Читать книгу: «A Thanksgiving To Remember»
VANDERBILT MEMORIAL HOSPITAL MEDICAL NOTES
PATIENT: TOM FLYNT ATTENDING NURSE: TINA WHITE
Patient Flynt set to be released; still has no memories of who he is.
Wounds to head have healed rapidly.
Fast progress due to patient’s incredible physique and remarkable fitness.
Could invite patient over for Thanksgiving meal—no use in us both being alone for the holiday.
Am supposed to be taking care of patient—why do I feel like he’s trying to take care of me…?
Dear Reader,
The 20th anniversary excitement continues as we bring you a 2-in-1 collection containing brand-new novellas by two of your favorite authors: Maggie Shayne and Marilyn Pappano. Who Do You Love? It’s an interesting question—made more complicated for these heroes and heroines because they’re not quite what they seem, making the path to happily-ever-after an especially twisty one. Enjoy!
A YEAR OF LOVING DANGEROUSLY continues with Her Secret Weapon by bestselling writer Beverly Barton. This is a great secret-baby story—with a forgotten night of passion thrown in to make things even more exciting. Our in-line 36 HOURS spin-off continues with A Thanksgiving To Remember, by Margaret Watson. Suspenseful and sensual, this story shows off her talents to their fullest. Applaud the return of Justine Davis with The Return of Luke McGuire. There’s something irresistible about a bad boy turned hero, and Justine’s compelling and emotional handling of the theme will win your heart. In The Lawman Meets His Bride, Meagan McKinney brings her MATCHED IN MONTANA miniseries over from Desire with an exciting romance featuring a to-die-for hero. Finally, pick up The Virgin Beauty by Claire King and discover why this relative newcomer already has people talking about her talent.
Share the excitement—and come back next month for more!
Leslie J. Wainger
Executive Senior Editor
A Thanksgiving to Remember
Margaret Watson
For Mom.
Thanks for believing in me and being my biggest fan.
MARGARET WATSON
From the time she learned to read, Margaret could usually be found with her nose in a book. Her lifelong passion for reading led to her interest in writing, and now she’s happily writing exactly the kind of stories she likes to read. Margaret is a veterinarian who lives in the Chicago suburbs with her husband and their three daughters. In her spare time she enjoys rollerblading, bird-watching and spending time with her family. Readers can write to Margaret at P.O. Box 2333, Naperville, IL 60567-2333.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 1
“I need help here, White!”
The bark of the doctor’s voice cut through the din of the emergency room and nurse Tina White looked up from the patient she was bandaging. “I’ll be right there,” she called.
She looked down at the woman lying on the table with an encouraging smile. “You’re going to be fine,” she said, her voice low and reassuring. “You heard what the doctor said. Your wrist is only sprained, and although it will hurt for a few days, you’ll be back to normal before you know it.”
She applied the last piece of tape and eased the woman’s injured arm back onto the table. “The doctor will be back in a moment, and she’ll probably let you go home.”
Giving the woman another reassuring smile, Tina moved to the next cubicle. The emergency room doctor was working on an unconscious man, and Tina moved to the other side of the exam table. Her stomach clenched as she looked at the blood that covered his face and the left side of his head. “Surely he didn’t get these injuries in the chaos at the masquerade ball earlier this evening?” she asked, moving instinctively to staunch the flow of blood from the man’s head.
“Car accident,” the doctor answered tersely as he examined the patient. “The police said he was one of two men who ran out of the hotel when the lights went out.”
Tina raised her head and looked over at the doctor. “What was he doing?”
The doctor shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe he was the guy who fired the shots. We won’t know anything until he wakes up.”
Tina looked down at the man who lay so silent and still on the table. His short, dark brown hair was disheveled and his face was pale and streaked with blood, but something about his features tugged at Tina. “He doesn’t look like a criminal.”
The doctor snorted. “Most criminals don’t.” His hands moved over the patient, gentle yet probing. “No matter who he is, he’s one lucky guy. That cut on his head is going to need suturing and it feels like he might have a couple of broken ribs and a concussion, but other than that he looks like he’s going to be all right.”
Tina pressed on the gauze pad she was holding over the wound on the man’s head, holding it more firmly to slow the bleeding. “What do you want me to do?”
