Harlequin Heartwarming April 2018 Box Set

by Amy Vastine

  Flynn pulled his SUV to the front of the hospital to drop her off just as her phone signaled again.

  “Ally? It’s Carla again, from dispatch. We’ve received word that the helicopter can’t fly through the storm. It’s too dangerous. We’ve got an airplane pilot ready to try. Are you still willing to go under these conditions?” It was the weekend, and Ally knew that most of the paramedics and the nurses trained in air transport were probably still at Tag’s rally. Along with Tag.

  “Yes! I’ll go. I’m ready.” She’d agree to fly to Mars right now if it meant getting out of here for a while.

  “How soon can you get to the hangar out at Copper Crossing airfield?”

  She relayed the information to Flynn, who was nodding that he could take her. He pulled away from the curb before she even had a chance to respond.

  “I’m at the hospital, already in a vehicle, so as long as that takes.”

  Ally knew that small planes could more easily fly through inclement weather. Under the circumstances, it didn’t surprise her to learn that Tag was allowing another pilot to use one of his planes. She’d met his friend Cricket Blackburn and hoped it was him.

  Flynn turned the vehicle onto the drive leading to the hangar where the plane was waiting. Ally recognized Milt, one of Tag’s employees, when she hopped out.

  “Oh, Ally, hi. I wasn’t sure who was coming. Carla didn’t say. The plane is ready, and Tag is already onboard.”

  Tag? Ally’s stomach did a flip. A part of her wanted to back out, send Flynn in her place. But she knew he was needed here. And she had experience with bad weather. She thanked Milt, hugged Flynn and ran toward the plane.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  IN THE ARMY, Ally had once flown through the ruins of a Syrian village in the immediate aftermath of a bombing, the smoke like a mass of viscous liquid creeping around the plane in a cloud so thick she couldn’t tell which way was up. This fog reminded her of that day. The bone-jarring turbulence assured her that it was Alaska.

  Tag was calm, completely confident at the controls as he maneuvered through one of the worst storms Ally had ever encountered. He would have made an excellent combat pilot.

  Despite their meaning, Ally was relieved when Tag’s words came through her headset. “This is going to be a rough landing. Hang on, okay?”

  Ally knew he didn’t really expect her to answer, so she just braced herself. The plane touched down and bumped hard along the runway. She was grateful for her restraints when they finally slowed, then skidded and lurched to a stop.

  Tag muttered under his breath before looking her way. “You okay?”

  Trying not to let the concern in his expression get to her, she mumbled a “Fine” and scrambled to unbuckle her seat belt.

  They exited the aircraft. Tag walked around the plane as an SUV pulled close. Ally and Tag gathered their gear and climbed in, and the men introduced themselves to Tag. Ally already knew the local law enforcement officers, Dale Sandy and Max Courtright. Dale was medium height, heavily muscled with black curls fringing the edges of his knit cap. Max had close-cropped red hair and was nearly as tall as Tag but looked to be a good twenty pounds lighter.

  Dale drove while Max updated them on the status of the patients injured in an ATV accident. Emergency responders had moved them to the pastor’s home nearby, which served as a makeshift emergency medical clinic for the area.

  “Thankfully, we were able to get to them fairly easily. For the life of me, I can’t understand what they were thinking going out riding in this storm. If the girl hadn’t been conscious, we never would have found them…”

  Max went on to tell them that the young woman had used her cell phone to call for help and was able to guide them to the scene.

  “It was probably a blessing that the kid was unconscious. That compound fracture to his leg is real bad. We’re awful grateful you guys could fly in. This storm isn’t supposed to let up any time soon, and the reports say there’s another one following on its heels. We need to get him to a hospital ASAP.”

  That’s when Tag spoke up. “Unfortunately, we’re not going to be able to fly out of here today, not in my plane.”

  Ally gave him a sharp look.

  “What’s that?” Dale didn’t sound happy.

