A Fallen Heart

by Cate Ashwood

  His limbic system had other ideas, and the thought of Nash, who Ford imagined was all tight muscles and smooth skin beneath the simple white T-shirt and jeans, holding a gun made his skin heat and his cheeks flush.

  The longer he sat there, the further into the distance the memories of the previous night faded. He would definitely be paying for the lack of sleep later, but if he were being honest, he was grateful not to be alone with his thoughts. There was always coffee and Red Bull to get him through his next shift.

  The waitress appeared a moment later to clear their plates and drop off the check. They each tossed a couple of small bills on the table before standing and walking back out onto the street.

  “Did you walk to work?” Nash asked as they strolled up Nelson, back toward the hospital.

  “Yeah. I don’t live far.”

  “I remember. Do you want a ride? You look like you’re about ready to collapse.”

  “Thanks, I’d appreciate that. I am dead on my feet.”

  “I hope you’re not working tomorrow.”

  “Night shift,” Ford confirmed.

  Nash winced. “You can’t get someone to fill in?”

  “Nope. We’re so short-staffed as it is, I’ll be lucky if we have enough people to cover even with me being there. Staffing called earlier and asked me to work a double. Normally I’d have said yes, but it’s been a very long night.”

  “I’m sorry I kept you out so late,” Nash said.

  “You can owe me one for yet another sleepless night….” Ford grappled for a way to recover his dignity when he realized what he’d said, but nothing sprang to mind.

  They’d reached the lot beside the ambulance station where Nash’s Highlander was parked, and Ford was so relieved Nash hadn’t called him out. Instead Nash clicked the button on his keyless entry and the wall behind the vehicle illuminated with the flash of the taillights.

  After climbing in, Ford got comfortable in the oversized SUV. He could almost fall asleep where he sat. The leather seats were so comfortable.

  “This is an awfully big vehicle. Either you’re compensating for something or you’ve got a secret gaggle of kids I don’t know about,” he said when Nash was sitting next to him.

  He chuckled. “Nope. Neither. I bought it, thinking I’d do all kinds of outdoorsy stuff. I wanted to hike and snowboard and kayak.”

  “Kayak? Really?”

  “Yeah. It looks like fun.”

  “Sure, sure. Suctioned into a tippy-ass boat, floating in the middle of the frigid ocean. That sounds like a blast.”

  “I thought it did. Unfortunately, most days off are spent sleeping, wasting time until my next block of shifts starts. One day I’ll summon the motivation to take advantage of living here. It’s nearly winter. Maybe I’ll get around to snowboarding this year.”

  “I still don’t understand the desire to voluntarily spend time outside. Humans learned to construct buildings for a reason. Strapping your feet to a board and hurling yourself down a mountain sounds like a good way to get hypothermia and lose a testicle.”

  “I don’t think hypothermia of the testicles is all that common.”

  “You never know,” Ford said. “I’m not willing to take any chances. That’s why I spend my days off meeting Sam for boozy brunches and parking my ass in front of my TV with popcorn that has more butter than actual popcorn to go along with a marathon of shows about sweaty guys in kilts, or whatever those things they used to wear in ancient Rome were.”

  “You have a thing for guys in skirts, huh?”

  Ford paused, pretending to contemplate the question. “I never realized it, but I guess it is kinda hot, all that easy access.”

  “You know, uniform pants provide pretty easy access. Just sayin’.”

  “Uh-huh,” Ford agreed sarcastically.

  Nash pulled up in front of Ford’s apartment building a moment later. Lifting his gaze to the second-floor window, Ford could see his neighbor wandering around in his living room.

  “What made you decide on the Army?” Ford didn’t know why he asked. Well, he was curious, but Nash was parked in front of his building and Ford couldn’t bring himself to say good-bye. His whole body ached from exhaustion, and it took effort to force his eyes open again every time he blinked. His head felt cloudy, his thoughts sluggish, but instead of getting out of the car and climbing the stairs up to his bed, he sat, waiting for Nash to formulate his answer, studying the way his hazel eyes changed as he thought.

