Dr. Do-Or-Die

She glanced up, tamping down a surge of impatience at the interruption. “Yes?”

“Be careful out there,” he said, his gray eyes solemn.

Avery nodded, taken aback by his warning. In the five years she and Harold had been working together, he’d never once told her to be careful. For him to say so now drove home just how worried he was about the situation, and Avery felt a small weight settle on her shoulders. This case was different, she could already tell. And not just because of the exotic location.

“I will,” she promised. “We’ll get this thing under control and I’ll be back here bugging you before you know it.”

He tried for a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I hope so,” he said. Then he opened the door and left, closing it softly behind him.

Three days later...

“Dr. Jones?”

The words drifted through the fog of fatigue that hung heavy over Grant’s mind. “Hmm?” Not his most eloquent response, but it was the best he could manage with his face half buried in the pillow.

“The plane’s landed.”

“M’kay.” The pillow was soft and cool under his cheek and he stretched, relishing the sensation of lying flat for the first time in days. He hadn’t caught more than a few snatches of sleep over the past week, and now that he’d managed to collapse on a bed he wasn’t going to get up unless the hospital was on fire.

And maybe not even then.

“Dr. Jones?”

“Hmm?” Now he felt a flash of irritation. Why was the nurse still here? She’d delivered her message—why couldn’t she just leave him in peace so he could lapse into the coma his body so desperately needed?

“The expert from the CDC is here and wants to meet you.”

Damn. He was going to have to get up after all.

“M’kay,” he muttered. He flipped onto his back, then brought his hands up to his eyes and rubbed vigorously. “I’ll be right there,” he called out, dismissing the messenger. She closed the door, leaving him alone again.

Grant forced himself to sit up, knowing that if he didn’t it would be all too easy to surrender to sleep once more. But since he was the chief doctor on-base, it was his responsibility to brief the reinforcements about the “situation,” as he’d come to think of it. He preferred that to the more inflammatory term outbreak.

Or apocalypse.

He stood and forced the exhausted hamster back on the rusty wheel in his brain. Caffeine. He needed caffeine—industrial quantities of it.

He stepped into the small adjacent bathroom and flipped on the lights, wincing at the sudden brightness. A dull throb started up behind his eyeballs, but he ignored it. He’d learned from experience that medication didn’t relieve his fatigue-induced headaches. Only sleep helped, and he wasn’t likely to get that anytime soon.

A glance in the mirror told him he looked as rough as he felt. Too bad there wasn’t time for a shower and shave—he certainly wasn’t going to make a good first impression with his hair sticking out and a weeks’ worth of stubble on his cheeks. He sighed, dismissing the issue. With everything else going on, he just couldn’t muster up the energy to care about his appearance.

He stepped out into the hall and started down the narrow corridor. Every inch of available room was crammed with stuff—supplies, medical records, bedsheets. They couldn’t afford to let any space go unused. When he’d first arrived, he felt claustrophobic and overwhelmed—how was he going to remember where anything was? But it hadn’t taken long for him to learn the system, such as it was, and now he navigated the apparent chaos with ease.

He walked to the main desk, which faced the entrance to the hospital, expecting to find the new arrivals clustered around the door. But the small entryway was empty, along with the nurse who was on reception duty. Where were they?

The sound of voices drifted down the other hall and he turned and set off, wondering what they were doing. Maybe one of the nurses was giving them a quick tour of the facility? And it would be quick—with only twenty beds, they weren’t exactly set up for the kind of cases they’d been getting lately. He shook his head, his mood sinking as it always did when he thought of the four patients he hadn’t been able to save...

Fortunately, most of the beds were empty now. After the initial set of ten patients, they’d settled into a lull, and there hadn’t been any new cases in the last three days. He hoped this was a sign the outbreak was over, but deep in his gut he worried it was only the beginning.

