Читать книгу Her Christmas Wish - Cindi Myers, Cindi Myers - Страница 10

The problem with inviting Alina to the barbecue, Eric decided, was that he hadn’t found any opportunity to be alone with her. After his conversation with his brothers, he’d been acutely aware of everyone watching whenever he so much as looked at Alina.

“So I have to find a way to ask her out without it really being a date,” he explained to Marty as the two cruised around town in an ambulance the following Monday. They’d taken the vehicle in for an oil change and were now driving the long way back to the station.

“Why not just ask her out on a date?” Marty asked.

“Because if I do that, word will get back to my mother and grandmother, and they’ll decide to take matters into their own hands.”

“What are you talking about?” Marty asked.

“My mother and grandmother have decided it’s time I was married,” he said.

“Why now?” Marty asked.

“I’m the only one of my siblings who isn’t married. Also, I suspect my mom thinks if I’m married I’ll settle down and give up the idea of going away to medical school.”

“I thought every mother wanted her son to be a doctor.”

“Believe me, when I’m a doctor she’ll be proud as can be. But she thinks I’m too ambitious, that I’m going to get in over my head, incur a mountain of debt, kill myself studying and working, become estranged from my family…If there’s a worst-case scenario, my mother has imagined it.”

“So she wants you to marry and settle down here in Gunnison. I get that. Then they ought to be happy if you start dating someone, shouldn’t they?”

“Only if it’s the right someone.”

“And Alina isn’t the right someone?”

“Alina is from another country—and plans to return there in a few months.” The knowledge made his stomach hurt.

“Ah. And your folks want you to settle down with a cute little Latina.”

“Exactly. So you see my problem.”

Marty shook his head. “Not really. Going out with a woman doesn’t mean you’re going to marry her. And you’re twenty-six years old. What’s your mother going to do—send you to bed without your supper?”

“Very funny. You don’t know my mother. And my grandmother is twice as bad. When I was ten and decided I didn’t like green beans, she served them to me every night for six months. It was easier to give in and choke them down than face six more months of seeing them on my plate every time I sat down to dinner.”

“There’s a big difference between a vegetable and the woman you’ll spend the rest of your life with,” Marty said.

“My mother and grandmother can be relentless when they’re trying to make a point,” Eric said. “If I start dating Alina, they’ll set me up with other women they think are more suitable. Every time I turn around one will just ‘happen’ to be there. Alina will think I’m some kind of playboy.”

“I guess Alina wouldn’t like that,” Marty said.

“Especially not when we hardly know each other,” Eric said. “The only chance I have is if the two of us can become friends before my family has a chance to interfere.”

“Then whatever your family does, she’ll be so besotted it won’t matter?” Marty said.

Or maybe he’d be so enamored he’d find a way to stand up to his folks. “I just want us to be able to have a good time before she has to go back to Croatia, that’s all,” he said. Though he hated to admit it, there was some truth in what his brothers had said—part of his interest in Alina probably lay in the fact that any relationship with her was destined to be temporary.

But since she was leaving soon, he couldn’t afford to waste any time he might spend with her now.

A loud tone from the radio alerted them to a call. “Elderly woman needs assistance at Lifeway Manor, two-one-one-two West Virginia Avenue.”

Eric and Marty exchanged a look. “The bowling ladies,” Marty said.

“Yeah, the bowling ladies,” Eric said grimly, and switched on the siren and flashing lights.

“Copy, dispatch. We’re on our way,” Marty said.

Lifeway Manor was an assisted-living facility not far from downtown. The elderly residents were mostly independent, living in separate apartments with access to a central dining facility, an on-site medical clinic and a host of planned activities.

The newest addition to the activity schedule, and the cause of great excitement among the residents, was a series of baseball games, golf tournaments and other games which the residents could “play” thanks to the latest video game technology. With these games, even wheelchair-bound residents could take to the links or to the basketball court. This had led to the formation of teams and a healthy competition among the residents.

But no group was more rabid or competitive than the women’s bowling league. The nineteen women who competed in the bowling tournaments battled with such intensity that several of them were familiar faces to members of the Gunnison Valley Emergency Medical Services crews.

