Lightning Strikes Part 3 (36 Hours)

by Mary Lynn Baxter

  “When what?” she asked, though her heart was skipping beats.

  “She had a stroke.”

  Amanda’s mouth flopped open. “A stroke.”

  “A stroke,” he repeated. “I knew then I had no choice. I had to take care of her and the baby.”

  “That’s when you decided to marry her?”

  He nodded. “I asked for a leave of absence and moved to Boulder where I got a job at a hospital. Shortly thereafter, we went through a discreet marriage ceremony.”

  “I…see.”

  “I didn’t have to marry her, only I felt so damned obligated.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t…love her?” Somehow Amanda forced those awful words out of her mouth.

  His body grew taut. “How could you ask me that?”

  “Considering what you’re telling me, how could I not?”

  “Neither one of us was in love with the other. But we both were determined to make things work for the sake of the baby.”

  Her heart was a rattle in her throat.

  “I loved you, dammit, only you.”

  “Which was all the more reason why you should’ve told me.”

  “I couldn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Frankly, I didn’t have the guts.”

  Amanda shook her head. “I don’t buy that.”

  “Also, as I said before, I didn’t want to lose you, knowing how you felt about betrayal.”

  “So now it’s my fault.”

  “Dammit, that’s not what I meant at all. How many times did you tell me how you hated coming from a dysfunctional household, how you hated that both your parents had been married numerous times?”

  “What does that have to do with our situation?”

  “As far as I was concerned, a helluva lot. You also told me how you felt used for having to raise three of your brothers and sisters.”

  “I don’t deny that. But—”

  “You made it quite plain that you thought fathers who walked out on their kids were commode scum, including your own.”

  “I’ll admit that my father’s abandonment left emotional scars and has haunted me all my life, but that’s no reason for you not to have confided in me.”

  “I thought it was a damn good reason.”

  “Well, you thought wrong.”

  “If I didn’t marry Tessa, then you would’ve been partly saddled with another woman’s child. I couldn’t do that to you.”

  “That wasn’t your decision to make.”

  She might as well not have spoken. He went on like a steamroller on the move.

  “But more than that, I believed you would’ve stopped loving me on the spot, told me to go straight to hell.”

  Amanda scrambled to her feet and glared down at him. “How dare you presume to know how I’d feel or what I’d say?”

  “I just—”

  “You just took the chicken way out!”

  “No!”

  “Yes!”

  They glared at each other, then Noah smothered a curse. “Okay, so what would you have said and done?”

  “What difference does it make now? It’s too late. You should have trusted me.”

  “Dammit, don’t you think I know that now?”

  “Where is…she?” Amanda asked, easing down onto the far end of the sofa. “Your wife, I mean.”

  “She’s dead.”

  Torture-filled minutes crawled by.

  “Dead?” Amanda echoed, stunned.

  He leaned his head against the cushion, unresponsive.

  “Noah?”

  He looked over at her, then said in a disjointed voice, “She died giving birth to our son.”

  “Oh, God, I’m sorry.”

  His eyes were like dark stones. “I felt it was my fault. Because I didn’t love her. Because I hated being married to her, I felt I had somehow caused her death.”

  “You know better than that.”

  “I do now, but at the time, guilt was playing me like a yo-yo.”

  “Do her parents have the baby?”

  “No. He died, also.”

  Amanda put both hands against her mouth to keep from crying out loud.

  Noah faced her, pale and swallowing hard. She steeled herself not to go to him, wrap her arms around him and hold him against her. She knew that was what he wanted, what he ached for her to do. But she couldn’t. Something inside her that she couldn’t identify held her stationary.

  “What…happened?”

  “Don’t know, actually. He survived for a few hours—”

  Noah didn’t go on, and she didn’t encourage him to. “Now I understand why you were so caught up in that preemie’s birth, so concerned.” She spoke more to herself than to him.

  But he responded. “You’re right. I kept thinking of Joseph—” He broke off again with a sad smile. “That was his name.”

  Amanda’s heart was breaking for Noah and for herself, but still she couldn’t move. She couldn’t console him, not when she needed consoling.

  “That’s a nice name,” she whispered.

  He looked at her with his heart in his eyes just as her cell phone beeped.

  “Ignore it, please,” he begged.

  Amanda licked her parched lips, stared at the phone, then back at him.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “I…can’t,” Amanda stammered. “But then you know that.”

  “No, of course you can’t.”

  Yet she didn’t walk to the door. This conversation still hadn’t come full circle, and though she was being pulled two ways—to stay and run—she had to compartmentalize their relationship. But to prolong the internal agony was untenable.

  “I won’t say I’m not shocked by what you’ve told me,” she said at last, staring into Noah’s haggard-looking face. “Because I am.”

  “But—”

  Amanda paled, forgetting that he had the uncanny ability to read her mind. “But it’s just too much to absorb all at once.”

  “So are you saying you need more time?”

  She heard the hope in his voice and had no choice but to dash it. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “No, it isn’t,” she stressed. “I’m not sure it’s just time I need.”

