by Tina Beckett
“Oh, is that all?” She turned away.
“What?” Stunned, he froze in place.
“Kidding.” She gave a sly grin over her shoulder. “Got it. Important stuff around here.”
“And, besides that, it tastes really, really good.”
“Okay, can we get some, then?”
“Absolutely. Your orientation would not be complete without a sampling of green chili cheese fries.” Another sign of her adventurous spirit if she was willing to try an unknown food on his recommendation. That was very attractive to him. But he remembered his fiancée had also had an adventurous spirit and look where that had left them. Her dead. Him with a broken heart.
Minutes later, they had a pile of steaming French fries in front of them, topped with green chili sauce and shredded cheddar cheese. The consistency of gravy, the sauce was absolutely amazing, as far as Duncan was concerned, and he was an expert.
“If you don’t like this, I’m afraid your contract will have to be terminated.”
“Oh, give me a break, it will not.” She gave the first natural-sounding laugh he’d heard out of her since they’d met. That was a good sign. This was fun, showing her something she’d never seen or even heard of before. Gave him new appreciation of it, too, to experience it again through her eyes, and his heart lightened.
Duncan watched as Rebel took a fry, dripping in chili sauce and cheese, and put it in her mouth. She closed her eyes as she chewed. What was it about eating a meal with some people that was so erotic? He didn’t care as he took in how Rebel’s face changed and her eyes popped open, surprise filling those incredible green eyes of hers. His mouth began to water and it wasn’t for food but a taste of her. Even against his better judgment, the longer he spent with her, the more intrigued he became. Could he engage in a casual relationship with her, knowing she’d leave in a few months? Could they have a simple, sexual relationship and let the rest go? It was worth thinking about.
“That is spectacular. You’re gonna have to get your own, pal, ’cos I’m not sharing.” She slid the plate closer to her.
“I’ll tell Herm you cheated.” He slid the plate in front of him.
“I did not.” The plate returned to Rebel.
“Who’s he gonna believe, you or me?” Duncan reached for the plate but Rebel narrowed her eyes and held on to it.
“You are evil. And I believe that’s blackmail.”
“Then you have to share.” He slid the plate into the middle again. “And it’s actually extortion.” He shrugged at her look. “Got a cousin who’s a lawyer.”
“Fine. But you know what they say about payback.”
“I do. And it is.” He grinned and dug his fork into the bliss on the plate, deciding to shove away thoughts of a casual sexual relationship for the moment.
“So you have a hobby farm?”
Duncan tried not to choke at her description. “If you can call ten thousand acres a hobby farm.” That was in Hatch, New Mexico alone. Cousins in surrounding areas worked ranches half that size, but every acre produced quality chili in dozens of varieties.
“Shut. Up.” Disbelief covered her face.
“I will not. I’m highly offended at that.” Not.
“I mean, really?” She paused and looked at the chili on her fork. “Is this from your…ranch?”
“Probably. We ship all over the world.”
“I’d love to see this place.”
“I’d love to show it to you.” Showing off the family estate was a piece of cake, and he’d taken a few lady friends there. Unfortunately, once they’d seen the size of his family holdings, they’d changed, expected more out of him and offered less. Sharing the money was part of the reason he enjoyed it. He was just a regular guy whose family had created wealth by working hard. His fiancée hadn’t cared, and it hadn’t changed their relationship, but she’d been an exceptional woman. She’d been his friend as well as his lover. And he missed that, wanted it again. But was he as appealing on his own without the draw of the wealth? With some women he hadn’t known, but it had been a factor over and over again, enough to make him hesitate, less likely to take risks on a woman. Especially with a woman who might not even be around in a few months.
He wanted a woman who had heart and soul and a passion for living that equaled his own. So if he was honest with himself, he wanted the whole package, the soulmate deal, not just a sexy roommate he had nothing else in common with.
“It’s obviously not here in town.” Rebel’s statement brought him back to the conversation.