  “It’s been over a decade since I signed up, and I still don’t exactly know. I spent a lot of time trying to make heads or tails of my impulse. I felt a duty to my country, to serve, even for a short time. I knew it was something I had to do. It broke my mom’s heart. She was absolutely devastated. My dad, on the other hand, I think he was over the moon, but he never said so out of respect for my mom. They were both proud of me, but my mom was terrified I’d never come back.”

  “You were deployed?”

  “Twice. Kandahar both times.”

  “I bet your mom was happy you came back in one piece.”

  “First thing she did when I stepped off the plane after the first deployment was smack me. She told me never to scare her like that again. Of course, when I had to go back she was livid.”

  “You’re close with your family?”

  “Yeah.” Nash nodded. “Family’s important. How about you?”

  “Average, I guess.”

  “You have siblings?”

  “One brother. Younger. He lives out east. I don’t get to see him much.”

  “Were you close growing up?”

  “There’s six years between us, so most days I alternated between being overly protective and completely annoyed. He looked up to me, wanted to be exactly like me, and wanted to hang out with all my friends. I liked being his hero, but I liked it less when he wanted to tag along with me absolutely everywhere. Especially when I started to notice guys.”

  “I can see how having a kid around might cramp your style.”

  “Oh, it did. The first time I worked up enough courage to ask Gabe Rivera over to my house to watch a movie, Aaron plunked himself down right between us on the couch. When I tried to get him to move, Gabe told me I shouldn’t be such a dick to him.”

  “Cockblocked by your own brother. Harsh.”

  Ford laughed. “Yeah. He ended up saving me from embarrassment in the long run over that one, though. I saw it as a date. Never occurred to me that Gabe wasn’t into guys. I might have been a bit self-centered back then.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Fifteen.”

  “And that’s the first guy you noticed?”

  “Oh God, no. I was in love with a different guy every weekend. Actually, not sure that habit ever really stopped.”

  “So what you’re telling me is that if I happen to catch you on the right weekend, I might have a shot?”

  Nash grinned, and Ford’s stomach did this annoying flip at the sight of it. He should go home.

  “How old were you when you came out?” Nash asked when Ford didn’t answer.

  “I never did.”

  “You’re not still—”

  “Closeted? No. I mean I put on stage shows in my basement, including choreographing song-and-dance numbers to the Mini Pops, complete with costumes and special effects lighting when I was six. My parents had a pretty good idea that I wasn’t like the other boys before I’d figured it out for myself.”

  “I can imagine you shaking your hips and high kicking. Please tell me your family has video.”

  “More hours than you’d ever want to see.”

  “Don’t be so sure about that,” Nash teased.

  Ford smiled, feeling suddenly warmer than he had been in hours. He had the sudden urge to ask Nash to come up to his place, Ford’s mind dipping into all the ways Nash could make him forget about what a horrible night it’d been.

  And that terrified the shit out of him.

  “I should probably ge
t going. You need to get to bed too,” Ford said finally.

  “I’m good. I’m off for the next twelve days. Our crew’s next block was canceled.”

  The reason why was left unsaid.

  “Maybe we could do something fun on your days off.”

  The hopeful look in Nash’s eyes almost killed him.

  “Like a date?”

  “I meant more like a group thing.”

  “Oh, maybe kayaking, then.”

  He was fully aware that Nash was baiting him. He didn’t bite. “I was thinking more along the lines of going back to Albert’s for milkshakes and, if you’re feeling brave, Uncle Vito’s challenge.”

  Ford had seen the “wall of shame/fame” the first time he’d been in there. Albert’s was definitely not the first restaurant to host an eating challenge, but it was the first one Ford had seen in real life. The meal was a six-patty burger, with six slices of cheese and twelve slices of bacon, topped with pulled pork. Rather than a bun, the burger was housed between two grilled cheese sandwiches and came with a side of mac ’n’ cheese and a twenty-six-ounce milkshake. If you finished it in twenty minutes or less, it was free and you got your picture on the wall of fame. If not, you ended up on the wall of shame.

