THE DAY ARRIVED too early, and so did the patients. By the time Jack had finally managed to doze off, a stray rooster outside had been crowing its morning welcome, very obnoxiously. “Damn,” he’d muttered, refusing to open his eyes to the light creeping in through a parting in the curtain. He was used to rough nights, but the one he’d finally escaped had been rougher than any that had assaulted him in the past five years. Things he hadn’t dreamed before, hadn’t thought of since then had come back to him. And new things…
This morning he felt worse than if he’d drunk out half a tavern. Except he hadn’t drunk. Didn’t touch the damned stuff because he knew that if he did, he’d never stop. He’d get himself lost in the bottle and never find his way back out. Probably wouldn’t even want to because… Too much. Too much Evangeline here. Too much Alice. His home. His family. Too much of everything that had ever meant anything to him that had been gone in the blink of an eye while he’d slept in. Unforgivable.
He’d promised Evangeline he’d take her to the reservation. Had assured her and reassured her because she hadn’t liked making that drive by herself. Yet when the time had come, he’d made another choice. To sleep. And maybe Winona was right when she’d said that the village had taken too much of him. But he’d allowed that to happen. Maybe as an excuse to stay away since he hadn’t been happy in his marriage. Or maybe he’d liked being of service. He didn’t remember now. Didn’t remember anything except the look of hurt on Evangeline’s face that morning when he’d rolled over in bed to go back to sleep after she’d just begged him to drive her.
The last look. And he’d never said goodbye. Not to Evangeline. Not to Alice. “Alice,” he whispered, his voice trembling. He hadn’t kissed his little girl goodbye. That was what hurt the most.
So now he deserved to live with the memories of what he’d done. He also deserved all the ghosts that haunted him, and to be reminded every day what a waste he was. What a failure.
Jack sat up on the edge of the bed and dropped his feet to the cold wooden floor. He braced himself to stand, then looked out the bedroom window, saw the sun. He hated the sun when he felt this way. Hated life. Then he stood, tugged on his jeans and shirt, stretched, grabbed his personal backpack and headed down the hall, trying to psych himself up for what he had to face this morning. More patients would be waiting. At least twenty of them who’d come yesterday but had started a list for today when they hadn’t been seen.
It was always like that at Saka’am. Too much need, not enough of anything to go around. That was why Evangeline had chosen to return here to live. She’d been a social worker who’d wanted to make a difference. She’d had ideals. Dreams. Hopes for the future of her little hometown. Hopes for the future of her people. And now…
He looked at himself in the mirror, then looked away. There was nothing there he wanted to see. “You ready for work?” he called, when he heard Carrie’s footsteps in the hall.
“Yep. Someone left muffins and coffee for us, in case you’re interested.”
Her cheerful voice annoyed him. And when he stepped back into the hall, the optimism shining on her face annoyed him almost as much. “You go on. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Are you always so grumpy in the morning?” she persisted.
“Usually.”
“That’s too bad, because mornings are the best part of the day. You know, new outlook, new opportunities. Wake up on the right side of the bed some morning and you might find you like it.”
“What I like is two cups of coffee and solitude in the morning.”
“Well, I can accommodate you on both. Coffee’s in the kitchen and solitude starts right now.” With that, she walked straight to the front door, Bella trailing along after her, then went outside.
The door banged behind her and Jack flinched. He dragged himself to the kitchen for his coffee. Damn morning, he thought as he plodded back to the bedroom to pick up his belongings. Stupid, damn morning.
* * *
Heading into his own exam area, Jack pushed back the curtains and was greeted by Arthur Two Crows and Bella, sitting there looking silly happy. Great, he thought. Can’t have the girl, but I get her damned dog as a consolation prize. “Carrie,” he yelled across the room. “Would you please come get your dog? She’s in my exam area.”
“Her name’s Bella,” Carrie called back.
* * *
“Carrie mentioned you weren’t in the best mood this morning,” Palloton said, stepping outside on the stoop to stand next to Jack, who was taking a break.
