ROMANCE: Life Shocks Romances: Contemporary Romance Box Set (Life Shocks Romances Collection Book 2)

by Jade Kerrion

  Mr. Langford pressed a fist against his abdomen. “Just heartburn.” His breath came in short pants, as if he could not get enough air into his lungs. “Feeling woozy. I’ll be okay if I just sit for a bit.” He sank with relief into the chair Connor brought to him and mopped the beads of sweat off his forehead.

  Connor’s eyes narrowed. “Any discomfort in your chest?”

  Mr. Langford shook his head.

  “Any discomfort anywhere else? I saw you massage your neck and jaw just now.”

  The old man blinked, as if assessing his aches for the first time. He rolled his shoulders slowly. “Just a slight pain along my back and arms.”

  “One or both?”

  “Both.”

  “Any nausea?”

  Mr. Langford nodded. “Breakfast probably didn’t agree with me. Damn eggs.”

  “Do you have any aspirin here?”

  “Cabinet over there.” The old man indicated with a jerk of his chin.

  Connor retrieved the bottle of aspirin and handed Mr. Langford a single tablet. “Don’t swallow it whole; chew it.”

  Bewildered, the old man began chewing on the tablet as Connor tugged his smartphone out of his pocket and dialed 911. “This is Connor Bradley. Send an ambulance to Langford’s pet store right away.”

  Mr. Langford clutched Connor’s arm. His hands trembled. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m your doctor; I know your medical history. You’ve never had heartburn in your entire life.” Connor kept his voice calm. “Your symptoms…I think you may have just had a heart attack.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Noelle Langford slumped against the countertop at the nurses’ station. Her duffle bag hit the tiles with a loud thump, drawing the attention of the female nurse and male doctor engaged in deep discussion behind the station.

  The frantic phone call from her older sister earlier that day had resulted in an overpriced plane ticket from Los Angeles to the Baltimore-Washington International Airport, followed by an hour’s cab ride to the Harford Memorial Hospital. Even so, nearly ten hours had passed since the phone call—each hour piling uncertainty upon stress. Her mind fluttered with panicked “what ifs,” none of which had any answers.

  Noelle drew a deep breath, but her pulse continued to skitter without any regard for her meditative techniques. “I’d like to see Alan Langford.”

  The nurse frowned. “Visiting hours ended at ten. You can come back tomorrow at nine.”

  “Please. I’m his daughter. I just got in from LA., and I need to see him for myself. I have to make sure he’s all right.”

  The nurse’s scowl deepened, but the dark-haired doctor spoke up. “Go on. He’s in 114. I think he’s still awake.”

  “Thank you so much.” Noelle grabbed her duffle bag and continued down the hallway. The reflection of florescent lights off the polished tiled floors aggravated her headache, but she straightened her shoulders and smoothed away the hint of a frown. She tapped on the door, and a relieved sigh whispered out of her when she heard her father’s voice say, “Come in.”

  She pushed the door open. “Hi, Daddy.”

  “Noelle!” Her father sat upright in the bed. The IVs trailing along both sides of the bed made him look like a marionette with cut strings. “You came so quickly.”

  “Of course. I wish I could have been here sooner.” She crossed to the bed and snaked her arms through the IVs to hug him. He was solid, warm, and alive. Tears stung her eyes. “I was so afraid.” She choked the words out past the lump in her throat.

  He huffed as he gently stroked her hair. “Wish I’d known all along the trick of getting you back home for Christmas.”

  “Not funny, Daddy. It’s not helping.”

  “I’m just so glad to see you.” His voice caught too. “How’s your mother?”

  “She’s okay. She made me promise to call her as soon as I got an update on your status.”

  “Nursing home all right with her?”

  Noelle nodded. “She likes it there; she’s made lots of friends.”

  “I just bet.”

  Noelle heard the rasp of unhappiness in her father’s voice. The divorce her mother had instigated was eight years in the past, but apparently her father was still not entirely over it. Noelle knew better than to dwell on it. Not my circus. Not my monkeys. “So, tell me, what happened?”

