Saving Dr. Tremaine

by Jessica Matthews

  His face held a combination of affront and disgruntlement. “I wouldn’t have said so if I didn’t.”

  If he was man enough to offer an olive branch, she wasn’t going to hit him over the head with it. “Apology accepted.” Then, because she couldn’t resist it, she added, “And I’ll practice with my doors closed.”

  His mouth turned into a now-familiar half-smile. “That might be best for awhile. I’m curious, though. Why the bagpipes?”

  She smiled. “With a name like McCall, how could I choose anything else?”

  “Then this is a back-to-your-roots kind of thing?”

  “In a way. My grandfather played the pipes, as did his father before him. I thought it was time I followed in the tradition, although I don’t expect to be as good as they were.”

  “Didn’t your father follow in the family footsteps?”

  “Yes, but he died when I was little. Now it’s up to me.”

  Mic stuck his head in the doorway. “Yo, Annie. Time to saddle up. Dispatch is getting antsy. They’ve called twice in the last ten minutes to ask how soon we’d be available.”

  She rose as she gathered up her papers. “I’m coming.”

  “Sounds as if your ‘no rest’ comment applies to you, too,” Jared remarked.

  “It appears that way, doesn’t it?” As she walked out the door, she hoped for a free hour. A mere sixty minutes. She’d phoned the power company promptly at nine and was waiting for someone to call her back with an explanation and a promise to correct their mistake, but until a few minutes ago she hadn’t cared if the power company righted the wrong today or not. As far as she’d been concerned, Jared’s rudeness deserved an extra day’s wait.

  Now that he’d actually been personable and apologized, she wanted his electricity restored as quickly as he did.

  Maybe this would break the string of bad luck that followed them like a black cloud. She didn’t appreciate being thought of as the scatterbrained lady next door, even if she seemed to be a walking disaster area when he was nearby.

  Why do you care what he thinks?

  She frowned as she tried to answer her own question. It wasn’t as if she expected to be more than a neighbor. Jared might have attracted her notice and piqued her interest, but the man of her dreams would be someone who was willing to give her a house full of lively kids, possessed the patience of a saint, and wrapped them all in unshakable love and an emotional security that went beyond any bank balance.

  This rare moment of congeniality didn’t change Jared’s basic character, no matter how tempting she found him. He was far too strait-laced and controlled for her to think that a relationship with him wouldn’t turn into a rerun of her and Brandon’s relationship. She would do well to remember that.

  At five o’clock, Jared came out of an exam room and ran into Erica, who was glancing at her watch and tapping her heeled foot.

  “I got your message, Jared,” she said as soon as she saw him. “What did you need?”

  “I have to cancel our date tonight,” he said. “Galen called in with some sort of intestinal bug, so I’m covering.”

  “Why you?” she demanded. “Didn’t you fill in for him last time?”

  “He’s sick, Erica. What do you want me to do?”

  Her lipsticked mouth turned into a pretty pout. After working all day, she still didn’t have a blond hair out of place or a wrinkle in her navy blue suit but, then, sitting behind a desk and pushing paper wasn’t as strenuous as Annie’s job.

  Thirty minutes ago, she’d brought in a ninety-seven-year-old fellow who’d fallen while taking his afternoon constitutional through the garden in the nursing-home grounds. Her dark blue trousers had shown streaks of dirt and grass stains on her knees, her blue shirt had lost its crispness, and a few tendrils of hair had escaped her braid. As busy as she’d been, he didn’t expect her to look as pristine as she had earlier in the day.

  “I’d planned on going to a movie,” Erica reminded him.

  “We’ll see it tomorrow.”

  She shook her head. “I’m getting ready for my friends’ visit. Hilary and Rosemary are coming on Saturday, remember?”

  “We can always wait until next week,” he began.

  She hesitated. “I suppose I can rearrange my schedule for you. Have you heard any more about your electricity?”

  “No.” He’d seen Annie three times since this morning’s code blue. She’d transported a woman who’d fainted in the grocery store and given herself a goose egg on a shopping cart, a man in congestive heart failure, and, finally, the old man with a broken hip. On each of those occasions, he’d wanted to ask how she was faring with the power company, but Annie and her partner had left as quickly as they’d arrived.

  “Why you’re letting her sort this out is a mystery to me,” Erica said darkly. “She won’t get anywhere. From what you’ve told me about her, I doubt if she’s given your problem a second thought.”

  Jared might grouse about his neighbor, but it bothered him to hear Erica, who’d never met Annie, malign her character.

  “She’ll take care of it,” he said firmly, pushing aside his own doubts on the issue.

  “I hope so. For the record, I think you should move. Robin Estates is a nice complex, but you deserve a place that caters to the professional crowd.”

  “Like yours?”

  “Exactly. Networking is the key to advancement,” she said.

  “That may be, but I like where I live.”

  She shrugged. “Suit yourself. But if you ask me, you should have called the power company yourself. Nothing will get done otherwise.”

  “We’ll see,” he said. If Annie could handle a code blue singlehandedly, she could manage a simple phone call. Even if he had wanted to handle things himself—and a part of him ached to jump in—it wasn’t his place. If his own family had rejected him for being the problem-solver, a relative stranger wouldn’t appreciate his efforts either. Annie McCall had caused this whole fiasco and it was her responsibility to fix it.

