Saving Dr. Tremaine

by Jessica Matthews

  She scrambled to her feet to see for herself. Water ran steadily onto Jack Carter’s small workbench where a stack of small boards and power tools rested. Her spirits sank like a lead weight. She was honor-bound to compensate for his loss, even if she had to rob the last bit from the nest egg she’d received from her grandfather.

  Moving to Hope had taken the lion’s share and her high rent made it impossible to replenish the fund with her salary, but living in a gated, secure housing community was worth the cost when she considered how much time she spent away from home.

  “I don’t suppose he’d buy the story of a freak rainstorm,” she said hopefully.

  Jared chuckled. “I doubt it.”

  Mary, St Michael and St Bride! “How in the world…? I couldn’t have been sleeping for more than a few minutes,” she protested.

  He raised an eyebrow. “A few minutes?”

  “I came out here around six and it’s…” She glanced at her watch and shrieked. “Nearly eight?”

  He grinned. “That’s more than a few minutes.”

  The humor in his voice surprised her. He was taking this incident far too calmly for a man who didn’t suffer fools gladly, but, then again, he didn’t have a reason to be upset. His apartment hadn’t suffered any damage. Yet his self-satisfied smirk raised her suspicions.

  “You expected to find a disaster, didn’t you?” she accused, as she stared at him.

  “The thought crossed my mind, but I’d really imagined flames and the fire department instead of water and swim fins.”

  “You must think I’m a total idiot,” she said ruefully, wondering why she couldn’t act as calmly and professionally around him as she did on the job. Not that she wanted to impress him, she hastened to tell herself, but she’d like him to think she wasn’t completely undisciplined.

  “Tired,” he corrected. “Not an idiot. Did you eat at all today?”

  It took her a minute to follow the conversation’s shift. “I nibbled around lunchtime.”

  “What about dinner?”

  She shrugged. “I wasn’t hungry.”

  “Then why the cake?”

  “My sweet tooth was bothering me and I thought you might like a snack this weekend.”

  “You have a sweet tooth?”

  “A well-developed one. Fortunately, when I bake something, I take most of it to the station. That way I spread the calories around instead of keeping them all to myself.”

  “Does that I mean I have to share the one in the kitchen?” he asked.

  She smiled. “If you want it, it’s all yours.”

  “I do. I don’t often get homemade treats.”

  “The nurses don’t bring goodies every day?”

  “Nope. Everyone claims to be on a diet, so we bachelors have to fend for ourselves.”

  “Poor things.” She rose. “Would you like to try a piece now, or wait until tomorrow?”

  “Now, please.”

  “Coming right up.”

  He followed her into the kitchen. “Didn’t you say this was a self-service kitchen?”

  She chuckled. “I’d forgotten. Plates are above the sink and cutlery is in the drawer. You can even cut your own slice.”

  He obeyed, taking such a huge portion that Annie wondered if he intended to eat the entire cake in one sitting. “This is good,” he mumbled between bites.

  Annie smiled as she pulled bags of cubed Cheddar cheese and grapes from the refrigerator, and took a handful of each.

  “Thanks. I used my grandmother’s recipe. Speaking of which, I fixed a few more of my grandad’s favorites for you tomorrow night, if you decide to eat in,” she said as she opened a box of savory crackers. “Just heat the chicken casserole in the microwave.”

  “You shouldn’t have bothered,” he protested. “I didn’t expect you to go to this much trouble just for me.”

  “I promised to feed you, so I am.” She popped a chunk of cheese into her mouth.

  “I might be in the mood for pizza.”

  “Your choice. My grandad loved this dish and so do the guys at the station, so you might taste it before you phone in your order.”

  He eyed her food. “Dinner?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I have something that would go great with that. Come on.” He stuffed the last bite of dessert into his mouth, then grabbed the bag of cheese. Annie had no choice but to follow with the rest.

