Love By Accident (2 page)

He tried to ask the passing nurses, but though he heard his voice, they didn't seem to. Ah, hell! He ran down the hallway, frantically looking for a bathroom. Seeing a sign on the wall, he raced for it but he wept when he tried to push it open and instead almost fell through the other side.

Stumbling, he made it to the sink. He saw himself in the mirror. So he was alive, right? Behind him a toilet flushed. A guy walked out, right up to the very sink Gil was standing at and washed his hands. Knees buckling, Gil slid to the ground.

Fuck, he really was dead. Then where the hell was the bright light everyone talked about? Or, considering what he'd done, was he even going to see a light, or was he doomed to go the other direction?

"God, if you're listening, I'm sorry. I was an ass, I know that. I hurt the people I loved most. I was selfish and stupid and--"

There it was. The bathroom doorway became a blinding, pearly portal. He came to his feet. He walked toward it and warmth enveloped him until he was wrapped in it like a big cozy hug. Yet as great as it felt, he knew he couldn't go. Not yet. He had to right the wrongs but was it up to him, he wondered? Did he even have the choice?

The portal shimmered and he knew he did.

He thought of Matt lying on that bed, of Lauren, broken and in pain, running away.

"I can't come. I have to make sure they're okay."

He wasn't sure to whom he was speaking, but he figured when the bathroom door returned to its grey self someone had heard. He reached for the handle, nearly fell again.

"Fuck, this is going to take some getting used to," he muttered as he headed for Matt's room.

ONE

Jasper, Alberta, Canada.

Four years later

"I'm leaving."

The softly spoken words ripped through Lauren McKinnon with the ferocity of a raging blizzard, leaving her shaken and cold.

"When?" There was no point in asking why? She'd learned from bitter experience that answer never came.

"The day after tomorrow."

She swallowed hard. "So soon?"

Ted Hardy, Human/Wildlife Conflict Specialist for Jasper National Park, was her rock, even if he didn't know it. She hadn't known him when she'd moved back to the mountains. She'd enjoyed being on the coast, had adored Vancouver Island. She'd had time with her sister, Carmen, time to, if not heal the wounds, at least allow them to scab over.

But the mountains were her home and she'd finally listened to their calling. Waterton wasn't a possibility, but Jasper was far enough away to maintain anonymity while once again living in a mountain town. Waitressing wasn't what she'd dreamed of nor worked for, but it paid her mortgage. And it had allowed her to meet the rangers and their staff, to form friendships. Well, as much as relationships could be forged considering nobody knew her real story or that she was as qualified as they were.

She'd never even told Ted.

God, she couldn't believe she was losing him. The thought of him leaving was ripping open old wounds, but she made sure Ted didn't see it. She was good at putting up a brave front; she'd had years of experience after all.

"Kiddo, you knew I was thinking of retiring."

She forced her lips to smile. "Fifty-seven isn't retirement age for most people."

"It is when you've been working since you were fifteen."

"You'll be bored and you know it," she muttered. She shook her head, blew out a breath. So much for the brave front. "I'll get us more coffee," she said.

Lauren grabbed the pot from behind the counter. Juliet, the waitress on shift to close, didn't even look up from the latest celebrity gossip magazine she was reading.

Ted waited until their cups were doctored with the required cream and sugar before he reached over the red checkered tablecloth and wrapped his large hand around hers.

"This isn't goodbye."

Then why did it feel like it? She kept stirring long after the coffee had lightened with the cream, it kept her hands busy, gave her something else to focus on. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

His smile was sad. "I hate goodbyes."

She took a sip of coffee. Though it tasted bitter, she swallowed it along with the pain squeezing her heart at the thought of another goodbye. It wasn't as final as the hardest two she'd had to say four years ago, but it didn't lessen the hurt.

He came to his feet, pulled her up and wrapped her in a fatherly hug. His wool vest scratched her cheek while the classy smell of Fahrenheit filled her senses. It wrapped around her, made her feel safe, cherished. Loved. What would she do without Ted?

It was Thursday night and the Mountainview Café was empty except for them and Juliet. Nobody sat on the red vinyl-covered stools facing the long counter. The chairs around the twenty-some tables were tucked in for the night. The black and white photos on the walls, which depicted the town through the last few decades, watched silently as Lauren leaned into Ted.

"Are you going to the coast like you always said you would?" she asked when they'd once again taken their seats.

"Yep, the warmer climate will be better for my arthritis."

She snorted. This time her smile was genuine. "You don't have arthritis. You're the healthiest man I know." Her grin wavered. "Is it selfish that I don't want you to go?"

"I have a phone, e-mail, fax, and as far I can tell Canada Post still delivers to Victoria. Your sister lives close by, doesn't she?"

"Up by Nanaimo."

"There, see? You can visit me and Joy when you come visit her."

Considering Lauren had spent much of the last year wandering the island and living with her sister on and off while she tried to find where she belonged, Lauren doubted she'd go back anytime soon. She sighed, blew her bangs off her forehead and said, "Yeah, next time I go, I'll let you know."

The tinkling of bells over the door announced a customer and helped shift her focus. If Ted was leaving then someone else in the office was up for a promotion. Since she knew and liked his staff, she was glad something good would come of Ted's leaving.

"So, who got your job? Anyone I know?"

Before Ted could answer a deep voice spoke from behind her. "Yeah, me."

Lauren's stomach jumped up her throat as she recognized the voice.
Matt. Oh my God, it was Matt!
Part of her was thrilled. Part of her wanted to fly into his arms and give him a hug, tell him how much she'd missed him. How glad she was to see him again.