“No. South of here. Just follow the river and stop before you hit Mexico.” A place his heart lived.
“Cool. Maybe someday I can see it. I love to take day trips when I’m on my assignments to see places I never would be able to otherwise.”
Just as Duncan put a forkful of the heavenly stuff in his mouth, his phone received an emergency text. He looked at it quickly, then back at Rebel. “Grab the fries. We gotta go.”
Rebel took her newly discovered dish with her as they raced back to the ER and back to saving lives.
* * *
Two hours passed before Rebel surfaced from the trauma room. What had come in had been a tractor trailer versus motorcycle. Neither had won.
Rebel combed back the hair of the young man lying on the gurney while awaiting the arrival of his parents. He was only twenty-five and brain dead. She hoped his parents would consent to organ donation as there was no indication on his driver’s license.
“How are you?” Herm entered the room.
“Okay.” She sighed and looked at him. “I was thinking about how many people this one person can help, and he won’t even know it.”
“It’s true.” Herm pursed his lips in contemplation for a moment. “If it’s a match, it’s a match.” He rubbed his eyes and turned away from the patient, who was being kept alive on a respirator. “Unfortunately, I’ve seen too many young folks like this.”
“You’d think that it would get easier over the years, but it doesn’t. We just learn to get through it, shake it off, and do it all over again.” Fatigue swamped her. Herm was a very observant man, and he didn’t miss that.
“You’re sure you’re okay? I can have someone else monitor him for a while and give you a break.”
“Nope. I’m good.”
“His folks are on the way. Should be here within the hour. You can finish your orientation materials in here and keep an eye on him at the same time, can’t you?”
“Sure.” Nurses were forever being tasked with multiple duties at one time. Part of the job and part of the way nurses were built.
“Is there something you need to tell me about? If there is, I’m a good listener.” He turned his full attention to her.
“No.” She placed a hand on his arm. “I appreciate the offer, though.” A sigh escaped her. “He reminds me a bit of my brother, Ben. He died a few years ago. Now and then the memories spring up for me.”
“I’m sorry, Rebel. If I had known…”
“You couldn’t have, and I’ll be all right.” With a nod, Herm left her to her thoughts.
After the situation was tended to and the parents had given consent, the patient was taken to the operating room. It was a somber time, and she needed some fortitude to get through the rest of the shift.
She entered the staff lounge and poured herself a cup of coffee, wishing for something strong to put into it, like Irish whiskey or coffee liqueur Kahlua. After the last couple of hours she could use a stiff drink.
Just as she was about to have her first sip, the lounge door opened and Duncan entered. He stopped short when he saw her. “Don’t drink that. It’ll kill you.”
“What? It’s coffee, not hemlock.”
“It’s awful.” He rummaged in a cupboard over the sink. In just a few minutes he’d put on a new pot of coffee and the brew smelled heavenly. Her mouth even watered. “I keep a stash of the good stuff for just the right occasion.”
“And this is it?”
“Seems good enough for me.” He gave a sideways smile that made her heartbeat a little irregular.
“Wow. That smells like Jamaica, or what I imagine it to be.” She’d never been there, so she could only imagine.
“It does, and that’s why I like it.”
“I’ve never been there, but it’s on my bucket list for sure.” It was a very long list.
“Seriously? Your bucket list? What are you, thirty?” He peered at her, trying to figure out if she was serious.
“Yes, I’d like to go there before I die. That’s what a bucket list is about, right?” She’d go there and go other places her family hadn’t been able to go to. Someday. Before she died. Hopefully.
“You’re out of your mind.” He stared at her as if she was.
“Why?” She frowned. “Didn’t you say you liked Jamaica?”
“Jamaica isn’t a place you go before you die. It’s a place you go in the prime of your life, with a lover on your arm, taking long walks on the beach. Hell, even sleeping on the beach.” He shook his head and sipped some more, considering her. “You need to move Jamaica up on that list.” He tipped his empty coffee cup at her. “It’s for young people. Long days at play and longer nights in your lover’s arms. That’s what Jamaica is for.”