First had been Carla Polenski, who had thrown out her shoulder while bowling a virtual strike. Then Betty Peabody had gotten stuck in the elevator when she pressed all the buttons at once in her haste not to be late to a scheduled game. Pearl Winters had fainted when her blood pressure spiked during an argument over scoring.

Tonight’s casualty was one June Freed, a pleasant-faced munchkin of a woman who had fallen in her rush to reach the game room ahead of her archrival Opal Simpson. “She always gets there first and camps out in my favorite chair,” June griped as Eric examined her swollen arm. “I’m sick and tired of it, I tell you.”

“It looks like your arm might be broken,” Eric said. “You’ll need to have an X ray to know for sure. Do you want us to take you to the hospital in the ambulance?”

“No. I already called my son. He’ll take me. But not before the tournament is over.”

“Why don’t you just take the game away from them?” Eric asked the harried administrator as he completed the required paperwork at the nurse’s station.

“Oh, I couldn’t do that.” The administrator’s eyes widened. “They’d revolt. When the golf game malfunctioned for two weeks, some of the men staged a sit-in in the main dining room. They threatened to call the newspapers if we didn’t have the game repaired immediately. One of them even said he’d have his grandson film a protest for YouTube.”

“Maybe you should take Alina bowling,” Marty said as he and Eric headed back toward the station. “It’s obviously a more exciting game than I imagined.”

Eric gave him a sour look.

“So what are you going to do about her?” Marty persisted.

“We need to do something with friends that still provides the opportunity for the two of us to be alone.” Eric glanced at his friend. “What do you think of Marissa?”

Marty blinked. “I don’t know. She seems nice enough. Why?”

“You should ask her to come with us. That will help Alina feel more at ease.” He flipped on his blinker for the turn into the station.

“Us? Since when am I involved in this?”

“Since now.” Eric backed the ambulance into its bay, ready for the next call-out.

Maddie came out to meet them. “I just heard from Hagan,” she said. “It’s snowing in the high country. They could get eight to ten inches tonight.”

“That’s perfect,” Eric said.

“Spoken like a man who doesn’t have to shovel his driveway,” Marty said.

“No, this is great. Maddie, you and Hagan have a snowmobile, don’t you?”

“Sure. You want to borrow it?”

“No, my brothers have a couple we can use. Would you and Hagan like to go snowmobiling this weekend? We could ask Max and Casey and some other folks—make a party of it.”

“Okay.” Maddie looked from one man to the other. “Why do I get the feeling there’s more behind this than the desire to take advantage of the fresh snow?”

“Eric doesn’t care about the rest of us,” Marty said. “We’re just giving him an excuse to romance Alina Allinova.”

“Since when do you need all of us to do that?” Maddie asked.

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.” She crossed her arms and leaned back against the ambulance.

“Just let me know if you’re free to go snowmobiling with us this weekend.”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” she said. “I’m anxious to meet a woman who has you calling in reinforcements.”

ALINA HAD ENROLLED in technical college with the intention of training to be an X ray technician. A friend had explained this was the perfect career, offering high pay and flexible hours.

But the introductory course she needed had been full, and the student counselor had convinced her to try a respiratory therapist course instead. After one evening clinic at the hospital, watching her instructor assist a little girl with asthma and an elderly man with emphysema, Alina was hooked. Taking pictures and developing film seemed boring in comparison to saving lives by helping people to breathe.

Already on this Tuesday evening she’d treated an accident victim with a collapsed lung, done a blood gas analysis on another patient and administered breathing treatments to three patients, including Mr. Herrerra, an elderly man with chronic obstructive pulmonary disorder. “Your oxygen levels are much better today,” she said, removing the pulse oxymeter from Mr. Herrera’s finger. “If you keep improving this way, you’ll be going home in no time.”

“I wish the home health aide that comes to my house was as pretty as you are,” he said.

“I bet you say that to all the women.” She stowed the pulse oxymeter and packed up the nebulizer. “You have a good night, and a safe trip home if I don’t see you tomorrow.”