  He rubbed a hand against his chest. “I didn’t feel any pain in my chest. I thought it was heartburn, and just some general aches, you know, from growing old. By the way, don’t do it.”

  “Grow old? I’ll try not to. And then what happened?”

  “Good thing Connor was in the store at that time. Smart lad noticed me rubbing my jaw and neck, asked me about the rest of my symptoms, and called the ambulance. When we got to the hospital, turns out he was right. I did have a heart attack. If I’d been alone or with someone who didn’t know the difference between a heart attack and heartburn, it probably wouldn’t have turned out well.”

  Noelle clasped her father’s gnarled hands fervently. “Thank God. So what happens now?”

  “They want to keep me here for a few days, for observation.”

  “Okay.”

  “But it’s Christmas. I don’t want to spend Christmas in a hospital room.”

  “Holly and I will bring a tree and decorate the room for you.”

  “It’s not the same thing. Can’t you talk to the hospital? See if they’ll make an exception for an old man?”

  Noelle sighed. “I’ll try, but I want to make sure you get the best care.”

  “And someone’s got to run the pet store. I have two boys minding the counter, but it’s not the same as having the owner there. Holly can’t; she’s got her own day job.”

  “I’ve got the pet store covered until you get better, Daddy, but just so you know, this offer isn’t open indefinitely,” she said sternly when she saw the twinkle in his eyes. “You can’t use it as an excuse to keep me here.”

  Her father’s gaze shifted to something behind her, and she turned around to see the doctor who had given her permission to see her father after visiting hours. The doctor smiled, a slight curve to his lips that gentled his otherwise stern expression. “How are you feeling, Mr. Langford?” His voice was a smooth baritone, ideal for calming querulous patients and anxious family members.

  “I’m ready to go home,” the old man grumbled.

  “We’d like to run a couple more tests—”

  “I could bring him back in during the day for those tests,” Noelle interceded. “Please. He just wants to be home for Christmas.”

  A muscle ticked in the doctor’s cheek as he sighed. His strong jawline was subtly dusted with a five o’clock shadow. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thanks, Connor,” her father said.

  That was Connor? Not Connor Bradley, surely. Wasn’t he the tall, skinny guy who had been in the same class with her older sister? He’d worn glasses, then, and a perpetually worried expression, as if the cares of the world rested on his shoulders. He’d been a certifiable nerd, and endured his share of mockery and bullying from the jocks who ruled the social hierarchy at Havre de Grace Senior High School. He hadn’t allowed the bullying to upset his equilibrium or wreck his grades. When he graduated as the class valedictorian and enrolled at Harvard University, he placed himself out of the reach of his teenaged tormentors.

  Sweet heavens, he had changed. His doctor’s scrubs couldn’t conceal his lean, muscular frame, and his sweet, worried expression had been schooled into professional compassion. He had apparently abandoned his glasses in favor of contact lenses or laser surgery. Probably the former, Noelle thought. The latter required more vanity than she imagined Connor possessed.

  She stepped forward and extended her hand to him. “I’m Noelle, Holly’s sister. I don’t know if you recognize me—”

  “I do.” His smile widened slightly. The corners of his tired eyes crinkled. “I wish it were under better circumstances, but welcome back t
o Havre de Grace.” He glanced at Noelle’s father. “Let me see what I can do to get you out of here.”

  Noelle waited until he left the room. “That was Connor Bradley, right?”

  “Yeah. You were in high school with him, weren’t you?”

  “He was in Holly’s class. He was a senior when I was a freshman. I didn’t realize he came back to Havre de Grace after medical school. He’s your doctor?”

  Her father nodded. “He’s much better at keeping people alive than he is at keeping goldfish alive.”

  She laughed when her father gave her the lowdown on Connor’s repeated visits to the pet store. “That’s terrible. Who knew we had a goldfish serial killer in our midst?” She pushed to her feet. “Let me talk to him and see if we can get you back home tonight.”