“Bad memories.”
“I wondered about that. In fact, I’ve wondered why you even came here. Figured you were just into a harder than ever punishment phase.”
Jack looked out into the middle of the road where Chief Charley had taken up his post, standing there, arms folded across his chest, still scowling, still watching. “Actually, I was hoping it wouldn’t be so hard. You know that saying about time healing all wounds.”
“Only if you let it, Wiwa. Look, last time we talked—what was it? A month before you came back. Anyway, you told me then you needed something different, and I told you to be a heron. In Native American cultures, the heron is a symbol of good luck and patience. I like that interpretation. But in some areas the heron is a restless loner, probably because herons in nature are solitary creatures.” He chuckled. “Except during breeding times. So, when I told you to be a heron, I didn’t mean the one who is the restless loner. I meant the one who is a symbol of good luck and patience. Because that’s who you are. And you’ll see that again once you become the heron.”
“Did they teach you that in law school, Palloton?” Jack asked bitterly.
Palloton laughed. “No. That’s what life has taught me so far. And it’s taught you the same thing. You simply can’t see it right now.”
“What I see is what I ought to see. Nothing more.”
“Those were difficult days. But you’re tough enough to get through them. If you let yourself.”
“Easy to say, but everything I’m doing lately feels like I’m lost, with no direction. I knew I had to come back to face it. To face myself. But it’s not working.”
“It’s about the climb, Jack. The struggles may knock you down right now, but you’ve got to keep trying because at some point you’re going to make it to the top. And I promise you, the view, when you get there, will be worth the effort. That’s where you’ll see the true heron.”
“If I get there.”
“The question is, do you want to get there?”
“I didn’t for a long time. But now…” He shrugged. Shook his head. Let out a heavy sigh.
“Well, Carrie said you were out late last night. You should have called me, Wiwa. No way I would have let you do what you were doing alone. In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve got your back. Always have, always will.”
“And I appreciate that. But last night…no big deal. Just couldn’t sleep so I went for a long walk.”
“You went there, didn’t you? Where it happened?”
“I might have.” Jack patted his old friend on the shoulder as he stepped around him. “And as far as your heron goes, maybe you should have called me Nko’o instead of Wiwa. It means single or solitary, and that’s the heron I am now.”
“Only if you want to be,” Palloton said, turning to look at Charley. He acknowledged the man with the briefest of nods and then returned to his desk. “Oh, and I’ll be in Marrell week after next. A civil suit between property owners. Might stay there a few days, especially if you want to go climb Stonewall or Jasper Ridge. Sound interesting?”
“Maybe,” he said, his mood beginning to lighten. “If I have time.”
“Sounds like fun to me,” Carrie said, in passing.
“You climb?” Palloton asked her.
She shook her head. “Not yet. But Jack’s going to teach me.”
“Well, you’re in great hands. He’s the best around. Nobody I know could ever outclimb him. Including me. And I’m pretty good.”
“Give me some time,” she joked, “and maybe I’ll give you two a run for your money.”
“You’re going to have to develop some pretty good skills, especially where Jack’s concerned. Once you get him on the ropes, he’s a natural.”
A natural, Jack thought. Maybe once. But so much of him was gone now, he didn’t know what was left. Yet as he looked at Carrie, who was bubbling with enthusiasm, and so happy to be doing what she was doing, he wondered if some of the moving forward she was so keen on would work for him. Because where he was now was a place he didn’t want to be. Not anymore. But he’d gone on so long being this way he wasn’t sure he knew how to get out of it. Or what would be out there for him if he did, somehow, manage to move forward. “Will there be a wager involved?” he asked Palloton, finally giving in to a smile.
“When was there not a wager involved?” his friend answered. Then, turning to Carrie, he winked. “I always let him win.”
“You let me win?” Jack laughed out loud. “In your dreams, my friend. In your dreams.”