  She strode into his apartment, hoping to learn more about the man who lived here. His kitchen matched hers, although his small appliances were more up to date and his table more modern. From her initial tour of the complex, she knew that the units on this side of the hallway boasted two bedrooms instead of the one that she had, and she wondered if Jared had turned his extra room into an office or kept it ready for guests.

  He held up two bottles. “I have white zinfandel or a chardonnay.”

  “The white zin,” she said.

  He popped the cork, then poured glasses for both of them. “Make yourself comfortable.”

  She didn’t need a second invitation to explore his living room. A rust-colored leather sofa and oversized recliner formed a cozy grouping around a wide-screen television. Aztec-print pillows and a matching afghan added a variety of rich colors to the room while a large framed print of wild mustangs at a gallop hung on one wall. Several pewter-framed photographs stood on a small table tucked in one corner and Annie moved in for a closer look.

  “Is this your family?” she asked, feeling a twinge of envy of the five young people who resembled each other. Even as a teenager, Jared had been handsome.

  “Two brothers and two sisters, all younger,” he said.

  Another portrait of a couple stood alone. “Your parents?” she asked, again noticing how tall and handsome the dark-haired man was, standing beside his pretty wife.

  He set the food she’d brought on his coffee table before joining her. “Yes. Dad died when I was fourteen.”

  As the oldest, Jared had clearly become the man of the house. That explained a lot.

  “Mom passed away when I was twenty-one,” he added. “Heart attack.”

  “Was it sudden?”

  He shook his head before he swallowed his wine. “She’d had heart trouble for years, but I never knew how bad it was until it was too late. I should have.”

  She sensed the load of guilt still rested heavily on his shoulders. “Maybe she didn’t want you to know.”

  “Maybe.” He didn’t sound convinced.

  “So you raised your siblings,” she guessed.

  “Yeah, and, believe me, it wasn’t easy. I was still in college and almost gave up going to med school.”

  “Clearly, you didn’t.”

  “No. My one brother was old enough to join the Marines, so he did. An aunt and uncle were willing to take in my sisters and other brother, but I insisted we stay together. I had this crazy notion that if I didn’t look after them, something bad would happen.”

  “How did you manage? Med school, internships and residencies don’t allow for much family time.”

  “It was rough because I was gone a lot, but I gave them every spare moment I could. They also had a lot of rules to follow and they weren’t supposed to hang around anyone that I hadn’t met.”

  She chuckled. “I’ll bet that idea flew like a lead balloon.”

  He grinned. “It wasn’t bad when they were young, but once they were teenagers I had my hands full. Life was crazy on a good day, but we survived.”

  “How old were they when your mother died?”

  “Lynn and Carrie were ten and twelve. Todd was thirteen. Rick sent us most of his paycheck, which helped. After fourteen years, the baby of the family, Lynn, finally graduated with her master’s degree. That was nearly a year ago.”

  Envy struck Annie as she imagined what life had been like in their obviously boisterous family. “You must be very close to your brothers and sisters.”

  “We were,” he said ruefully.

  “Were?�
� she asked.

  “We’re adults and now everyone’s gone their separate ways. It was inevitable.”

  She sipped her wine, mentally calculating Jared’s age at thirty-six—a mere eight years older than she was. “Maybe, but speaking for myself, it would have been nice to have someone as a safety net. You’re very fortunate that you had each other.”

  He nodded, but didn’t answer.

  “That’s why I don’t intend to have only one child. When tragedy strikes, it’s too easy to feel adrift when you’re by yourself.” She fell silent, thinking of how loneliness had sent her into Brandon’s arms. Perhaps if she’d had a brother or sister to rely on for emotional support, she wouldn’t have chosen so poorly. However, that was in the past and dwelling on it was self-defeating.

  She refocused on the grouping of photographs, noticing—with a curious sort of relief—that none of them showed Jared with a woman other than his sisters.

  “No girlfriend pictures?” she teased. “Surely you’ve had one or two ladies in your past.”

