Healing Her Heart, Laura Scott [reading fiction txt] 📗

his wife. Again.

“What about the black eye from a few weeks ago?” she asked.

Gabe scowled. “I don’t remember that.”

“You weren’t working that shift,” Larissa pointed out. “I was on with Dr. Gardener.”

Deputy Armbruster pursed his lips. “We could maybe argue that it’s a pattern, but again, not likely. I got a black eye myself playing softball with my girls.” He smiled grimly. “My daughter Elise has a good arm.”

Gabe understood what the deputy was saying, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. “So what can we do?”

“Look, I can go chat with Kurt if you want me to. At least he’ll know that we’re on to him and—”

“No,” Larissa interrupted harshly. “Don’t.”

“What?” Gabe glared at her. “Why not?”

“Because he’ll be mad and take his anger out on her, that’s why.” Larissa turned toward Deputy Armbruster. “If you can’t arrest him, then just leave it alone.”

Gabe couldn’t believe what he was hearing. What was she doing? Why wasn’t Larissa standing up for their patient? “I think it would do Kurt good to know we’re on to him.”

“Why?” Larissa asked, her green eyes sparking fire. “So next time he can hurt her where the bruises won’t show?”

What? He took a step back. “No, of course not.”

“Leave it alone,” she pleaded. “I’ll talk to Annie, okay? Maybe I can help in ways the police can’t.”

Deputy Armbruster shrugged. “Okay, let me know if anything changes.”

“Gabe? We need your help over here,” Merry called. “This patient’s breathing is getting worse.”

“Go ahead, I’ll talk to Annie,” Larissa said.

Reluctantly, he nodded and hurried over to where Merry was standing beside another patient who was clearly in distress. The beeping oxygen-saturation monitor showed numbers that were steadily declining. “Get me an intubation tray now.”

All thoughts regarding his other patients vanished as he quickly focused on saving this gentleman’s life. He placed the breathing tube and then quickly connected the oxygen supply, giving him several slow, deep breaths.

“O2 sat up to 90 percent,” Merry announced with satisfaction.

The respiratory therapist came over to secure the tube. Gabe kept an eye on the guy’s vital signs, reassured that he was holding his own, at least for the moment. “All right, call up to the ICU and let them know we have a patient for them.”

“Will do,” Merry promised.

Gabe did a quick visual check on the other patients under his care before heading back over to where Larissa was sitting beside Annie Hinkle. Annie was staring down at the cast he’d ordered to be placed on her wrist after determining that indeed she’d suffered two minor fractures.

Which could have easily been far worse. The good news was that she wouldn’t need surgery.

The bad news was that he’d have to discharge her home. Back to her abusive husband.

He paused outside the doorway, listening as Larissa spoke softly to Annie. “Here’s my name and phone number,” Larissa said, pressing a small, folded piece of paper into Annie’s uninjured hand. “Call me if you feel afraid, or if you just want to talk. I’d be happy to help in any way I can.”

“Thank you,” Annie whispered. “But really, I’m fine. Just a bit klutzy.”

“Remember what I told you?” Larissa asked.

Annie slowly lifted her gaze to meet Larissa’s. Her softly spoken “yes” sounded almost like an admission.

“Call me anytime,” Larissa repeated.

“I will.”

Gabe stood there for a long moment, wishing he’d heard the entire conversation between the two women. He’d sensed right from the start that Larissa had identified with Annie on a level that he couldn’t possibly imagine.

Because of her previous ER experiences? Or from something more personal? He was surprised by the flash of anger at the thought of someone hurting Larissa.

He signed Annie’s discharge orders, unable to get the thought out of his mind. From the moment he’d first met Larissa, they’d connected on some sort of subliminal level. He was attracted to her, not just because of her pretty face and soft, wavy, blonde hair. But because they were both extremely dedicated to their patients and shared the same interests, like running. He’d caught sight of her several times when he took to the running trails, always giving her a nod of recognition but never stopping to chat.

He’d had to work hard to keep his distance from her. Romance and work did not mix, a lesson he’d learned the hard way.

He’d come to Crystal Lake a year ago, his pride battered and his reputation tarnished. After a year, he’d gained the respect he’d so desperately needed. Soon, he hoped to win the position of medical director for emergency medicine, putting his painful past away once and for all.

He refused to even consider a personal relationship, especially with one of the nurses.