* * *
The trip back to Marrell was quiet. Jack didn’t talk much. Mostly, general chitchat. Or about climbing. His mood was certainly better than it had been earlier and for that Carrie was grateful, as she hadn’t looked forward to the long, bumpy ride in his gloomy cloud. And so the time passed, not quickly but not in discomfort either. But when they turned onto Marrell’s main road the first thing they saw was the cloud of black smoke hanging over a crowd of people that had gathered in the street and were simply standing there. The second thing they saw were the last of the embers of what had formerly been…her apartment.
It took a minute for it to sink in that she was looking at the ashes of practically everything she owned in this world. When she finally did realize it, the only word she could manage was a very quiet “No.” This couldn’t be happening. Another shove backward. Not again.
Jack’s response was to take hold of her hand, then hold tight. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll help you get through this, Carrie. I’m not sure what it’s going to take, but you can count on me. I promise.” He squeezed her hand even tighter, then scooted closer to her, as close as the seat divider would allow, and put his arm around her shoulder. “Maybe there’s something left.”
“I didn’t have much to begin with, so I doubt it. I mean, except for Bella, my old truck and what I have in my backpack…everything in there was my entire life.” No, she didn’t have much in terms of possessions. Clothes, a couple of mementoes from her past. Her school books… Still, this was her life gone up in flames, the way it always had. And she was angry and hurt and scared because this should have been a fresh start. “So, what do I do now?” she asked, glad for the hand that still held hers because she was so close to tears she didn’t want to shed. Those tears would mean defeat, and she wouldn’t be defeated. Although she felt so close to it right now. Which made her appreciate Jack’s reassurance, even though she didn’t have anything left to be reassured about.
“For starters, move in with me. My lifestyle is pretty…sparse. But I’ve got a spare room and a bed, and it’s yours, if that’s what you want to do.”
His gesture touched her. Every time she’d been kicked to the ground before, there’d been no one there to help her back up. But that was what Jack was doing. He was holding out his hand to her and she didn’t know how to respond to that. “That might work for a day or two, but what about next week? Or next month? What do I do about that? I mean, how can I even take your course? My books were in there, and I can’t afford to replace them.”
Jack moved even closer to her to allow her to put her head on his shoulder. Which she did, without hesitation. “We’ll figure it out, Carrie. I know I’m not very good at the friendship thing, but I want to help you.”
“Because you want me in Saka’am?”
“Because I want you to fulfill something in yourself that I’m not able to fulfill in myself.”
“I…I don’t know what to say,” she said, swiping back tears that finally let go. Tears she no longer wished to fight. “Except…do you have indoor plumbing?” She was so discouraged yet so grateful to have Jack step in for her the way he was, even if she didn’t understand it. Maybe, though, she didn’t have to. Maybe it was a simple gesture of kindness…the kindness Palloton had spoken of. The kindness the people of Saka’am knew in him. The real Jack Hanson.
He chuckled. “Electricity, too. The whole package. Including an extra toothbrush, if you need it.”
“That one I’ve got. Along with one set of clothes, my hairbrush and an extra pair of shoes.”
“Then that’s your start,” he said. “And whatever you don’t have, or will need right away, we’ll get it.”
It was a nice offer, and she desperately wanted it to be sincere. But in her experience nice offers always turned into bad things. The philanthropist who’d offered to put her through nursing school but had expected favors, which she wouldn’t grant. The police sergeant who’d offered to put in a promotion recommendation for her if she covered up an impropriety of his, which she wouldn’t do. The foster mother who’d offered her a permanent home in exchange for what amounted to little more than slavery, which she’d refused to submit herself to. Yes, nice offers on the surface that came with all sorts of consequences and, right now, she didn’t want another consequence to face. Especially not from Jack.
“I’ve never had anybody just offer me anything without wanting something in return,” she said, still swatting at her tears. “And I have nothing to give in return. So, while I appreciate what you’re trying to do, I’m really good at starting over. I’ve had lots of practice. Which means I can handle this on my own, Jack. You don’t have to be bothered with me.”
