Fighting for Keeps

Opening the office door, he joined Dominic at his table.

If nothing else, he was going to help this kid get his driver’s license.

* * *

LINDSAY ALL BUT ran from one examination room to the other where patients were waiting far too long to see a physician. Some kid had come back from an early summer vacation in France with a bad case of chicken pox and had succeeded in infecting the rest of Brookhollow Elementary with the disease.

Sixteen confirmed cases and counting already that day. Itchy, irritable children were bad, but they were nothing compared to the group of men who’d come in contact with poison ivy on a hunting trip.

People scratching themselves every which way she turned would have been almost funny, if she wasn’t so exhausted. Like most medical facilities in small towns, Brookhollow’s clinic provided a wide range of services and ran on a skeleton crew. Which was usually okay, until an outbreak occurred. Then the staff was expected to work double shifts and no one came out of days like this in a good mood.

She grabbed the next file from the reception desk.

Great, one of the grumpy men. At least he was the last of that group. “Mike, you can follow me,” she said, noticing Noah waiting near the clinic door. The small space was at standing-room capacity. “You here to pick up your results?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Don’t worry, I can wait.”

“Thanks. Give me a few minutes,” she said as she led Mike to an exam room. “Dr. McCarthy will be a few minutes. Try not to scratch.”

She shut the door and headed down the hall toward the file cabinets. Noah’s MRI results had come in that morning. He was all clear to fight, and she wasn’t sure why the positive results annoyed her. Of course, she’d never want anything to be seriously wrong with him...or any of her patients, but if only there was enough reason not to provide medical clearance.

Picking up the letter from Dr. McCarthy and a copy of the results to send to the fight committee, she went back to the desk and nodded for Noah to come forward.

“I could have waited.”

She shook her head. “We’re trying to limit wait times for anyone not here with chicken pox. The last thing we need is an adult outbreak.”

The clinic door opened and Victoria waddled in.

Oh, no. “Give me a sec,” she told Noah. Rushing toward the front door, she ushered Victoria back outside, reaching for a bottle of hand sanitizer as she went. “No! No! Get out...”

Victoria frowned as they walked into the hot sun. “What are you doing? I have a checkup with Dr. McCarthy today and I have to pee.” Her eyes widened as she held her baby bump. “This kid is using my bladder as a trampoline.”

“We will have to reschedule and you’ll have to pee somewhere else.” Lindsay took Victoria’s hands and pumped the sanitizer on them. “There’s an outbreak of chicken pox in there.”

Victoria immediately took several steps away from the clinic, furiously rubbing her hands. “Is it serious?”

“Sixteen cases so far today.”

Victoria moved farther away from her.

“I’m fine. Nathan and I had them as kids. Mom sent us to go play with Jonathan Turner when he had them one summer.” Lindsay had had to miss Brownie summer camp that year and instead had been stuck in the house all week with Nathan.

She could understand the logic now, but try explaining it to an eight-year-old who missed summer camp.

“Anyway, let’s rebook your appointment for next week...” She paused, remembering what Rachel had said about Victoria passing out. “You know what, I’ll stop by your house tomorrow morning and take your blood pressure and some routine tests.”

“Since when does the clinic do house calls?” Victoria eyed her suspiciously. “Rachel told you I passed out, huh?”

Okay, her sister-in-law couldn’t blame this one on her.

“Yes. She was worried about you.”

“Who else knows?”

Lindsay suppressed a sigh. She deserved that. Her reputation around town as the local one-stop-gossip-shop wasn’t entirely baseless. She did like to gossip...as long as it didn’t hurt anyone. “I filed it under patient confidentiality. Now, go home and rest and I’ll see you tomorrow morning, okay?”

“Thanks, Lindsay.”

Parked in the visitor space, Luke jumped down from the driver’s side of the truck when he saw his wife approach. He frowned, but then waved to Lindsay once Victoria explained the situation to him.

She smiled and watched Luke lift Victoria into the passenger seat.

That should have been her, she couldn’t help but think. Oh, well, maybe someday... Well...not someday with Luke, but someday with someone else. Someone better.

Yeah, right, as if that were possible.

