by Radclyffe
The patient opened his eyes, his pupils flickering unevenly, his gaze roving from face to face. With each second his expression became more confused and frightened. “What…”
“It’s all right, Ned,” Nita said quickly. “We’re going to transfer you to the hospital in Hyannis. You may have had a heart attack, but you’re doing okay now.”
“Maggie?” he asked, his voice hoarse and uncertain.
“I tried to call your wife earlier and got her voice mail. I’ll call her again,” Nita said firmly. “Right now you just relax.”
“What happened? I don’t remember…”
“You had an irregular heartbeat, but we’ve got it under control.”
“Am I going to die?”
“You had a rough patch, but you’re very stable now.” Nita smiled and squeezed his arm. “Dave and Flynn will take you to the hospital. They’ll be in touch with us if there are any problems along the way.”
“It’s bad, isn’t it?”
“It’s serious,” Nita said gently. “But I’m telling you the truth. You need to be in the hospital, but your chances of doing well are very good.”
“I need to see my minister.” Ned turned his head from side to side, looking anxiously from one face to another. “I need my phone. I need to call Father Williams.”
Tory said, “I’ll try to reach him and let him know where you are. But we can’t really wait, Ned. I’m sorry. I want you in the hospital as quickly as possible.”
“Please,” Ned said, his voice rising. “I need—”
“Mr. Framingham,” Flynn said, clasping his hand. His skin had warmed, and some of the color had returned to his face. The terrible stillness of almost-death had passed. “I’m a priest. I’ve given you last rites. Your minister will be able to see you later.”
The shadows disappeared from Ned’s eyes. “Thank you…do I call you Father?”
She smiled. “You can. Or Reverend. Or you can just call me Flynn.”
“Father Flynn,” he muttered and closed his eyes. “Thank you.”
“Thank you, Flynn,” Tory said again. “Now we really need to move him.”
“We’re on it.” Flynn and Dave worked on opposite sides of the treatment table, silently performing their practiced routine of transferring patient, intravenous lines, catheters, and monitoring devices to the stretcher.
“I’ll be across the hall,” Tory said to Reese. “I have another patient to check, and then we can head to the airport.”
“You’re sure? Not too tired?”
Tory smiled. “Believe me, it will feel like a vacation.”
“Can I come with you?” Flynn asked over her shoulder.
“Yes,” Tory said.
“You got this, Dave?” Flynn asked. “I’ll just be a second.”
“Sure, go ahead. I’ll finish up and give you a holler,” Dave said.
Flynn followed Tory across the hall and into the treatment room where they’d left Mica. Stomach sinking, she stared at the empty treatment table.
“Maybe she went to the bathroom.” Tory turned back to the hall.
“No,” Flynn said, “she’s gone.”
“Well, damn it,” Tory muttered, standing in the doorway of the treatment room with her hands on her hips.
“Trouble?” Reese joined them and slid her hand onto the back of Tory’s neck.
“I don’t know. My patient seems to have disappeared.” Tory frowned and looked at Flynn. “Did you get the sense she was going to run?”
Flynn grimaced. “No, but I probably should have. She was reluctant to come at all, but I thought once she was here she’d be okay.”
“Who was she?” Reese asked.
“A young girl who’d been knocked off her bicycle by a car,” Tory said. “Did you check her ID, Flynn?”
“No. I just assumed the officers on scene did. She said her name was Mica Butler.”
“Really? She didn’t look like a Butler,” Tory said.
Flynn grimaced. Mica’s disappearance was accomplishing exactly what Mica seemed to want to avoid—attention. “Lots of reasons for that.”
“You’re right, of course,” Tory said.
“And now she’s just gone?” Reese scanned the hall. “Maybe she’s still here somewhere.”
“I don’t think so,” Tory said.
Dave pushed the gurney with Mr. Framingham out of the other treatment room. “Ready to roll, Flynn.”
Flynn hesitated. “Will you let me know if you find her, Dr. King?”