Despite the ten patients and four deaths, he knew they’d been incredibly lucky. Although this bug was nasty, it wasn’t very contagious. That was the only thing that had saved the base. If the virus or whatever it was figured out how to jump from person to person? This whole place would be wiped out within a week. It was the nightmare that kept him awake, trying to figure out what he could do protect the researchers and staff toiling away here at the bottom of the world.

He hadn’t protested when the base commander called the CDC for advice—he had his pride, but given the nature of this disease, he wasn’t about to turn down help, especially not from people who had tackled this sort of thing before. He just hoped the guy they’d sent out would be easy to work with—people were already stressed and on edge, wondering when the disease would strike again.

The voices were coming from the small bay that held the dentist’s chair and equipment. Dr. Farnly was their resident dentist, but he hadn’t seen much work recently. Grant poked his head around the corner and was shocked to find a small group of people moving dentistry supplies and equipment and setting up what looked like laboratory instruments.

The two women and two men moved around the space like they owned the place. He opened his mouth to protest, but his gaze caught on a blond ponytail and the words died in his throat.

Avery?

His brain rejected the idea almost immediately, but his heart took a little more convincing. Of course it wasn’t her—it couldn’t be. But this woman, whoever she was, had the same color hair—a warm, golden mix of honey, sunshine and corn silk that Avery had worn in long waves cascading down her back. How many hours had he spent running his hands over the soft strands, stroking it away from her face as she lay with her head in his lap, both of them enjoying the lazy days of summer back when they’d been college students and their biggest worry had been what to do on Friday night?

This woman shifted and something in his chest tightened, her graceful movements yet another reminder of the woman he’d once loved. He realized now with the gift of hindsight just how stupid he’d been. But it was too late to make amends. Avery had moved on with her life and she deserved better.

Fresh grief welled up, but Grant tamped it down. He missed Avery, would always miss her. But he couldn’t get bogged down in emotion now, not when so many people were counting on him to stay focused.

He shook his head to dispel the faint nostalgia that always appeared whenever he thought of Avery. He’d realized his mistake almost immediately after their breakup, and he’d spent days mired in the memories of their life together. But as the weeks and months had turned to years, he’d gotten better about keeping thoughts of her tucked away, only stopping to take them out and linger over them when he was alone. He certainly hadn’t meant to indulge now, in the middle of the hospital.

It was the fatigue, he decided. His defenses were down, which was why he’d been blindsided by the sight of a woman with long, blond hair. Time to meet this expert and head back to bed for a long-overdue nap.

“What is going on here?” The question came out a little harsher than he’d intended, his emotions still too close to the surface for his liking.

One of the nurses glanced over and stepped to his side. “It’s the CDC expert—they’re setting up a temporary lab.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. We don’t have the space for that!”

She shrugged and held up her hands in a kind of “what am I supposed to do about it?” gesture.

So much for the guy being easy to work with. He’d been here all of five minutes and was already reorganizing and repurposing space without asking permission. Grant eyed the small group, trying to pick out the man at the head of this little takeover.

“Who’s in charge here?” he asked, glancing back and forth between a tall, skinny man in a blue scrub top and a stockier blond guy in a Harvard sweatshirt. My money’s on Harvard, he thought, waiting for a reply.

“I am,” came a distinctly feminine voice.

A very familiar voice.

Oh, God. It’s not possible. Is it?

His heart beating double time in his chest, Grant turned and found Avery Thatcher staring at him, one eyebrow quirked up in that familiar, inquisitive expression he’d once loved. She stared at him for a moment, and he watched as her blue eyes flared wide in recognition. He couldn’t see her mouth because of the mask she wore, but he was willing to bet she was biting her bottom lip the way she always had when something bothered her.

“Grant?” She sounded almost as incredulous as he felt, and she tightened her grip on the clipboard she held, her knuckles going white under her skin.

A tsunami of words rose in his throat, all the things he should have said ten years ago now jostling and vying for expression. He swallowed hard. “Hello, Avery. Long time no see.” It was a lame greeting, but it was better than gawking at her like she was a ghost come back to life.

