Lightning Strikes

by Mary Lynn Baxter

  “Let us pray.” His sarcasm was thick.

  “I can’t believe this is happening. Why me?”

  “I thought it was Randi we were concerned about.” Noah couldn’t resist saying that, though he knew it would have the effect of tossing a match in a can of gasoline. He was right.

  “Of course I’m concerned!” Melissa exploded. “But it’s not easy for me. Why, our family’s the talk of the town.”

  “No, we’re not. The weather is.”

  Melissa stood. “This is headed nowhere. I’m going home.”

  Without warning, Noah reached out and put his arm around her shoulders. For a moment, she resisted, then sagged against him. “I’m sorry for all the pain and worry you’re going through,” he said. “But things are going to work out. Randi’s going to be all right. I’m convinced of that.”

  Melissa pulled back and gave him a watery smile. “You’re a good man and a good son, despite—”

  “I know, Mother. I know. Not a day doesn’t go by that I don’t wish I could change the past.”

  “I’ll talk to you later.” This time she kissed him on the cheek.”

  “Be careful going home. Or better yet, maybe I should have someone drive you.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. How do you think I got here to begin with?”

  “Right.”

  “Anyway, since the rain’s let up, the roads aren’t quite so treacherous.”

  “Well, be careful and try to call when you get home so I’ll know you’re all right.”

  Melissa walked to the door, then turned. “I really do hope that you’ll leave Amanda alone. That other woman certainly wasn’t right for you, but neither is she.”

  So much for getting through to his mother, Noah thought. Hell, he’d never understood why she didn’t like Amanda. They were both cut from the same bolt of cloth—too pigheaded for their own good.

  No. He refused to dwell on that part of his life. Suddenly he had the desire to get the hell out of this place, go to the nearest bar and get stinking drunk.

  Instead, he headed back to the OR.

  *

  Amanda hugged the commode. Of all times for her to be sick. Nerves. That was what it was. It had to be. She hadn’t eaten anything that could’ve made her sick. Maybe that was it. She needed to eat.

  What she also needed was sleep. But she wasn’t going to get that, even though her boss had showed up and sent her to her office to get some rest. Some rest, she thought, forcing herself off the floor to the sink, where she rinsed her face in cold water, then brushed her teeth.

  Immediately, she felt better. Maybe it wasn’t nerves, but rather a virus bug. Nah, she knew better. It was nerves, all right. And Noah Howell was to blame. However, she didn’t intend to dwell on him. She had to get back to the ER as her smart phone was ringing continuously.

  God, she looked awful, Amanda thought, wincing at her reflection in the mirror. She couldn’t keep going on like this. More than that, she had to stop thinking about Noah.

  But how did she stop the ache inside her, the wetness between her legs every time he came near?

  Another text.

  Dr. Jennings, to the emergency room.

  “Shut up. I’m coming.”

  Her hand was on the door when her phone rang again. Ordinarily, she wouldn’t have answered it, but this time she did. It was Gordon.

  “Hey, what’s up?” he said.

  “What do you think? Blood and guts.”

  A stunned silence followed her clipped statement. “Amanda, are you all right?”

  “No, Gordon, I’m not. In fact, I’m quietly having a nervous breakdown.”

  Another silence. “I fail to see the humor in that.”

  “Believe me, I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

  “That’s all the more reason why you ought to leave that place. It’s killing you.”

  “It’s the weather and the blackout. It’s making everyone squirrelly.”

  “I’m not worrying about everyone, only you.”

  “That’s nice, Gordon, but I really have to go.”

  He lowered his voice. “Have you thought any more about my proposal?”

  “That’s the last thing I’ve thought about.” The instant she said those words, she wished she could recall them, but it was too late. The damage was done.

  She heard his sharp intake of breath and knew she’d have her hands full making amends.