  “What’s the rush, Annie?” Mic asked her on Friday morning. “I’ve never seen you watch the clock like you have for the last hour.”

  Annie shrugged. She’d been antsy ever since she’d woken up at five a.m. Her biggest fear was that they’d receive a late call and be unable leave on time.

  “With so much laundry waiting for me, I can’t wait to get home,” she said instead.

  A knowing glint appeared in Mic’s eyes. “You mean, you can’t wait to get there before your neighbor does.”

  “Exactly.”

  “You should have told him last night as soon as you realized he was working a double shift,” Mic advised. “He would have taken the news about his power much better than he will now.”

  “When was I supposed to do that?” she asked. “We couldn’t move fast enough last night. How many calls came in back to back, without any time in between?”

  “Last time I checked, the phones worked.”

  Breaking the news over the phone seemed cowardly and she was afraid that if she didn’t deliver her news in person, he’d never truly see how sorry she was.

  “Maybe he’ll surprise me and take my announcement in his stride.”

  “Don’t hold your breath. The man probably hasn’t slept much, if at all, and he’s expecting to come home, take a hot shower, watch a little TV while he drinks his coffee, then fall into bed. Believe me, he won’t be in a mood to hear that he can’t do those things.”

  “What should I do to soften the blow?”

  “I don’t know, but you’d better think of something big enough to offset his inconvenience.”

  Something big, she thought as she hurried home. The only thing she could think of would be to offer an expense-paid hotel room, but she couldn’t afford it.

  Which meant she could only suggest one alternative.

  Jared’s parking spot was empty so, taking it as a good omen, she rushed inside, left her apartment door ajar, and rummaged through her kitchen’
s junk drawer until she heard his familiar tread on the staircase.

  The item she’d been searching for suddenly gleamed under a pile of garbage bag twist ties and she snatched it up. Taking a deep breath, she caught Jared just as he inserted his key into the lock. “Hi,” she said cheerfully.

  “Hi.” Morning stubble covered his face and he looked tired.

  “How was your night?” she asked.

  “Short.” His clipped comment spoke volumes. The kind fellow who’d spoken to her after Turlow’s death had skipped town and left his alter ego behind. Working in ER could easily wring a person emotionally dry, which probably accounted for his surly attitude whenever she saw him at home. Unfortunately, his mood wouldn’t improve in the next few minutes.

  He turned the knob and she hurried to stop him. “Um, there’s something you should know.”

  He pushed open his door before he faced her, one eyebrow raised. “Can’t it wait?”

  “It could, but it won’t,” she muttered.

  His dark eyes narrowed and he reached for his living-room light switch. After flipping it once, then twice, he turned to her. “I don’t have electricity.”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

  “And why don’t I have power?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I presume they’ll turn it on today?”

  She winced. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe?” He raised his voice. “Just maybe?”

  “Maybe,” she repeated, “but probably not.”

  “I see.” His shoulders slumped as he rubbed his forehead and clearly fought for control. “When?”

  Annie had told herself that his bark was worse than his bite, but right now she wasn’t convinced. Even so, it was best to lay all the bad news out in the open.

  “Monday.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  “MONDAY?” The headache behind Jared’s eyes began to build. “Monday?”

  “It’s only two days away,” Annie hastened to explain.

  “Three,” he corrected. “Today isn’t over yet.”

  “OK, three. But, honestly, the time will fly by.”

  “Time flies when you’re having fun,” he reminded her. “Roughing it in my own apartment doesn’t qualify.”

  “Look at the bright side. You still have running water.”

  “Cold running water.”

  “I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of it. This isn’t the end of the world.”

  “No, but it’s damn inconvenient.”

  “It won’t be that bad,” she insisted.

  He looked at her through gritty eyes. “And why not?”

  “Because…because my place is yours for the duration.” She held out a key. “The shower, the television, the kitchen, whatever. What’s mine is yours.”

  “You’d invite a total stranger into your home for the weekend?” he exploded. If one of his sisters had made a similar offer to a nodding acquaintance, her ears would still be ringing from his verbal blistering on the dangers involved.

  “You’re not a total stranger,” she said mildly.

  “You hardly know me,” he continued. “I might have just gotten out of prison.”

  One corner of her mouth curled with disgust. “Give me a little credit. I may not be a perfect judge of character, but I’m fairly confident you’re a solid citizen.”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “All right, I’ll play along if it will make you feel better. Did you go to prison?”

  “No!”

  She grinned. “Then what’s the problem?”

  He mentally added “too trusting” to his list of her character flaws.

  “You’re a doctor and I’ve seen you in action,” she added. “That’s good enough for me. Anyway, it isn’t like you’re moving in or we’re sleeping together.”

  For a few seconds, he imagined the scenario she’d described. For all of her perceived faults, Annie was an attractive woman who exuded vitality and energy. It didn’t take much effort to envision her long hair trailing across the mattress in wild abandon as they set the sheets ablaze.

  To his surprise, he wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed that, for all intents and purposes, he’d still be across the hall.