Back inside the clinic, she returned her attention to Noah. “Sorry about that.”

“What was that? I mean, it’s no secret Vic’s not your favorite person, but kicking her out of the clinic is kind of harsh, don’t you think?” He smiled as he leaned against the counter.

Lindsay laughed for the first time that day as she pushed his arms away from the counter. “Seriously, this place is infested, don’t touch anything,” she said, disinfecting the counter with sanitizer wipes for the millionth time and handing him the sanitizer, which he refused. “And I sent Victoria away because she’s pregnant and the virus can harm an unborn child.”

“Oh, wow, didn’t know that.”

She flipped through his paperwork to make sure everything was there. “So, everything came back normal and you’re cleared to fight.” She’d delivered the good news through clenched teeth.

He took the paperwork. “Why do you disapprove of fighting so much?”

She was sure they’d had this conversation already. “It’s pointless and brutal. Two men hitting each other... I guess I don’t see how that can be considered a sport.”

“There is technique involved,” he said. “And a lot of training and conditioning...”

“I’m sure there’s more to it than I know.” Or want to know. She picked up the next file. “As fascinating as I’m sure it is, I have to get back to work.”

“What are you doing later?” He blocked her path to the waiting area.

“Working.”

“You’ve used that lie already.”

She pointed to the crowded waiting room. “It’s hardly a lie.” Today.

He grinned. “Okay, so what you’re saying is if you didn’t have to work tonight, you’d have dinner with me?”

“Not at all. What I’m saying is, if I didn’t have to work tonight, I would need to come up with a lie.”

* * *

“I...JUST...DON’T...GET...IT,” Noah panted between punches on the heavy bag an hour later.

On the other side Brandon held the bag as he continued his rain of jabs and strikes on the worn leather. “Look, man, I’d like to help you, but women troubles are not really my thing.”

“We haven’t even made it to troubles yet, she just straight-out refuses to even have dinner with me because I’m an MMA fighter. It’s actually kind of prejudiced.” Noah threw one final jab, then hit the mat at his feet in push-up position. “I mean, it’s like she assumes fighting is all I am.”

“Isn’t it?” Brandon asked, adding a stack of weights on his back.

Noah struggled with the last two, his forearms burning after the intense twenty-minute circuit set. “No way.”

He wondered what his coach would think if he knew about the outreach program. Since coming to Brookhollow, he’d made some great friends, Brandon and his brother Jordan included, but he was careful about what he chose to reveal about himself.

The families he’d met in the small town were so different from his own. They were supportive of one another, divorce was rare and his friends... Though they’d had their struggles they had never had to wonder where their next meal would come from or have to help their passed-out father to bed after far too many drinks.

Revealing the good he was trying to do would only spark conversation about the bad in his past. And he’d moved away from that. He wanted his friends to see him as the man he was now.

“I’ve got other things going on,” he said noncommittally as he rolled onto his back and brought his left knee and right elbow together in a crunch.

“The thing is,” Brandon admitted, “I’m not getting your attraction to her.”

“You’re kidding, right?” How could the men in this town be so blind to Lindsay’s appeal? She was smart, beautiful, kind... Impossible to reach. He was no stranger to chasing a pretty woman, but he’d believed her when she’d said she wasn’t interested. He just wasn’t sure he could accept that answer. Not this time. Not with her.

“Okay, maybe I’ve pegged her wrong. So enlighten me. What does it for you?”

“For one, she’s a knockout.” Noah did his twentieth crunch and his stomach started to burn. He loved that feeling, so he pushed on.

“I’ll give you that. She’s definitely one of the more attractive women in town,” Brandon said.

Noah let out a deep breath as the crunches got tougher and his abs hardened.

“And she’s educated,” he huffed, recalling how Brandon’s sister had filled him in on all the details on Lindsay the first night he’d noticed her at Bailey’s Thursday-night self-defense class at Extreme Athletics.

“She’s amazing with her patients.”

“Okay, so, maybe it’s a Florence Nightingale syndrome. You get hurt a lot, she has morphine?”