Though the description sounded fantastic, she’d put away fantasies of having a normal, loving relationship with a man a long time ago. No man would willingly go into a relationship knowing his partner could die any time, and waiting until she was well into a relationship before telling a man wasn’t fair either. It would be starting a relationship on a lie, and she wouldn’t do that. “That’s all well and good, but I don’t have anyone to go with.” She shrugged as if it didn’t matter to her when it really did. “I don’t date, so I’d end up going by myself anyway. It can wait.” Something about his description of Jamaica scratched at a door she’d locked long ago. With her family DNA she wasn’t a marriage candidate. She’d accepted it. Explaining it wasn’t going to change it.
Duncan nearly spilled the coffee he was pouring. “What do you mean, you don’t date? A woman with your looks, your smarts should be beating men off with a stick. Why wouldn’t you have someone whisk you off to Jamaica for a week of passion?” The thought was ludicrous. Even he, who had serious commitment issues, had been to Jamaica with a woman before now.
Rebel glanced away and got fidgety. Uh-oh. He’d offended her.
“It’s not something you’d understand, but I just don’t date very much.” Her smile was tight and that open door to communication they’d been enjoying had just slammed shut. He poured her coffee and brought it to her at the table where she sat.
“You should. You’d live longer.”
She looked at him then, doubt covering her face.
“It’s a documented fact that people who have a regular sex life live longer than those who don’t.”
“Now, that’s just not true.” She flat out didn’t believe him.
“Sure it is. Read it in a men’s health magazine. Three orgasms a week, and you’ll live longer.”
Flabbergasted, obviously uncomfortable with the topic, she delayed by adding some milk and sweetener to her coffee. “Yes, well. I’ll take that into consideration should the occasion arise.”
He sat at the table with her and hid a grin as he pursued the topic against his better judgment. What was it about Rebel that was making him take more risks, want to take even bigger risks, than he had in, like, forever? “As a traveler, you control your own destiny, right? Your own schedule?”
“In theory. I can always refuse an assignment or take a break between. But being a traveler is like being on permanent vacation and having a full-time job at the same time.” She shrugged. “I don’t take vacations either.”
“That’s a serious infraction against adding fun to your life.” He took a sip of the steaming brew, but his gaze remained intently focused on her. “This is definitely what I remember from Jamaica.” He closed his eyes, and instantly an image of walking with Rebel on the beach at night surfaced in his mind. The wind teased her luxurious hair against his skin as he reached out to bring her closer to him. That was too easy, so he opened his eyes.
“Sounds like it was a good experience for you.” She wished she could say the same. There was nothing else going on in her life so she just worked. Although some people might call that sad, she saw it as a necessity to get through her painful life. If there was too much extra time she thought too much of her family losses.
“It was.” He focused his full attention on her in that probing way she was coming to associate with him. “But what you said concerns me, Rebel.” He got all serious then.
“Oh, don’t be. It’s the way I live my life. Quiet, unassuming, devoted to work.” Avoiding emotional intimacy and relationships along the way. They only resulted in loss and she’d had enough of that in her life.
“I get that. You can be all that and still date, maybe add a layer of fun to your life. It doesn’t have to be all about work, does it?”
“At this point, it does.” She put down her cup. “I’m not comfortable having this discussion with you, Duncan, so can we table it and just have a nice cup of coffee together?”
“Sure.” He nodded. “Sure.” Wow. That was a very strong boundary she’d erected around herself in seconds flat. She’d obviously been doing it for some time. Most people were willing to talk a little about themselves, some people talked entirely too much about themselves, but Rebel was a different issue and that intrigued him. He loved a good mystery, and Rebel was cocooned in it.
“You mentioned your family has lived here for some time.” She was changing the topic away from herself. That was okay for now, but he wanted to know more about her and one day he would find out. For the moment, he let it go.
