Healing Hearts

Now that she’s healed...can she heal him?

Armed with a clean bill of health, ER doctor April Sprader is ready to check off items on her bucket list. After meeting Zach Harrison, number four—start dating—shoots to the top. But the workaholic sports agent and caregiver has no spare time. Unless April can persuade Zach that this could be a second chance for them both...

SYNDI POWELL started writing stories when she was young and has made it a lifelong pursuit. She’s been reading Mills & Boon romance novels since she was in her teens and is thrilled to be on the Mills & Boon team. She loves to connect with readers on Twitter, @syndipowell, or on her Facebook author page, Facebook.com/syndipowellauthor.

Also By Syndi Powell

Afraid to Lose Her

The Sweetheart Deal

Two-Part Harmony

Risk of Falling

The Reluctant Bachelor

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Healing Hearts

Syndi Powell

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08090-3

HEALING HEARTS

© 2018 Cynthia Powell

Published in Great Britain 2018

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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“You look beautiful.” Zach smiled.

“Why are you saying that to me?”

“Because it’s true?”

April looked into his eyes. “Why did you come here tonight?”

Nothing like being direct. Zach took a step closer to her. “The thing is, I’ve tried not to think about you, but it’s impossible. So I am officially giving up. I came here tonight because I wanted to be near you. To spend time with you and see if this is the worst idea I’ve ever had.”

“And what idea would that be?”

“Would you like to go out for dinner sometime?” There. He’d asked her. Maybe the invitation wasn’t as eloquent as he’d hoped it would be, but it was out there now. And it was up to her to accept it. Or reject it, but he wasn’t going to think about that.

“Why?”

Okay, well, that wasn’t the response he’d hoped for. “Why not? Isn’t there something on that second-chance list we could cross off together?”

Dear Reader,

I hope you’ve been enjoying Hope Center Stories as much as I have. Three different women on three different breast cancer journeys, but all of them strong survivors.

It’s funny because though all three women are so different from one other, they each represent part of my own cancer story. In the first book, Sherri expressed my own thoughts and fears at the time I was diagnosed. With April’s story, I was able to explore my own second-chance list of what I wanted to do after I was well again. Some of her items that she wants to check off are similar to those I had, but haven’t completed as of yet. I need more of my inner April to come out and play!

This story is also about those caretakers who give up pieces of their lives to help family members. I was privileged enough to be caretaker to my dad before he passed away in 2008. I remember at times feeling so overwhelmed by his care that I called my mom to tell her I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t watch as he faded away day after day. Yet looking back on it now, I wouldn’t trade that time with him for anything. I grew closer to my dad and cherish those small moments we shared. While Zach might not yet appreciate his own struggles with caring for his mom, I hope to show that caretakers are indeed special and blessed.

Thank you for passing along these stories to family and friends. We are always stronger together!

Syndi

Sometimes family isn’t the one you’re born into, but the one you create.

To my stepdad, Russell D’Hondt, who loves to come up with twists and turns in the plot with me (you can thank him for helping me out of many a writing corner!) and who treats my mother like the queen she is. And to my stepbrother, John D’Hondt, who is showing us all how to take charge of your own life and make a difference instead of excuses.

Keep up the great work!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Introduction

Dear Reader

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Extract

CHAPTER ONE

APRIL SPRADER WANTED one moment of sanity. Just one minute when she didn’t have to run between examination rooms because she didn’t have enough staff, which she didn’t. Her emergency department was shorthanded. Again. Half of the doctors and nurses out with the flu. Again. And the patients kept coming. She listened to her current patient’s breathing sounds. “Another deep breath, please.”

The older man sucked in air. She could hear the distinctive wheeze of infected bronchial tubes and removed the stethoscope from her ears. “I can run more tests, but it seems you have bronchitis.”

The man had a scrunched expression. “Not pneumonia, then.”

“Like I said, I could run more tests, but you’re wheezing due to inflamed lungs. They don’t have the liquid buildup of pneumonia.” She made a note on his chart and took a prescription pad from the front pocket of her lab coat. “You need to drink plenty of fluids and get some rest.” She wrote two prescriptions and ripped the slips from the pad before handing them to the man. “You can either fill these here at the hospital or take them to your local pharmacy. One’s for an inhaler, the other for a stronger cough medicine. If things don’t improve in a week, see your regular doctor.”

He thanked her and stuffed the prescriptions in the front pocket of his flannel shirt. One down. Only twenty-two more or so to go before she could take fifteen minutes for herself.

