Saving Dr. Tremaine

by Jessica Matthews

  “You did it for the wrong reasons,” she said flatly.

  “The wrong reasons?” He sounded incredulous. “Since when is being thoughtful of someone who’s physically at the end of her rope considered wrong?”

  “I know my own limitations and I don’t need anyone saving me from anything. Neither do I need some guy presuming or dictating what he thinks is best.”

  Annie’s comment hung in the air until he finally held up his hands in surrender. “I stand corrected. I solemnly promise never to be considerate to you again.”

  “Perfect. We understand each other.”

  The silence grew heavy once again and his poleaxed expression clearly indicated that he thought she’d lost her mind. Now that she took time to replay the last few minutes, she did sound unreasonable. Her convoluted logic had somehow triggered her fear of falling into the same trap she’d escaped from and had caused her to paint Jared with Brandon’s brush.

  She’d overshot her jump to a conclusion by a country mile.

  “It appears I owe you an apology,” she said stiffly. “You’re right. I’m tired and not thinking clearly.”

  “Accepted,” he said, still appearing wary. “And now we’re even.”

  She managed a smile, wishing the floor would swallow her and save her from embarrassment, but it was too late. “I guess so.”

  “Who was he?”

  “Who?”

  “The guy who tried to run your life.”

  “My ex-fiancé.”

  “Were you engaged for long?”

  “Long enough for the bloom on the rose to fade,” she said wryly. “Long enough for him to start criticizing everything, from my clothes to my profession. No matter what idea I had, his was better. When I realized that he’d always treat me like a little kid who couldn’t think or manage for herself, and never as a partner, I walked away.

  “I can’t complain too loudly, though, because he’s the reason I’m here. A community called Hope seemed the perfect place to start over.”

  “It is at that,” he agreed, seconds before the telephone rang in her apartment.

  “Excuse me.” She hurriedly inserted her key, then rushed inside to answer.

  “I’m so glad you’re home.” Thelma Fields’s relief was obvious. “Cecil hurt himself with the lawn mower. He cut off his fingers and I don’t know what to do.”

  Hell’s bells! What else would this day bring? “Did you call 911?”

  “Yes. We wrapped his hand in a towel, but there’s so much blood. He’s going to bleed to death!” Her voice ended on a high note.

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Annie dumped the receiver on its cradle, surprised to find Jared framed in her doorway.

  “Another emergency?” he asked, as she ran toward the closet.

  “Mr Fields, the maintenance man, cut off several of his fingers when he was working on his lawn mower.”

  “Did they call an ambulance?”

  “Yes.” She tried to move past him. “See you later.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  She paused to stare at him with wide eyes. “Why?”

  “Because in this case two pairs of hands are better than one,” he said crossly. “Let’s go.”

  They sprinted across the complex in record time. A lawn mower, still idling, rested in the grass outside the open door to the Fields’s apartment.

  Annie burst inside, with Jared on her heels, and found the middle-aged man seated at the kitchen table with his left hand wrapped in a bloody towel. His wife hovered nearby.

  “It’s terrible. Just terrible.” Thelma’s voice shook. “He lost two fingers and one is…just hanging on.”

  Annie winced in sympathy. The sight of blood didn’t bother her, she’d learned to steel herself to the sight of gruesome wounds.

  “Then it’s a good thing I brought Dr Tremaine with me,” she announced, noticing Cecil’s pale face as she took his pulse. There was little point in looking at his injury because they couldn’t do anything about it. Preventing shock and minimizing blood loss were top priorities. “How’re you doing?”

  “I’m a little shaky,” Cecil admitted. “I can’t believe this happened. A freak accident, I guess. The machine was choking on a big weed, so I reached down to pull it free. The next thing I knew, my hand was under the mower.”

  “If you’d bought one of those new machines with the safety bar that stops the engine when you release it, this would never have happened,” Thelma chided. “But, no, you wanted to get another year’s use out of this one. And now look at you.”

