the years,” he said.
She raised her face to the sun, exposing the open neck of her shirt and the swell of her breasts against the smooth fabric. “I can’t come here with you without remembering those other trips we made here.”
“Our version of a wild date,” he said, feeling a rush of hot need roaring through him. She had never looked as beautiful as she did at this moment, and he couldn’t seem to collect his scattered thoughts long enough to say anything intelligent.
So much for your big plan to state your case and entice her back into your life with your tender pitch.
He wanted to touch her hair, run his fingers over her neck, kiss her senseless. Instead, he said, “Sherri, I’ve been wanting to tell you something ever since I got back. It has to do with why I made the decision to return to Eden Harbor.”
She turned to him, her eyes looking directly into his, driving him to find the words to explain his life and what it had been like these past few years. “I don�
��t have to tell you that everyone, including me, assumed that I would continue to live and practice in a big center like Boston. In fact, when Uncle Nicolas first suggested that I come back here, I refused. I couldn’t imagine being here practicing medicine.” His glance took in the sweep of green washing over the sloping ground toward the distant beach, making him wonder how it was that he hadn’t missed this place all those years. And now he couldn’t imagine leaving it.
“Then one night about a year ago I was working in Emergency when a young single mother came in with her daughter, who was only ten years old, a year older than Morgan is now. Despite our best efforts and all the technology available to us, the daughter died of an aneurysm before we could save her. It wasn’t until I went to talk to the mother that I realized she had no family members she could call on for support, as all of her family lived out in California. There wasn’t an aunt, uncle, grandparent or any family member this woman could call on to help her face the death of her daughter. I will never forget watching her walk out of the emergency department alone that night.”
“Did she not have friends?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. The nurses offered to call someone for her, but she seemed too distraught to give them a name.”
“What a terrible way to lose your child.”
“It was awful, but it had a profound influence on me. The next time my uncle phoned and brought up the subject of me coming home again, I finally understood what he meant. Living near family is what I want for Morgan...and for me.”
“Go on.”
“When Lilly decided to move to Houston, I realized that moving farther away from my home was out of the question.”
“I understand what you mean.” She touched his hand where it rested on his thigh, sending heat flashing through him.
He leaned toward her. The floral scent of her hair, the heat of the sun on her skin urged him to kiss her. She tilted her chin up, her eyes on his, her lips parted. Giving in to the moment, he kissed her gently, drawing her lips to his, savoring her smell, the touch of her fingers on his cheek as she sighed and focused all her attention on him.
He gathered her in his arms, pulling her body against him, his hands eagerly stroking the soft skin of her throat. She pulled back a little and gazed up into his eyes, and in her expression he read her uncertainty.
Don’t blow this!
He eased away from her, his eyes searching hers. “We’ll take it slow. I promise.”
They sat together, their arms around each other, listening to the pounding of the ocean on the rocks, the keening cry of the gulls as they swooped above the rock face. High above, an American bald eagle glided into view, its wings horizontal to the earth as it soared above the headland.
“It is so beautiful,” she exclaimed, shielding her eyes from the light as she watched the huge bird float gracefully across the sky.
Neill followed the bird’s easy glide over the point, his gaze drifting to the road directly below the bird’s flight path. He could sit there next to Sherri for the entire day, he mused as he spotted a half-ton truck making a rapid turn onto the track from the highway, its wheels spitting gravel, the rear tires fishtailing as the truck headed down over the edge of the road. Instead of slowing down, the vehicle picked up speed, coming dangerously close to the precipice and the sheer drop to the rocks protruding below.
“What the hell?”
Sherri followed his gaze. “Oh, Neill! What’s the driver doing? That truck is out of control!”
Neill jumped to his feet as the truck swerved back on the track and slammed against a boulder on the opposite side before careening farther down the narrow road. “That fool is going to get himself killed.”
Sherri rose and stood next to Neill as they both watched the truck charging over the rough ground. They stared in horror as the vehicle swerved sideways, its rear end leaping into the air before the truck rolled end over end, coming to rest against a large boulder, the only thing holding it from crashing into the water.
“Sherri! Get in!” Neill ordered, pulling his keys from his pocket and running to the driver’s side of his SUV. They drove as fast as the terrain would allow, the vehicle bucking and swaying beneath them. Neill passed his cell phone to Sherri. “Call 911,” he yelled over the roar of the engine as they skidded back up the track to where the truck rested precariously on its side.
Sherri clicked the numbers into the phone, all the while bracing her hands against the door frame as the vehicle swerved dangerously over a knoll. The call could be heard on the speakerphone inside the vehicle. “911. What’s your emergency?”
Neill identified himself and responded with the information as he reached the crash site and shut off the engine. “We’re going to make our way down to the truck.”