  “It’s that doctor.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. It’s Howell. He’s got you messed up. I just knew that—”

  She cut him off. “Now’s not the time to discuss this, Gordon. I’m sorry if you’re upset. I’ll talk to you later. I really have to go.”

  Another text message.

  “What’s that sound?”

  “My phone. ER calling.”

  “Promise you’ll call me later.”

  “I’ll try,” she said, her patience running out. At this moment, she didn’t know who she’d rather throttle more—Gordon or Noah. Well, maybe on second thought, she did.

  Noah.

  “I love you, Amanda.”

  “Don’t do this to me, not now, please.”

  With that, she hung up the phone and dashed out the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Please, Doctor, help me.”

  Noah patted the eighty-year-old lady on the arm, then smiled. “We are. In fact, the nurse is getting you something for pain right now.”

  “You got to make those bugs go away.”

  Noah’s heart wrenched. She was an Alzheimer’s patient who had been brought in from one of the nursing homes, and he had just operated on her. She’d fallen and broken her hip. She had come through ER, then up to him.

  Although the surgery had gone well, the pain would linger for some time, especially as this woman also had osteoporosis. The two maladies combined added insult to injury.

  “The bugs will be taken care of,” Noah said in his most reassuring voice.

  She grabbed his hand, her milky-looking eyes wild. “You promise?”

  “You betcha, I promise.”

  He stepped aside while the nurse gave her a shot in the good hip, then moved back to the bed.

  “Where…where am I?” she asked, her gaze roaming the room, then coming back to Noah.

  “You’re in Vanderbilt Memorial, Mrs. Jones.”

  “I am? I don’t like it here.” Her words were slurred. “I want to go home.”

  Noah squeezed the clawlike hand still clutching his. “I know you do. And you will. Right now, though, I want you to close your eyes and rest.”

  Without arguing, Mrs. Jones did just that. Noah didn’t leave her bedside until she was breathing evenly. Out in the hall, he turned to the nurse who had followed him. “Keep an extra-close eye on her, and let me know if there’s the slightest change.”

  “Yes, sir. Will her family be coming to see about her?”

  Noah scowled. “According to the nursing home, her daughter dumped her and hasn’t been back to see her since, which has been months ago.”

  “That’s horrible.”

  “That’s life,” Noah said flatly, then turned and walked down the hall, forcing one foot in front of the other. He didn’t want to go back to his office or to OR.

  He was just too damn tired to function.

  He had hoped Riley would do the surgery on the old lady, but he’d left the hospital, which hadn’t surprised Noah. But then, Riley wasn’t on call, he reminded himself, so it was Riley’s prerogative to leave. A smirk altered Noah’s lips.

  First thing after the lights came back on, Riley would probably go see his attorney and slap a lawsuit on Noah for what he called job harassment. So be it. He’d have to get in line behind Noah’s mother and Amanda to exact his pound of flesh.

  Noah didn’t give a damn about Riley, what he did or didn’t do. The man could slap a dozen lawsuits on him. And his mother, while not exactly happy with him now, would soon get over her sn
it when Randi showed back up.

  Amanda—well, he couldn’t make that call. He had walked out on her once, destroyed her trust, and now that he was finally able and willing to make amends, she was hell-bent on throwing his good intentions back in his face.

  So, was she worth fighting for? Did he want her enough to go through the arduous and humiliating paces she seemed determined to put him through, without any guarantees that he would succeed in mending her broken heart?

  She was definitely in vendetta mode. Yet he knew she was still attracted to him. Was that enough to overcome the hidden pain, allow them to start afresh? An even bigger question was, could she ever really forgive him? Some scars were so deep they never healed, but simply crusted over with time. Had he inflicted such a wound that forgiveness was indeed impossible?

  He had no answers for those tough questions, only she could do that. But whether she forgave him or not, he was going to have his say. If the truth was too little, too late, then he’d have to accept that. He had put his own future in the fire and had no one to blame but himself.

