The Aries Libra Connection (Opposites In Love Book 1) (5 page)

When he saw the bag of toys, a cooler and a large thermos, he laughed. “Were you planning to stay a week?”

“The toys belong to Megan’s nephew. We had brunch down here. He’s the only beach kid this year.”

He picked up the string bag and the cooler. “Where should I put these?”

“On the patio.” She dashed up the steps.

Simple, direct, honest. The seeds of suspicion his administrative staff had planted about her character shriveled. He couldn’t believe she had a secret agenda.

She waved at three young men. “Ben, Larry, Danny, come meet my boss. Eric, these are my brothers. He’s on for volleyball. Let Alex know he has another player.” She ran to the cottage. “See you all at three. I’ve KP duty.”

“Don’t eat all the strawberries.”

Eric laughed at the chorus. As he helped set up the net, he listened to Jenessa’s brothers. They joked about her bossiness and her desire to be the best. He recalled her intensity during the softball game. Was every activity a competition to her? Did she know how to just enjoy?

An hour later, Eric stood on the other side of the net between two teenage girls. Megan and Alex Carter and a pair of identical twins made up the rest of the team.

Jenessa prepared to serve. A pair of denim shorts fit her like an extension of her skin. He shook his head to dislodge thoughts of covering her in a similar fashion. Streaks of dirt stained her white shirt.

“This one’s for game,” she shouted. “Danny, please. Ben, no preening. Larry get your mind on the game. We’re here to win, not to strut.”

Eric laughed. Never before had he met a woman who relished competition the way she did. No wonder Bishop thought she was dangerous. Did the Board president realize she wasn’t ruthless? Though she reveled in winning, when her team had lost the first game, she had laughed and played harder.

The ball soared toward him. He tapped it to the front line. Alex hit it across the net. Larry hit the sphere into the air. From the back line, Jenessa charged and spiked the ball over the net.

“Game,” she called. “Ready for a tie-breaker?”

A chorus of groans rose from both sides of the net. Eric collapsed on the grass and folded his arms under his head.

“Eric.”

She stood beside him. He eyed her legs and sat up before his reaction to her became obvious. “What about tomorrow?”

“Where’s your sense of competition?”

“Left on the football field when I graduated from college.” The challenge in her blue eyes sent his thoughts racing in a different direction. What would happen if he kissed her?

Ben draped his arm around his sister’s shoulders. “You’re the only iron man around here. Tomorrow’s fine.”

She ducked under his arm. “I wanted to join Dad for golf.”

“Do you think he would ask you after the way you trounced him last time?”

“You’re right.” She ran to the house. “See you later.”

Eric vaulted the wall and strode down the beach. The thought of kissing Jenessa refused to go away. He groaned. Why had a member of his staff been the one to capture his interest and promise to fill the empty spaces in his life?

* * *

Jenessa sat at the picnic table between Alex and Megan. Eric sat on the other side. She caught his eye. “So what do you think about Shadow Lake barbecues?”

“Great food. Good company. And I’m learning things I need to know.”

His enigmatic smile puzzled her. What did he mean?

Megan waved her father over. “Dad, what do you know about the hospital being sold? All the nurses are talking about it.”

Dr. Carter shrugged. “Old rumors. Bishop mentioned the possibility several years ago. The majority of the Board knew he never did anything where he wouldn’t profit. We told him no. Why would he try again?”

Eric leaned forward. “How would he profit?”

“Ask him.”

Jenessa laughed. “And he’ll tell all. I don’t think so.” She ate several strawberries and finished a slice of melon.

Megan rose. “Who’s riding to the Road House with me?”

People rose and cleared off the tables. Jenessa shoved her plate in the trash barrel. She headed across the beach. Saturday and dancing at the Road House was a tradition she would avoid. The last time she had been there had been the first time she and Chuck had quarreled about him taking a steady job, about having a baby and about every facet of their life.

The moon dipped in and out of the clouds. She walked along the water’s edge and wished she’d stayed in Eastlake. Why did we quarrel? Why did he want me to be like Penelope and wait by the fire while he rode off on his bike? For the first time since his death, she saw the flaw in the perfection she had invested him with the night he’d died.