Noah shook his head as he stood. His buddy would never get it. Once opinions and stereotypes were formed in small towns, they were tough to shake. And Lindsay fit a clear stereotype in Brookhollow. He knew firsthand how annoying it was to be pegged a certain way and never given the benefit of a doubt. That was why he kept his past a secret from his friends. “Never mind.”

“Okay, maybe I can see why you like her, but, man, she does not like you,” Brandon said, tugging off Noah’s training gloves and unwrapping his hands.

“Believe me, I’ve noticed.”

It only made him want her to even more.

His entire life he’d met with challenges and adversity and he’d been successful in overcoming a lot. Could he meet the challenge of the five-foot-two, brilliant blonde who held firm to her own prejudice about him?

* * *

LINDSAY CRINGED AT the sound of the clinic door opening. The fourteen-hour shift continued with no end in sight. Her feet ached, even in her practical nursing shoes, and the last thing she’d eaten was half a protein bar as she’d rushed from one patient to another.

All she wanted was a cigarette, but each time she reached into her purse for her emergency pack, she heard her niece’s teary plea.

This day couldn’t end soon enough.

As she turned toward the door she almost wished it was another infected six-year-old as her eyes met Noah’s. What was he doing here again?

“Noah, if you have another self-inflicted injury—” She stopped when her gaze fell to the picnic basket he carried, the smell of fried chicken from Joey’s diner on Main Street filling the tiny waiting room.

Several patients, who’d been waiting hours to see a doctor, stared longingly at the basket and she had to swallow to stop from salivating.

“You brought your dinner into a medical clinic where people have been waiting for hours to see a doctor?” Talk about insensitive.

“It’s not for me,” he said, moving the magazines aside on the waiting room table. Setting the basket down, he opened it.

Lindsay’s eyes narrowed as she watched him remove two large buckets of the chicken and a stack of paper plates and napkins...and Tina’s famous potato salad...

Her weakness.

“Everyone, help yourselves,” he said, opening a grocery bag and handing out apple juice to the kids.

The waiting, hungry patients didn’t need any more prompting as they passed around the plates and the food.

Huh, that was...unexpected. And a little bit fantastic.

He took a smaller container from the basket. “Here. I wasn’t sure if greasy, fried food was your thing, so I brought you a BLT, with a side order of potato salad.”

Above and beyond. Who would have thought?

“Thank you. This was really nice of you.” She hesitated, still a little dumbfounded, but more than a little starving.

“Take a few minutes to eat. They are.” He nodded to the group devouring the impromptu food delivery.

“Okay.” She headed down the hall, but paused when she noticed he wasn’t following her. “You coming?” Her question must have surprised him as his eyebrows shot up.

He smiled. “No, you’re busy. I just wanted to stop by to take care of the pretty lady who’s taking care of everyone else.”

She felt her cheeks go red. “Well, thank you. Again.”

“Anytime,” he said over his shoulder as he left.

Unwrapping the sandwich where she stood, she watched Noah cross the parking lot to his motorcycle. So dangerous, so carefree—he really was the kind of man who preferred to live life on borrowed time.

She could never be with a man like Noah, but she had to admit, with each delicious bite of her BLT, she was beginning to feel huge regret about it.

CHAPTER THREE

LINDSAY YAWNED AS she shut down her office computer. The children with chicken pox and the men with poison ivy had all been treated and she’d finally been able to lock the walk-in clinic doors. If she couldn’t smoke, a glass of wine and a bubble bath were the next best thing waiting for her at home.

She stood and was about to turn off the clinic lights, the last one to leave, when she noticed the half BLT she’d left on the desk four hours ago.

Immediately her thoughts went to Noah. He was trying. But, unfortunately, she didn’t see a way around his career. It was too bad, she thought, because there was no denying the spark between them.

Sighing, she tossed the now-soggy sandwich into the trash and pulled the plastic bag out and tied it.

Carrying the bag outside, she tossed it into the large garbage bin. Then, back inside, she set the alarm.

“All doctors and nurses report to Emergency stat,” came the call over the clinic’s PA system as the alarm started to beep.

Lindsay groaned. So close...

After disarming the security system, she made her way quickly down the hall toward the elevators. Emergency was on the third floor and after hitting the button, she shook herself awake. Double shifts were not uncommon, though emergency stat orders were.