She left the curtained area and returned to the pit, where she checked the charts of waiting patients. Her head nurse, Janet, had prioritized them in order of urgency, so she only had to grab the top one and walk away. Heart palpitations in curtain five. Yep, that would be a priority.

She pushed the curtain aside and double-checked the chart. “Antonio Johnson?” She glanced at the African American kid sitting on the hospital bed. He looked no more than eighteen, although his chart gave his age as twenty-two, so why was he having heart issues? The kid offered her a weak smile as she stepped forward. “What brings you to my ER tonight?”

“He complained of chest pain and passed out at practice today.” A good-looking man with artfully messy dark hair in a charcoal-gray business suit and light blue tie, with a cell phone plastered to his ear, moved closer to Johnson. “I need to know. Is his football career over? Is it his heart?”

She raised her eyebrows at this. “And you are?”

“His agent.” He then ignored her and spoke softly into his phone.

April tried not to roll her eyes at him and focused instead on Antonio. “What were you doing before you passed out?”

“We were trying a five-ten-five shuttle run, which I’ve done a million times. And when I hit the forty-yard line, things got fuzzy and the next thing I knew, I’m lying on the field and the coach is yelling at me to get up.”

The only words she had understood were that he’d passed out on a sports field. “A five-ten-five?”

“You know. It’s a drill we run at practices. But this was a tryout.” Antonio gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I’ve never had that happen before.”

“Your...” She glanced briefly at the man hissing into the phone. Really? “Your agent mentioned chest pains?”

Antonio shook his head. “That was before. I felt fine. Well, dizzy but fine. But you know. So is it my heart, Doc?”

She removed her stethoscope from around her neck and used the earpieces before pressing the chest piece to his back. “Take a few deep breaths for me.”

The kid complied, and she could hear normal breathing sounds. She then placed the chest piece over his heart. She could hear the rhythmic beating as well as a distinctive click. She removed the earpieces and placed the stethoscope around her neck once again. “Have you experienced these palpitations and chest pains before?”

“No, he’s in perfect health. This has never happened before. Like we said.”

April was taken aback at the agent and tried to keep her lip from curling. “I was asking Antonio. My patient.” She turned back to the kid. “Has this ever happened before?”

The kid looked at his agent, then shifted back to her. “Maybe a couple times, but then it was okay. And I didn’t pass out or nothing.”

“You never told me about that.”

Antonio shrugged off his agent’s comment. “It didn’t seem like a big deal. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest, but then it would calm down. Besides, I was in the middle of a workout and your heart is supposed to be pumping that hard.” He focused on her. “Right?”

She gave a nod and made some notes on his chart. “I’d like to do some tests to be sure I understand what’s going on with you.”

The agent scoffed. “Tests? He needs to be back on the field before the coach starts wondering if he needs to find another receiver.”

She didn’t second-guess herself, getting into the agent’s personal space and poking him in the chest. “Hey. Antonio needs to be sure that this isn’t something more serious, something that could end his life, much less his career.”

The man clenched his jaw, and she could see a steady heartbeat in his carotid artery. He narrowed his eyes at her. “Can I see you in private for a moment?”

The agent moved past her and she followed him, but she wasn’t going to back down. She didn’t care how handsome he was or how important he thought his client was, Antonio needed these tests to confirm what she suspected. The man studied her name tag. “Dr. Sprader, I’m sure you can understand the pressure that Antonio is under. He’s a rookie who needs to prove himself. Any kind of issue before he signs with the team, and he’s not likely to see a contract.”

“And I’m sure you can understand that my number one concern is the health of your client. That should be yours, as well.” She put her hand on the curtain to push it aside. The man put his hand on hers to still it. She turned toward him. “Don’t touch me.”

He removed his hand from hers. “What if we promise to go to his regular doctor...tomorrow?”

She doubted that they would make it a priority if Antonio had a tryout scheduled at the same time. “What if I order these tests, and you stop interfering with my job?”

“He’s my job, too. My client.”

“And he’s my patient. Now, why don’t you go to the cafeteria and get a coffee while I take care of Antonio?” She glanced down at his buzzing phone. The sound was annoying. “Or better yet, take your phone to the parking lot and look after your business so I can look after mine.”

The agent bristled, but put his phone to his ear and stalked away. April seized a deep cleansing breath to center herself and focus again on Antonio. Now she pushed the curtain aside. “Okay, then. I’m ordering an echocardiogram to get a better picture of what’s happening with your heart.”