She was silent a moment, and Grant got the distinct impression Avery wanted nothing more than to turn her back on him and pretend he wasn’t there. But she was too much of a professional to let her personal desires get in the way of her job. “Grant,” she repeated evenly. “What a surprise.”

He tried to laugh to dispel the tension, but the sound came out as more of a strangled wheeze. “I know, right? Of all the gin joints in the world...” He trailed off and Avery smiled politely—he could see her cheeks move under the paper of the mask, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

“Indeed. So you’re the chief here?”

He cleared his throat, happy to change the subject. Besides, what could he say to make up for the past? It would take more than a few bad jokes to reach her now. “I am. I take it you’re the expert from the CDC?”

“I am,” she replied.

A fierce burst of pride came out of nowhere and made him want to hug her, but he knew better than to try it. Even when they’d been undergraduate students, Avery always wanted to be the best. She’d worked hard to rise to the head of their class, and thanks to her talent and determination, she’d had her pick of medical schools. It was no surprise that she was now at the top of her field.

A hint of sadness tinged the edges of his vision as he studied her. If he hadn’t been such a dumb kid, he would have been a part of her life all this time, would have celebrated her accomplishments with her. Instead he felt like a stranger, a realization made all the more painful, thanks to the closeness they’d once shared.

He deliberately turned his thoughts away from the past. “It’s not airborne,” he said, gesturing to her mask. “You don’t need that.” Her eyes were quite expressive, but he wanted to see the rest of her face so he could get a better idea of what she was thinking. Once upon a time he’d known all her expressions and had been able to practically see her thoughts based on how she held her mouth or lifted an eyebrow. Would he still be able to read her like that now?

Her eyes narrowed. “I was told the patients suffered extensive respiratory symptoms.”

“That’s true, but whatever is causing this disease doesn’t seem to be transmitted through the air. Why do you think I’m still alive?” His tone was light, but she didn’t smile.

She eyed him up and down, as if assessing the truth of his statement for herself. After a long moment, she lifted her hand and tugged the mask down, exposing her pert nose and full, pink lips to his gaze.

Grant felt the faint stirrings of desire as he stared at her mouth, remembering the feel of it against his own. Memories flooded his mind, assaulting his senses and overwhelming his thoughts. He fought to put them back in the box where they belonged, but in his sleep-deprived state, it was harder than usual to keep things under control. Desperate for a distraction, he cleared his throat. “What are you doing?” He gestured to the equipment being crammed cheek by jowl on the available counter space, and the boxes of what could only be lab supplies stacked on the floor.

Avery frowned slightly. “Setting up a field lab,” she replied in a tone that suggested this should be perfectly obvious. She glanced over to where a man was unpacking a box. “No, put the PCR machine next to the sequencer, please.” He nodded and moved to follow her instructions, and Avery turned back to Grant. “I was given a list of your lab equipment and brought some of my own to supplement it.”

Her presumption lit a spark of irritation in his chest, and he seized on the emotion, grateful for the change in his internal focus. “And you just thought you’d take over our dentist’s office?”

Avery glanced around the space, her expression making it clear she didn’t think too highly of that description. “It’s across the hall from your existing lab,” she pointed out reasonably. “It seemed like the best location, all things considered. And I was told you haven’t had a lot of demand for dentistry lately.”

It was true, but Grant still would have appreciated a heads-up before they’d taken over the space. “By all means,” he said dryly. “Make yourself at home, then.”

“Thanks.”

He stood there a moment, watching the men and women unpack. They moved quickly but competently, and as they worked he could see the organization of things take shape before his eyes. It was yet another example of the take-charge, can-do attitude Avery had always shown, no matter the circumstances.

Grant knew he should be relieved that reinforcements had arrived, but he still couldn’t shake his annoyance at the sense that things were spinning out of his control. Dealing with this strange outbreak had been difficult, and the deaths of four of his patients had made him feel powerless, a sensation he hated. Having to work with Avery, the woman he’d loved and lost, was just the icing on the cake of this crappy situation.