  Here’s to you, bub, and your mess-ups.

  Shaking off those crippling thoughts, Noah walked into his office, only to find no solace. He was as restless as ever, especially when he looked at his desk and saw the paperwork piled mountain-high.

  Work. Sure thing.

  He sat down at his desk and closed his eyes. Instantly, he groaned as a picture of Amanda flashed before his eyes. Amanda in bed, naked, waiting for him to join her, like he’d done so many times after having come back from a call to the hospital.

  He could recall her moans when he would tongue her ear, then nuzzle her neck. He’d roll her over to face him, while she lifted her leg over his hip, giving him just the right amount of room to ease inside her.

  With his lips hot on hers, they rocked in perfect sync until an explosion ripped through them both.

  Afterward, she’d open her eyes and smile. “Mmm, I needed that.”

  “And I needed you.”

  Dammit, that hadn’t changed. He still needed her, now more than ever. He looked down at the hardening in his groin.

  After letting a few expletives fly, Noah stomped toward the bathroom, a cold shower in mind. Suddenly he heard a knock on his door. He didn’t bother to turn around before barking, “It’s open.”

  Only after he heard the door open and no one said anything did he turn around. His eyes landed on the face of Gordon Bishop.

  Great.

  “Did I catch you at a bad time?” Bishop asked.

  Noah could tell by his tone that he didn’t give a damn if he had or not. Ah, so he’d upset someone else. If lover-boy wanted to take his potshot, then he’d have to get at the back of the line; only it appeared he had other ideas. He intended to cut in line.

  Fine. The way Noah felt at this moment, he relished the confrontation. He felt as if he could take on a bear in a cage with his bare hands and whip him.

  “What’s up, Bishop?” If anything, Noah’s voice had a bored edge to it.

  “Let’s cut the platitudes, Doctor, shall we?”

  Shall we? What the hell kind of talk was that? Noah asked himself, wanting to laugh.

  “No problem. This is your party.”

  Gordon stared at him through hostile eyes. “I don’t like you, Dr. Howell.”

  “And you think I care?”

  Bishop paled, making his mustache stand out more than ever. It looked like a tiny wig attached to his lips. Noah wanted to laugh, only suddenly Bishop ceased to be amusing. He didn’t have time for a bull session. He wanted him out of his face and out of his office.

  “I don’t know what happened between you and Amanda—” Gordon was saying.

  “Maybe that’s because it’s none of your business.”

  Bishop’s lips thinned. “Anything concerning Amanda is my business.”

  Noah merely looked at him. “Yeah, right.”

  Bishop’s paleness turned into a heated flush. “I want you to leave her alone.”

  “No can do.”

  “Damn you, she’s going to marry me.”

  Noah cringed inside, but didn’t let it show. “Does she know that?”

  “You really are a son of a bitch.”

  Noah raised his eyebrows. “I’ve never denied that.”

  “Well, it’s certainly nothing to be proud of.”

  “Look, why don’t you just come to the point, then get the hell back where you came from.”

  “How Amanda ever got involved with you in the first place is beyond me,” Gordon said, his breath coming in hisses as he squeezed it out between gritted teeth.

  “I suggest you ask her about that.”

  “She doesn’t want to talk about you.”

  Ouch!

  “I am going to marry her,” Gordon said, still hissing.

  “We’ll see.”

  Bishop took a step closer to Noah, his eyes seething with suppressed rage and his nostrils flaring. “Leave her alone.”

  “I’m warning you, Bishop, my patience is getting lower by the second.”

  “What are you going to do, hit me?”

  “If it’ll help put you out of your misery, I can handle that.”

  “Don’t you have any shame at all?” Gordon croaked. “How could you stomp on her heart, then expect to get it back? What kind of man does something like that?”

  Noah’s face darkened with sudden rage, at himself and Bishop, whom he knew spoke the truth. “Get the hell out of my face before I live up to your expectations of me and rearrange yours.”

