Resisting Her Rebel Hero (3 page)

With unsteady hands she dressed his wound then cleaned and tightly wrapped his hand in a waterproof dressing, before turning away to gather the debris.

The length of her back heated an instant before a long tanned arm reached over her shoulder to snag a bandage. Cursing the way her skin prickled and her body tightened with some kind of weird anticipation, she sent a dark look over her shoulder and watched in silence as he awkwardly attempted to wrap it around his torso. After a moment she sighed and put out her hand, saying wearily, “I’ll do it.”

Clearly surprised by her offer, Samuel held her gaze for a long tension-filled moment. His laugh was a husky rasp in the tense silence and did annoying things to her breathing. “You’re not going to strangle me with it, are you?”

Cassidy knew the taping would help him move—and breathe—more comfortably as he leapt tall mountains in a single bound. She rolled her eyes and waited while he gingerly raised his arms to link both hands behind his head.

Hard muscles shifted beneath his taut, tanned skin and she had to bite her lip to keep from sighing like a stupid female drunk on manly pheromones. She swallowed the urge to lean forward and swipe her tongue across his strong, tanned throat. As though he’d read her mind, he sucked in a sharp breath and she froze, watching in awed fascination as flesh rippled and goose bumps broke out across his skin an inch from her nose.

Heat snapped in the air between them and her mind went numb.
Good grief,
she thought with horror,
I’m attracted to him?
Appalled and more than a little rattled, she lifted her gaze, only to find him watching her, the expression in his gold eyes sending her blood pressure shooting into the stratosphere. She didn’t have to wonder if he was as affected by their proximity as she was.

Tearing her gaze from his, she muttered, “You’re an idiot,” unsure if she was addressing him or herself. In case it was him, she continued with, “And so is the sheriff for expecting you to go out like this.”

“Hikers are missing,” he reminded her impatiently.

She rolled her eyes. She’d treated people suffering from trauma and knew enough about PTSD to be worried about the battle-alert episodes that culminated in dizziness, muscle tremors, sweating and confusion.

“You almost fainted,” she pointed out.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he snapped, as though she’d suggested something indecent. “SEALs don’t faint. I was just a bit dizzy, that’s all. I suffer from low blood pressure.”

Cassidy looked up at the outrageous lie and shut her mouth on a sigh. Clearly he was in denial.
Fine
. She was just doing her job.

Besides, he was a Navy SEAL
.
She reminded herself that he did this kind of thing all the time. A shiver slinked up her spine as she pictured him sneaking into hostile territory, wiping everything out before ghosting out again as silently as he’d arrived. She could even picture him—

“What?”

Yeah, Cassidy. What?

Shaking her head, she went back to binding his torso, reminding herself that she didn’t need rescuing. She wasn’t a damsel in distress and those gold eyes couldn’t see into her mind or know what was happening to her.

Except—
darn him
—he probably did. He was no doubt an expert at making women lose their brain cells just by flexing those awesome biceps—or staring at them with that brooding gold gaze. It was no wonder she felt like she was running a fever. It was no wonder her blood was humming through her veins. Her hormone levels were probably shooting through the stratosphere along with her blood pressure.

Finally she fastened the bandage and took a hasty step back, nearly knocking over the table and its contents in her haste to escape. A large hand on her arm kept her upright and when it tightened as she turned away, she looked up. With his gaze on hers, he gently swiped a line of fire across her bottom lip. She gasped and her heart gave a shocked little blip at the unexpected contact.

“Thank you,” he said, leaning towards her. And just when she thought he meant to kiss her, he snagged a plastic container of pain meds behind her. Grinning at the expression on her face, he popped the top, shook a couple into his palm.

He gave a mocking little salute and tossed the container back in the box. “Gotta go,” he said, scooping up his clothing in his good hand. With one last heated look in her direction he sauntered from the cell, all long loose-limbed masculine grace, leaving Cassidy staring at the wide expanse of his muscular back and the very interesting way he filled out his faded jeans.

Fortunately, before the outer door could close behind him, Cassidy pulled herself together enough to croak, “You need stitches, Major. I suggest coming to the hospital before you get septicemia and die a horrible death.”