  “Pretty sure Caleb and Rob would both annihilate that challenge.”

  “Probably,” Ford agreed. Caleb was a massive man and able to put away more food than anyone, while Rob had a habit of eating foods that probably wouldn’t have a chance at passing muster with the FDA.

  “Call me, then, and we’ll set something up,” Nash said.

  Once more, the unwelcome urge to ask Nash to stay with him almost grabbed hold. It took every ounce of willpower he had to keep those thoughts to himself. Instead Ford programmed Nash’s number into his phone before he opened the door and stepped out onto the street. He leaned back in to see Nash looking at him, all warm eyes and easy smile.

  “I will. I’m on nights for the next two, and then I should have two days off before the next rotation starts.”

  “Plenty of time to get into all sorts of trouble.”

  “Hey, Nash?” Ford asked, hating the hitch in his voice as he said his name.

  “Yeah?”

  “Thank you. For everything.” It seemed almost too dramatic, but he was more grateful than he could have expressed. When he’d left work, he’d been on course to head home and wallow in misery, but breakfast out and talking about nothing had distracted him and kept him from becoming too maudlin. It was nice.

  “You are very welcome,” Nash replied.

  Ford gave him a little wave as he drove away, then headed upstairs to find his bed.

  Chapter Eight

  “FORD!” MADDY’S happy cry echoed in the quiet room as Ford pushed open the second card-secured door and stepped into Saint Joe’s emergency psych unit.

  “Heya, gorgeous,” Ford replied, letting the surprise show on his face and rounding the desk to wrap his arms around her in a tight hug. They’d met their first day in nursing school, thrown together for group introductions. Her tiny stature seemed too small to contain all that bubbly personality. The fact that she was working in the psych unit was surprising. He’d seen her more as the pediatric or maternity type, but he supposed in a place where a good number of the people wanted to end their lives, a little brightness was what the world needed.

  “Why didn’t I know you were working here?” Ford asked, stepping back to look at her. They’d been close through school, but being hired at different hospitals in different cities meant they’d drifted, geography more to blame than anything else.

  “It’s my first week,” she said. “I just transferred in from the ICU at Eagle Ridge.”

  “Their loss,” Ford said conspiratorially. “How are you liking it here so far?”

  “The clientele is a little different, but overall it’s not too much of a change. All the staff has been incredibly nice.”

  “The Saint Joe’s family is pretty tight. I’m so happy you’re here. It’s been way too long since we hung out.”

  “It has,” she agreed. “I’m assuming you weren’t popping by to say hello. Is there something I can help you with?”

  “I was wondering if the kid is still here… Joel? He was brought in last night. He came into the ER and transferred here before the end of my shift. I wasn’t sure if they’d transferred him out yet.”

  “I just got here, so I’m not sure. I’ll ask. Helen’s been here all night. Hey, Helen,” she called to a woman who was deeply entrenched in whatever she was doing on the computer in the office adjacent to the main room.

  Helen strolled into the nurses’ station, her pale purple scrub pants swishing as she walked. “What’s up?”

  “Did we get a kid in last night?” Maddy asked.

  “Name?” Helen scanned the binders set up in a row on the shelf behind them, hospital labels stuck to the spines.

  “I only have a first name. Joel. When they brought him through the ER, he wouldn’t say much. He was brought here to detox.”

  “Ah yes. He’s in room two,” Helen said, pulling his chart and opening it up. “Looks like he’s through the worst of it. Judging from the timeline, he’d started into withdrawals sometime before he arrived. The acute symptoms had already started by the time he was brought here.”

  Ford bit his lip. The memory of Joel succumbing to the physical ramifications of his addiction was seared into his mind.

  “You want to see him?”

  “Yeah, if I could. I wanted to check on him. He seemed pretty scared last night.”