  Noelle found Connor on his cell phone. His back was to her, so he did not see her approach. He had propped his shoulder against the wall, his frame subtly hunched. Connor shook his head as he spoke to the person on the phone. “I’m sorry, Mom. I know the timing is terrible, but nobody plans for these things to happen. …Yes, I realize Grace is going to be upset. …I don’t know; I’ll figure something out. It’ll be fine. …Yeah, I’m sorry. Maybe next year. …No, not early next year. Jason’s wife is due in January, so I’ll be putting in double time while he’s out on paternity leave. Maybe later. March, April. We’ll sort it out. …Yeah, we’ll Skype on Christmas Day, and don’t worry about sending the gifts. Overnight postage is crazy. The kids will get them when they get them. …Hope doesn’t know. She doesn’t care. …I’ll handle Grace; she’ll be fine. …Mom, stop worrying, all right?” Frustration seeped into his voice. “I’m fine. I just…I’ll talk to you on Christmas Day.” He hung up and slid the phone back into his pocket.

  Noelle stared at the wall of his back. She swallowed hard and then cleared her throat softly.

  Connor turned around. “Noelle.”

  The weariness on his face made her chest ache for him.

  He made no reference to his phone call. “Let’s get your dad checked out, and I’ll give you both a ride back to Holly’s place.”

  “He can leave?”

  “Yeah, it’s all sorted out. I’ll let you and your sister know what danger signs to look for, and I’ll check in on him a couple of times a day.”

  “I didn’t know you made house calls.”

  “It’s Havre de Grace. We’re not big on formality here. Come on.”

  In spite of the nurse’s stern frown, Connor expedited the paperwork and checked Noelle’s father out of hospital. Noelle grabbed her duffle bag and scurried to keep up with Connor as he wheeled her father out to a waiting taxi.

  Holly met them at the door of her single-story house. “Oh my God, you’re back.” She threw her arms around her father’s neck. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she looked at Connor. “Thank you for bringing him home.”

  “You’re welcome. Can we talk for a few minutes about his care over the next couple of days?”

  “Yes, of course, come in. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Coffee, if you have it.”

  “Decaf?” Holly walked into the kitchen.

  “No. Caffeine. I need it to get home.” Connor reached over his shoulder to massage the back of his neck.

  They settled down at the dining room table. Noelle took notes as Connor talked about symptoms to look out for, but she also watched him—the way he dragged his hand over his eyes, as if trying to tug away sleep, and the way he looked out into the distance, his glazed expression betraying an effort to collect his thoughts in the face of deep exhaustion.

  “Is everything clear?” he asked finally.

  Noelle stared down at her notes. “Yes, it is.”

  “I’ll come by twice a day—probably around eight in the morning and six in the evening—to check on your dad. You have my number; don’t hesitate to call for any reason. My clinic’s not far away, and my house is just around the corner.”

  Her father frowned. “Will Jason be coming by when you’re in Orlando?”

  Connor shook his head. “Change of plans; we’re not going to Orlando anymore.”

  “But—”

  Connor held up his hand. “It’s fine. I’ll be here. We’ll both sleep better at night this way.” A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and he pushed to his feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  Holly walked Connor to the door, and Noelle glanced at her father as he leaned back in his chair. The older man nodded and said quietly, “Now, that’s a good man.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Noelle’s first full day back in Havre de Grace was spent ushering an endless stream of neighbors into the living room where her father rested on an overstuffed chaise lounge. By the end of the day, she had grown tired of telling visitors what she did in Los Angeles—“freelance creative design”—and promising to convey their best wishes to her mother. Everyone chastised her on staying away for so long. She apologized but made it a point not to promise to return more frequently.

  The sun was setting when she saw the last visitor, Mrs. Metcalf, to the door. The rotund woman trotted down the path, relieved of the massive strawberry shortcake she had brought for the Langfords.

  Noelle sighed with relief, but her smile did not slip. She had forgotten the inherent kindness that formed the undercurrent of small communities. The refrigerator swelled with prepared meals, and the kitchen counter was invisible beneath trays of lasagna and containers of chicken soup. She returned to her father’s side. “Can I fix a plate for you?”