But as he watched Larissa give Annie a brief hug and escort her out the door, he couldn’t help wishing that he’d met Larissa under different circumstances. That she wasn’t a nurse working in the ER with him.

Because he liked her, far too much.

Chapter Two

Larissa finished off the rest of her twelve-hour night shift, grateful when the steady stream of patients slowed to a mere trickle. Between her deep concerns over Annie Hinkle and her ridiculous awareness of Gabe, she was physically and mentally exhausted.

Outside, she paused to stare in awe at the rising sun sliding up the horizon in the east. The beautiful sight helped restore her sense of peace.

Church services would be nice, too, even though it was Saturday she knew Crystal Lake Church always held an early morning service. She slid into her car and headed in the direction of the small, beautiful, white church steeple clearly visible between the leaves of the trees. She was glad it was Memorial Day weekend as she had the next two days off before she had to return to work. As painful as the twelve-hour shifts were to endure, the extra days off were wonderful.

At the stoplight, she yawned so wide her jaw popped. Her eyelids became unbearably heavy, and she pried her eyes open with an effort. Maybe it was better to forgo church services and head home since she was likely to fall asleep anyway. Her apartment was only a few miles away. Thankfully, she made it home without a problem.

Inside, she set her alarm to go off in five hours, so she could try to get back on a day-shift schedule. The worst part about working nights was switching back to day shifts on her days off.

When her alarm blared five hours later, she groaned and staggered over to shut it off. Every cell in her body craved more sleep, but she forced herself to stay upright.

A cup of coffee and a light breakfast helped clear away the lingering fog hovering along the edges of her mind. She stared outside at the bright sunlight. What she needed was a good rush of adrenalin. She tugged her running gear on, pulled her wavy hair back into a ponytail to keep it off her neck. A visor helped block the harsh rays from the sun as she headed outside.

The first half mile was the hardest, but once she hit her stride and wound her way along the jogging trail, shaded by towering trees, she felt every one of her muscles relax into an exhilarating rhythm. Other than being in church, these were the times she felt the closest to God, and she silently recited a prayer as she ran.

Distant sounds of laughter wafted up from the lake, where locals and tourists were enjoying the water. She lived in a small apartment building outside of town without direct access to the lake, although buying a small house on the water was one of her goals.

Maybe next year, she thought with a smile. She’d come to Crystal Lake to escape a bad relationship and to get far away from the high crime rate of Chicago. The night the cops busted up a drug deal going down in the apartment across the hall from hers had pushed her over the edge.

So far, she absolutely loved it here in Crystal Lake.

Her peaceful run was abruptly interrupted by the harsh roar of a motorbike. She hugged the side of the trail, peering over her shoulder to make sure she saw the cyclist before he came upon her unexpectedly.

The growl of the engine became louder, and she stifled a sliver of unease. One wrong move on this dirt-packed, hilly trail could result in disaster.

The motorbike abruptly crested the hill, heading straight toward her. She leaped off the trail to get out of harm’s way. But she landed off balance, her foot slipping on loose rocks and branches. She went down hard. The motorbike swerved around a curve, the driver letting out a loud whoop.

“Idiot,” she muttered, assessing for injuries. Her knees and the palms of her hands were scraped raw from her tumble, but it could have been worse.

She stood, and her right ankle zinged with pain. Great. Just what she needed—a sprained ankle roughly two and a half miles from home.

The sound of the motorbike grew louder again, and she stared at the trail, unable to believe the guy had the nerve to come back after the reckless stunt he’d pulled. Sure enough, he was riding down the trail, once again headed straight for her.

For a split second, she had the distinct impression that he was purposely trying to run her down. She scrambled out of the way, grasping the trunk of a tree for support as the motorbike whizzed by, so close that she could feel the heat from the engine blasting against her legs.

She clung to the tree for several long moments, afraid the motorcyclist was going to come back for a third time. She sent up a silent prayer, thanking God for her safety, before she finally let go of the tree and hobbled back onto the trail. She limped as pain reverberated up her leg with every step. Finding a thick tree branch, she improvised, using it as a walking stick.

The soft thud of footsteps on the trail made her tense. She forced herself to relax; there was no reason the driver of the motorbike would decide to come back on foot. It wasn’t unusual to pass other joggers on the trail.

Sure enough, a runner came into view. A tall man, wearing a sweaty orange T-shirt and navy blue shorts, with ear buds tucked into his ears blocking out the noise. Personally, she didn’t get why anyone would want to listen to music while running when the peace and quiet was