“I’m not bothered with you, Carrie. I know you think I am, and I’m sure I come off that way, but I’m not, and you don’t have to handle this on your own. I can help you. And your dog.”
“Her name’s Bella.” Carrie took one final look at the burnt pile of her life, then shut her eyes to it. It was time to move on—again. But this time in an unforeseen direction.
* * *
Jack brought his truck to a stop in front of his cabin. Like so many of the other cabins around there, it was log with a green tin roof and a substantial set of steps up to the front porch. It was two stories high, surrounded by nothing except grass and prairie shrubs. “Can you cook?” he asked, as he helped her out.
She looked around, liked what she saw. The openness, especially. She’d never lived anywhere so open before, and as far as she could see in every direction there were no cars or people or buildings. Just nature. To a city girl, so much nature all around her was wonderful. Liberating. She drew in a deep breath of fresh Montana air and savored the essence of it for a moment before she let it back out. “Not really. I can open cans, and I’m good with the microwave, but in my life…” She shrugged. “Never had the chance to learn. This is amazing, Jack. I expected…well, not this.”
He laughed. “Not everything reflects my personality. I liked this place when I was a kid. Saw potential here. It was always in rough shape, but when I got the chance to buy it, I did, and fixed it up. Some things are worth the effort to bring back.”
“Is that how you see me? As someone worth the effort to bring back?”
“I see you as someone who’s worth a lot more than she thinks she is. Someone who doesn’t see the potential in herself that I see.”
“Do you really see that much potential in me?” It pleased her to know he did because that validated her and she desperately wanted to be validated by him.
“Maybe not in your domestic skills, but as a medic you have what it takes, Carrie. It may be a little rough around the edges at times, but it’s all there. Instinct, skill, desire. All of it. But since you can’t cook…” He cocked an amused eyebrow. “Any chance you can clean?”
She was over the moon happy he saw that in her when no one else ever had. That meant he was looking at her closely, and she liked it that he was. “Yes. I’m probably not as organized as you’d prefer, but I’m tidy, and I do like to keep everything clean. Living on the streets in filth will do that to you. Oh, and I’ll do the laundry. Not that I’ll have much of it myself. But it goes along with that whole cleanliness thing… Having clean clothes when I grew up was a luxury, and I don’t take washing them for granted now.”
“Laundry’s good. And what about coffee?” he asked.
“I make great coffee.” OK, that was a lie. Her coffee was horrible. She knew it. But she didn’t want to let him down. Besides, if she practiced, she’d improve. That was what her life had been about—practicing to improve.
“Then that’s the arrangement. Cleaning and coffee.”
“And you throw in everything else? Seems like I’m getting the best of this deal.”
“I’m happy with what I’m getting,” he said, as he opened the front door. “If we stick to the agreement, everything will be fine.”
“What you’re getting is me, and I’m not easy. In fact, I lied about the coffee. I can’t make it. It always ends up tasting like mud.”
“Did you lie about the laundry?” he asked, fighting back a smile.
“No. That’s something I can do.”
“Then let’s make that the agreement. You get the laundry and the cleaning, I get everything else.”
“You’re too kind,” she said, finally feeling better about the situation. This was the part of Jack she really liked. The lighter, friendlier, understanding side. Not that she didn’t like the darker parts but they were more difficult to deal with as he wouldn’t let her close to them. This part, though, was lovely. He made her feel cared for, and cared about. Made her feel like she mattered to him in ways other than being his student, or someone he had work plans for somewhere down the road.
Most of all, it made her feel like she belonged here. And for someone who’d never belonged anywhere before, that was an overwhelming feeling. One that caused her to hope for things she’d never dared hope for. So, maybe everything would turn out better than she could have ever expected but had always wanted.
“Let me hear you say that after you’ve lived with me a couple of days.”