She wheeled the cart with her supplies back into the corridor to the nurses’ station, where she could record her activities and findings in Mr. Herrerra’s chart. A small window nearby looked out onto the hospital parking lot and a lacy curtain of snowflakes illuminated by the floodlights.

She thought she’d known winter before coming to Colorado. After all, Croatia had mountains and plenty of snow. But she’d never seen a winter like her first in Gunnison. Snow piled higher than the roofs and the turning lanes of the streets filled with great drifts pushed there by the plows. Temperatures hovered near zero for weeks at a time, while the sun glared off everything, bright but giving little warmth.

Despite the chill, people embraced the weather, devoting themselves to every kind of activity involving snow, from skiing and sledding to ice sculpture competitions and snowshoe races.

“Mr. Herrerra says he’s in love.” Marissa stood at Alina’s elbow. Dressed in raspberry-pink scrubs, a stethoscope draped around her neck, she was the picture of the efficient nurse.

“With you?” Alina asked.

“A little bit with me. Mostly with you. You have another conquest.”

“A seventy-seven-year-old boyfriend. I’m so flattered.”

“Speaking of boyfriends, have you seen Eric lately?”

“No.” She’d thought of him often since Sunday; the sight of dark hair and the red shirts of the Gunnison Valley EMS was enough to make her heart race and her head turn.

“You could always call him,” Marissa said.

“No, I could not.”

“Of course you could.”

“But I don’t want to.” If he was really as interested as Marissa had said, he would have called her.

“But you could.”

“Enough, Marissa. I have work to do.”

“Did you hear Amy Fremont is leaving after the first of the year?”

“Really?” Amy was head of the respiratory therapy department at Gunnison Valley Hospital.

“Her husband’s retiring and they’re building a house near Lake Powell.”

“How do you know these things?” Alina asked.

Marissa shrugged. “I hear stuff. For instance, I know Eric Sepulveda has never been involved with anyone.”

Eric again. “Never? Not even a high school crush?”

“I mean, seriously involved. No engagements. Never lived with anyone. He’s dated a lot, but never any one woman for very long.”

“That’s not so unusual.” She’d never been engaged or involved with anyone, either. Not for lack of trying—she’d dated a number of men, but had never fallen in love with any of them.

“He’s the youngest in his family and the only one who isn’t married.”

“I’m the only one in my family who isn’t married,” Alina said. “And you’re not married, either.”

“I’m the oldest in my family. You’re the youngest. And so is Eric. See—you have lots in common.” Marissa sounded positively gleeful.

“Why are you so interested in me and Eric?” Alina asked. “I’ve been here eight months and you haven’t cared who I dated or didn’t date.”

“I have a good feeling about you two,” Marissa said. “And didn’t you know I’m a hopeless romantic?”

“Hopeless is right.”

“Hi. Are you Alina Allinova?”

Alina started, and saw a woman with brown curly hair moving down the corridor toward her. The newcomer wore the red shirt and dark pants of the Emergency Medical Service. “Y-yes. I’m Alina,” she stammered.

“I’m Maddie Ansdar.” The woman offered her hand. “I just transported a patient here, and I’ve heard so much about you I wanted to meet you.”

“Heard about her from whom?” Marissa asked.

“Oh, different people.” Maddie sketched a vague gesture in the air. “I understand you’re from Croatia. I skied there several times—at Bjelolasica.”

Alina’s eyes widened. Most people she’d met had never heard of Bjelolasica, much less knew how to pronounce it. “My family went there on vacations several times when I was younger,” she said. In college, groups of friends had often rented chalets for the weekend, skiing all day and partying into the night. Those days felt very long ago.

“I didn’t get to see much of the country other than the slopes,” Maddie said. “But what I saw was beautiful.”

“We never saw many Americans there,” Alina said. “Most of them prefer to travel to the Alps in France or Italy.”

“I was on the U.S. Olympic team and competed in some World Cup races there,” Maddie said. “At least I did until I injured my leg.”

“And now you’re in Gunnison. Are you from here?”