She rounded a jutting earth bank and perched on a rock that had tumbled down the hillside. With a stick, she dug stones from the dirt and piled them beside her. One by one, she skipped them across the lake.

A sound, foreign to the night, startled her. She turned and saw Eric at the entrance to the secluded cove.

* * *

Eric watched Jenessa. He saw anger in the way she pitched the stones and sadness in her posture. “Are you all right?”

“I thought you’d go with the others.”

He could have, but concern for her had kept him here. “I thought we could talk.”

She rose. “About the contract? About the reason the Board’s not cooperating?”

The sweet aroma of her perfume wafted toward him. “About us.”

“There’s no us.”

“We haven’t tried.”

She shifted away from him. “I’m not sure I can.” She turned to face him.

He touched her arm with his fingers. “You aren’t the only one carrying garbage from the past.” Heat radiated from her. He resisted the urge to sweep her into his arms and devour her with kisses. He couldn’t rush her.

“Why did you become a nurse?”

“Because I couldn’t be a cop.” When she turned to look at him, her cheek brushed his arm.

“I don’t understand.”

“You asked me if I had traditions. Being a cop is a Bradshaw one. Since the days of the Bow Street Runners and including my dad, my brother and me. After college. I joined the force. A year later I resigned.”

“What happened?”

“A strike. Newspaper delivery drivers. Got rough when the scabs arrived. Someone smashed my shoulder and suddenly I had no career.”

Jenessa put her hand over his. “All unions aren’t like that. We won’t strike unless Bishop and the Board refuse to talk.”

He shook his head. “Nurses strike. They swear they’re concerned for the patients and then they walk. They’re too concerned about the wants of a few to care about the needs of the many.”

She strode to the edge of the lake. “My husband died in a dangerously understaffed ICU. Six months later, the nurses had a union and a contract guaranteeing safe nurse/patient ratios.”

He knew about that union. “No hospital can promise adequate staffing if there aren’t nurses to fill vacancies.”

She turned. “They could make a place…”

He groaned. He hadn’t come to the lake to discuss the hospital, the union or the contract. “Nice try. Let’s talk about us.”

She bolted. “See you.”

“Jenessa.” In two strides, he reached her. He put his hands on her shoulders. His thumbs massaged the sides of her throat. “I’ve never dated a member of my staff.”

“Once. We went out once. We needn’t repeat the mistake.”

“Was it once?” He turned her and cupped her face. His lips brushed hers. Currents flowed along his nerves. He pulled her into an embrace. Her body pressed against him. He deepened the kiss.

Jenessa shivered, not from cold, but because fear and expectation coiled around each other. His tongue traced her lips. She opened her mouth and welcomed his invasion.

For an instant or an eternity, she allowed the storm of sensations to carry her from the past to the present. Then, knowing she couldn’t promise a future, she stepped back. His fingers touched her face like a blind person seeking to learn an identity.

She drew into herself. The kiss promised things she had no right to want. Suddenly, she couldn’t face his touch or his gaze without being in his arms. She turned and ran. Being alone with him was inviting disaster. She recognized the attraction, but was there more than loneliness at the core?

* * *

Eric watched her go. Acceptance and rejection had melded like two pieces of soldered metal. Had she remembered who he was and how he’d failed her?

Tomorrow, he decided. The single taste of her had brought a craving for more. He slumped on the rock where she had sat and stared at the moon’s reflection on the dark waters of the lake.

* * *

By the time she reached the cottage, her runaway emotions had been reined. She sat at the window in her bedroom and stared at the star-lit sky. Tired. Troubled. Sleep came hard and late.

Before dawn, she dressed in jeans and a cotton shirt. For three years, even in a crowd, she had felt lonely. The time for change had come, but she didn’t know how. She slipped from the house and backed her car into the road.

An hour later, she parked at the top of Cemetery Hill. In the distance, outlines of the city’s buildings showed against the lightening sky, the city where Chuck had been born and where they had lived. The iron gates at the entrance to the cemetery stood open. She left the car and strode along the gravel path to the Robertson family plot.

As she knelt beside her husband’s grave, his face shimmered in her thoughts. The once clear picture blurred. She sank back on her heels and stared at the marker.