“You’re not that bad,” she said, heading for what she believed was the kitchen. “There used to be this cat in my neighborhood. If she saw you coming near her, she’d puff all up, try to make herself larger than she was, hoping that would scare you off. It was the only defense she had against people she didn’t want around her, people she was afraid of. But if you could get near, the puff went down, and she’d snuggle on your lap and purr. Palloton may think you’re a heron, but I think you’re that pussycat. So, let me try the coffee. I might get lucky.” She giggled as Bella bounded into the cabin, went straight to Jack, then leaned against his leg. “And it looks like Bella thinks she’s getting pretty lucky, too.”
“Get your damned dog off me,” he said. “That’s the other part of this arrangement. You do the laundry and the cleaning, and you keep your dog away from me. If you can do that, we’ll get along.”
Carrie smiled as she coaxed Bella away. Amidst the shock of losing everything, and the fear of what was ahead for her, she was actually happy. And if it had been appropriate in any way, she would have thrown her arms around his neck and given him a great big kiss. Again. But the first time he’d called it inappropriate and had said they couldn’t do it again. So she wouldn’t. Although she really wanted to.
* * *
“I haven’t done as much with it as I hope to in the future, but it’s clean, warm and the roof doesn’t leak.” Jack stood back and let Carrie enter her new bedroom. It had a bed and a table lamp but no table. There was a stack of hangers in the closet, a mirror on the back of the door and a plastic bin with drawers, possibly for her undies. He’d intended this room for a study, after he got his own decorated, but he hadn’t done that yet. It was pretty much the same as this one, without the storage bin and the mirror. Most of his clothes were folded in cardboard boxes and his table lamp had a crack in its porcelain base.
None of that mattered, though, as his goal was to exist, not to live. Except now he did wish he had a little more to offer Carrie.
“This is nice,” she said, dropping her bag of new clothes on the bed, along with the two scrub outfits she’d borrowed from the hospital.
“Not really. I don’t need much, and I don’t care what I surround myself with. So I keep it basic. But if there’s anything you need…”
“I’m fine,” she said. “I’m a lot like you in that I don’t have a lot of needs either. You don’t get to have needs when you’re bounced around the way I always was. So this is good.”
“Well, there’s an extra set of towels in the bathroom…sorry, we’re going to have to share the bathroom. But, please, stay away from the coffeepot.” They would get along, he decided. They had to. Because in Carrie he captured a glimpse of something he’d never had, but had always wanted. Optimism. She simply bounced back no matter what. He didn’t, and he hoped some of that might rub off on him.
“You don’t have to rub it in,” she said, dropping down on the bed. “I know my limitations. But I overcome them, Jack. One of these days you’re going to be telling me how I make the best coffee you’ve ever had.”
“You’ve got a long way to go on that one, Carrie. To be honest, I don’t predict good things.”
“Yeah, well, just wait. And, in the meantime, I saw the log pile outside. Which means we heat by wood?”
“Not sure yet. The house doesn’t have a central heat source, and right now a wood fire works, but I may have to upgrade. Believe it or not, I like my creature comforts.”
“Better watch yourself, Jack. You’re giving away too much of yourself to me.”
He chuckled. “Trust me. You know nothing.”
“Trust me, I know more than you think.”
Which scared him. But not as badly as it might have a few days ago. “Only if I confirm what you’re thinking. Which I won’t.”
“Whatever you say, pussycat. So, can I go chop you some wood?”
“You know how to handle an ax?”
“I’m a tactical paramedic. I’ve had to knock down a few doors in my time. So, yes, an ax was required.”
Jack suddenly smiled, picturing his intrepid little paramedic with an ax. It was a cute image. Carrie all serious and determined, carrying that thing at her side, looking like a miniature lumberjack. His pulse picked up a beat or two, not in a sexual sense but, rather, in the sense that she was finding her way in more and more. And in such unique ways. “Well, I’ve got logs out back that need splitting, if you’re serious.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “I’d love to split your logs.”