But the other part of her knew she'd forfeited the right four years ago. Still, what should she do? Her hands clutched each other helplessly. She didn't want to see him in a wheelchair. She didn't want to see the anger in his eyes. It was enough that she heard the tremor of it in his voice.

How could he be Ted's replacement? It didn't make sense.

Steeling herself, feeling Ted's questioning gaze on her, she turned in her chair.

Her breath whooshed out of her lungs.

Instead of looking into his eyes, she had to scale her gaze up his long legs to his face. And then it hit her. He was standing. She looked about but there were no crutches, no braces or wheelchair nearby. He looked perfectly fine. He could walk!

Matt jammed his hands into his pockets. His stance conveyed casualness. His face told another story. His mouth was a tight line and his forehead creased with his frown. A muscle in his jaw flexed.

"Lauren."

Bitterness and anger coated her name, making her wish it didn't belong to her. That the loathing aimed her way wasn't hitting its mark.

Suddenly, like a freight train skidding off its tracks, memories slammed into her. Present faded into past. She saw Matt crawl into the back seat. She remembered her argument with Gil, could hear his voice as though he were in the room right along with Matt.

Lauren felt the blast of each memory and wouldn't have been surprised if her body was recoiling with each blow.

She blinked, but the Matt before her kept shifting into the Matt who had crawled into the car, then the Matt who had lain broken in the hospital bed.

Her throat closed in. Her breath wheezed in her chest with each inhale. Lauren grasped the table, but it wasn't going to save her from the past that wanted to swallow her.

Her head swam as memories pelted her. God, if only she'd had some warning, she could have braced for the assault. But there'd been no warning. Which was why she had to get out. She needed air and time. Time to accept this new truth. Matt wasn't paralyzed; he was here. Oh God, he was here. She hadn't ruined two lives. Head and heart pounding, Lauren came to her feet, grabbed her coat and purse from the back of the chair.

"I have to go," she managed.

Matt took a step toward her, his mouth twisting in anger, but Ted stood, grabbed his arm. Their exchange was lost over the trill of the bells as Lauren yanked open the doors and fled outside.

TWO

Carm?

Carm? Come on!

Facebook was showing her sister was online, she just wasn't responding. No doubt she was enthralled in at least two other conversations at the same time, not to mention keeping one going on her phone as every time Lauren tried calling she heard Carmen's recorded greeting. Lauren hadn't been able to wait any longer.

Lauren typed again. Her fingers flew over the keys as though to convey the pounding in her chest with each strike of the letters.

Where the hell are you?

Finally the little chat bubble icon next to her sister's on-line nickname--Coastalbabe--popped up to say that Carm was typing a response.

Where's the fire?

Can I call you? I need to talk but your cell's going straight to voice mail.

Sorry, it's dead.

Dead cell phone. Why was Lauren surprised? She'd call on Carm's land line except Carm didn't have one.

Guess who's here?
She typed instead.

Keith Urban ;-)

Lauren ground her teeth; now was not the time to joke about Carm's Keith Urban fixation.

Matt!

Matt who?

Matt Skarpinsky!

A long pause followed. Lauren tapped her foot on the floor. Had Carm fallen off her chair? Lauren wouldn't blame her if she did, since she'd nearly done so herself when she'd heard Matt's voice.

Holy shit. Where?

At work. And Carm? He was walking!

I thought he was paralyzed!

Yeah, Lauren thought, so had she. When the nurses had said he'd had spinal injury and was unresponsive, it's what she had assumed. It was one of the reasons she'd run.

So what did he say? What did you say?

I said I had to go and I left.

Again, she thought with a shake of her head. She'd never been proud of her decision to leave Waterton, but at the time, it had seemed the only option. Even the little bit it had taken her to pack her stuff and get a few things in order, she'd nearly come undone. Everything she'd touched was full of memories. Everywhere she'd looked, she'd seen what had been. What she'd believed to be true. And was slapped with what was lost forever. It had been the same last night. She knew Matt wouldn't understand, or care about her feelings, though.

And really, she couldn't blame him.

So you don't know how long he's in town for?
Coastalbabe asked.

Ted's retiring. Matt got his job.
Lauren answered.

Oh. Shit.

Lauren pressed her hands over her mouth.
Oh shit was right.
Outside the dark window she knew the Rockies were there, granite guards which had always brought her refuge, made her feel safe. Tonight, their presence didn't offer any comfort. Matt was back.

Her days of hiding were over.

***

Matt Skarpinsky dropped his towel on the white plastic deck chair that was pushed against the wall and dove cleanly into the deep end of the pool. The chilled water closed over his body and cooled him. He needed it because he was sure as hell pissed off. He came up for air and flipped onto his back, easing into a steady rhythm of long strokes, his arms arcing past his ears and cutting into the water. The white concrete ceiling, industrial lights and metal beams left nothing to distract him from his turbulent thoughts.

Lauren McKinnon. He'd thought of her constantly over the last few years. Thought about her, missed her, cursed her, and generally driven himself fucking nuts. Why had she abandoned him? Why hadn't she at least left a note explaining? A note saying goodbye. Did she think of him at all? Did she even care? Had she ever? Christ.

He rolled onto his side, enjoying the feel of his muscles warming up, loosening. He'd taken it all for granted as a kid, even as a young man. Running, walking, jumping. It had nearly all been stolen from him in a blinding moment he didn't remember.