  “I’ve got some faulty landing gear. I can’t take the chance in this weather of taking off and landing again. I’m going to have to ask you guys to call around and see if anyone has a part for me.” Tag went on to explain what he needed.

  Dale asked, “What are we going to do about the patient? How are we going to get him out of here?”

  Ally stared at Tag, her stomach cramping with fear. He hadn’t said a word about it, but that explained the rough landing. No point in thinking about what could have happened. They were safe now. A rush of appreciation flowed through her for his experience and excellent piloting skills.

  Dale steered the vehicle onto a side road, and they skidded slowly through the snow-covered turn. Ally held on, reminded of the more immediate problem. How were they going to get the patient out of here?

  Dale stopped the SUV in front of a modest home at the end of the drive. The accumulation of snow had already obscured the path and softened the edges of the footprints dotted around.

  Inside, she was relieved to find that the more severely injured patient, Zeke Laughlin, was conscious even though he was experiencing intense pain. She discovered his pupils were not dilated, so she ruled out brain trauma.

  His girlfriend, Bonnie, informed them that they’d both been wearing helmets, and that the young couple had been on their way to deliver medication to her grandmother, not on a joy ride as had been reported. Ally was sure the helmets had saved their lives. Beyond some bruising and a twisted ankle, Bonnie appeared to be in good condition.

  The first responders had done a fine job moving and stabilizing Zeke. His leg was the obvious problem, but there was something else troubling her. There was no way to know for sure unless they could get him to a hospital or… Ally had just finished checking his vitals again when Max poked his head into the room.

  “Tag, no luck getting my hands on that part yet. Brandon Smith has one in Smiranov but I realize that doesn’t do you any good right now.”

  Tag exhaled a deep breath. “Thanks for trying, Max.”

  “I’m not giving up. I’ll keep calling, and there are a couple of places I’m waiting to hear back from yet.”

  Ally watched him go and then looked at Tag. “Can you step into the kitchen with me? I have an idea.”

  Nodding, he moved in that direction and Ally followed.

  “My grandpa can do this surgery.”

  “Can he get here?”

  “I’ll call him, but I think we should transfer Zeke there. He’s got the facilities and a nurse. By tomorrow morning we’re going to be snowed in, and if the forecast is accurate, another front will be moving in right about the time this one lets up. Even if you get the part for the plane by morning, which I doubt, and we get shoveled out, will you have time to install it before the weather starts up again? That kid is lying in there in agony and…” Ally held back the rest of what she suspected.

  “But transporting him in these conditions won’t be easy, either. The roads are a mess and getting worse by the second.”

  Ally had seen her grandfather resort to the simplest solution too many times not to consider it now. “But the river’s not. If we get him upriver as far as Clifton, it’s a straight shot to my village across a good road. It won’t be comfortable, but he’s not comfortable now. We can be there in two hours, maybe less.”

  Tag nodded and gave her a tense smile. “I would ask where we are going to get a boat, but I’m guessing you have an answer for that, too.”

  She smiled, relieved that he’d already opened his mind enough to consider this a viable plan.

  * * *

>   IF TAG HAD had any lingering doubts about Ally’s medical proficiency, they would be gone now. She prepared the patient and supervised his transport, firmly but gently giving orders until they’d loaded him into the boat.

  They thanked Dale and Max, and the men promised to keep Tag informed about the search for the plane part. The owner of the boat was a young man of Native descent with an intense gaze and eyes so brown Tag could barely distinguish the black of his pupils.

  “Tag, this is my friend Coda. Coda, this is Tag. Coda and I go way back.”

  Coda gave him a quick “Hey” and a nod before narrowing his focus onto the boat’s controls. Expertly, he maneuvered the vessel away from the shore and into the current. Snow was dumping so hard the river couldn’t swallow it fast enough. It looked like the surface had been frosted and then dusted with powdered sugar. In this weather, Tag knew that navigating the waterway would be accomplished as much by habit as sight.

