Читать книгу Her Little Spanish Secret - Laura Iding - Страница 8

“DOWN, Mama. Down!”

“Soon, Tommy. I promise.” Katerina Richardson fought a wave of exhaustion and tightened her grip on her wriggly son. She couldn’t imagine anything more torturous than being stuck in a plane for sixteen hours with an active soon-to-be four-year-old. She didn’t even want to think of the longer flight time on the return trip.

Plenty of time to worry about that, later. For now they’d finally arrived in Seville, Spain. And she desperately needed to get to the hospital to see how her half sister was doing after being hit by a car. The information from Susan Horton, the coordinator for the study abroad program, had been sketchy at best.

“I can’t believe the stupid airline lost my luggage,” her best friend, Diana Baylor, moaned as they made their way out of the airport to the line of people waiting for taxis. “It’s so hot here in April compared to Cambridge, Massachusetts. I’m already sweating—I can’t imagine staying in these same clothes for very long.”

Kat felt bad for her friend, who’d only come on this trip in the first place as a favor to her, but what could she do? Diana’s lost luggage was the least of her concerns. “Don’t worry, I’ll share my stuff or we’ll buy what you need.”

“Down, Mama. Down!” Tommy’s tone, accompanied by his wiggling, became more insistent.

“Okay, but you have to hold my hand,” Kat warned her son, as she put him on his feet. She’d let him run around in the baggage claim area while they’d waited for their luggage, but even that hadn’t put a dent in his energy level. She was grateful he’d slept on the plane, even though she hadn’t. Kat grabbed hold of his hand before he could make a beeline for the road. “Stay next to me, Tommy.”

He tugged on her hand, trying to go in the opposite direction from where they needed to wait for a taxi. Thank heavens the line was moving fast. Her son was as dark as she was blonde and if she had a nickel for every person who’d asked her if he was adopted, she’d be rich. Even here, she could feel curious eyes on them.

“No, Tommy. This way. Look, a car! We’re going to go for a ride!”

His attention diverted, Tommy readily climbed into the cab after Diana. They all squished into the back seat for the short ride to their hotel. “Hesperia Hotel, please,” she told the taxi driver.

“Hesperia? No comprendo Hesperia.” Their cab driver shook his head as he pulled out into traffic, waving his hand rather impatiently. “No comprendo.”

Kat refused to panic and quickly rummaged through her carry-on bag to pull out the hotel confirmation document. She handed it to him so he could read the name of the hotel for himself. He looked at the paper and made a sound of disgust. “Es-peer-ria,” he said, emphasizing the Spanish pronunciation. “Esperia Hotel.”

Properly chastised, she belatedly remembered from her two years of high-school Spanish that the H was silent. Being in Spain brought back bittersweet memories of Tommy’s father, especially during their three-hour layover in Madrid. She’d briefly toyed with the thought of trying to find Miguel, but had then realized her idea was ludicrous. Madrid was a huge city and she had no idea where to even start, if he’d even be there, which she seriously doubted. He may have studied there but it was possible he’d moved on. “Sí. Hesperia Hotel, gracias.”

The taxi driver mumbled something unintelligible and probably uncomplimentary in Spanish, under his breath. Kat ignored him.

“Are you going to the hospital today?” Diana asked with a wide yawn. “I’m voting for a nap first.”

“I doubt Tommy will sleep any time soon,” she reminded her friend. “And, yes, I’m going to head to the hospital as soon as we get the hotel room secured. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to watch Tommy for a while.”

“I know,” Diana said quickly. “I don’t mind.” Kat knew Diana wouldn’t renege on her duties, seeing as Kat had been the one to pay for her friend’s airfare, along with footing the hotel bill. Kat hadn’t minded as she’d needed someone to help watch over her son. “Wow, Kat, take a look at the architecture of that building over there. Isn’t it amazing?”

“Yeah, amazing.” Kat forced a smile, because Diana was right—the view was spectacular. Yet the thrill of being in Europe for the first time in her life couldn’t make her forget the reason they were there. The knot in her stomach tightened as she wondered what she’d discover when she went to the hospital. Susan Horton, the director of the study abroad program at Seville University, had called just thirty-six hours ago, to let her know that her younger half sister, Juliet, had a serious head injury and was too sick to be flown back to the U.S. for care.

Kat had immediately made arrangements to fly over to Seville in order to be there for her sister.