The doctor raked his eyes over the patient, giving him an assessing look that Tina recognized. Then he said, “Get him cleaned up so I can suture that cut. Our first priority is to stop that bleeding. Then start another bag of fluids. The first one is almost finished.”
They worked in silence for the next half hour. The doctor occasionally muttered a request to Tina, but she usually anticipated his needs and handed him an instrument before he asked. When the doctor finally stepped back, there was a neat line of sutures along the left side of the stranger’s head.
“Get that bandaged, then we’ll get him into X-ray and get a scan of his head and chest. I want to make sure there isn’t any other damage.”
Tina gently covered the wound with bandage and tape, then hovered over their unconscious patient, reluctant to leave him alone. “Is there anyone with him?”
“The paramedics told me he was alone in the car. I have no idea if the police have managed to locate his family.” He looked around the emergency room, where the chaos that had reigned earlier was beginning to subside. “It looks like things have quieted down a little.” He shook his head. “I don’t think this is the way most of these people planned to spend their Halloween.” He glanced around again. “Can you take this one over to X-ray, or should I call an orderly?”
Tina didn’t tell the doctor that her shift on another floor of the hospital had ended several hours ago, or that she had volunteered to help in the busy emergency room. “Don’t bother with an orderly,” she said at once. “I’ll take him.”
The doctor helped her load the man onto a gurney, then she wheeled him out of the emergency room and over to the X-ray department. The technician glanced briefly down at the patient, then looked back at Tina. “Another one from the Steele ball?”
“Car accident,” she said, handing him the papers the emergency-room doctor had filled out. “He needs a scan of his head and chest.”
The technician looked at the papers and frowned. “These don’t have any insurance information. We need that before we can get started.”
Tina’s temper flared. “You know that’s not true in an emergency,” she said, her voice cold. “He was alone in the car and the police haven’t brought his ID in yet. I’m sure you’ll get the information as soon as it’s available. But we need that scan now.”
The technician gave her patient a dubious glance, then shrugged. “If you say so. All I do is fill out the paperwork.”
Tina smoothed a protective hand over the bandage on the unconscious man’s head as she struggled to control her temper.
He came around the desk to help her push the gurney into a cubicle. “They’re not exactly standing in line here at two in the morning.”
Tina stood in the waiting room while the technician performed the tests on her patient, pacing from one side to the other. “What’s the matter with you?” she muttered to herself. “This guy is just another patient.”
But he wasn’t just another patient. For some reason, Tina felt unusually protective toward the unnamed man. Maybe it was because he was completely helpless and alone, no one waiting anxiously for him in the waiting room, no one to hold his hand as he lay unconscious. Or maybe it was because of the doctor’s quick, careless assumption that he was a criminal.
Or maybe it was because she found him attractive. She forced herself to face the truth. Even though his face was pasty-white and a bandage covered half his head, he was still a very handsome man. Thick eyelashes fanned out against his pale cheeks. His face was lean, but there were lines around his eyes that told her he smiled frequently. She wondered what color those eyes were, wondered if she would see kindness or indifference in them when he woke up.
It didn’t matter, she told herself, appalled at the direction her thoughts were taking. She didn’t moon over men she was nursing. She was a professional, dedicated to giving her patients the best care she possibly could. And as a professional, she didn’t get involved with her patients, either.
Thank goodness she had remembered that, she told herself firmly.
The door to the X-ray cubicle opened and the technician wheeled out the gurney. “Here’s your boy,” he said, maneuvering the gurney into place next to the desk.
“What did you find?” Tina found herself leaning toward the technician, her heart pounding.
The technician shrugged. “I have no idea. The radiologist has been busy tonight and it’ll be a while before he gets to your scans. A lot of people got hurt in that mess at the Steeles’ ball. After David and Lisa Steele got themselves shot, everyone panicked and tried to get out at the same time. They’re still getting people into the emergency room.”
“You’re right. I just thought you might have taken a look.”
The technician shook his head. “I put them in the box for the doc to look at. He’ll get to them as soon as he can.”
“All right.” Tina swallowed her disappointment. The technician wasn’t the one who would diagnose any problems, anyway. “I’ll go ahead and take him up to his room.”