Grinning at her over one broad shoulder, he drawled, “It’s a date, darlin’,” and disappeared, leaving Cassidy with the impression that he had absolutely no intention of following through with his promise.

At least, not for sutures.

CHAPTER THREE

T
HE
 
SMALL
 
TOWN
 
of Crescent Lake had been established when traders heading north had come over the mountains and found a large crescent-shaped lake nestled in a thickly wooded area. According to Mrs. Krenson at the Lakeside Inn, it had started out as a rough fur-trading town that had gradually grown into the popular tourist town it was today.

The inn, once the local house of pleasure, had been remodeled and modernized over the years. Rising out of a picturesque forest, with mountains at its back and the lake at its feet like a small sparkling sea, it now resembled a gracious, well-preserved old lady, appearing both elegant and mysterious. At least, that’s what it said in the brochure and what Cassidy had thought when she’d arrived a few weeks before.

Now, with dark clouds hanging over the valley, the lake was nothing like the crystal-clear mirror it resembled in the pictures and Cassidy had to wish for “sturdy” rather than mysterious.

The day had dawned gray and wet and, standing at her bedroom window, Cassidy couldn’t help shivering as she looked up at the mountains shrouded in swirling fog, eerily beautiful and threatening. She wondered if the hikers had been found.

And if she was thinking of a certain someone, it was only because he had no business being out there in the first place. He might be an all-weather hero, but he’d been exhausted, injured and on an edge only he could see. All it would take was one wrong move, one misstep and... And then nothing, she told herself irritably as she spun away from the window. Samuel Kellan was a big boy, a highly trained Navy SEAL. If he wanted to scour the mountains for the next week, it was what he’d been trained for. Heck, he could probably live off the land and heal himself using plants and tree bark.

Whatever effect he’d had on her, Cassidy mused as she closed her bedroom door and headed for the bathroom at the end of the hall, it was over. She’d had the entire night to think about her reaction to him and in the early hours had come to the conclusion that she’d been suffering from low blood sugar...and maybe been a little freaked at finding herself in a jail cell. Maybe even a little awed at meeting a national hero. All perfectly logical explanations for her behavior.

Fortunately she’d recovered, and if she saw him again she’d be the cool, level-headed professional she had a reputation for being. Besides, Samuel J. Kellan was just a man. Like any other.

After a quick shower, she brushed her teeth and headed back to her room to dress. It was her day off and she intended playing tourist. She might have come to the Cascades to escape the mess she’d made of things in Boston, but that didn’t mean she had to bury herself in work. Crescent Lake was a beautiful town filled with friendly, curious people who’d brought her baked goodies just to welcome her to town.

She’d read that the Lakefront Boardwalk housed a host of stores that included a few antiques shops, an art gallery selling local artwork, a quaint bookshop and, among others, a cozy coffee shop with a spectacular view of the lake and mountains.

She hadn’t had a decent latte since leaving Boston, and according to the nurses, Just Java served a delicious Caribbean mocha latte, and the triple chocolate muffins were better than sex.

Just what she needed, a double dose of sin.

A soft knock on her door startled her out of her chocolate fantasy and sent her pulse skittering.

“Dr. Mahoney?” a muffled voice called from the hallway. “Cassidy, dear? Are you awake?”

Shrugging into her wrap, Cassidy fastened the tie and shoved damp hair off her forehead. She pulled open the door as a ball of dread settled in her belly. Her landlady wouldn’t disturb her unless there was an emergency.

Val Krenson’s brows were pinched together over her faded blue eyes and one hand was poised to knock again. “I’m sorry to wake you, dear,” she apologized quickly. “That was the hospital. They found the hikers. How soon can you get there?”

“Ten minutes,” Cassidy said, already morphing into emergency mode. “Fifteen at the most.” She stepped back into the room and would have shut the door but Val held out a hand to detain her.

“John Randal is downstairs, dear. Shall I ask him to wait?”

“That’s okay, Val,” Cassidy said with a quick shake of her head. “I’ll need my car later and I don’t want to inconvenience anyone.” The last time the deputy had driven her anywhere she’d landed up at the jail. So not going there.

“Planning a little down time?” Val asked with a warm smile.

“It’ll have to wait.” Cassidy sighed. “They didn’t say how serious, did they?”

