Lightning Strikes

“Like I said, it’s not just Mother.”

“Hell, if you don’t want to marry Hal, then by God, call off the wedding.”

Randi blew out her breath. “It’s not that easy.” Pausing, she tilted her head. “You should know that.”

“Yeah,” he said, “but I don’t claim to be a role model.”

Randi had leaned over then and kissed him on the cheek at the same time she gave him a wan but grateful smile. “Thanks for listening, but it’s too late to back out now. I’m too big a chicken.”

“Nah, you’re just too good for your own good.”

She was, but there wasn’t anything he could do about that. Randi would do what she had to. He couldn’t make decisions for her. Besides, he had more on his own plate than he could digest. And like she’d pointed out, he wasn’t someone who could give advice. Hadn’t he messed up his own life?

Returning to the present, Noah looked up and watched his future brother-in-law walk out of one of the rooms off the adjacent hall.

Hal Stuart was tall with dishwater blond hair and brown eyes. He was handsome and personable, without being charismatic, something Noah thought would’ve been a prerequisite for a public official. But again, what did he know? Nothing, except he didn’t like Hal, which was too bad, since he would soon be a bona fide member of the family.

“Can you believe this weather?” Hal asked.

“Nope.”

“Water’s everywhere. We’ll be damn lucky if we don’t wash away.”

“That’s why we need to get this show on the road.” Noah didn’t bother to hide the impatience in his voice.

“I’m ready.” Hal’s eyes circled the area. “Where’s Randi? And my mother?”

“Beats the hell out of me.”

Hal’s lips thinned. “I’ll be back shortly.”

“Where—” Noah swallowed the remainder of his sentence as Hal disappeared down the hall. “Swell,” he muttered.

“That’s a bad sign, you know.”

At the sound of the whiskey voice, Noah swung around and watched as Pitser Bowman, a banker and president of the hospital board, strode toward him, looking like a drowned rat. Despite his rain gear, his large frame was wet.

Noah was surprised to see him in spite of Hal having friends in high places. Apparently, Pitser was one of those friends.

Noah’s lips twisted. “Are you referring to my talking to myself?”

“It happens in the best of families,” Pitser replied, the spare tire around his waist shaking with his laughter.

“You’re a brave soul to be out in this weather.”

“Crazy’s more like it.” Pitser glanced at his watch. “Since I was running late, I figured I’d sneak in unnoticed.”

“Everyone’s late,” Noah said tightly. “In fact, I’m beginning to—” He broke off, batting the air with his hand, unable to curb his frustration, yet not wanting to bad-mouth his sister for her tardiness.

“Of course, you’re frothing at the mouth to get back to the hospital.”

“Actually, I can’t believe I haven’t been paged.”

“Just give it time.”

Noah nodded. “Glad you came.”

“By the way, the committee’s narrowed the choice of chief of surgery to two.” Pitser leveled his gaze on him.

Noah’s heart skipped a beat. “Oh?”

“You and Malcom Riley.” While Noah grappled for an appropriate response, Pitser grinned. “Better go get my seat.”

Noah closed his gaping mouth but stood transfixed for a moment, his sluggish mind catching up with his out-of-control pulse.

He’d never dreamed he’d be in the running for such a prestigious, responsible and cutthroat position, though that particular job was something he wanted very much. At this point, he would do just about anything to get it.

He couldn’t think about that right now. There would be time after this damn ceremony to mull over what Bowman had said and to plan his strategy. His competitor, Malcom Riley, was a rich, smooth bastard who would stop at nothing to get the position.

It oughta be one helluva good fight, Noah thought, then stared down the aisle at his mother, who stared back at him, a put-out expression on her face.

For once, he thought, Melissa had a right to be put out. Where was his sister and her groom? he wondered, noticing the subtle crook of his mother’s finger.

Seconds later, Noah eased into the chair reserved for the groom’s mother, Olivia, and looked into another pair of blue eyes, bright with anger.

Under less stressful circumstances, Melissa, at sixty-three, would be considered lovely with her tall, slender frame, silver hair and unlined skin. Now, however, that skin looked sallow and pinched.

“What’s going on?” she demanded in a whisper, through clenched teeth.

“Suppose you tell me. You were the last to see Randi.” Noah glanced at his watch. “What, ten minutes ago?”

“And she was ready. Patsy was putting the finishing touches on her hair.”

As Randi’s best friend, Patsy Fuller was going to serve as her only attendant. And now that Patsy had been mentioned, Noah wondered where Hal’s attendant was. Hell, for that matter, where was the entire wedding party?

“So, what do you want me to do?” Noah asked.

“Knock on the door, for God’s sake.” Though Melissa didn’t lift her head, she continued, “See for yourself how fidgety everyone is. Lord knows, the weather’s bad enough without making matters worse. Besides, I wanted everything to be perfect.”

“Mother—”

“Don’t ‘Mother’ me. This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance for your sister. I can’t believe she’d do anything to mess it up.”

“She won’t.” Noah wished he could be that sure. Maybe she was having serious second thoughts about marrying Hal, thoughts that were much more than premarital jitters. But like he’d told her, he could understand, and unlike their mother, he wouldn’t pass judgment.

“See that she doesn’t.”

“How ’bout Hal’s mother? She’s not here.”