Antonio’s face paled. “Doc, be straight. Is it bad? Am I going to die? Is my football career over already?”

“Let’s see the results of the tests first, then I’ll have a cardiologist take a look at you, too.” She put a hand on his knee. “If it’s what I suspect it is, with treatment and observation, you’ll still have a long life.”

He gave a nod, then cocked his head to the side. “And football?”

“You can still have that, too.” She made more notes on his chart. “But let’s wait and find out what the tests say.”

She sent him a reassuring smile and stepped beyond the curtain. As she did so, a man grabbed her and put a knife to her throat. “Where’s the drug closet?”

Great. It was going to be one of those days.

* * *

ZACH HARRISON FINISHED his last phone call and glanced back at the entrance to the emergency room. Coach Petrullo had called to check on Antonio’s condition. “The overzealous doctor is running tests, but Antonio will be on the field good as new tomorrow,” he’d assured the man. He only hoped he hadn’t overstated the truth. The kid had to be okay. He was young and active. His football career was about to begin. Fate wouldn’t be so cruel as to take it away. Right?

Zach slipped his phone into his suit coat pocket and walked through the open automatic doors. He needed Antonio in action, but he needed the kid healthy even more. He regretted how callous he’d probably come across to Dr. Sprader earlier. He’d noticed how she’d barely kept her contempt under wraps, and he wanted to go back in time and change that. He wasn’t that kind of guy. He could be nice. A sweetheart, even. Though he’d been accused of using that to his advantage, rather than being sincere.

Shaking off all thoughts of his ex-wife, he practiced what he was going to say to the cute doctor and headed toward where Antonio waited. He saw the doc talking to another patient, a man who seemed to be standing too close to her. Zach paused and assessed the situation. Not only was the guy standing too close, the knife in his hand meant he was a threat. Zach couldn’t spot the security guard he’d seen earlier in the hallways. He knew what he had to do. He’d had self-defense training for situations like this.

He sauntered up to the curtained area. The patient noted him and waved the knife. “Stop. Or I’ll slice her throat. I swear I will.”

Zach held up his hands. “I’m not going to stop you. I’m only here for my client.” He pointed to Antonio, who watched with wide eyes. He looked as if he were ready to jump off the bed and pummel the guy. Zach waved him off. “Why don’t you tell us what you want?”

The grizzled man wore clothes that smelled as if they hadn’t been washed in weeks. “I want to stop the pain.”

Dr. Sprader struggled in the guy’s arms. “I told you last time that you don’t need the drugs, Harley.”

So the good doctor knew the man. Probably had a history of coming into the ER. Zach saw how Harley’s grip on the knife was loosening the more they talked. His knuckles were no longer white from strain. Instead, he flexed his fingers on the handle. If Zach could keep them talking, maybe he could disarm the guy.

“Harley.” The man turned to look at Zach. “What kind of drugs will help you? Maybe if you tell me, then I can go get them.”

The doctor’s eyes flared with emotion, probably anger and even shock. Harley licked his lips. “Oxy works best. Takes the edge off.”

Antonio shifted in the bed, drawing Harley’s attention to him. And as that happened, Zach rushed forward and did a roundhouse kick to knock the knife out of the guy’s hand and send it skittering across the floor. Dr. Sprader used the man’s shock to grab his arm and twist it behind his back. She pushed him facedown onto the hospital bed. “Go get security,” she told Zach.

He nodded and ran to the front desk. When he returned, he saw that Dr. Sprader had help from a few nurses to keep the man subdued. The security guard came and took the guy away. Zach hurried to Antonio’s side. “Are you okay?”

“Where did you learn a kick like that?”

Zach gave a shrug. “High school. I was a puny kid with a target on my back. Had to learn how to protect myself, so Pops took me to self-defense classes.” He looked over at Dr. Sprader. “How about you? Are you okay?”

She gave a short nod as she reached up to touch the side of her neck. A small trickle of blood had stained the neckline of her pastel blue scrubs. She seemed to be barely containing what he figured was disgust. “Thanks for the assist.”

Obviously, his heroics hadn’t changed her first impression of him. “Any time.” He turned to Antonio. “Let’s start those tests and we’ll find out what’s going on with you, so that we can get out of here.”

* * *

PAGE KOSINSKI, APRIL’S best friend, found her sitting on the floor of the women’s restroom. April had hoped that she would have a few more moments of refuge before resuming her duties. Just another five minutes alone would have been great. Instead, she looked at Page, who had squatted down beside her and was checking the cut on her neck from Harley. “I told you that you needed to report him the last time he came here looking for drugs.”