  Cecil grimaced. “Can you save the lecture for later? I’m in enough pain as it is without you chewing off my ear, too.”

  “As soon as the paramedics arrive, they’ll do something about that,” Jared said. “Can you tell me how much of the fingers are missing?”

  “Second…knuckle.”

  “OK.” Jared positioned the man’s arm against his body so that his affected hand was above heart level. He turned to Annie, but she’d read his mind. If the severed digits were found quickly and weren’t mangled beyond repair, surgeons might be able to reattach them.

  “I’m on my way. Thelma?” she asked, pulling a pair of disposable gloves out of her kit and a package of gauze pads. “I’ll need two plastic bags. One with ice and one without.”

  While Thelma filled one bag with crushed ice from her ice-maker, Annie returned to the scene of the accident. She shut off the mower just as Martin and Rena arrived.

  “You’re supposed to give us time for coffee between calls,” Martin teased her.

  “What are you complaining for?” she said good-naturedly. “I’m technically off duty and should be checking out the inside of my eyelids.”

  “Where’s the patient?” Rena asked.

  “In his apartment.” She pointed to the open door. “Jared is with him. I’m looking for his missing fingers, so watch your step.”

  Rena helped search the grass while Martin went into the Fields’s apartment. “How many are we looking for?” Rena asked, as they gradually widened their circle.

  “Two. And here’s one of them.” Annie picked up the severed digit, rinsed off the grass with the sterile saline Rena had provided, and tried not to think of how it had come to be in its present location instead of being where it belonged on Cecil’s hand. Then she wrapped it in dry gauze, soaked it again with sterile saline, and placed it inside her plastic bag.

  “Bingo,” Rena said a minute later. She, too, repeated the process until both fingers were safely stored. Inside the Fields’s kitchen, Annie placed her bag inside the one containing the ice.

  “We’re ready to go,” Martin announced.

  Annie lent her assistance as they wheeled Cecil to the ambulance. Although Cecil was technically in Martin’s and Rena’s hands, she couldn’t help but watch him as if he were her patient. His IV fluid was dripping at the proper rate and his respirations seemed normal.

  “I’ll meet you at the hospital, dear.” Thelma bent down to kiss Cecil’s cheek before they slid him into the back and drove away.

  “Thanks for coming, Annie,” Thelma said as she pumped Annie’s hand. “You don’t know how much we appreciate you being here.”

  Annie smiled. “Let us know how he’s doing.”

  “I will,” Thelma promised. “And thanks again. To both of you.” She dashed away, car keys in hand.

  “I’m glad that’s over,” Annie said.

  “I didn’t realize I’d have to work so hard on my day off.”

  “You still have the afternoon. And remember, no good deed goes unrewarded.”

  He grinned. “Does that mean my electricity will magically come on?”

  She laughed. “That magic is scheduled for Monday.”

  Suddenly he stopped. “Hold on.”

  Annie paused in her tracks, surprised when he reached up to pull a few blades of grass out of her hair. His touch was gentle, almost like a caress, and she found herself holding her breath
.

  “How did you manage that?” he asked, as he dropped the pieces onto the ground and resumed walking.

  Annie forced air back into her lungs. “I must have stirred things up when we were looking for Cecil’s fingers. Do you think they can save them?”

  “If not, it won’t be because of your efforts,” he said. “That was good, quick thinking on your part.”

  “Thanks.” His compliment hadn’t been elaborate or effusive, but it had been enough to create a warm glow. Could she have misjudged him or were her surly neighbor’s walls starting to crack? If so, it might not be long before he turned into a man she couldn’t resist.

  Jared listened to Erica with half an ear as she detailed her plans for the weekend over their after-dinner coffee. He couldn’t help but compare Erica’s no-hair-out-of-place appearance with his last view of Annie sprawled indelicately across her bed, her hair streaming across the pillow.