“I was told you wanted to meet with me?” His voice held a slight edge he didn’t bother to hide.

Avery glanced over at him, as if she’d forgotten he was standing there. “Yes. Do you have an office where we can talk?”

“Of course.” Truth be told, it was more of a broom closet than an office. But it was his space, and that was all that mattered.

She turned back and eyed the progress of her little group, apparently doing some mental calculations as to how much longer it would take them to finish setting up her domain. “Can I meet you there in half an hour?”

“Make it an hour,” he said. That would give him enough time to take a quick nap, which would reset his brain and allow him to shore up his defenses against the flood of memories her presence had unleashed.

“Great,” she said, sounding a little distracted. “See you then.”

Grant recognized a dismissal when he heard one. He turned and was surprised to feel a faint sense of anticipation as he walked away. He’d really screwed things up ten years ago, and she hadn’t hesitated to cut him out of her life. Despite all the reasons he shouldn’t care, it bothered him that their relationship had ended so badly. Part of him had always hoped to see her again, to try to make things right now that time had dulled the sting of his actions for both of them. And while he knew there was no way to repair all the damage he’d done, it would be nice if he and Avery could part company on good terms this time.

Provided they both made it out of here alive.

Chapter 2

Avery took a deep breath and placed a hand on her stomach to still the butterfly wings fluttering inside. Why was she nervous? She was a professional, for crying out loud. She’d successfully worked numerous outbreaks in many different settings, ranging from small, isolated towns to major cities, and everywhere in between. She knew what she was doing, and she did it well.

Why, then, did she feel like a rookie on her first assignment?

It could be because she was working with a new team. The nurses and lab tech who’d flown in with her weren’t new to outbreak work, but since Avery had met them all for the first time only a few days ago, she wasn’t sure how they would jell together. Everyone seemed nice enough now, but she knew from experience that once the real work began, the stress level increased and tempers rose to the surface. It would be up to her to keep the team focused, motivated, and feeling supported.

It was a tough job, but nothing she hadn’t done before. And in truth, she relished the challenge—it was part of what she loved about her work.

No, her jangling nerves had little to do with the task at hand and everything to do with the man she was on her way to see.

Grant Jones had clearly been surprised by her presence, and the feeling was entirely mutual. She closed her eyes, mentally adding up the time since she’d seen him last. Ten years, she realized with a small jolt. A lifetime ago.

She had to admit; the years had been kind to him. His light brown hair still held a bit of a curl; only now it was shot through with a few silver strands. He’d acquired fans of fine lines at the corners of his hazel eyes, but the arches of his cheekbones and his long, straight nose hadn’t changed. His mouth still held that hint of mischief, too, as if he was always thinking of some private joke.

She couldn’t say she’d missed him—he’d hurt her too badly for that. But now that she’d seen him once again, a small bud of curiosity began to bloom. What had his life been like over the past decade? Did he have a wife? Kids?

The thought of children was like a knife to her heart, and she quickly dismissed the idea. But her memories weren’t so quick to fade...

I’m pregnant.

Two little words, and yet they’d changed everything.

Avery looked down as she washed her hands in the small bathroom, but the chipped sink and unfamiliar surroundings faded as the memory of another bathroom took its place...

* * *

It was her senior year of college, and she and Grant had their future all mapped out. They were both going to medical school—even though they’d been accepted to different institutions, Grant was already planning to transfer to be with Avery during his second year. They’d get an apartment together, study together, support each other through the trials and tribulations of school. And then, when they’d both gotten their MDs, they’d get married and live happily-ever-after.

That was the plan, until halfway through the year when Avery came down with a stomach bug.

Except it wasn’t a normal illness. This one lingered for days, leaving her exhausted. Her stomach revolted every time she ate, giving her no choice but to spend a lot of time in the bathroom. For the second time that day, she knelt on the cold tile floor and wiped the sick off her lips with a wad of toilet paper.

Swallowing with a grimace, she stood and flushed the toilet, then made her way to the sink and reached for her toothbrush. Her gaze caught on the blue box of tampons on the counter and she frowned. How long had it been since she’d had to use them?