“If at all possible, stay on the line until you reach the vehicle.”
He pulled his medical bag from the backseat as Sherri jumped out of the passenger side, the cell phone clutched in her hand. They could see the occupant’s arm dangling from the driver’s side of the truck, and there was a patch of level ground just in front of where the truck had come to rest. Without a word, they started toward the edge, their feet slipping on the damp grass as they moved quickly over the bumpy ground, intent on reaching the vehicle. The ground dipped beneath their feet as they edged nearer. Sherri stopped suddenly, and Neill had to scramble sideways not to bump into her. “What is it?”
“I recognize the truck. It’s Charlie Crawford’s.”
“Sam’s brother? Why would he drive like that, do something so stupid?” Neill asked, going ahead of Sherri, anxious to reach the vehicle.
“Charlie’s a bad alcoholic.”
Sherri’s words reached him just as his hands gripped the driver’s door. Seeing the man slumped against the inside of the vehicle, blood streaming from his head, his eyes closed, he focused his attention on what needed to be done. “Tell the 911 operator we’ve reached the site.”
* * *
SHERRI SPOKE TO the operator as she moved carefully toward the overturned truck, the wind suddenly yanking her hair into a frenzied mass around her eyes, blocking her view. Her feet searched for an even spot on the rough ground as she forced her mind to remain focused on the situation.
Sam’s brother was behind the wheel. How could he? She’d warned him every chance she got not to drive when he was drinking. In the past few months his wife, Freda, had threatened to leave him if he didn’t stop drinking, but obviously that hadn’t changed much in Charlie’s life. Charlie had come back from Iraq a broken man, a highly decorated member of the marine corps, and he hadn’t been willing or able to accept help for his alcoholism. It was clear from what they were seeing that Charlie had followed the destructive path of his older brother.
Sherri reached Neill, her apprehension peaking as she stared into the cab of the truck. Charlie’s eyes were closed and his breathing shallow. Blood oozed from an open wound on his forehead. The arm hanging out of the window leaned at an odd angle, probably broken. The cab reeked of alcohol, and a traveler—slang for an alcoholic drink—rested in the cup holder on the console between the bucket seats, its sides gripped by the rubber tabs holding it in place. The other smells were sweat and dirt from the hundreds of trips made in a truck that the owner had never bothered to clean.
Neill eased Charlie’s arm back into the truck, causing him to cry out as he opened the door.
“How far away is the ambulance?” Sherri asked the operator, the cell phone braced against her ear as she watched Neill examine Charlie as much as he could without moving him.
“ETA is about five minutes,” the operator responded.
“I can’t move him without help in case he’s sustained a back injury,” Neill said, opening the door wider to gain better access. Sherri retrieved the stethoscope, blood pressure cuff and light for checking pupils from Neill’s
medical bag. They moved as one, assessing Charlie’s condition, taking his vital signs, relaying them to the 911 operator to be passed on to the EMTs on board the ambulance.
“Tell them we’ll need a neck brace and backboard,” Neill said, following this request with another for IV solution. He mentioned the possibility that they might have to insert a chest tube on route.
“You’re going on the ambulance with him,” Sherri said.
“Yes,” he answered, his voice distracted, his eyes on Charlie, whose color was ashen. His respirations were faster and shallower than a few minutes ago.
“Where’s that ambulance?” Sherri muttered just as the wail of a siren could be heard coming along the highway above them. “Thank heaven.” The trembling in her legs eased. Charlie couldn’t die like this, not after everything he’d lived through. He was a good man. He had a wife and two children. He’d been so kind to her when Sam had died.
Neill steadied Charlie while he checked his head wound, his fingers moving confidently. Charlie groaned at his touch. “Charlie, it’s Neill Brandon. How are you feeling?”
Charlie groaned once again and tried to turn away.
The ambulance stopped. The EMTs scrambled out of the vehicle and made their way toward the crash site with a stretcher, backboard, neck brace and the IV ordered by Neill ready for the patient. With professionalism and ease, they slid Charlie out of the truck and onto the stretcher, strapped him into place and did all the myriad duties required to stabilize him before starting back up the slope toward the waiting ambulance—all under Neill’s watchful eye.
He was so sure, so calm, so deliberate in every move he made, every word he uttered. Sherri watched in complete fascination as he transformed from the man she knew to the doctor whose expertise had been honed in one of the best medical centers in the country.
As the EMTs made their way up the slope, he came toward her, a look of relief on his face. “Guess we’ll have to finish our picnic another time.”
“I’ll follow you in,” she said, feeling the rush of adrenaline like a narcotic, her awareness of Neill heightened to the point where all she wanted was for him to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless.
The Doctor Returns Page 15