  “One or two,” he admitted, “but I was too busy to think about romance.”

  “Surely you don’t want to be alone the rest of your life.” The idea of being so by choice was inconceivable. “Don’t you want a wife, a family?”

  “A wife maybe, but I’ll pass on the children.”

  “None?” she asked, incredulous.

  “None,” he stated firmly.

  “But why? You’ve had a trial run. You’re experienced.”

  “I made my choice because of my so-called experience. I came to Hope to concentrate on my career. If I feel the urge to be around family, I pick up the phone. As for children, I’ll be a doting uncle when the time comes.”

  She studied another photo to hide her disappointment. At twenty-eight, she’d been waiting for “the one” who could give her the family she’d wanted, certain that this mysterious fellow would materialize if she possessed enough faith. How disappointing to realize that someone who could easily be placed in the running failed her most important criteria.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be an aunt. She’d make a great one. She simply wanted a brood of her own—little people to tuck in every night and hug every day.

  “Maybe you’ll change your mind,” she said lightly.

  “I won’t.”

  He obviously wouldn’t listen to reason and a lecture on bypassing the better things of life would be wasted while he was in his present frame of mind, so she shifted topics. To her, though, the subject was far from being closed. “Did you always want to be a doctor?”

  “When I was four, I insisted on becoming an acrobat after a circus came to town. When I was seven, I decided the circus wasn’t glamorous enough, so I decided to become an astronaut instead. I remember building a rocket ship out of a cardboard box to show how serious I was. Used an entire roll of duct tape and ruined my mom’s sewing scissors in the process.”

  She chuckled, imagining a younger version of the man before her diligently cutting and taping cardboard pieces together. “You clearly aren’t in the space program, so what happened?”

  He grinned. “I discovered that I don’t like spinning around.”

  “Ah. Not a roller coaster fan?” She arched an eyebrow.

  “No. I like my stomach to stay where it is.” He frowned. “It’s warm in here. Would you rather go back to your place or sit outside?”

  “Outside, please.”

  Jared’s balcony was identical to hers, although his didn’t have the flowers to soften the gray color of concrete. Refusing a chair, she leaned against the top rail and gazed into the evening sky. One star blinked into existence just as Jared broke the silence.

  “What made you choose to become a paramedic?” he asked, sipping his wine.

  “You mean, why didn’t I become a nurse or a doctor?” At his nod, she explained. “A car hit my grandmother in front of our house when I was ten, and I was fascinated by the emergency personnel who arrived to take her to the hospital. Without them, she would have died before she saw a physician. So I decided that I wanted to be involved in pre-hospital care.”

  She grinned. “If it weren’t for guys like us, guys like you couldn’t hog the limelight.”

  His deep, hearty laugh sent a feeling of peace spiraling through her from head to toe. She still couldn’t quite believe the change she’d seen in him over the past few hours. At times she feared the gruff, taciturn man she’d run into so frequently would return, but for now she could imagine that he didn’t exist.

  “What did your parents think of your decision? There couldn’t have been many women in the field at the time.”

  “My dad was a photojournalist and died while covering a story when I was a baby. Mom’s battle with leukemia ended when I was five. Afterwards, I lived with my grandparents. Gran died when I was thirteen from a massive stroke, so until eighteen months ago it was just Grandpa and me.”

  “He didn’t care that you chose a non-traditional career?”

  Annie smiled. “He was a rebel in his day, so he was thrilled to see me following in his footsteps. At least, he was until he toured the station and saw how closely the crews lived together. I thought he’d go ballistic when he saw the dorm where we slept together.”

  He grinned. “Afraid for your honor?”

  “He was very traditional in that regard,” she said fondly. “Before he left that day, he hunted down my partner, Paul, and warned him, if anyone tried any funny business with me, he was holding Paul responsible. I was mortified, of course.”

  “What did Paul say?”