“I’m afraid not, dear. Just that you get there as soon as possible.” She leaned forward. “I’m glad you’re here to help Monty out, dear. He tires easily these days.” She shook her head. “That man should have retired years ago but not many people want to bury themselves in the mountains.”

In some ways Cassidy could understand why. They were a couple of hours from the nearest large town and there wasn’t much in the way of nightlife that didn’t include a few bars, steakhouses and the local bar and grill, Fahrenheit’s.

She might feel like a fish out of water, but she’d been surprised to discover she liked the close-knit community where people knew each other and exchanged gossip with their favorite recipes.

At least here people stopped to chat when they saw you, she thought with a smile, instead of staring right through you as though you didn’t exist, or scuttling away like you were an escaped crazy. Surprisingly she was enjoying the slower pace. It was a nice change to be able to connect with the people she was treating. But long term? She didn’t know.

“It’s a beautiful town, Val, but I’ve only got a short-term contract.”

Val laughed and patted Cassidy’s arm. “Don’t worry, dear,” she said over her shoulder, a twinkle lighting her blue eyes. “I have a feeling you’re going to be around a long time.”

Cassidy uttered a noncommittal “Hmm” and shut the door behind her landlady. She hunted in the closet for a clean pair of jeans, underwear, socks and a soft green long-sleeved T-shirt. Dressing quickly, she shoved her feet into the nearest pair of boots and grabbed a brush that she hurriedly pulled through her wet hair before piling it on top of her head in a loose style that would dry quickly. Foregoing makeup, she grabbed her medical bag and jacket and headed for the door.

Fifteen minutes after closing the door behind the innkeeper, Cassidy pulled up beside the hospital’s staff entrance. Locking her car—which everyone said was unnecessary—she hurried into the waiting room, which was already bustling with chaos and reminded her of a busy city ER.

Her eyes widened. There were people everywhere—sprawled in chairs with their heads tilted back in exhaustion, while even more hovered near the entrance, propping up the walls, slugging back steaming coffee and wolfing down fat sandwiches handed out by a group of women.

Sandwiches? Coffee?
And where had all these people come from? It looked like a temporary ops center—or a tea party for big hulking men.

“Good, you’re here.” A voice at her elbow distracted her from the chaos and Cassidy turned to see the head nurse holding out a clipboard.

She accepted the board, feeling a little shell-shocked. “What on earth’s going on?”

Fran Gilbert followed her gaze. “The town’s disaster committee in action,” she explained with a shrug, as though it happened every day.

Disaster—? Oh, no
. Cassidy gulped down a sudden sick feeling.
Please don’t tell me...!
Shaking off her pessimistic thoughts, she frowned at the older woman. “Disaster? How bad?”

Fran frowned in confusion. “Bad?” Then realizing what Cassidy was thinking, she said, “
No!
God, no. Cassidy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” She gave Cassidy a quick hug. “I just meant that the disaster committee responds whenever the rescue teams go out. The junior league ladies take turns providing hot food and drinks. To practice they set up basic first-aid stations for minor injuries. When news came through that the hikers were being brought down, they moved operations here.”

“Oh.” Cassidy let out a whoosh of relief, a little awed at the way the community mobilized when the need arose. Any disaster in a big city was met with looting and rioting.

“They say it’s to practice for a real disaster but I think it’s just an excuse to get out and socialize.”

Cassidy nodded. “Okay, no disaster. What
do
we have?” she asked, as Fran led her towards the ER cubicles.

“Mostly minor but too many for poor Monty to cope with,” the older woman said, before launching into a rapid-fire report worthy of a busy city ER nurse.

Rebecca Thornton, she told Cassidy, had slipped and fallen off the trail. She’d broken her leg and her husband had climbed down the steep embankment to get to her. He’d slipped near the bottom in the treacherous conditions and knocked himself out. Several others had then climbed down to carry the injured couple out but had found their way blocked by huge boulders. With the gully rapidly filling with water, the group still on the trail had elected to return and alert the authorities. They hadn’t made it back yet and a team was still out, looking for them.

Dr. Montgomery looked up briefly from checking a young man’s bruised and lacerated arm. “Glad they found you,” he said with an absent smile, before turning to give the attending nurse instructions.