  “I want you back, Amanda. I won’t pull any punches about that.”

  “Noah.”

  He crossed the room and stood in front of her. “And I know you want me,” he said thickly.

  She stepped back from him. She couldn’t think, not when he was so close, not when she ached all over from need, not when she knew he felt the same way. She was conscious of the heat coming from his eyes.

  “Love and want are two different things,” she said with a desperation she couldn’t conquer.

  “Not with us.” He ran a finger down one side of her cheek. “With us, they go hand in hand, which is the way it should be.”

  Her mouth went dry. “No.”

  “No, what?” he whispered, once again closing the gap between them.

  “I…I don’t know.”

  Without warning, he reached for her unsteady hand and placed it on his arousal. She stiffened as if she’d been zapped by a jolt of electricity.

  “See, you do know.” His tone was as husky as his eyes were pleading.

  She snatched her hand away, though the damage had been done. Her insides were on fire and her legs were trembling. Still, she found the courage to do what she knew she had to do.

  “Stop it, Noah. Stop it right now!”

  He seemed taken aback by the abrupt change in the emotional atmosphere. His jaw began to spasm, and he heaved a deep sigh.

  That split second gave Amanda the leverage she needed to move out of harm’s way. From a position by the door, she watched him, steeling herself against the hurt, dejected look that suddenly seemed to add years to his life.

  “Stop what, Amanda? Stop loving you?”

  She gripped the doorknob so hard, she felt sure her knuck
les would crack. “I don’t know,” she cried. “It’s…not that easy.”

  “To forgive? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

  “Yes, I guess it is.” She paused and cleared her throat, which was jammed with held-back tears. “God, Noah, you’ve been married to another woman and had a baby by her.”

  A deadly quiet fell over the room.

  “But I never stopped loving you.”

  “And you think that makes it all right?”

  “No, dammit, I’m not saying that.” He didn’t try to hide his exasperation. “When you get right down to it, our choices in life are black and white, at least when everything’s stripped away, as it was in my case.”

  Her forehead gathered into seams. “Or so you thought.”

  “Again, I admit I messed up. But short of killing myself, I have to go on.”

  “Not necessarily with me.”

  He winced as if she’d slapped him.

  “You should have trusted me, Noah. I can’t say that enough.”

  “I know that, but I can’t undo what’s already been done. All I can do now is to ask you to forgive me, to ask you to trust me again.”

  Trust.

  That word, Amanda thought. A word that had always been high on her priority list, a word that he’d taken in vain, along with her heart.

  “I—” She couldn’t go on. The words wouldn’t come. She peered down, then back up.

  The expression on his face robbed her of her breath. He looked as though she’d kicked him when he was down. His face was pinched in agony and had turned a greenish shade. She almost went to him then and to hell with the consequences.

  She didn’t.

  Too much was at stake. If and when she ever went back to Noah, she had to be sure that loving trust, and not sexual need, was the driving force behind her decision.

  “So, I guess I’ll see you around, then.” His tone was desolate.

  “Stay as long as you want,” she whispered, her voice not in any better shape than his. “Just be sure and lock the door behind you.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  She stood there a moment longer, unwilling to leave, but again knowing she had no choice.

  * * *

  Somehow, Amanda made it through the remainder of Saturday night, torn and drained to the maximum. Although several patients came through the ER, none of them were serious. She and the nurses were able to take care of them.

  Amanda was certain that Noah had returned to the hospital, but since she hadn’t seen him, she didn’t know that for sure. Malcom Riley had returned, but only to earn Brownie points for the chief’s job. Amanda was convinced of that. Still, his presence would relieve Noah.

  She didn’t want to think about Noah right now, not with her mind so numb. If she could have gotten away with it, she would have sat down on the spot, put her head in her hands and fallen asleep.

  “I hope you’re headed back home,” Liz remarked. “If not, we’re going to be checking you into one of these rooms. Diagnosis—exhaustion.”

  Amanda had to force herself to respond. “That might not be a bad idea.”

  Liz raised an eyebrow. “My, you must be dead on your tootsies to agree to that.”

  “How `bout yourself? You should be in the same boat with me.”

  “For some reason, I’m feeling no pain.” Liz broke off with a smile. “And I haven’t been near a bar or sniffed anything.”

  This time Amanda did smile. “Now that you mention it—”

  “Ah, get outta here.”

  “I’m going to do just that, only I hate going home to a dark house. My candles are fast running out.”

  “You can forget the candles.”

  “Huh?”

  “Take a look outside,” Liz said, cocking her head toward the window.

  “And let there be light,” Amanda said, trying to force some excitement into her voice.

  “And there was light,” Liz finished with a hand clap.

  Amanda peered at her watch.

  “It’s Sunday morning, at 6:00 a.m., to be exact.”

  “Whatever,” Amanda said. “I’m going home. And I hope you’re going to do the same.”

  “You bet I am. First, though, I’m going to check with Karen to see if there’s been any word on Victoria.”

  Amanda frowned, suddenly feeling badly that she hadn’t taken the initiative.

