Lightning Strikes

Light laughter followed her departure out of trauma room one and into the hall of Vanderbilt Memorial, where she was working overtime, pulling a double shift.

Considering the stormy weather, the ER, where she was permanently employed, was unusually quiet. Give it time, she told herself with a downward curve of her full lips. This kind of weather was a perfect breeding ground for wrecks and various other accidents, and it was Friday night, which, regardless of the circumstances, was always busy.

Amanda made it to her office on the first floor, where admitting and the emergency room were both located. Once in her tiny cubbyhole, barely large enough for a desk, filing cabinet and cot, she released a sigh and pushed a thick lock of blond hair behind her ear.

God, she was tired, yet she didn’t want to go home. Besides, she was needed. Due to the horrendous weather that had begun earlier in the day, only a skeleton crew was on hand. Flooding and mud slides had made many of the roads impassable. The police and other city officials had advised people to stay indoors.

So far, so good, Amanda reminded herself again, though she wasn’t about to become smug. “Calm before the storm” jumped to the forefront of her mind just as a clap of thunder suddenly rocked the building. Amanda flinched, then frowned. As predicted, her complacency hadn’t lasted long. In all the years she’d lived in Grand Springs, which was the majority of her life, this was the worst weather this town of sixty thousand had ever experienced.

If the rain didn’t quit soon, she envisioned the small tourist town washing down the mountainside and disappearing. Of course, that wasn’t going to happen, or at least she prayed it wouldn’t. Tourism was a major source of income, since the small city lay within easy reach of the best ski slopes, lakes and hiking trails Colorado had to offer.

However, she would be glad when the storm had passed and things settled back to normal. Everyone’s nerves seemed to be on edge, hers included.

But her agitation didn’t stem from the weather alone. She wished… No. She wouldn’t do that to herself. She refused to let her thoughts wander down the forbidden path that she had declared off-limits. She wasn’t going to indulge herself now, not when she was happier with herself and her work than she’d been in months. She loved being a doctor, and she loved Grand Springs.

“Anyone home?”

The unexpected interruption into her thoughts brought her head around. The director of the emergency room, Carl Stanley, had opened the door and was standing on the threshold, smiling.

“Inside or out?” she asked, returning his smile.

He got her message because he laughed. “Don’t feel bad. My brain’s been on hiatus, too.”

She couldn’t ask for a smarter or nicer boss, although he certainly didn’t resemble a doctor. He was big and burly with bushy hair and beard. In fact, he often looked downright sloppy, as though he needed a good scrubbing. She suspected that was because of his grungy fingertips and teeth yellowed from years of smoking. Yet nothing could overshadow his sharp mind and talented hands.

“Come on in,” Amanda said, “although I was about to head for the lounge and grab a quick cup of coffee.”

Dr. Stanley opened the door wider, than stepped aside with the sweep of his arm. “Let’s go. I could use a cup myself.”

Once they were in the large room, replete with a refrigerator and microwave plus a metal table and chairs, and an uncomfortable-looking cot, they didn’t speak until they each had a cup of strong coffee in hand and were seated at the table.

“By the way, thanks for doubling.”

“No problem,” Amanda answered.

“I wish all my staff were as eager and accommodating as you.”

“For the most part, they are.”

Carl was quiet for a moment, rubbing his beard. “How would you like to be my assistant?”

Amanda gasped and her eyes widened. “You’re kidding?”

“Nope. Vanderbilt’s on the verge of getting a huge grant that will make that possible, both professionally and monetarily.”

“Well, I’m flattered, of course.”

“But—”

Amanda flushed, but she didn’t shift her gaze when she said, “You’ve heard, haven’t you?”

“That you want to leave ER and go into private practice—into sports medicine, to be exact. You’re right, I’ve heard. And I’m not happy.”

“So this is your way of keeping me chained to Vanderbilt?”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, actually, it’s very flattering and I’m honored.”

“So, just say yes.”

Amanda stood and walked to the window, though she continued to sip on her coffee. Like Carl, she needed the punch from the caffeine. For a moment, she seemed mesmerized by the rain slashing against the pane.

“I can’t imagine this hospital without you.” He paused with a cough. “Don’t leave. Please.”

Amanda swung back around. “I can’t make any promises. Going into sports medicine has been and is my ultimate dream. But what I can promise is that I won’t be leaving anytime soon.”

“Thank God. I thought maybe Noah’s return—”

Amanda shook her head, cutting him off. “He has nothing to do with my decisions.” Her tone was as cold as the sudden drop in her body’s temperature.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to imply that—”

“You didn’t,” she responded matter-of-factly, yet her tone remained chilly. “At this point, I feel I need more experience before I go it alone, which means I’ll definitely give your offer serious thought, if the grant pans out.”

The director drained his cup, then stood, a smile once again in place. “Trust me, it’ll happen. Meanwhile, I’m outta here. If things get hairy, I’ll try and come back.”

“For heaven’s sake, be careful on those slick roads.”

“I’ll be fine. I wouldn’t go, except I’m about to fall asleep on my feet, which means I’m not safe to touch any patient.”

She couldn’t argue with that. Fatigue was a special no-no in ER as fast, critical decisions had to be made by clear minds and steady hands. Miraculously, she still had both.

“Take care,” Amanda called to his back. He waved and closed the door behind him.

For a moment, she dickered as to whether to remain in the break room or return to her cubbyhole. She opted to stay where she was as long as it was quiet. But then, quiet was not what she needed; it gave her too much time to think.

Damn Carl for mentioning Noah Howell.

She peered at her watch and noticed that the wedding was about to take place at Squaw Creek Lodge. Noah’s sister, Randi, was getting married, and everyone who was anyone would be there. Everyone except her, that is, she thought with a smirk. But that was all right. Squaw Creek was the last place she wanted to be.

She preferred being right where she was, doing her job. More to the point, she preferred not to think about weddings—anyone’s wedding. Still, she couldn’t help but think about tomorrow and its significance. It would have been her first wedding anniversary, if Noah hadn’t practically jilted her at the altar.

Amanda’s breath caught in her lungs and she squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to ward off her errant thoughts. Her tactic backfired. Noah’s ghost seemed to haunt the room. Why did she have to think about him now, when she was alone? To do so made her crazy, crazy with anger and frustration.

His return to Vanderbilt had been like a blow from behind. Out of all the area hospitals that needed top-notch surgeons, some much more prestigious than Vanderbilt Memorial, why had he chosen to return home? Why had the board taken him back? That latter question was easily answered—he was the best at what he did. His hands were the consummate surgeon’s. He was the consummate surgeon. Too bad that talent didn’t spill over into his personal life.

After he had left, Amanda prayed that by some miracle she wouldn’t ever have to see him again. She had almost begun to feel secure in that prayer being answered when she’d received word he had returned. Her knee-jerk reaction had been to resign on the spot.