April slapped her friend’s hand away. “It’s no big deal. I’m fine. Harley got arrested and can now get the help he needs.”

“But what if that guy hadn’t been around to save your butt? What if Harley had really hurt you this time?” Page took a seat on the floor next to her. “You give people too many chances. When are you going to start putting yourself first?”

“Don’t you think I’ve been sitting here asking myself the same thing?” She paused and asked Page, “Did you get a glance at my hero?”

Page waggled her eyebrows and waved her hand in front of her face. “Hot.”

“He’s also arrogant and too sure of himself.” April winced as she got to her feet and stretched. “What am I doing here, anyway?”

“Working your shift like you always do.”

April nodded. “Exactly. I told myself that when I defeated cancer, I would change. That I would go out there and do everything I’ve always wanted to.” She held her hands out to her sides. “And what have I done? I’m back to working extra shifts and sleeping in the on-call room instead of going home. And why? Because it’s more convenient to just stay here. I can’t keep doing this.”

“I’ve been telling you that for months.” Page rose to her feet and washed her hands in the sink. She tugged a few paper towels from the dispenser and dried her fingers. She crushed the towels into a ball and tossed them in the trash can. “So what are you going to do?”

April peered into the mirror and stared at her reflection. She ran a hand through her curly hair. Before breast cancer had taken away her hair, it had been thin, straight and whitish blond. Now that it had grown back, it was honey-colored, coarse and curly. Sometimes she looked at herself and wondered where the woman she’d once been had gone, not just physically, but emotionally, as well. She had been bold. Sassy. And unflappable. Now she worried about everything. Self-doubt tied her hands and kept her stationary, rather than taking action and doing something. She gave herself a nod. “It’s time.”

Page raised her eyebrows at this. “Time for what?”

April turned and looked her squarely in the eye. “It’s time to start living.”

She pushed herself away from the sink and left the bathroom. Page dogged her at her heels. “You’re talking about that second-chance list in your journal?”

“I’ve got my new body, so why not a new perspective?” She checked her cell phone and saw that she had four missed calls, two of them from her supervisor. She punched the number and glanced at Page. “Dinner later? Maybe call Sherri and see if she can leave Agent Hottie for the night and join us.”

Page patted her shoulder and went briskly along the hallway to return to her own job. April’s supervisor answered on the second ring. “Darryl, I’m fine. Just needed a few minutes.”

“Well, get your butt back on the floor. We’re swamped.”

She bit her lip and took a deep breath. “About that. It’s time we talked about the vacation time coming to me.”

* * *

ZACH FOLLOWED THE aide who pushed Antonio in the wheelchair from the cardiology department back to the emergency room. The aide left them in a different curtained area from before, and Zach took a seat in a metal folding chair next to the bed where Antonio was now. Checking his phone, Zach saw several texts, many of them from clients and one from his mom’s day nurse. She was asking him if he would be home at a reasonable hour, or should she arrange for an evening nurse to arrive before her shift was over. His fingers flew as he told her he’d call her once they left the hospital.

The curtain was drawn aside, and Dr. Sprader entered the cozy alcove. She looked different from before, though he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. She wore the same pastel blue scrubs with the bloodstain on the collar. Her messy curls hadn’t changed, and her face remained void of cosmetics. Not that she needed them. Her skin seemed to glow without any enhancement, and her blue eyes snapped with whatever thoughts danced in her head. She barely acknowledged him, before focusing on Antonio. “The results have come in, and I’ve consulted with Dr. Hall, a cardiologist on staff.” She took a seat on the edge of the bed. “You have mitral valve prolapse.”

Antonio clutched at his chest. Zach reached over and patted the boy’s hand. “Doc, am I dying?”

She shook her head. “Your heart valve is leaky, which causes a murmur. Things like stress or overexertion will aggravate the situation, giving you palpitations and chest pain.” She passed several business cards to Antonio. “Here are a few cardiologists in the area. Choose one to follow up with. You’re going to want a good one on your team, so I’d recommend Dr. Hall, but feel free to ask around for recommendations.” She shifted her attention to him, and Zach tried not to stare. “Questions?”

Was she single? He doubted it. Women like her with beauty and smarts tended to be unavailable. He cleared his throat. “So he can keep playing, then?”

“With monitoring, medication and some lifestyle changes, there’s no reason he can’t live with this until the off-season. But then I’d recommend surgery at that point.”