She searched her memory, her thoughts growing more frantic as she went further back in time. Her period was two—no, three—weeks late. Her heart in her throat, she skipped class and drove to the gas station across town. No way was she going to buy a pregnancy test at the campus general store—that would trigger all sorts of rumors she didn’t want to deal with. Ignoring the knowing smirk of the teenage boy who rang up her purchase, Avery raced back to her apartment and locked herself in the bathroom. She placed the stick on the counter and closed her eyes, counting silently as she waited for her fate to be revealed.

It was the longest two minutes of her life. Gathering up her courage, she took a deep breath and opened her eyes.

Two lines.

She was pregnant.

Her first thought was denial. This isn’t happening. She and Grant were always extra careful—she took her pill religiously every day, and they used condoms, too. The last thing either one of them wanted was a baby right now, not when they had such big plans. The test has to be wrong. It was the only explanation that made sense, and she clung to it like a drowning man given a life raft. Her body shaking, she took the second one. And then the third and final test in the box. Ten minutes later, she had to admit the truth.

The next few days passed in a blur. She went to class, pretended everything was okay. But inside she was numb, still trying to process this unexpected detour in her life’s plan. Gradually, though, the shock that had left her frozen thawed, and she began rewriting her blueprint for happiness. She and Grant would get married now, and she’d move out to California with him so he could start medical school. She’d delay her admission for a year and then begin her own program once the baby was a little older. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but they would make it work.

Her mind made up and a new plan in place, Avery decided it was time to tell Grant. She met him at the apartment he shared with two of his fraternity brothers, figuring it was better to break the news in private.

It went well, all things considered. Grant certainly wasn’t excited about the news, but he wasn’t angry, either. Looking back on it later, Avery realized his dominant emotion had been terror, which was understandable. But he’d put on a brave face and told her everything would be okay. Avery had left him after a few hours, knowing he needed some time alone to process the news.

She went to bed that night feeling hopeful, and for the first time she began to really wonder about the new life inside of her. Would it be a boy or a girl? Would it have her blue eyes, or Grant’s hazel-green? And what about names?

A few weeks later, she started bleeding.

Faint at first, but as the day wore on it got heavier. She called her ob-gyn, who told her this was normal for some women. The reassurance made her feel a little better, but she still worried. A few hours later, she started cramping.

She tried to call Grant, but he didn’t answer his phone. So she drove herself to the emergency room, and was alone when the doctor told her the news. Even today, Avery could still see his face when she closed her eyes. He was a young man, tall and lanky in green scrubs and wearing a white coat that was too big for his frame. He looked like a little boy wearing his father’s clothes, and Avery kept waiting for the real doctor to show up.

“I’m so sorry, miss,” he said, looking supremely uncomfortable. “But you’re having a miscarriage.”

The words stung, each one landing like a separate slap that left her reeling. She fought to hold back her tears, but it was no use. She broke down in the exam bay, the white curtain surrounding her bed doing nothing to muffle her sorrow from the rest of the ER. To his credit, the doctor didn’t leave. He walked over to the bed and held her hand, his touch bearing witness to her pain.

After what seemed like an eternity, Avery somehow managed to get herself home and curled up in a ball on the bed. She didn’t know how much time passed—didn’t really care. Her whole consciousness was turned inward, focused on the internal workings of her body and the heartbreaking events in progress...

* * *

The door hinges squeaked and Avery came back to the present with a little jump. She smiled at the woman who walked in and received a polite nod in return. Time to go, she thought, twisting off the faucet. She couldn’t very well continue to stand here, lost in bitter memories, now that she had company. Besides, she’d already spent too much time thinking about the past. Her shared history with Grant was painful, but she wasn’t going to let it affect her current job. And if the shock on his face was anything to go by, he didn’t really want to walk down memory lane, either. It seemed they were both on the same page, then. Focus on the problem at hand so they could each go their separate ways.