  “The beauty of my plan is that even though you’ll pop into my place throughout the day, you’ll be at home.”

  He eyed the key grimly. “And where will you be?”

  “I’m off today, work Saturday, and am off Sunday, so I’ll be in and out.” Her eyes narrowed. “What about you?”

  “I’m on duty. My four-day weekend will start on Thursday.” He supposed he should be grateful that fate had allowed this fiasco to happen during a time when he’d be spending most of his time at the hospital, but in his present mood he wasn’t inclined to look at the bright side.

  “I see. Anyway,” she continued, “I’m sure we can manage to share a kitchen and a bathroom during the time you’re at home. I’ll admit this isn’t an ideal arrangement for you, but it’s only for a few days and you’ll have my place all to yourself tomorrow night. Feel free to make other plans, though.”

  He would if he could, but his options were limited. Galen didn’t have room in his one-bedroom apartment and Erica was planning a weekend with some college friends. Even if she were available, he wouldn’t ask for her help because he would never hear the end of her I-told-you-sos.

  Maybe he should have taken care of his electrical problems himself, but he hadn’t. Now he had to suffer the consequences of his own decision.

  “This is crazy,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.

  “I’d offer to put you up in a hotel room, but my bank account is on the slim side. If you have another suggestion, though, I’m ready to listen.” Annie lifted an expectant eyebrow.

  “I don’t have any ideas either.” Cost was no object. He could easily pay for several nights, but he hated hotel mattresses and pillows with a passion. He wanted to sleep in his own bed, between his own sheets.

  “Then we’ll have to make the best of it. Feel free to borrow my travel alarm clock,” she added. “And don’t worry about meals. You’re my guest.”

  Cooking was the least of his worries. The most he did in the kitchen was microwave a frozen dinner or bake a pizza. Speaking of which, the contents of his refrigerator and freezer were probably ruined and he’d just laid in a week’s supply.

  One more thing he could lay at her door.

  “That’s good, because everything I have is spoiled.”

  Her face blanched. “I wish I’d thought of that sooner. We could have salvaged as much as possible yesterday.”

  “But we didn’t.” Then, because it seemed churlish to let her think the worst and feel guilty, he said, “Don’t panic. It’s only a gallon of milk and a few frozen dinners. Not a side of beef.”

  Relief shone in her eyes. “I promise to replace each and every one.”

  He didn’t intend to hold her to her offer, but he was too tired to argue.

  “Fine,” he said, accepting the key before he changed his mind. “I trust you won’t mind if I hit the shower first?”

  “Not at all.”

  He started across the threshold before he realized that she hadn’t moved. “I’m coming right over so, if you have anything hanging up that you don’t want me to see, now would be a good time to move your unmentionables.”

  She shrugged. “There isn’t anything to move. I thought I’d help bring over your things, though.”

  “If I can’t carry my socks and underwear, I’ll let you know.”

  Her cheeks turned a becoming shade of pink. “I meant your coffeemaker, your toaster, or whatever else you might want to use this weekend.”

  “You don’t have a toaster?” The idea was inconceivable.

  “I do, but it doesn’t work very well.”

  “The coffeepot will be enough for now.” He led her into his apartment, pull
ed a package of filters and a can of grounds from a nearly empty cupboard and handed them to her. “I like it strong.”

  “How strong?”

  “Three scoops of coffee. Six cups of water.”

  She grimaced. “I thought you wanted coffee, not sludge.”

  “That’s the way I like it.”

  At his frown, she dutifully repeated, “Three and six. I won’t forget. For the record, you really should cut down on your caffeine. It isn’t good for you.”

  “Thanks for the medical tip, Dr McCall.” His eyes narrowed as another, unwelcome thought burst into bloom. “You’re not one of those health-food nuts, are you?”

  She laughed. It was a hearty sound, not one of those forced, flirtatious chuckles he heard quite often.

  “Sorry,” she said. “No tofu burgers and alfalfa sprouts for either of us. The healthiest things in my cupboards are oatmeal and granola bars. If it makes you feel better, the guys at the fire station are more the meat-and-potatoes type, so I should be able to keep you from starving to death until you can fend for yourself.”

  “Fair enough. See you in a few minutes.”

  After opening every window and the balcony door to let the breeze circulate the stale air, he retrieved a change of clothes, then followed his nose to Annie’s apartment. His irritation faded marginally as he inhaled the soothing aroma of his one extravagance—a special Colombian blend.

  “Would you like a cup now or later?” she asked.

  “Later.”

  Her bathroom was arranged like his, but her decor had a more feminine flair. Someone—Annie?—had stenciled seashells on the white walls in a variety of pale colors. A Boston fern hung from a hook over the bathtub and another pot of ivy rested next to the sink. She’d laid out a set of plush towels which were obviously for guest use since the towels hanging over the rails were threadbare. A few bottles of bubble bath lined a shelf that also contained a bowl of orange-scented potpourri.

  The room was like her, bright and sunny and full of life.

  She might not have accomplished what she’d set out to do with the power company, but he couldn’t fault her methods for making amends. He certainly could have landed in a far less pleasant environment.