  He’d slipped into her apartment around five o’clock to use his electric razor. The scent of vanilla and the cake on the stove had suggested she’d been awake, but he’d found her fast asleep. Falling into old but not forgotten habits of tiptoeing around after coming home from the hospital at strange hours so he wouldn’t disturb his sisters and brother, he’d quietly spruced himself for his date.

  Now, after listening to Erica drone on, he wished he’d cancelled. He hadn’t realized until now that Erica’s favorite topic of conversation was herself—her plans, her career.

  Because he’d come to Hope with the intention of pursuing his own dreams and focusing completely on his career instead of his siblings, he’d thought he had a lot in common with Erica. Now he was beginning to see certain aspects in her character that he didn’t like. Although he shouldn’t compare the two women, after spending his morning with Annie, he knew beyond all doubt that they were total opposites. Unlike Erica, Annie focused on other people and not herself.

  “Jared?”

  He shook off his private thoughts. “Yeah?”

  “I asked if your neighbor—what’s her name?—resolved your electricity problem,” Erica said impatiently, tapping one long red fingernail on her wineglass.

  “Yes and no. They’ll restore my power on Monday. And her name’s Annie.”

  “Whatever.” She brushed aside his reference. “If you have to wait until Monday, what are you doing in the meantime?”

  “She gave me access to her apartment, so I only have to run across the hallway for whatever I need, electrical-wise.”

  Erica drew her perfect eyebrows into a straight line. “Isn’t that inconvenient?”

  “It’s not as bad as it sounds. I’ll be at the hospital most of the time.”

  “Really, Jared. You should consider moving to a different complex where the people aren’t so irresponsible. The Heritage Arms actually screens their tenants and has elevators that work more often than once a month.”

  He frowned at her use of the word “irresponsible.” Her reference to Annie was plain and while he’d once thought of her in those terms, he’d rapidly revised his opinion after seeing her in action. He regretted having mentioned Annie to Erica at all.

  Idly, he wondered what Erica would say if he outlined his morning. No doubt she’d remind him of malpractice issues and caution him about becoming too involved.

  “I’m happy where I’m living. And not having an elevator isn’t the end of the world. Taking the stairs is good exercise.”

  “That may be but, remember, image is everything.”

  “So I’ve heard,” he said dryly. Erica was clearly more concerned about hers than Annie was. Yet Annie’s generosity with her time and talent left a far more shining impression on the people she encountered.

  He wondered what Annie was doing. Was she still sleeping or dispensing more medical advice to her neighbors?

  Had she grilled the chicken and set the balcony on fire?

  The desire to go home rose inside him. If he didn’t follow his instincts, no matter what he and Erica did, he wouldn’t enjoy it.

  “I know we’d talked about a movie, but would you mind if I gave you a rain check?” he asked. “It’s been a long day.”

  “Oh.” Erica appeared startled, as if no one had ever dared to cut short an evening with her. “I rearranged my calendar for us to be together, Jared.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry, but didn’t you say a few minutes ago that you had a few unfinished details to take care of before your friends arrived?”

  “That is true,” she admitted. “And I need to visit my friend Elizabeth. Her father died yesterday. He was the code blue you had in the ER.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Erica shrugged. “As for rescheduling, we’re both going to be very busy. I have budget reports due. You leave with Dr Whittaker on Friday, and I fly to San Diego for the hospital administrators’ convention the following Tuesday. Why don’t I call you when I have some free time?”

  “Sure,” he readily agreed. He should have been irritated to know that her work came before him, but it was a telling fact that he wasn’t. In fact, he was glad that she didn’t appear any more interested in a romantic entanglement than he did, which was an odd attitude for a man who’d once thought their similar goals made them a perfect match.

  After tossing a few bills on the table to cover the cost, he escorted Erica home. He felt guilty for cutting the evening short, but it didn’t seem appropriate to be with her when another woman occupied his thoughts. What would come from his interest in Annie remained to be seen, but all he knew was that he wanted to see her smile, hear her laugh, and enjoy her company.