The unnamed man lay still and unmoving as Tina pushed the heavy gurney to the elevator, then rolled him into the room he’d been assigned. She was absurdly happy that he was on the floor where she usually worked. His breathing was steady and regular as she hooked him up to the monitors that would keep track of his vital signs. Finally, when she was finished, she stood back and looked at him for a moment.
Lights flashed and blinked, and a low, steady hum seemed to fill the room. The numbers on the monitor attached to his intravenous line glowed at her, and she looked around at the stark, cheerless room. Anyone who woke up alone in a hospital room would be frightened and confused.
She didn’t want this man to wake up with only machines for company. Although her legs ached after working for more than twelve hours and her tired eyes were gritty and hot, she sat down in the chair next to the bed.
She’d only been there for a few minutes when someone walked into the room. Tina turned around and faced a beefy man in a slightly-too-small suit who walked over to the bed and stared down at her patient.
“Is he awake yet?”
She jumped up from her chair and stepped between the man and her patient, and the man took a step backward. “Who are you?” she demanded.
He pulled a wallet out of the inner pocket of his suit jacket and flashed a badge at her. “Detective Bob Jones, Grand Springs Police Department.” He held the badge in front of her nose long enough for her to read it, then snapped the wallet shut and replaced it in his pocket. He nodded toward the bed. “Is he awake?”
“No, he’s still unconscious,” Tina answered.
Bob Jones peered around her at the man on the bed, as if he suspected she wasn’t telling him the truth. “How long before he wakes up?”
“No one knows,” she said coolly. “And when he does wake up, it may be a while before you can question him.”
The detective glanced over at her, and Tina felt him assessing her. Finally he nodded. “I’ll talk to his doctor,” he said, his voice dismissive.
“He’ll tell you the same thing.” Tina lifted her chin into the air.
The detective shrugged. “We’ll see.”
Tina glanced behind her, but her patient was still unconscious. “Have you found out who he was and located his family?” she asked.
“We found his driver’s license. His name is Tom Flynt. We’re trying to locate his family, but so far no luck.” He looked at her more intently. It felt like a laser had suddenly swung around on her. “Has he said anything to you?”
“He’s been unconscious since the paramedics brought him into the ER,” she said.
The detective’s gaze was penetrating as he watched her. “There’s something else you ought to know about this guy,” he said after a moment.
Tina bristled at the way the detective referred to her patient as “this guy.”
“What’s that?”
Jones nodded at the man lying on the hospital bed. “The paramedics found a gun in a holster, strapped to his back.”
Tina felt her stomach swoop away from her. “What does that mean?”
“I’ve got no idea. But since David and Lisa Steele were shot and killed tonight and he ran out of the ball, it makes me very interested in talking to Mr. Flynt.” He paused, and his shrewd gaze raked over her again, pausing at her name tag. “Keep that in mind, Ms. White. And let me know when he wakes up.”
He turned and walked out the door without looking back.
Tina listened to his footsteps fade away, then sank back down in the chair next to the bed. “Who are you?” she whispered, watching his face.
But he didn’t move, didn’t respond. She would have to wait until he woke up for answers, just like everyone else. “At least we know your name now,” she said. “Your name is Tom. Tom Flynt.”
She watched for some sign that he had heard her, some glimmer of recognition, but there was nothing. Sighing, she leaned forward and rested her arms on the bed rail. “You can wake up anytime now,” she said. “Everyone wants to know what you were doing at the ball, and why you ran out of the hotel. Why were you there, Tom Flynt? Were you chasing a killer?”
Her voice was low in the darkened room, but her attention was focused completely on her patient. “I don’t think you shot the Steeles,” she murmured. “You don’t look like a criminal.”
She blushed when she heard her words, wondering where they had come from. It was too late and she was too tired, she told herself. It made her speak before she thought. But it didn’t matter. No one else could hear her, least of all the unconscious Tom Flynt.
Better, though, to concentrate on her job. His right hand was curled slightly, and she took his fingers gently in hers. “You don’t want to crimp your IV line,” she said softly. Even though he couldn’t hear her, it felt right to talk to him, to let him know he wasn’t alone. “The night nurse wouldn’t like it if she had to get someone up here to start another IV.”