Tory nodded. “I should probably check the bathroom, but I don’t think she’s in there.”
“Thanks.” Flynn grasped the end of the stretcher. “Okay, let’s get Mr. Framingham to Hyannis.”
Tory pushed open the door to the bathroom. “Empty.”
“How much do you know about this girl?” Reese asked as she and Tory checked the other rooms. Mica was gone.
“Very little, really. I was just starting to evaluate her when Ned crashed.” Tory collected her missing patient’s chart and carried it back to her office. She sat behind her desk, and Reese settled on a chair in front of it. Tory scanned the intake sheets. “Flynn’s field report doesn’t indicate anything out of the ordinary. The girl was conscious upon initial evaluation. I don’t have the first responder’s report—that would’ve been filled out by your people.”
“Let me find out who took the call.” Reese pulled her cell from her front pocket. “Did you get the sense something else was going on with her, other than the accident itself?”
“As Flynn said, she seemed reluctant to be here. She wasn’t very forthcoming with information, but that’s not unusual with trauma patients. They’re often confused or disoriented.” Tory replayed the earlier scene in her mind. “There were a few things that bothered me. She seemed to be a little too familiar with physical injury. I didn’t have a chance to talk to her about her past medical history.”
“Domestic abuse?” Reese punched in a series of numbers. “Hey, Gladys. It’s Reese. Can you run down who took the accident call a half hour ago and have them call me? Thanks.”
“Abuse is certainly a possibility,” Tory said. “But her reference to previous fractures and a black eye could have been due to an old trauma. I thought she was being uncommunicative as a result of today’s accident. Obviously, I was wrong. What I took to be post-traumatic confusion was more…distrust.”
“Or guilt?”
“Hmm. Maybe.” Tory sighed. “If pushed, I’d say she was afraid of something. I wish I’d had more time to talk with her.”
“Well, I trust your instincts. If you think something was off, then something was.” Reese impatiently flipped her phone back and forth in her hand. “This town is a challenging place to keep safe. Most of the year keeping the peace is just a matter of dealing with medical emergencies, traffic accidents, missing kids, and the alcohol-related domestic problems that come with too few jobs and too much time. Then tourist season hits, the population swells by a magnitude of ten, and we’ve suddenly got a village crammed with itinerant workers, partying teenagers, and more sophisticated criminal types.”
“You mean drugs and prostitution?”
Reese nodded. “And not just the homegrown back-room sex-for-sale variety either. Resort towns are starting to become targets for organized crime.”
“I can’t imagine this girl was involved in anything like that. She seemed more like a runaway, if I had to categorize her.”
“Is she at risk physically as a result of the accident?”
“I don’t think so—probably not. My initial exam didn’t show anything of major concern. I wanted to observe her a while, and then Ned… I’m afraid I didn’t do a very good job with her.” Tory pushed the chart aside, checked her watch, and stood. “Damn it. We should go.”
“Baby,” Reese murmured, putting her arms around Tory’s waist. “You had a guy dying across the hall. Cut yourself some slack here.”
“I know.” Tory leaned into Reese’s embr
ace. “But just because someone isn’t dying doesn’t mean their need isn’t just as great.”
Reese kissed Tory and drew her closer. “Nobody in the world does this job better than you. Let me see what I can find out about her. Do you still want to go to Boston?”
Tory kissed Reese, absorbing the heat of her body and the surprising softness of her mouth compared to the hard strength of her arms. “Nothing is going to change the way I feel about having another baby with you. And I’m ready to get started.”
*
“You’ve been pretty quiet all shift,” Dave said, stuffing his gear bag into his locker.
Flynn unbuttoned her uniform shirt, pulled it off, and folded it. She drew a plain white shirt from her locker, put it on over her navy T-shirt, and tucked it into her jeans. “Sorry. Not very good company, I guess.”