“Yes. Although I favor the Hispanic side of my family in looks, the other side is Scottish. If you talked to my grandfather, you’d think he’d just gotten off the ship.”
“What do you mean?”
“His grandparents were from Scotland and immigrated here, so he learned English with a heavy Scottish accent.” Even the memory of the man made him smile. He was an old codger, but lovable. Sometimes. On occasion. If he felt like it.
“Oh, wow.” A small smile curved her lips upward.
“Yes, you should hear him when he gets going on something.”
“Like what?” She leaned forward, her green eyes sparkling now.
“Like formal introductions when you meet someone for the first time.” He’d had that pounded into his brain over and over as a kid, so it wasn’t something he’d ever forget.
“Come again?” Her brows twitched upward.
Duncan set his coffee cup down, cleared his throat as if preparing for a stately oration and struck a dignified pose. “Hoo d’ye expec’ people t’ remembe’ hoo ye are if ye don’ intr’duce y’self?” Duncan gave a plausible Scottish accent, rolling his tongue in all the right places.
Rebel laughed out loud and covered her mouth with her hand. “In this day and age? He’s still stuck on introductions and proper manners? Are you kidding me?”
Wide-eyed, Duncan gave her a serious look. “Absolutely not. When I was a kid he was tough on all of us when it came to manners. We thought he was from another planet. I now have a highly tuned reflex to open a door if a woman even thinks of going through one.”
“I’d like to meet this grandfather of yours sometime. He sounds like a kick in the pants.” She sipped her coffee and Duncan picked up his cup, too.
“He is. And that’s something I’d like to see. You and all that red hair could give him a run for his money.” He leaned forward and peered intently at her. “I’m willing to bet there’s a bit of a temper hidden down in there somewhere in the right circumstances.”
“What are you talking about?” She played it up, wide-eyed, and blinked innocently at him. “I’m just a simple lass of Irish descent.”
Duncan barked out a laugh. �
��Like I’m going to believe that anytime soon.” He shook his head, enjoying this repartee. “But I’m willing to bet you didn’t come in here for a chat about my family history.”
“Nope, but that’s okay. It’s been an interesting chat.”
Duncan tilted his head as an even more interesting thought entered his mind. Why not? “I’m going to see him this weekend if you’d like to come along. He won’t go see his doctor, so I have to give him the once-over a couple of times every year, make sure everything’s still ticking the right way.”
“Oh, sure. I’m off this weekend. Sounds like fun.” She pointed a finger at him. “But it’s not a date, just a field trip.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up on Saturday morning for a non-date field trip.” He looked at his watch then sighed. “Guess I’ll let you get back to your reading.”
Rebel nodded. “Thanks for the coffee.” She smiled, but it was less exuberant than her laughter had been only moments ago and he could see she was fading away. Whatever had happened to her still had enough pull to drag her away.
“Anytime.” Duncan watched her go out the door, careful to avoid any coffee spillage. More puzzled and intrigued than he’d been about a woman in some time, he wondered what was going on with Rebel Taylor that she’d left romance, relationships and thoughts of romantic islands behind. She was too dynamic to wither away her youth. How in the world could he help her when she wouldn’t cop to what was really going on? One way or another, he’d find out.
That thought stuck with him for most of the day. Rebel was in the prime of her life, had her career path laid out, obviously single without children or she wouldn’t be working as a travel nurse.
As he moved through his day in the ER, seeing patients with spring flu or a kid with serious road rash on his right arm and leg after crashing on a bicycle that was too big for him, to writing up notes and reviewing radiology reports, he’d see Rebel in a corner of the nurses’ station seemingly engrossed or hypnotized by the computer screen. Probably bored out of her mind.
He’d been pursued by women of many cultures and from unfathomable wealth, but none had captured his interest the way Rebel had. Women in his social circle were generally predictable, demanding, and spoiled rotten, and he wanted nothing to do with that anymore. After the death of his fiancée, he’d changed. The experience had changed him. But he was interested in a trim woman with flaming red hair and sad eyes that made him want to know why.