  “He was a good sport about it. Fortunately, no one else heard Grandpa’s threat, or I would have been teased mercilessly. Paul was a great guy and he had a wonderful wife. I was sorry to lose him as my partner.”

  “What happened?”

  She smiled. “A few months after my grandfather died, Paul was promoted and transferred to another station.”

  “So you got a replacement.”

  “Yeah. My new partner and I didn’t seem to have the same rapport, so after I ended my engagement I left.”

  “But you chose to move to Hope.”

  “That’s right.” The town’s name had symbolized what she’d so desperately carried in her heart. Hope that she’d find a fellow who would love her enough to accept her for what she was. Hope that she’d someday have the family she craved. Hope that she could put a dark period in her personal life to rest.

  Determined to turn the spotlight off herself, she asked, “Why did you come to this particular place? I would have thought you would have stayed close to them.”

  “Hope advertised for an ER physician and I applied. They hired me. End of story.”

  Annie wondered if his reasons were truly as simple as he’d made them sound. Did he resent his brothers and sisters for the years he’d worked so hard? Or had starting over been his way to cope with not being needed? Curiosity nibbled at her, but asking questions seemed to take more effort than she could summon at the moment. She was simply content to share his company and enjoy the moment.

  An ache slowly built inside her as she watched Jared cradle his wineglass in his hand. The scent that she recognized purely as his wafted toward her on the breeze, enfolding her in a gentle caress. Awareness simmered inside her as her gaze traveled to a set of shoulders that she knew from personal experience were as solid as they appeared.

  Suddenly she didn’t want to be standing a few feet away from him, making small talk. She wanted to be in his arms, tasting his mouth, touching his skin, and hearing his heart beat. Her fingers itched to feel the texture of his hair, and to keep herself from acting on her impulse she gripped the stem of her glass and focused on the smooth surface.

  Another small gust mingled his scent with that from the lilac bushes dotting the courtyard below. Crickets chirped and a distant dog barked at a passing shadow, but those things seemed inconsequential. The only thing that mattered was being here with Jared, alone on a seclud
ed balcony, shrouded from curious eyes by the growing darkness. Desire warred with common sense, although it was unclear whether it was aided by the wine or the ambience surrounding her like a well-worn garment.

  If she was truly a ground-breaker, a woman of the new millennium, she would step forward and take what she wanted in order to enjoy the moment for what it was. To do so would fill those empty places she carried inside her, but carrying out her impulse would exact a heavy price on her heart. One kiss with Jared would not be enough—neither would a few nights—and he wasn’t, she concluded, the type of man she envisioned as part of her happily-ever-after dream after all.

  He was too strong a force, had too dynamic a personality, for her to imagine that he wouldn’t suffocate her as Brandon had. No type-A men for her.

  “Annie?”

  His tone suggested that he’d been waiting for a response of some sort.

  “Sorry,” she apologized. “What did you say?”

  “Would you like a refill?” He held his glass aloft.

  More wine? If one glass had affected her so greatly, she didn’t want to think about what she might do with two loosening her inhibitions and destroying her common sense.

  “I’d better call it a night,” she said. “Tomorrow will be here before I know it and the past few days are catching up to me.”

  He nodded as he reached for her glass. “I understand.”

  She’d expected to pass it to him without incident, but his fingers had somehow wrapped around hers and she was powerless to break the contact.

  Annie looked up and saw his face hovering above hers, his eyes dark with emotion that even the shadows couldn’t disguise. And then she threw caution to the wind. If he didn’t kiss her right now, she was going to explode from frustration.

  Raising her chin in silent invitation, she waited, but her wait lasted only a fraction of a second. He’d properly read that small movement as a signal of agreement and his mouth covered hers.

  With a small sigh she closed her eyes. His lips were warm, his breath carried the same bouquet as the wine, and she eagerly leaned into his embrace.

  She hardly noticed when his arm came around her, pressing their joined hands between them.