  “No problem. If more nurses cared as much about their patients as you do, the hospital would be a much healthier place.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Ford said. It came from a place of honesty, not modesty. Most patients didn’t hit him the way this kid had. Lately the constant stream of familiar faces through the ER had him feeling frustrated. The first time he’d saved a junkie’s life, only to have him pushed back through the same doors the following night, had been a slap in the face. Now it was maddening. There were only so many times he could be told to fuck off or screamed at for trying to help before it began to wear him down.

  Maybe it was because Joel looked so much like Aaron had when he was a kid, or maybe it was his age, but whatever it was, Ford felt like this was a different situation. Making sure he was all right was important to Ford.

  He thanked Helen and Maddy again and stepped past them to the hallway of doors that branched off the main room. Room two was on the left, just past the locked supply room. The door was solid and shut, but there was a window at eye level, which allowed Ford to see through to the sleeping form inside.

  Joel was curled up on the cot, blankets tucked tightly around him. Even from the doorway, Ford could tell his color was more pink now than gray. He was clean and resting peacefully. The stark look of terror was missing from his face, and Ford felt a swell of relief that he seemed to be doing better.

  He backed away and returned to the nurses’ station.

  “He’s sleeping,” Ford said.

  Helen looked up from her computer screen. “He’s been sleeping most of the day. He woke up for a few minutes to have some toast but was out like a light soon after. I thought for certain he would have been awake by now. The police stopped by earlier and have been calling every few hours since. They want to talk to him, but he still hasn’t said anything. Diana came to visit him, but she couldn’t get him talking either.”

  Ford wasn’t surprised. He hoped Joel felt comfortable enough to talk sooner rather than later, and not only to help the cops with their investigation. Joel desperately needed psychological help to work through what he’d experienced. Without speech it would be more difficult to help him.

  “If it’s okay, I’ll try back later,” Ford said.

  “Definitely. I’ll be here all night.”

  “AH, JOSEPH. Just the man I was looking for,” Hugh Greene, administrator and general pain in Ford’s ass, said as Fo
rd walked toward the ER.

  “Hello, Mr. Greene,” Ford said, the faux politeness dripping from his words.

  When Ford’s alarm went off at 4:00 p.m., he’d forced himself out of bed and thrown himself into the coldest shower he could handle in the hopes that he would be somewhat conscious by the time he made it to Saint Joe’s. He hadn’t been as successful as he would have liked, and an ambush by Greene was exactly what he needed to start his day off right.

  “I wanted to have a word with you about our quarterly budget.”

  “I don’t run the ER, Mr. Greene. I only work there. If you want to talk numbers, you’re going to need to discuss them with Susan.”

  “Well, yes, of course. I have. But in the last month, we’ve been auditing resource usage in your department—”

  “Susan’s department,” Ford reminded him.

  “Yes. Susan’s department. In any case, we’ve applied several algorithms to determine where the hemorrhages are taking place.”

  Ford glanced at the clock. There were fewer than five minutes until his shift started.

  “Mr. Greene, if you have something you need to say, I would appreciate you saying it quickly. I have charts to review.”

  “Oh, yes. Right. Joseph, we’ve discovered that you’re using more resources than anyone else in your department.”

  “And?” Ford asked petulantly. He knew he sounded rude, but frankly, office people like Greene had no idea what life was like on the front lines in a hospital. Ford was exceptionally good at his job, and never had he squandered what meager resources were provided to him. It was difficult enough as it was to save lives with Greene cutting as many corners as he did.

  “And I’d like to meet with you to discuss how to better streamline your use of hospital supplies.”

  Ford bit his tongue before he told Greene exactly what to do with his hospital supplies. He had a pair of forceps sitting in a cabinet he thought he could get pretty creative with.

  “According to the audit, am I wasting resources? Mismanaging them? Am I taking supplies home for personal use?”

  “Well, no, but—”

  “Then if you’ll excuse me, I have patients who need me.”