  Ally remained huddled by the patient, monitoring his condition and holding his hand. Tag was already feeling she’d made the right decision. The trip was much smoother than it would have been by road, and within the hour Coda was informing them that they were nearing the marina in Clifton. Even faster than Ally had predicted.

  The snow had let up a bit, and Tag could see that an SUV waited nearby. As they approached, two men emerged from the vehicle and Tag recognized Abe Mowak, Ally’s grandfather, from the newspaper photo. He looked at least a decade younger than he was and Tag wondered how often people assumed that he was Ally’s dad.

  The other man was younger, short but wiry, with a cheerful smile and longish blond hair visible under a red knit cap. He introduced himself as Dave and helped Tag load Zeke into the vehicle. Ally gave Coda a quick hug and a thank-you. Tag shook his hand and added his appreciation. Abe climbed behind the wheel of the SUV. Tag joined Ally in the back and Dave climbed into the passenger seat.

  Abe drove while Ally recited the details of Zeke’s condition. Tag listened, silently agreeing, until she said, “I’m worried about his liver. I’m afraid he might have a small laceration.”

  Tag swung his head to look at her. She stared straight ahead, and Tag felt the dismissal like a punch to the gut. The expression reminded him of the Ally he’d first met, the closed-off, distrustful Ally. But how could he blame her for that now? He’d given her every reason to behave this way.

  “Hmm. Blood work and the scan will let us know,” Abe said. “Got our work cut out for us. Good thinking, calling Coda with the boat.”

  The next leg of the trip went as smoothly as the last, and soon the patient was housed inside Abe’s clinic.

  Ally had disappeared, so Tag took a seat in the waiting room. Bright watercolor paintings adorned the pale gray walls, and sturdy handcrafted furniture sat before a stone fireplace. A fire crackled on the hearth. The far corner of the room featured a kid-sized table and chairs. Neatly arranged books filled a bookcase, and a wooden toy chest overflowed. It felt more like a home than a medical clinic, although Tag had learned it wasn’t far from that. The facility was right next door to Abe’s residence, the two buildings linked by an enclosed breezeway.

  Ally stepped through the doorway and exhaled a sharp breath. “Liver has a small laceration. They’re doing surgery now. Do you want to come with me? I’ll show you around so you can get settled in for the night.”

  Tag stood and followed her through a door and into the hall leading to the house. At the end of the passage, she opened a door and motioned him into an entryway. A few more steps and they were inside a cozy living room sporting floors of knotty pine. Oversize comfortable-looking furniture in neutral tones sat atop braided rugs in muted colors. Antiques and rustic decor filled the space, and as they headed past the stone fireplace, Tag noted an array of framed photos on the mantel. A smiling Ally featured prominently in most of the images, and Tag’s chest went tight. It felt like days since he’d seen her smile.

  Continuing through to another hallway, she pointed out the bathroom, passed a closed door that she identified as her room and then walked through the next doorway. Tag joined her inside.

  “We keep this guest room ready, so sheets are clean. There’s a spare toothbrush on the sink in the bathroom. I put some clothes on the chair there, in case. If you need anything else just let me know.”

  Tag lowered his pack to the floor and gestured at it. “Thanks, but I have an emergency bundle in here—toothbrush, T-shirt, socks, underwear.”

  Giving him a curt nod, she walked out the door and pointed down the hall. “The kitchen is that way. I left a sandwich on the table for you.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were worried about Zeke’s liver?”

  “It was more of a feeling.” She shrugged. “I didn’t have any real proof beyond the pain in his abdomen.”

  “So, how did you know?”

  One brow quirked up. “Not in any way that you’d approve of.”

  “Ally.” Her name came out with an exhaled breath of frustration. “I’m…sorry. I’m sorry things have reached this point between us.”

  Was he imagining the yearning in her eyes? She was so adept at hiding every emotion; he wondered if he was wishing it there now. He knew he wasn’t when the whisper-soft “Me, too” passed her lips. It was all he could do not to step toward her and take her in his arms.