Soon Cassidy was swamped, treating a broken leg and collarbone, a fractured wrist and a concussion. There was a bruised and swollen knee that she suspected might be cartilage damage, a host of cuts and scrapes, and hypothermia along with exhaustion and dehydration.

And that was just the hiking party.

Once they’d been examined, treated and transferred to the wards for fluids and observation, Cassidy turned her attention to the rescue crew. Among the expected lacerations and contusions, she diagnosed torn ankle ligaments, a dislocated shoulder and a broken finger. Pretty mild considering the awful night they’d endured, she mused, sending one nurse to the suture room and another to X-rays.

She’d just left Hank Henderson propped up with an ice pack on his foot when the elderly doctor called to ask her opinion about the shoulder injury.

After examining Andy Littleton, Cassidy decided there didn’t seem to be any serious ligament damage that would require surgery. She told Andy to take a deep breath and quickly pulled his shoulder back into place. He went white and swayed alarmingly before throwing up in the kidney dish she shoved at him.

Listing drunkenly while she strapped his shoulder and arm, he made Cassidy swear a blood oath that she wouldn’t tell anyone he’d cried like a girl. Biting back a grin of sympathy, she squeezed his hand, and turned to find Harry Montgomery beaming at her like a proud teacher whose pupil had surpassed his expectations.

“Looks like old Howie’s loss is our gain, eh?” The big man chuckled, his age-spotted hand patting her shoulder awkwardly. “He said you were a bright young thing. What he didn’t say was that you have an easy way with people along with that sharp diagnostic mind.” He studied her shrewdly. “I guess the old buzzard didn’t want to lose you, eh?”

With heat rising to her cheeks, Cassidy looped her stethoscope around her neck. She felt like a new resident under scrutiny. Besides, one didn’t have to be Einstein to pick up the question behind the compliment. The question of why she was treating runny noses and middle-ear infections in a small mountain hospital instead of running her own ER—which was what she’d originally intended.

“He’s a wonderful man,” she replied with a warm smile. “And I loved the daily challenges in ER.” Thrusting her hands into her lab-coat pockets, she chose her words carefully. “But big city ERs are like operating in a war zone, and when you lose count of the number of ODs, stabbings and rapes you treat...” She sighed. “I realized I needed a change—to get back to basics. Howie mentioned Crescent Lake and I thought it might be the perfect place to try out something more community-oriented.”

She didn’t say that hearing it was deep in the Cascades and a continent away from Boston had sounded appealing. She’d been desperate to get away and work on forgetting the career-damaging fallout of treating a real-life hero injured in the line of duty. A “hero” who’d turned out to be anything but.

She shuddered at the memory.
God
, she’d been stupidly naïve and had paid a very high price. Then again, how could anyone have known the handsome vice cop wasn’t one of the good guys?

The charming wounded-hero act had been just that—an act. He’d used it to lull people—
her
—into a false sense of security. He’d pursued her with flowers, gifts and romantic dinners then stolen her hospital security card, giving him access to the ER dispensary as well as a stack of prescription pads, which he’d used by forging her signature. In the end there’d been a full-scale police investigation—with her as the prime suspect.

In truth, all she’d really been guilty of had been bad judgment. She’d trusted someone who’d proved to be anything
but
trustworthy. In hindsight he’d been too good to be true: too romantic and too sensitive for it not to have been a very clever performance from a man who knew exactly what women wanted.

By the time she’d realized something was wrong, the media frenzy had crucified her, calling her professional competence into question. It had been a nightmare.

Fortunately for her, Lance Turnbull had been under internal investigation. One that had involved a dozen other women doctors around the city. Cassidy had eventually been cleared of all charges but the damage had been done. She’d suffered through snide comments and cruel jokes from her colleagues until she’d finally buckled under the stress.

“GP work is pretty boring compared to the excitement of ER,” the old doctor warned, wrenching her from her disturbing thoughts. “Especially here in the boondocks.”

Relieved to focus on something other than her past failures, Cassidy looked around at the controlled chaos and sent him a small smile. “I wouldn’t exactly call it boring,” she said, her smile turning into a grin when his deep chuckle filled the hallway.