And there was no questioning the severity of things as the elevator doors opened and she stepped out into the hall. An ambulance stretcher whizzed past her, followed immediately by a second.

Her heart raced. An accident? Outside, she could see the flashing lights of the ambulance and the fire truck, and her mouth went dry. She rushed to the nursing station. “What happened?” she asked Kimberly-Ann, one of the ER nurses on duty.

The woman looked pale as she shook her head.

“Kimberly-Ann!”

A man she didn’t recognize, wearing a Brookhollow Police Station jacket, spoke. “There was a collision on Highway 14. A transport truck lost a load of plywood.” He paused. “I’m Sherriff Matthews, the new...”

Lindsay didn’t care who he was. She shot into motion, heading toward one of the operating rooms where the two doctors on staff were talking to the paramedics.

She was a step away from them when, from behind, an arm wrapped around her waist, preventing her from going farther. She whipped around, freeing herself. Noah, in his firefighter uniform, grabbed her arm, keeping her in place.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

He swallowed hard, his expression dark. “I don’t think you should go in there,” he said firmly.

Oh, no. “Why not? Who did they bring in?” Her mouth felt like sandpaper and her knees buckled slightly.

He hesitated.

“Who is it, Noah?” She broke away from him, ready to run to the operating room.

“Nathan and Rachel.”

Turning, she made to sprint toward the double doors leading into the first operating room, but Noah’s strong arms around her waist lifted her off the ground and moved her away.

“Let me go.” Frantically she struggled, but his hold tightened. “I have to get in there...all nurses...” This was her job, dammit, and it was her family in there. “Let go!”

“No. You can’t keep a straight head in this situation.”

“Put me down.” She pushed against his arms as Kimberly-Ann stepped in, the new Sherriff beside her.

“Dr. McCarthy said not to let you go in...not yet.”

The struggle left her and her body went limp in Noah’s arms. It was serious... They weren’t okay... They weren’t letting her in. That only meant one thing.

She broke out of Noah’s grasp, but he stood guard, blocking her access to the hallway.

“How bad are they hurt?” She didn’t recognize her own voice as she asked the question.

“Lindsay...”

“How bad!”

His gaze and shoulders dropped simultaneously. “We were first on scene. There was nothing we could do for Nathan.”

Her chest tightened and she couldn’t catch a breath as the room spun around her. What exactly was he saying?

“Paramedics confirmed time of death when they arrived,” he said gently. “I’m so sorry, Lindsay.”

“Here...sit,” Kimberly-Ann said as she took her arm and they tried to help her to a chair.

She fought them. “What about Rachel? Where are the kids?” Her stomach turned and she swallowed to keep from vomiting.

“The kids weren’t in the van.”

A sob of relief escaped her and her hand flew to her mouth.

Noah hesitated, casting a glance toward Kimberly-Ann before saying, “Rachel is in critical condition. It doesn’t look good...” His hands were rubbing her arms, but she felt nothing.

His voice faded as her mind reeled. Nathan—dead? Rachel—critical? How? How was it possible that this could happen? She’d seen them two days ago...

The kids... Thank God they hadn’t been in the vehicle. She dove for the trash can behind the ER desk, emptying the contents of her stomach.

Noah was bent at her side as she fought to catch her breath. “How...how...what...I need to...”

“Just breathe...” He glanced at Kimberly-Ann. “Is there something we can get her?”

“I need...to...to see Nathan.” She stood and tried to move past him. Nathan couldn’t be dead. That was ridiculous... He had five children...five small children. Another sob escaped her. “I need to go in there...”

Noah wrapped his arms around her tightly and pulled her against him on the floor. “Not yet,” he whispered.

She clutched the fabric of his jacket and buried her face in his chest as her tears soaked the front of his shirt. “I need to see him.”

He hugged her tighter. “I’m so sorry, Lindsay. There’s nothing you can do for him.”

* * *

LINDSAY CLIMBED THE stairs to the living quarters of the B and B three hours later. The house was silent in the 3:00 a.m. darkness, the only light escaping beneath the bedroom door of the nursery, where she knew the twins’ butterfly night-light provided the toddlers a sense of comfort while they slept.