She tried to straighten his fingers, but his hand curled around hers and held her lightly. His large hand engulfed her much smaller one, cradling it gently. Warmth stole up her arm. Absurdly, she felt like he was reassuring her. And protecting her. Heat flared in her face as she stared at the unknown man.
“I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” she murmured, leaning forward and looking into his face. “Why do I feel like you’re trying to take care of me?” She wondered if it had anything to do with the murders at the masquerade ball. “Everyone is safe now, including you. You’re going to be fine.”
He didn’t answer, of course. He lay motionless and silent, but he didn’t let go of her hand.
It was the darkest part of the night and he was alone, so instead of pulling away, Tina curled her fingers around his hand and squeezed gently. No one would ever know, she told herself, including her mystery patient. There was no need to hurry back to the emergency room. Most of the patients were already taken care of, and she was supposed to be off duty, anyway.
“Let me tell you what we did for you tonight, Mr. Flynt,” she said, her low voice surrounding them in the semidarkness of the hospital room. “You had a car accident,” she began. She spoke slowly and calmly, knowing he couldn’t hear her words, but hoping that the sound of her voice would somehow comfort him. He didn’t let go of her hand, and Tina felt an invisible connection growing between them in the quiet of the impersonal hospital room.
That was absurd, of course. He was simply a patient, and she was only his nurse.
But she continued to talk to him, pausing frequently to look over the machines and make sure his pulse and heartbeat and respiration were normal. The floor nurse looked into the room a few times, but Tina waved her away.
Finally, as the first few streaks of dawn were appearing on the horizon outside the window, the floor nurse came into the room one last time.
“What are you still doing here, Tina?” she asked.
Tina eased her hand away from her patient’s and turned around to face the other nurse. “Keeping him company. It always bothers me when we have patients who don’t have any family.”
The other nurse’s face softened. “Yeah, I know what you mean. But didn’t your shift end at eleven last night?”
“I went down to the emergency room to help out. They were really swamped with patients who had been at the Steele masquerade ball.”
“I heard about that.” The other nurse frowned. “Is it true that David and Lisa Steele were killed?”
“It’s true. And apparently the killer got away.”
“Was this guy hurt at the ball?” The nurse gestured at the patient in the bed.”
“No, he was in a car accident. He might have been chasing the man who shot the Steeles.”
The other nurse’s eyes opened wide. “Was he with the killer?”
“Why would you think that?” Fatigue sharpened Tina’s voice, and she struggled to steady it. “I have no idea. I’m sure he’ll be able to tell us when he wakes up.”
The other nurse gave the man an assessing look. “He looks pretty stable right now. You’d better go home and get some sleep, Tina. With all these patients, we’re going to need you back at work later today.”
“You’re right.” Tina glanced at Tom Flynt one more time, then turned away. “I’ll be back for my shift this afternoon.” She hesitated, then asked, “Is Detective Jones still out there?”
“He sure is. He strikes me as the kind who doesn’t give up easily.”
“Don’t let him bully you.”
The other nurse grinned at her. “I’d like to see him try.”
Tina smiled back. “That’s what I figured you would say, Jenny.” And that’s why she’d mentioned it. Now it would be a point of honor for Jenny to protect Tom Flynt.
She wanted to ask Jenny to have someone call her if the man’s condition changed, but she stopped herself just in time. She must really be tired, she thought as she stood up, to think about lowering her guard too far and showing her feelings. It was a good thing she was going home. Maybe by the time she returned in the afternoon, she would have reassembled the careful barrier she kept around her emotions.
She allowed herself one last look at Tom Flynt’s still form lying on the bed before she turned and left the room.
Tina slept lightly, waking up more than once from a disturbing dream. She told herself that it was merely because of the many injured people she had helped treat the night before, but too many of the dreams featured the still, unconscious face of Tom Flynt, their mystery patient. Finally, at mid-morning, she flung the blankets off the bed and gave up trying to sleep.
She puttered around the house in the bright sunshine. It was hard to believe it was the first of November, but she knew the air would hold a bite of winter when she stepped outside. Already there was snow in the mountains surrounding the town, and it wouldn’t be long before they had snow in Grand Springs.
Tina did her morning chores automatically, then sat down to read her newspaper and drink a cup of coffee. The newspaper was full of stories about Jonathan Steele’s masquerade ball and the murders of his brother David and sister-in-law Lisa. Finally, Tina closed the paper and went upstairs to get dressed. She was too restless to stay at home until her shift started. Besides, with all the patients who had been admitted the night before, they probably needed extra hands to help out.