  As though Liz knew what she was thinking, she said, “Don’t beat up on yourself about that. Gosh, you’ve had more on your plate than you could digest.”

  “I know, but I still feel terrible. If she’s still missing, Karen and Cassidy must be going through living hell.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “If you find out anything that I need to know,” Amanda said, “call me at home.”

  “I promise.”

  Fifteen minutes later, having discarded yet another bloody coat, then freshened up, Amanda walked out of her office. Though she was a long way from being back to normal, the last two days having redefined the word work, she did feel better, physically, anyway.

  Mentally, she was a basket case. She didn’t know if she would ever again be back to normal. In a matter of thirty-six hours, her life had been turned inside out. Gone was the content, all-together person who had come to work Friday evening. In her place was a confused, out-of-control woman who wanted to do what Randi Howell had done—leave town.

  Instead of walking out the door to her car, Amanda gave in to another idea that suddenly struck her. She whipped around and headed to the chapel.

  For a moment, she stood in the doorway in awe, staring at the unpretentious beauty of her surroundings on the quiet Sunday morning. She went to church when she could, but her schedule didn’t often allow her much time. Hence, she used the chapel as her place of worship.

  After staring into the ceiling-to-floor stained glass window, she eased into a pew, then immediately gave thanks that the worst of the weather and the ER trauma had passed. She also said a prayer for her co-worker, Karen Sloane, whose child was still missing.

  Amanda then breathed in and out, willing her heart rate to settle. Until she sat down, she hadn’t realized just how hyper she was.

  That was a lie, she told herself. She’d been hyper ever since she had first encountered Noah in the hallway almost thirty-six hours ago. Even now, if she hadn’t been sitting, thinking of him and what had transpired between them would probably have sent her to her knees.

  At that, she shook all over, unable to forget that agonized expression on his face. She had never stopped loving Noah. She had readily admitted that. If he had asked her that question, she wouldn’t have lied to him.

  So he had pulled off what she would have sworn was impossible. He had bulldozed his way back into her life and rekindled her love. Yet love couldn’t whitewash everything, could it?

  Suddenly, Amanda twisted her head and looked around the chapel. Finding that she was alone relieved her mind; she feared she might have verbally vented her misery.

  Gordon.

  Where did he fit into her life now? Had he ever fit into her life? Or had she done a cruel and unjust thing? Had she used him as a stop-gap measure until she could get over Noah?

  No.

  While she knew she didn’t love Gordon with the passion and devotion he deserved, she nonetheless had thought she could have a good, stable life with him. Now she knew better. She would be cheating them both—herself out of the passion she ached for and him out of the love he deserved.

  Without love and passion, she would be settling for second best, which she had done most of her young life. Well, no more. She knew what it was to have a life of her own, to be independent, to be needed for herself. Having come to the chapel had helped her regain her perspective, her stability, except for one thing. Noah.

  She still didn’t know what to do about him.

  One thing she was sure of, she couldn’t marry Gordon. She had to tell him. She couldn’t wait any longer. Though she dreaded the emotiona
l upheaval that task would bring to her already battered heart, she had to do it.

  Slipping out of the pew, Amanda stared at the beauty of the altar for a moment longer, begging for peace to steal over her.

  It didn’t happen. That peace eluded her.

  Yet she never wavered. She picked up her phone and scrolled through her contact list to find Gordon’s name. After taking a deep breath, she hit the Call button.

  Moments later, she said, “Hi, Gordon, it’s me. Can you come to the chapel at the hospital? We have to talk.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Noah expected his chest to rupture at any moment. He’d been jogging for an hour, up hills and down hills. The fact that it was wet and that he’d had to watch his step hadn’t helped any. Being hampered in that manner not only put pressure on his legs, but on his heart, as well. He had to pay attention, and that was not the purpose of a healthy jog. Running was an exercise that usually didn’t tax his mind.

  This morning, however, as disturbed as he was, he had to use all his faculties, realizing that if he fell he could injure his arm or hand, then he couldn’t operate. He’d be totally useless.

  Hell, he was totally useless now.

  Noah slowed his jog to a near walk before lifting his head to the sky. Thank God it had stopped raining and the city was no longer in the dark. He’d lived through some terrifying storms, but this one had topped the list.

  Many more days and Grand Springs might not have survived the onslaught. As he walked, Noah took in the destruction around him and winced. None of his private property had been damaged. Maybe that was because he lived in a condo. His mother’s home had also remained intact. Many others weren’t so lucky. The slashing winds and heavy rain had ripped off roofs, knocked down signs and broken glass, not to mention the added devastation of the mud slides.

  But all that could be replaced. The handful of casualties that were a direct or indirect result of the chaos were irreplaceable. He hadn’t lost anything or anyone physically, or so he hoped, as thoughts of Randi came to mind, sending a chill through him that had nothing to do with the weather.

  So far there had been no word on his sister or her whereabouts. He had spoken to his mother last night, and her frame of mind had not improved. In fact, she had become more agitated with him, which was okay.