“Where are you when I need you?”

She rose and moved to the weathered bench across from the grave. “I’ve met a man. I don’t know what to do.” The breeze carried the whisper of rustling leaves.

Her foot moved in slow circles. Anger seeped into her thoughts.

“You didn’t have to die. For three years, I’ve lived with guilt. You could have stayed and talked.” She bit her lip. “Selfish, you were selfish. We were friends. We were lovers, but you never made a commitment to us as a family.”

She put her hand over her mouth. He had died and she was to blame.

With a choked sob, she ran to her car. Though she wanted to hide, she drove to Shadow Lake. For the rest of the weekend, she used her family and friends to barrier herself from Eric.

Chapter
4

On Tuesday morning, Jenessa dashed across the street with Megan two steps behind her. For the first time since they’d been college roommates, they had slept through the alarm. Jenessa barreled into the hospital. As she hit the doors to ICU, she waved to Megan. “See you.”

Seconds later, she slid into a chair at the L-shaped desk and glanced at the wall clock, gratified to see she’d arrived with four minutes to spare. She sighed with relief. No sense giving the nurse manager an excuse to write her up.

A young and frazzled night nurse looked up. “Am I ever glad to see you.”

“Am I it?” Jenessa asked.

Beth shook her head. “Pam’s counting narcotics. Rob, Rachel and Claire are in the break room.”

“Amazing. Full staff for a change. Are we being inspected?”

“I hope not.” Beth combed her fingers through her short hair. “I don’t like it here. I should have stayed on Four East.”

“And wasted your critical care course.” Jenessa searched for words to assure the younger nurse that when she learned the pace, she’d feel more confident. “It’s like shooting the rapids. You’ll learn to shift and turn. Also, praying the beds are full when you come on helps.”

Beth leaned against the desk. “Maybe I’ll sign on with X-tra Hands. I hear if you work for them, you don’t have to do extra days here.”

“How can they promise that? They sure aren’t used here.” She frowned. She’d heard the agency mentioned the other day. Did any of her co-workers work for the agency? Like Claire? The brassy blonde was always glad to work until eleven, but it had been ages since she’d worked an extra thirteen hour shift. She reached for a clipboard. “Ready for report.”

“Great. All your patients were mine.” Beth opened the report book.

Jenessa attached three flowsheets and pulled out her pen. “I’m set.”

“Cubicle three. Tommy Greene, motorcycle accident, head trauma, multiple fractures, trach, respirator, hourly neuro checks.”

A touch of the past brushed Jenessa’s thoughts. Though Beth droned on, Jenessa heard little of the rest of the report. She gripped the pen and fought an urge to run.

I can’t handle this, she thought. She felt as though she’d been backed into a corner. A deliberate assignment? she wondered. The nurse manager knew her history. She sucked in a breath.
I’m a professional. I can do this.

“In four, Sadie Johnson, Grand mal seizures times two since admission. Last one at two AM. Non-compliance with medications.” Beth looked up. “Percy Maynes, post pneumonectomy, chest tube patent, no temp elevated…may be transferred if a bed is needed.”

Jenessa nodded. “He’ll go tomorrow for sure.” She checked the charts and noted medication and treatment orders. As she set her priorities for the day, she heard snatches of the other reports. Then she left the desk to make rounds. Instead of beginning in three, she walked to five.

Coward, she thought. But she couldn’t face the patient in three yet. She needed time before she faced a glimpse of the past.

“Good morning, Mr. Maynes.” She stood in the doorway of five.

The elderly man grinned. “Glad you’re back. Them other nurses don’t know how to make me laugh. Guess they’re feared of jostling the tube. Got me a piece of good news. Doc says I’m getting out of here soon.”

“Today or tomorrow.” She popped a digital thermometer under his tongue and stooped to check the drainage set-up. When the beeper sounded, she removed the probe. “No elevation.”

“Maybe today.” He chuckled. “Can’t wait to see a real TV ‘stead of them monitor things. Want to watch the Pirates.”

“They’re on tonight. I’ll push you for this afternoon.”