  Bishop backed up but didn’t shut up, though fear lit his eyes. “You may be a good doctor, but you’re not a good man. If you were, you’d leave her be, let her build a new life.”

  “For the second and last time, get out.”

  Once the door closed soundly behind his unwelcome guest, Noah knew he had to get some fresh air and to hell with the storm. It couldn’t even begin to match the one going on inside him.

  Quickly changing into his running shorts and shoes, he hooked his cell phone on his waistband and walked out the door.

  The now-gentle rain caressed his heated face and acted like a balm to his battered soul.

  He began to run.

  *

  Amanda looked up just as Doris appeared in the doorway of trauma one. Leaving the patient in care of the nurse, Amanda walked outside.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  “I just stopped by to let you know I’m going home.”

  “Lucky you.”

  “I know. Any idea when you’ll get away?”

  “Sometime in the next century, I expect.”

  Doris smile was wry. “Hell, the weather’s better. Why can’t someone else get their butt in here to relieve you?”

  “I’m sure the boss has been trying to find someone who can do just that.”

  “Well, I know Dr. Stanley’s in your corner, but jeez, enough’s enough.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

  “Unfortunately, I have,” Amanda responded in a bleak voice.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel worse. It’s just that I’m worried about you.”

  “I know, and I appreciate it, but I’ll make it, somehow.”

  “If I thought that strained expression in your eyes was just from overwork, I wouldn’t be so concerned.” Doris paused. “Only I know it isn’t.”

  Amanda looked down and shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat. “This isn’t a good time—”

  “To talk about you and Noah, I know. But just be careful, okay?”

  Amanda managed a limp smile. “Okay.”

  Once Doris had left, Amanda walked back to the side of her patient, a man who’d been brought in with heart palpitations. Bethany Kent was in attendance.

  “No changes in Mr. Aimsworth, I gather,” Amanda said, staring down at the sleeping man.

  “He’s holding his own.”


  “I want to know when the blood work comes back. Then I’ll know whether to admit him or not.”

  “Will do.”

  “By the way, I understand you’ve taken an interest in the preemie?”

  Beth’s eyes lit up. “He’s absolutely precious.”

  “I’m sure he is.”

  “He’s like a doll, only real.”

  “Too bad about his circumstances.”

  Beth frowned. “He doesn’t stand much of a chance with a mother so young—” She broke off, clearly embarrassed by her outburst.

  “You’re right, he doesn’t, which is too bad.”

  “It breaks my heart.” Bethany Kent fought back tears even as she smiled. “You ought to stop by and see him. He’s so precious.”

  “I just might do that,” Amanda said. “Maybe it’ll give me a lift.”

  “Oh, I can guarantee that. The little tyke’s a fighter.”

  Amanda left the room, and before she realized where she was headed, she had reached the nursery. She’d like to have a baby someday.

  She’d like to have Noah’s baby.

  That thought hit her with such force that she stopped, unable to get her breath. She didn’t want him, but she couldn’t let him go, either.

  Dear Lord, what was she going to do?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “Hey, Amanda, wait up.”

  Dr. Carl Stanley’s smoker’s voice pulled Amanda up short. She pivoted, then waited as he lumbered toward her.

  “Damn, if I don’t get some of this weight off me—”

  “Smoking, more so than weight, is your problem,” Amanda said pointedly, though she softened those words with a smile.

  “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

  “So, what can I do for you?” Amanda asked, no longer smiling—the effort was too much.

  “For starters, go home.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Go home. You look like a spook.”

  Amanda’s mouth turned down. “That’s not possible—for me to go home, that is.”

  “I’m the boss, and I say it is.”

  She smiled again. “Who’s going to cover ER? You?”

  “Are you saying I can’t?”

  His tone was blustering, but she knew he wasn’t offended.

  “You know better than that. But no matter who comes on board, I’m not leaving until my time’s up.”