  “Not just yet.” He leaned his head back. His voice drooped. “Come sit with me. Tell me about how you’re really doing.”

  The doorbell rang.

  Noelle rolled her eyes as she marched to the door. She flung the door open. Her irritation dropped away in a flash. “Dr. Bradley.”

  “Connor. When I hear Dr. Bradley, I look over my shoulder for my dad.” His smile dug a dimple into his cheek. “May I come in?”

  “Of course.”

  As he shrugged off his leather jacket, she caught the oddest whiff of scents—aftershave and antiseptics—but it suited him.

  “How’s your father doing?” he asked.

  She jerked her head in the direction of the living room. “Take a look for yourself.” She was about to close the door when her sister walked up the path. Noelle leaned against the door to keep it open, surprised by the happy thrill of seeing the ones she loved doing something as mundane as returning from work. I’ve been too long away from home.

  Holly smiled as she stepped into the house. “How was your first day back?”

  “I think the entire town stopped by to say hi. I amazed myself by the number of names I did remember.” Noelle grinned.

  Holly tilted her head at the low murmur of voices in the living room. “Is that Connor with Dad?”

  Noelle nodded.

  “How did he do today?”

  “He did just fine. I bet the visits wore him out more than anything else.”

  Holly walked into the kitchen and shrugged the tote bag off her shoulders. She surveyed the spread of food. “I see we won’t have to cook for about a month. Did Mrs. Cutter bring brownies?”

  Noelle chuckled. “You bet she did. She brought French Vanilla ice cream too. Good thing no one in this household is actually diabetic.” She glanced up at the sound of the front door closing.

  “Oh, shoot.” Holly scurried to the door but Connor had already left.

  “What’s the problem?” Noelle asked as her sister returned to the kitchen with a hint of a frown on her face.

  “I wanted to send some of this food with him.”

  “Lots of lasagna and chicken soup to go around. Just make sure you keep the desserts here.”

  Holly laughed. “I bet little Grace would like some desserts. I don’t suppose Connor would think of things like that.”

  “Like what? Dessert for his kids? His wife—what’s her name—probably has it covered.”

/>   Holly’s eyes widened.

  “What?” Noelle spread her hands. “What did I say?”

  “Millie, his wife, passed away a year ago on Christmas Eve.”

  Noelle’s jaw dropped. “What?”

  “There was a complication at childbirth. They saved the baby, but she died.”

  “Women in America actually die in childbirth?”

  Holly glared at Noelle. “Rarely, but yes, they do. He called the baby Hope.” Her smile quivered. “She’s a beautiful little child, just like her mother.”

  “So who’s Grace?”

  “His elder daughter. She’s in my first grade class. She’s…had a rough year.”

  “She’s a holy terror,” Noelle translated.

  “She wasn’t always like that.” Holly shook her head. “She’s transitioned from sad to withdrawn to angry.”

  “So what’s the next step in her recovery plan?”

  “I don’t know,” Holly said. “Prozac?”

  “That bad?”

  “I don’t know how Connor deals with it.”

  “Not well, obviously, or you wouldn’t be calling for Prozac.” Noelle searched the pantry for a food cooler. “Why don’t you chill and hang out with Daddy? I’ll bring some food to Connor’s house. Did he take over his parents’ house? The blue two-story just around the corner?”

  “It’s white with dark green trim now, but yeah, the same house.”

  Noelle repacked lasagna, green bean casserole, mashed potatoes, and chicken soup into smaller portions. She also included brownies and strawberry shortcake in the cooler before walking out the door. The night was frigid to a thin-blooded Californian girl such as she now was, but the walk took her past houses bedecked in Christmas lights and lawns covered with decorations. Glowing reindeer frolicked next to the pavement. Massive candy canes loomed over both sides of the cobblestone pathway leading up to the neighbor’s house. On the lawn across the street, elves and gingerbread men engaged in a snowball fight.

  The doctor’s house, however, was lit only by a light over the entryway.