Maddie shook her head. “I live in Crested Butte. I worked for the ski patrol for a while and met my husband and decided to stay.”

“You must know Eric and Marty,” Marissa said.

“I do.” Maddie looked at Alina expectantly.

Alina felt as if she were in a play where everyone knew their lines but her. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Maddie,” she said.

“Have you talked to Eric lately?” Maddie asked.

“No. Should I have?”

“Oh, I imagine you will soon.”

The idea pleased Alina. “When you see him, tell him I said hello.”

“I’ll do that.” The women said goodbye and Alina turned back to her paperwork.

“This is looking good,” Marissa said. “He’s been talking about you to his coworkers. He’s crazy about you.”

“He can’t get too crazy,” Alina said. “I’m only going to be here until January.”

“A lot can happen in a few months. You might decide this is true love.”

“Oh, please!” Alina protested, even as her heart pounded. “You told me Eric has never had a serious girlfriend and he’s the only one of his siblings who hasn’t been married. Does that sound like the kind of man who wants to settle down to you?”

“Yes. He’s sown all his wild oats and is ready to fall in love. And I think you’re the woman he’s fallen in love with.”

Alina’s heart stomped out a frenzied folk dance. “The man hardly knows me.”

Marissa shrugged. “Some people are meant to be together.”

So her grandmother had always said. And according to Baka Fania, the person Alina was meant to be with was a big, good-looking blond. Someone like Marty—who as far as Alina could tell was a sweet, shy, absolutely boring man who generated not a single spark in her. And none of the other blond men she’d dated over the years had sparked any feelings in her, either.

So much for grandmother knowing best.

ERIC KNEW he made a good impression in his dark jeans and leather jacket. Female heads turned as he passed through the corridors of Gunnison Valley Hospital Wednesday afternoon, and he resisted the urge to stop and flirt with the prettier nurses, aides and one attractive female surgeon. He had a mission to accomplish and he couldn’t afford to be distracted.

He found Alina in the hallway outside a patient’s room, marking something on the chart by the door. “Hey,” he said, and stopped beside her.

Her pale complexion blushed prettily, reminding him of a fast-motion film of a rose blooming. “Hello,” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine.” She clicked her pen several times rapidly before shoving it into the pocket of her pale blue scrubs. “What can I do for you?”

“A group of us are going snowmobiling this weekend up by Kebler Pass. I’m hoping you can go with us.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I…I’ll have to check my schedule.”

“I talked to Marissa, and she thought you might be free Saturday,” Eric said. “She’s coming with us. So is Marty and some other people, mostly from Crested Butte. But they’re great folks. You’ll like them.”

Alina hesitated.

“Have you been snowmobiling before?” he asked. “It’s a lot of fun.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Then you should come. Who knows when you’ll have the chance again?”

“All right,” she said. “I’d like that.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up about eight Saturday morning.”

“All right. I’ll give you my address.”

“No problem. I already got it from Marissa.”

She looked surprised, but said nothing. Eric would like to be a fly on the wall when she talked to Marissa about that. “I guess I’ll see you then,” she said.

Clearly she expected him to leave, but he lingered, reluctant to break off their conversation. This was the longest they’d ever spent alone, and he wanted to make the most of it. He followed her to the supply closet and watched while she replenished the supplies on her cart. “What made you decide to become a respiratory therapist?” he asked.

“I liked that it was a way to really help people,” she said. “Patients come to me, unable to breathe, and I can make a real difference for them.”

“Why not a doctor or a nurse?”

She shrugged. “That took money and training I didn’t have. This was more immediate. More specialized. A doctor has to know everything. I’m able to concentrate on doing this one thing well. And it’s very hands-on. Medicine isn’t always like that.”

“You’re right, but medicine offers a lot of variety. I’m hoping to be a doctor one day. I’ve completed my undergraduate work—I’ll start medical school next fall.”

“Really?”

Again the look of surprise. Well, she wouldn’t be the first person to underestimate him. He enjoyed proving them wrong. “I’ve applied for some grants and scholarships,” he said. “It won’t be easy to pull everything together, but I’m determined.”