That little bit of a flirt was more than he could stand. He had to get out of there. Go somewhere to regroup. To work. Yes, working would take his mind off, well, everything. So he hopped into his truck, sped away from his house, away from Carrie, taking care not to look in the rearview mirror lest the light in the guest bedroom window pulled him back. And he did want to be pulled back. Which was why he wouldn’t allow it. Because no matter how his heart picked up a beat or two when she was near, no matter how much he was attracted, intrigued and caught up by her, he couldn’t have what he wanted. That was his lot in life now. He accepted that, even in his weaker moments when he allowed Carrie to get in. There was no battle here. Nothing to win.
* * *
“Sleep well?” Jack asked Carrie, as he passed her in the hall the next morning. He was on his way out of the bathroom, hair still wet from his shower, towel wrapped around his middle, bare-chested, wondering if he should have dressed since he now had a roommate. In deference to that, he had donned the towel.
She was wearing an old T-shirt of his. It hung to her knees, was several sizes too large, and fell off her left shoulder. Sexy as hell. Something he didn’t want to see, didn’t want to tempt him, but he couldn’t help himself. He was tempted. And more.
“Two hours wasn’t enough,” she said, giving him a bold stare. “Could have used a couple more, but you take what you can get when they call you in early.” She tilted her head as she did an obvious scan of his body. “You’ve got abs, Jack. Great abs. Do you work out?”
Evangeline had always teased him for being a little on the soft side. Told him she liked her men a little tighter. But he’d never done anything about it then. Only after her death… “I did in Phoenix. Health club several times a week, all that kind of thing. Here, I just work harder.”
“Well, hard work pays off.” She smiled as she slid past him. “Now, for an attempt at coffee.”
“Please, no,” he groaned.
“It’ll be good.”
“It’ll be good…at the hospital.”
She stopped, then turned around. To get a better look. He knew that. Knew exactly what she was doing, even though he couldn’t see it. But he could feel it, feel the burning scrutiny of her eyes, and suddenly it aroused him. Visibly. In his towel. He was glad his back was to her, not his front, as he didn’t want her to see her effect on him. “Just pour some orange juice, OK?” he said, heading down the hall to his room, hoping the sweat didn’t start beading on his forehead until he was out of her sight. “I’ll meet you outside in half an hour, and we can go get your truck. And maybe some good coffee.”
“Don’t judge my coffee, Jack, until you’ve tried it.”
Was it him, or was she being suggestive? He was so out of practice he didn’t know. But he didn’t hang around to find out. Instead, he ducked into his room, shut the door and leaned his back against it, willing his pulse to even out. This wasn’t good. Not good at all.
* * *
“It’s only a scratch,” Carrie reassured the curly-headed little boy called Jamie, who would not look at her. He’d kept his arms folded tightly across his chest, staring at the floor, refusing to say a word for the fifteen minutes she’d been working with him in the ER. “All I need you to do is let me wash it, put some cream on it and then a bandage.”
He shook his head, and Carrie looked over at Jamie’s mother, who was so wrapped up in something on her cell phone she was totally unaware of what was happening with her son. “Mrs. Albright, I really need some help getting Jamie to cooperate,” she said, fighting the urge to yank the phone from the mother’s hand and smash it on the floor. Her real mother had been that way—never in the moment, never involved. And it made Carrie feel bad for Jamie because she knew what it was like to be ignored.
“Just a minute,” Mrs. Albright said, waving Carrie off.
“I don’t have a minute,” Carrie said, her irritation now turning to anger. This whole procedure should have been finished ten minutes ago and she should have been on to her next patient by now. There were three in the queue, waiting for her. But here she was, stuck with a mom who didn’t care and a scared little boy. “I have other patients who need my assistance, and you’re taking up their time.” She bit her lips to keep from saying what she wanted to say, that the woman was being an insensitive cow. Back in Chicago she’d have said it—and more. But in Marrell…she had to be different here. Had to be better. People expected that of her. Jack expected that of her.