  “I want to explain about Kendall, but it’s this thing with Shay that still has me in knots. I can’t concede my anger and my disappointment—”

  She interrupted with a gentle “I know, and I understand. About Shay, I mean. But I can’t be anyone other than who I am, either. I won’t change for you, Tag. I won’t change for anyone. I believe how I believe, and you believe how you do and I’m beginning to think that the two can’t meet in the middle. I will always do what I feel is right for a patient, no matter the consequences.”

  With a tired sigh, he scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “I’m terrified that attitude is going to get you into real trouble one day. And when it does, I’m afraid there won’t be anything I can do to stop it.”

  “I’m not asking you to. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t.”

  Frustration coiled so fast and so tightly inside him, he couldn’t contain it. “But I want to! Can’t you see that I…” He wanted to say it, but telling her that he loved her would only make things worse at this point. Neither of them was willing to give where this issue was concerned. And they hadn’t even addressed what had happened with Kendall yet.

  “Tag, I’ve learned that my notion of trouble and yours are different. For me, it’s worth it to give up something, even something very important to me, if it allows me to be who I am.”

  And there it was. He recoiled like he’d been slapped because it was clear to him that “something” was him. Still, the pain of hearing the words aloud cut hard and deep.

  “Will you at least let me explain about Kendall?”

  “I see your relationship with Kendall as a similar issue. You see it as something you have to do. It’s something you’re not willing to give up in order to be who you need to be—who you think you need to be. Right?”

  A double punch. Right to the gut. “Ally, I…” What could he say? She was right on one level, but what choice did he have? “It’s complicated.”

  She responded with a single firm nod, as if it was the answer she’d been expecting. “I need to check how things are going with the patient and then I’m off to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.” And with those final words, she walked away.

  * * *

  “ALLY, YOU WANT to check out my new baseball card?” Dave asked her the next morning.

  “Sure, Dave,” she said.

  Tag watched Ally smile at the young doctor and felt his insides twist. That smile should be for him. Baseball card? How old was this guy, twelve?

  Tag had awoken, if one could awaken from hours of blanket ki
cking and ceiling staring, and found his way to the kitchen. Coffee was in the pot, so he’d helped himself. Ally had joined him a few minutes later, and he’d barely had time to say good morning before Dave sauntered in, casting longing glances Ally’s direction. It was obvious the guy had it bad for her. With his floppy blond hair and easy smile, Tag thought he looked like he belonged in a tweeny band instead of a remote medical clinic in the wilds of Alaska.

  Tag itched with the desire to make it clear to Dr. Boy Band that Ally was off-limits. But that was the problem; she wasn’t off-limits, was she? A funnel cloud of disappointment, frustration and jealousy whipped him up and out of his seat. The chair made a screeching sound on the hard tile floor and nearly toppled. He mumbled an “Oops” and stepped toward the coffeepot like he’d been headed there all along.

  Dave went on, “Yeah, major score on eBay. It’s a rookie card. Mint. Take a walk next door with me, and I’ll show you.”

  Tag wanted to ask Dave to take a walk out into the foot of snow that had fallen overnight and then bolt the door behind him. He watched them disappear and had to admit they made a striking couple, not to mention they’d probably never disagree over medical practices. Dave would probably never disagree with her, period. Kneading the pain in the back of his neck, he realized Abe had walked into the kitchen and was watching him. No mistaking the curiosity stamped all over the man’s face.

  Hoping his smile didn’t look as forced as it felt, Tag asked, “Anything I can help you with around here? If you’ve got a shovel, I can get started on that mess of snow outside.” Anything would be better than watching the woman he loved frolicking around with a charming and engaging guy, younger than him and completely suitable for her.

  * * *

  THE SIGHT OF Tag outside shoveling snow off the drive made Ally irritable. Helping. Always helping. Seeing to everyone else’s needs rather than his, or hers—or theirs, now that she thought about it. She felt like marching out there and demanding that he explain himself. Last night, she’d opened the door for him to clarify his onstage display with Kendall and he’d just stared back at her looking all wounded and confused.