“Do that and I’ll bake you one of my favorite rum cakes, full of chocolate and nuts. Kids won’t let me do much at the bakery these days, but I’ll sneak in.” He winked. “Got a few bucks riding on the Bucs.”

Jenessa filled an orange basin with water and set it on the overbed table. “Be back to help you finish your bath.”

“No hurry.”

In cubicle four, she found the obese woman sitting on a chair beside the bed. A wash basin stood on the table. “Good morning, Sadie.”

“Guess you ‘members me. I know your face but don’t recollect your name.”

“Jenessa. And I do remember you. You were here three months ago with the same problem.” She wrapped a blood pressure cuff around Sadie’s arm. “Why did you stop taking your medicine?”

“Weren’t having no more fits.” Sadie pushed stringy dishwater blonde hair from her forehead. “Guess I was dumb.”

“I think you didn’t understand the importance of your medicine. We’ll talk about your epilepsy and why you need to take your pills later. Maybe we’ll find a way to keep you from coming back.” Jenessa completed Sadie’s vital signs. She emptied the basin, washed her hands and left the room. Would Sadie ever understand that the absence of seizures meant the medication was working, not that she no longer needed it?

Jenessa hesitated outside three. Bike accident. Drunk driver. Multiple fractures. Trach. Respirator. Each time she recalled another parallel, another set of muscles tensed. Her feet felt leaden; her knees unstable. With slow steps, she moved to the door. A massive weight settled on her chest.

“Chuck,” she whispered.

For a moment, she stepped from the present into the past and another ICU. A storm of emotions swept over her with guilt riding the first wave. My fault. I shouldn’t have— She swallowed several times to force back a rise of bitter bile and inched toward the bed.

The same white bandages turbaned his head. The same casts covered both legs and one arm. The wheeze of the respirator sounded identical.

She sank on the chair next to the bed. What am I going to do? She gulped deep breaths of air. She was tough. She could handle this. Not Chuck. Tommy Greene. She wasn’t to blame this time.

The young man’s chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. His ashen skin nearly matched the sheets.

She considered asking one of her co-workers to switch assignments. With brisk movements, she rubbed her icy hands on her uniform. Then, knowing if she didn’t face the morass of emotions she would lose her effectiveness as a nurse, she gulped a breath and accepted responsibility for Tommy.

“Hi, Tommy. I’m your nurse today. Jenessa.” Her words ended in a gasp. Had she seen his eyelids move or had it been a shadow? She focused on his face and studied features unlike Chuck’s. She gripped the side rail and vowed the boy would have a better chance for survival than her husband had.

Once her rioting emotions were tightly chained, she set priorities. Her need to give Tommy as much time as possible forced her to set a rigid schedule. She completed a neurological assessment and left to assemble morning supplies.

Before heading to the utility room, she stopped at the desk and reached for the extra duty roster. Mrs. Sikes, the unit clerk glared. How did I offend her today? Jenessa wondered. The woman had just arrived. Jenessa turned and grabbed a cart.

As she loaded linens and other supplies, pictures of Tommy and her husband flashed in her thoughts. Tears stung her eyes. She couldn’t cry, not here and now. She bit her lower lip until her ragged breathing flowed smooth and even.

Just after she entered Tommy’s cubicle for the second time, she heard Eric’s deep voice. While trying to ignore a new infusion of emotions, she began the boy’s care. When she sensed the presence of another person in the room, she tensed.

“Mrs. Robertson, could you give me a report on the boy’s condition? The media’s hounding the switchboard.”

His professional stance steadied her. “I’ll be finished in ten minutes. Then I can talk.”

“I’ll be in the break room. Coffee light and sweet.”

He remembered, she thought. She felt as though fifty pounds had been lifted from her chest. With practiced movements, she suctioned and cleaned Tommy’s tracheotomy. When the cannula was again in place, she washed her hands. Then hoping her confused emotions didn’t show, she hurried to the break room.

Eric sat at the small table. “Seven minutes.”

His smile warmed her. “I underestimated.” She leaned against the counter and lifted the mug inscribed with her initials. Memories of the kiss they’d shared made her flush. She swallowed. This wasn’t the time to dwell on fantasies. She dragged her thoughts to the reason he was here.

“What do you want to know about Tommy?”