The woman held up a finger this time to put Carrie off, and that was when the Chicago in her got riled. Instead of saying anything, she marched over to Mrs. Albright, removed the cell phone from her hand, clicked it off, then handed it back. “Cell phones are not allowed in the ER due to all the equipment we use,” she said, forcing the politest voice she could muster.
“With all due respect, Nurse,” the woman began, as her face turned red.
“I’m not a nurse. I’m a paramedic. And with all due respect to you, ma’am, your son needs your attention. I want to bandage his arm, and he’s refusing to let me.”
“If you can’t handle putting a bandage on a ten-year-old boy, maybe you don’t belong here,” Mrs. Albright retorted.
Carrie bristled, and fought to keep herself from jumping way off the professional spectrum to take this woman on personally, but she didn’t. Instead, she swallowed hard, drew in a deep breath, and forced a painful smile to her face. “What I need is to have you convince him to let me take care of his arm. It’s a scratch. Not deep. No stitches required. And it will take me two minutes. After that, you can get out of here, and as soon as you’re in the lobby, you can use your cell phone again.”
That seemed to be the convincing argument, because Mrs. Albright stood, crossed over to Jamie, took hold of his arm and held it out for Carrie. “There,” the woman said. “Fix it. Now! I have a phone call to make.”
And that was what Carrie did. Within those promised two minutes, she bandaged the scratch and Mrs. Albright and Jamie were out of there. She watched Jamie being pulled down the hall by his mother, and her heart went out to the boy, remembering the many times she’d been pulled like that.
“I heard she was giving you problems,” Jack said, stepping up behind her.
Carrie’s hands went into the air in mock surrender, and she smiled. “Promise, I didn’t hurt her. Didn’t yell, didn’t slap the phone out of her hand. In fact, I acted quite…Marrell.”
“As opposed to acting what?”
“Chicago. There’s a difference. In Chicago, you get to be a little more…forward. People expect it, tolerate it. In Marrell, well, I haven’t been here long enough to know, but I’ll bet they expect proper manners most of the time.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, last time she brought Jamie in, I did break her cell phone. I didn’t mean to, but as I was trying to persuade her to hold Jamie down, she wouldn’t let go of the damn thing, and I accidentally bumped her and it hit the floor. Which worked out to her advantage, because the one I bought her was much better than the one she had before. So, as long as she walked out of here with the new one intact, everything’s good. And she’ll be the worst one you’ll encounter tonight. Promise.”
“I’m a cop, remember? I’ve encountered a lot worse than Mrs. Albright and, on occasion, brought them to their knees.”
“Is that a threat?”
She laughed. “Nope. Just adding a notation to my résumé.”
“Bringing someone to their knees. Yep, just the qualifications I’m looking for in my rescue team. So, about that…” He held out a bag for her. “Your books. I replaced them.”
“You didn’t have to. I have a little money, I could have—”
“Like I keep telling you, I’m serving my own interests here, Carrie. I want you to succeed because I want to keep you here. Hence the books. Oh, and I have an outfitter coming in tomorrow. He’ll get you set up with the equipment you’ll need.” He bent low to her ear. “And I’ve paid for that, too.”
“Jack, this worries me. I don’t want to get in so deep, in case I don’t work out.”
“Do you ever not work out, Carrie?”
“In everything I’ve ever wanted…no. I don’t. Haven’t even come close in a lot of it.”
“Well, unless you do something stupid to screw up this opportunity, it’s going to work out. You’ll get what you want, I’ll get what I want…”
But what she wanted was clearly changing. Into what, she wasn’t sure. But the inclinations were getting stronger, and she wondered if there was any way they could work. She didn’t know. Didn’t have a lot of hope either. Because she didn’t think his intentions were the same as hers. Maybe they had been at first. Not now, though, as hers were certainly on the move.
Nice dream, though, she thought as she showed her next patient into the examining room. One that, pretty much like everything else in her life, clearly wasn’t going to work out.