  Back at his building, he noticed the “out of order” sign was missing, so he rode the elevator to the third floor.

  He listened for activity and, not hearing any, softly knocked. Annie’s car was in her parking space, so he knew she was at home. When she didn’t respond, he dug her key out of his pocket and let himself inside.

  “Annie?” he called softly. He listened for the slightest noise and heard water running. Realizing she was outside, he strode onto her balcony to say hello and saw her lying fast asleep on her lawn chair. Water flowed out of her large pot of flowers in a steady stream to pool onto the concrete before it spilled off the edge of the balcony.

  Shaking his head with some degree of exasperation, he twisted the outside faucet knob until the water stopped. It was a good thing he’d followed his intuition and come home before she created a lake in the apartment below.

  In many ways Annie wasn’t irresponsible but, whether she liked it or not, whether she wanted it or not, she definitely needed someone to watch over her.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  A SERIES of squeaks drew Annie out of her sound sleep. She sat up to find Jared twisting the faucet handle and her potted petunias near drowning.

  “It’s good to know that you’re an equal opportunity disaster,” he joked. “First fire, now water. What’ll be next?”

  Her yawn turned into a smile. “What else is there?”

  “I’m not sure, but you’ll eventually think of something.” He motioned to the water on the concrete. “Were you trying to create your own swimming pool?”

  “I came out to water my plants and relax, but I obviously relaxed too much because I dozed off.” She’d sat down to enjoy the warm sun and apparently the soothing sounds had lulled her back to sleep.

  “I saw the cake. Didn’t you go to bed at all?”

  For a man who usually only spoke brief sentences to her, he seemed terribly concerned about that particular piece of her furniture.

  “I did around four,” she said. “I tried to go earlier, but I’d reached the point where I couldn’t sleep even though I wanted to.”

  “Too keyed up,” he said knowingly. “Been there, done that, but I learned during my training to grab some shut-eye whenever I could.”

  “When I’m on duty, it’s not a problem,” she admitted. “I can practically sleep standing up. Being at home is entirely different. You’d t
hink that knowing I won’t be interrupted would help me relax, but for some strange reason it does the opposite.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “It’s like it’s too good to be true.”

  “Exactly.” She paused. “Have you noticed that nearly every conversation we’ve had in the last twenty-four hours has revolved around sleeping?”

  He began to protest, but a sheepish light appeared in his eyes and he didn’t. “It’s an appropriate topic for two people who don’t seem to get enough of that particular commodity.”

  “And here I thought you’d snoozed the afternoon away.”

  “I did, but from the dark patches under your eyes, you didn’t.”

  “How kind of you to notice,” she said lightly. Her lack of sleep was indirectly his fault. When she’d finally crawled between her sheets and closed her eyes, she hadn’t been able to banish the picture of Jared lying in a similar place, across the hall.

  Her vivid imagination had made resting impossible, which was why she’d baked a cake, thrown a hearty chicken casserole together and assembled her grandmother’s mixed fruit salad. She’d finally exhausted herself about four and had managed to nod off until her phone had rung. Sharon had reported that Monica was doing well, but would stay in the hospital overnight for observation. No word yet on Cecil, and she made a mental note to call Thelma.

  “How was your dinner?” she asked, unsettled by his close scrutiny. “I didn’t expect you home until later.” Geez. The moment she’d said it, she wished to call back her comment. It sounded as if she was checking on him.

  “The food was great, but I wasn’t in the mood for a movie. We called it a night.”

  Annie suspected that Erica Brown probably hadn’t been too pleased. She knew she wouldn’t have been if Jared had cut short a date with her.

  A date with Jared?

  What was she thinking?

  “From the looks of things,” he added as he pointedly glanced around the balcony, “I’m glad I did.”

  “It’s not that bad,” she defended herself.

  “I don’t know, Annie.” He sounded doubtful as he rose to peer over the edge. “Not only did you just double the complex’s water bill for the month, but you’ve ruined some guy’s lumber and electric saw.”