“You look wiped. Are you sure this case isn’t too much for you to handle?” He moved to her side.

So he’d heard about Chuck. Would he understand the reason she’d kept the assignment? He massaged her taut shoulder muscles. As though an infusion of sympathy had been opened wide, warmth suffused her body. She put the mug on the counter and began a report using information gleaned from Tommy’s chart and from her own observations.

She finished and looked up. “If you’d like, I’ll give our unit clerk frequent updates.” For a moment, she leaned against him and absorbed the comfort he offered.

“Unless there’s a drastic change, that won’t be necessary.” He thought of the kiss and her response. Being near her brought reactions that belonged in the bedroom. Before he acted in a less than professional manner, he stepped back. “You could have told me all this at the bedside.”

“I could have, but though Tommy’s unconscious, he can hear. Learning how grave his injuries are might affect how he responds to treatment.”

Eric nodded. “You’re right. Guess a year away from the bedside is too much.” He grinned. “Don’t think I’m ceding my seat on the Board.”

“We’ll accept a second seat. The doctors have five. Why can’t the nurses have two?” She moved to the door.

“No reason. Are you going to be all right?”

“I’m tough. I’ll manage.”

“Are you sure?”

“You know the guy who hit him was drunk and walked away with a few bruises? I hate drunk drivers.”

Was she speaking about her husband or Tommy Greene? He disliked the rigid line of her mouth and the desolation in her eyes. “Why don’t you switch assignments?”

“Why? I’m doing this because of what happened in my past. If you’d been there, you’d understand.”

The opportunity to tell her had arrived, but the words stuck in his throat. Not this morning. How could he add to the anguish he saw in her blue eyes? “Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t let the past rule you.”

“I’m not. Hiding from what happened won’t solve anything.” She hurried from the break room.

Her words had struck a cord…a discordant one. He was running from his past, the injury that had ended his career, his anger about the way Gail had used him to gain information, and his newly acquired guilt about the night Jenessa’s husband had died.

The past intruded on the present. He wasn’t sure of what to do. Before he found the future he wanted, he had to resolve the past. How?

* * *

At six thirty, Jenessa stood in the doorway of a semi- private room on Three South. “Enjoy the game, Mr. Maynes.”

“Sure will.” He grinned like a child who’d received every toy he wanted.

“See you.” She headed to the elevator. When she stepped out on the first floor, an announcement blared from the loudspeaker. “Code. ICU Three. Code. ICU Three.”

“No!” she cried. Visitors swarmed the halls. She pushed past them and entered ICU and ran to cubicle three.

A team of four, a doctor, two nurses and a respiratory therapist were in the room. The doctor snapped orders. One nurse handed him syringes of medicine while the other noted the orders and watched the monitor screen.

Jenessa studied the pattern of lines. Ventricular tachycardia. The heart rate sped so fast she could barely separate the beats. Just like Chuck. As though mesmerized she stared at the screen.

“Oh lord, what can I do? My fault. If I hadn’t pushed. I can’t do this alone.”

Instead of Dr. Carter, she saw Eric. Her eyes widened, but he remained. What was he doing in the nightmare that had been hers for three years?

“He’s converted.”

She shook her head. That’s not the way it happened.
He died. He died.
A shudder shook her body
. Not Chuck
. Her legs trembled. The room blurred. She leaned against the door frame and waited for the storm of emotions to fade.

Claire pushed the code cart from the room. “Gee, Jenessa, you missed all the fun.” The brassy blonde frowned. “You look awful. Seen a ghost?” Her eyes widened. “Sorry, I forgot.”

Jenessa turned to leave the room. Dr. Carter put a hand on her shoulder. “You all right?”

She nodded. “What happened?”

“V tach. Not unexpected. His condition is grave.”

“He responded to my voice. His eyelids moved.”

Dr. Carter led her to the break room. “An involuntary movement. I know what you’re thinking. I didn’t see Chuck, but I spoke to his doctors. There was no chance for a recovery here either. It’s a matter of time.”

She sank on one of the chairs. “I know why Chuck died and it wasn’t his injuries.” The automatic response rang false, but she couldn’t stop herself. Then she’d have to admit the real reason.