Dave laughed. “Believe me, I’ll take you over Barrymore any day. If I have to listen to him recite the latest baseball statistics for five more minutes, I might have to kill him.”
“Yeah, and the World Series hasn’t even started yet.”
“Something’s bugging you, though, right?”
“No.” Flynn slammed her locker. She didn’t want to talk about Mica.
“Uh—about the thing with Ned—what you did.” He looked at her questioningly, his face creased with curiosity and maybe a little hurt.
Flynn held his gaze. “I’m a priest.”
“Wow.”
She smiled. “Not exactly.”
He laughed and shook his head. “But you’re not…” He looked uncertain. “Doing it…or whatever.”
“No,” Flynn said softly. “I’m not. I’ll see you tomorrow, Dave.”
His eyebrows rose, but he didn’t ask anything else. “Sure thing.”
Flynn headed outside and turned toward town, no destination in mind. She needed to walk off the agitation that had her nerves jangling all afternoon. She hadn’t expected Mica to run. She’d misjudged her or underestimated what was really bothering her. Mica had been scared, she knew that, and worried about her job, but something more than that had made her run. But whatever trouble was chasing her wasn’t Flynn’s concern. She wasn’t Mica’s priest. She wasn’t anyone’s priest.
Chapter Five
Reese leaned both arms on the wooden deck railing behind the house and watched the Boston ferry skim into Provincetown Harbor, its running lights casting bright flickering tunnels across the inky surface of the water. A full moon rode high overhead, illuminating the beach with the brightness of daylight. In the swath of bushes that separated the house from the beach, silvery moonlight reflected off the eyes of some creature rummaging in the undergrowth for dinner. Damp night air thick with the sweet scent of kelp and the tang of sea life misted her cheeks. Her T-shirt stuck to her chest with a combination of salty air and sweat. Even though the night was humid, she didn’t mind the dampness on her skin. After the desert, where the hot dry air evaporated every drop of moisture the instant it formed, leaving her eyes gritty and her skin sandpaper-parched, the dewy air was like a balm to burned flesh. She straightened at the sound of footsteps behind her.
“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight,” Tory said, resting her hand in the center of Reese’s back. She circled slowly, massaging the columns of muscles on either side of Reese’s spine.
Reese turned away from the harbor, slid her arm around Tory’s waist, and kissed her forehead. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Tory fiddled with a button on Reese’s cotton shirt. “I’m not used to having you all to myself for a whole day. I’ll get spoiled.”
“Well, maybe we should try this again sometime, when we don’t have to fly to Boston to be together.”
Tory laughed and nipped at Reese’s chin. “That’s a novel suggestion.”
“Do you think the little swimmers are ready yet?”
“Nicely thawed and ready for action.”
Reese’s breath caught in her chest. The thunder in her head was a mere fraction of the panic that had gripped her when she’d first contemplated another pregnancy. Since then she’d had time to think, time to be rational, time to appreciate what Tory needed. She steadied her breathing, quieted her pulse. Nothing should interfere with this moment, especially her fears. “I think we should head upstairs, then. We don’t want to keep them waiting.”
“In a minute.” Tory settled into Reese’s arms, looping her arms around Reese’s hips and resting her chin on Reese’s chest. “First, do you want to tell me what Wendy said this afternoon that’s bothering you?”
Reese stroked Tory’s hair. “What makes you think—”
“Don’t even go there.” Tory swayed, her hips notched comfortably into Reese’s, their bodies fitting together seamlessly, as if they had always been two parts of one whole. “Ordinarily I’d wait, because I know you’ll tell me when you’re ready. But considering what’s on the agenda for tonight, I think I’d better know first.”
Reese sighed and rubbed her cheek on top of Tory’s head. “Just now, I was thinking about the desert.”
Tory stiffened infinitesimally and then relaxed again. “What about it?”