Her eyes were heavy and her legs were cement blocks as she walked down the hallway toward the room that had been Rachel and Nathan’s. A room they would no longer sleep in...

Rachel had passed away an hour ago. Her struggle to survive the heavy brain trauma she’d suffered in the accident had been a fight she couldn’t win, and her soul had joined her husband’s.

Opening the bedroom door, she stepped inside and her legs immediately gave way beneath her.

They were gone. No matter how many times the thought crushed her, she couldn’t believe it. She’d witnessed the coming and passing of life so many times as a nurse, but this loss was beyond her comprehension.

They were so young. They were so in love. They had five precious children who needed their parents.

A sob choked her as she lay on the hardwood floor and pulled her knees to her chest. Her shoulders trembled violently as tears pooled on the floor beneath her.

She wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and wake up to find this was all just a nightmare. That her brother and sister-in-law were fine.

But the cold truth remained. In three hours the sun would come up and she would have to tell the children their parents wouldn’t be coming home.

* * *

THE AIR WAS cool as Noah headed away from the bed-and-breakfast after first driving Lindsay home to collect her things. She hadn’t even put up a fight about handing over the keys to her Jeep and allowing him to drive. She’d mumbled, “The B and B,” when he’d asked her where she wanted him to take her and then she’d been silent on the short drive there.

Torn between wanting to give her space and to comfort her, provide a safe place for her to grieve, he’d driven slowly and quietly, leaving her alone with her tumultuous thoughts.

He knew loss. It created a hole that couldn’t be filled with kind words or warm hugs. She had to learn how to deal with this her own way, to find her own coping mechanisms to face the days ahead.

Big raindrops started to hit the ground in front of him as he walked. He shivered in the fog. In the distance the town clock bells rang three times. He quickened his pace as he rounded the corner to the street, heading toward the fire hall.

In four hours his shift would be over and he’d head back to the B and B where he intended to be whenever he was needed and not too far from when he wasn’t.

Lindsay wouldn’t be alone.

* * *

LUKE FORCED A steaming cup of tea into Lindsay’s trembling hands early the next morning before joining his wife on the sofa across from her in the B and B’s living room.

Victoria had yet to speak a word without sobbing, so she sat quietly, numb from shock as tears flowed down her cheeks.

“Try to drink this,” Luke said, handing another cup to his wife.

She knew he was as tormented as they were, but Luke had adopted the role no one else could handle that morning. He was being the strong one, doing what needed to be done, including telling the three oldest children. They’d decided to let the babies sleep, unsure how much the toddlers would understand.

With both of Rachel’s parents already deceased, and Nathan and Lindsay’s parents in Phoenix, the three of them did their best to deal with a situation no one ever wanted to find themselves in.

“It’s been an hour and they haven’t come out of there,” Lindsay whispered, her eyes filling instantly with new tears as she glanced up the stairs to Melissa’s room, where the little girl had locked herself and her five-year-old brothers inside. Hopelessness was by far the worst of the emotions competing within her, she decided.

“Give them some time...they are going to need each other through this,” Luke said, turning away quickly and covering his eyes.

The sight of his strength finally wavering reduced both women to even more of a mess.

Quickly pulling himself together, Luke cleared his throat and wiped his eyes. “I’ll go get the girls,” he said, taking the stairs two at a time.

Lindsay set the cup aside and forced several deep breaths.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” Victoria said, her voice sounding far away.

“I know.” Nothing about the past eight hours felt real. There was so much to be done, yet she didn’t think she had the strength to stand, let alone make funeral arrangements and contact the remaining family and friends.

Luke had also taken care of calling her parents, who’d booked seats on a plane to Newark that day. She supposed she would have to go pick them up.

The front door to the B and B opened, but neither woman looked up. The idea of a guest arriving to check in hadn’t occurred to Lindsay.

Life didn’t go on after a tragedy like this, did it?

“Hi,” Noah said, walking in. He gave her shoulder a squeeze, but she barely felt it. “I wanted to stop by...see if there was anything I could do.”