“Face it,” she told herself, “you just want to get back to the hospital to see Tom Flynt.”
Of course she wanted to see how her patient was doing, she thought defensively. She had spent a great deal of time with him the night before. It was only natural to be curious.
But her interest was far more than curiosity. Here in the safety of her own house, she could admit it. Tom Flynt had fascinated her. And the fact that he had been carrying a gun only compounded her interest.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with you,” she scolded herself, as she pulled on a clean white uniform. “You, of all people, should know enough to stay away from a man with a gun.”
But it didn’t matter. She was suddenly in a fever of anticipation to get back to the hospital and see if Tom Flynt had woken up, and how he was doing. Once he was awake, her interest would end, she told herself. Once she’d talked to him, she’d see he was an ordinary man, just like all the others. And on top of that, a man who carried a gun.
She drove through Grand Springs, marveling at the fact that everything looked so normal. There was no trace of the chaos and tragedy that had struck the town the night before. It looked like the peaceful, quiet place it had been since the last disaster, a blackout, had hit the town several years earlier.
When she arrived at the hospital, a couple of hours early for her shift, she hurried to her floor. She almost swept past the nursing desk, but stopped herself just in time. She paused and smiled at the harried-looking nurse reading a file.
“Hi, Sue,” she said, and the nurse looked up at her.
“Oh, hi, Tina,” she answered, surprise in her voice. “What are you doing here? You’re on afternoons, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but I figured we’d be busy so I thought I’d come in early.”
Sue’s face relaxed in a grateful smile. “That’s great. Thanks. We’ve been running all day. We can always count on you, Tina.”
Tina nodded in the direction of Tom’s room, hoping her interest looked casual. “I took care of Tom Flynt, the man with the concussion. How’s he doing?”
Sue grabbed Tom’s chart and glanced at it. “About the same, it looks like.”
“Is he still unconscious?”
“As far as I know.”
Tina nodded. “I think I’ll look in on him, as long as I’m here.”
Tina hurried away from the desk and stepped into Tom’s room. It was much brighter in the light of day, and the sunlight slanted off his face, making his beard look dark and heavy. It didn’t look like he’d moved since she had left a few hours before.
She stood watching him for a moment, then sat down in the chair that still stood next to his bed. “Hi, Tom,” she said in a low voice, as she watched him. “I just stopped by to see how you were doing before I reported in to work.”
As she spoke to him, she thought she saw him stir. She paused for a moment, then spoke again, in the same low voice. “Are you getting ready to wake up? It’s all right. You’re safe now, and there are a lot of people here to help take care of you.”
This time he definitely moved, and Tina’s hands tightened on the bed rail. She saw his throat muscles ripple as he swallowed once, then his eyes fluttered open.
Her first thought was that he had beautiful eyes. They were light brown, the color of well-aged whiskey. When she realized what she was thinking, she shook her head. What was the matter with her?
She leaned toward the bed. “Hello, Tom,” she said in a low voice. “How do you feel?”
He looked up at her, a puzzled look on his face. “Who are you? Where am I? What’s going on?”
It wasn’t unusual for accident victims not to recall their accident once they recovered consciousness. “You had a car accident last night, just outside Grand Springs city limits. You’re at Vanderbilt Memorial Hospital, and you’re going to be fine.” She smiled down at him and lightly touched his hand. “The doctor can tell you exactly what’s wrong with you, but you have a cut on your head that we sutured, and you had a concussion. Hold on a minute, I want to get the doctor.”
She hurried out of the room and down to the desk. “Sue, Tom Flynt just woke up. Will you call the doctor? I’ll go back and stay with him.”
Without waiting for an answer, Tina hurried back to the hospital room. Tom Flynt was trying to sit up, and Tina eased him back onto the bed. “Why don’t you wait until the doctor gets here before you try to get up? He’s going to want to take a good look at you, Mr. Flynt.”
He stared at her, and she saw the confusion in his eyes, and the growing fear. “I don’t understand,” he whispered, his voice harsh and scratchy. “What car accident? What’s Grand Springs? And who is Tom Flynt?”
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