“I’m okay,” Reese said, knowing Tory would immediately worry. She was okay. She’d been okay from the moment she’d climbed out of the transport that had brought her home and stepped into Tory’s arms. Sure, she had nightmares, just like every other vet. She had regrets, guilt, and soul-deep remorse for the decisions she’d made that had led to the deaths of others. But she had been ready for the realities of war—she’d trained all her life for the sacrifice service demanded. She knew the price of war and that everyone—civilians and troops—paid, in one form or another. “Being here with you and Reggie is what gets me through every day.”
Tory kissed her throat. “Me too. And I can’t stand it when you’re hurting.”
“I’m not hurting.” Reese stroked the thick silky tresses and absorbed the quiet strength she counted on every day. “Sometimes I try to imagine what my life would have been like if I’d never met you. If I didn’t have you. If I didn’t have Reggie.”
Tory tightened her hold. “Why?”
“Maybe to figure out how I got so lucky. Maybe just to know what I need to do to be sure I never lose you.”
“Oh, love,” Tory murmured, pressing her mouth to the base of Reese’s throat. “I love you. You never need to worry about me not being here.”
“You know what I see when I think about my life without you?”
Tory trembled. “What?”
“Nothing. Silent cold darkness.”
“Darling, don’t do this to yourself. If my having a baby is going to torture you this way—”
“No.” Reese rubbed her hands up and down Tory’s back. “It’s not about another baby. It’s about all the things I can’t control. All the things that I can’t guard against.”
“You are a wonderful partner, an amazing mother, and a remarkable sheriff. You take care of all of us better than anyone I could ever imagine.” Tory slid a hand between them and unbuttoned Reese’s shirt. She parted the front, tugged Reese’s T-shirt out of her pants, and pushed it up. She kissed Reese’s chest in the valley between her breasts. “I love you. You’re the most amazing, beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
Reese leaned back and gripped the railing with both hands. The cool night air teased across her nipples and they hardened. Her thighs trembled at the unexpected softness of Tory’s mouth against her skin. “Tor. We’re outside on the deck.”
“It’s dark and I don’t care. You’re mine, and I’ll have you any way I want you, when I want you. And I want you right now.”
Reese laughed. “You’re not even pregnant yet. This is going to be fun.”
Tory looked up, her eyes glittering. “You better believe it.” She licked Reese’s nipple until Reese groaned, toying with the opposite one at the same time.
“Tory.” Reese’s hips jerked, and she felt herself swell inside her jeans. “You know what you’re d
oing to me, right?”
“Oh, I hope so.”
Tory caressed Reese’s belly and grasped the button on her jeans. “You didn’t answer my question about what was bothering you.”
“I don’t like statistics. They don’t mean anything when you’re dealing with one person. Hearing there’s a ninety percent chance you won’t have the same problem you had the last time doesn’t make me feel any better. Ten percent is way too high, Tor.”
“I know. I agree.” Tory rested her cheek on Reese’s breast. “What else did you hear that’s worrying you?”
“Women who have had preeclampsia are likely to have it a second time.”
“That’s true. But we’re lucky—I work with a superb doctor every day. Nita will be watching me like a hawk over here, and I’ll be seeing Wendy at least twice a month from the fourth month on. I promise.” Tory popped the button on Reese’s waistband and worked her way down to the next one. “And at the first sign of anything going wrong…” Tory dipped her fingers into Reese’s briefs and pushed down, stopping just over her clitoris.
Reese sucked in a hard breath. “You can’t promise—”
“Yes, I can. I know what I’m facing. I promise I won’t let anything happen to me during this pregnancy. I won’t put you through that again.”
Reese held on to the railing so hard she was afraid she’d crack the boards. Her knees were wobbling. She was going to drop any second. “I need you.”
Tory played her free hand up and down Reese’s hard abdomen, then gripped the waistband of her jeans and tugged. “I know. I need you too. Right now I need you to be all mine.”
“I’m always all yours.” Reese grasped Tory’s wrists before she lost all focus. “Let’s go inside. Time to get the little swimmers on their way.”