She and Juliet hadn’t been particularly close. And not just because of the seven-year age gap. They had different fathers and for some reason Juliet had always seemed to resent Kat. Their respective fathers had both abandoned their mother, which should have given them something in common. After their mother had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, Kat had promised her mother she’d look after Juliet.

Juliet had gone a little wild after their mother’s death, but had settled down somewhat after she’d finished her second year of college. At the ripe old age of twenty-one, Juliet had insisted on studying abroad for the spring semester of her junior year. Kat had been forced to pick up a lot of call weekends in order to pay for the program, but she’d managed. To be fair, Juliet had come up with a good portion of the money herself.

Kat felt guilty now about how she’d been secretly relieved to put her younger sister on a plane to Spain. But even if she’d tried to talk Juliet out of going, it wouldn’t have worked. Juliet would only have resented her even more.

How had the accident happened? All she’d been told was that Juliet had run out into the street and had been hit by a car, but she didn’t know anything further.

Getting to the hotel didn’t take long, although there was another hassle as she figured out the dollar to Euro exchange in order to pay the cranky cab driver. As soon as Diana and Tommy were settled in the hotel room, Kat asked the front-desk clerk for directions to the hospital. She managed to figure out how to get there on the metro, which wasn’t very different than using the subway back home.

Seville’s teaching hospital was larger than she’d expected and that gave her hope that Juliet was getting good medical and nursing care. Kat found her sister in their I.C.U and walked in, only to stop abruptly when she saw Juliet was connected to a ventilator. Her stomach clenched even harder when she noted several dark bruises and small lacerations marring her sister’s pale skin.

“Dear heaven,” she breathed, trailing her gaze from her sister up to the heart monitor. She’d done a yearlong stint in the I.C.U before going to the O.R. so she’d known what to expect, but had hoped that Juliet might have improved during the time it had taken her to make the travel arrangements and actually arrive in Seville.

A nurse, dressed head to toe in white, complete with nurse’s cap on her dark hair, came into the room behind her. Kat blinked back tears and turned to the nurse. “How is she? Has her condition improved? What is the extent of her injury? Can I speak to the doctor?”

The nurse stared at her blankly for a moment and then began talking in rapid Spanish, none of which Kat could understand.

Kat wanted to cry. She desperately paged through the English/Spanish dictionary she held, trying to look up words in Spanish to explain what she wanted to know. “¿Donde esta el doctor? ¿Habla Ingles?” she finally asked. Where is the doctor? Speak English?

The nurse spun around and left the room.

Kat sank into a chair next to Juliet’s bed, gently clasping her half sister’s hand in hers. Maybe the age difference, and completely opposite personalities, had kept them from being close, but Juliet was still her sister. With their mother gone, they only had each other.

She had to believe Juliet would pull through this. Her sister was young and strong, surely she’d be fine.

Kat put her head down on the edge of Juliet’s bed, closing her eyes just for a moment, trying to combat the deep fatigue of jet lag and her fear regarding the seriousness of her sister’s injuries.

She didn’t think she’d fallen asleep, but couldn’t be sure how much time had passed when she heard a deep male voice, thankfully speaking in English. She lifted her head and prised her heavy eyelids open.

“I understand you have questions regarding the condition of Juliet Campbell?”

“Yes, thank you.” She quickly rose to her feet and blinked the grit from her eyes as she turned to face the doctor.

His familiar facial features made the room gyrate wildly, and she had to grasp the edge of her sister’s side rail for support. “Miguel?” she whispered in shock, wondering if she was dreaming. Had thoughts of Tommy’s father conjured up a mirage? Or was it just the doctor’s Hispanic features, dark hair falling rakishly over his forehead, deep brown eyes gazing into hers, that were so achingly familiar?

“Katerina.” His eyes widened in surprise, and she couldn’t help feeling relieved to know she wasn’t the only one knocked off balance at this chance meeting. For several long seconds they simply stared at each other across the room. Slowly, he smiled, relieving part of the awkwardness. “What a pleasant surprise to see you again. How are you?”

She tightened her grip on the bed rail behind her because her knees threatened to give away. “I’m fine, thanks.” She struggled to keep her tone friendly, even though for one beautiful night they’d been far more than just friends. Yet despite her fanciful thoughts during the Madrid layover, she hadn’t really expected to see Miguel again.

He looked good. Better than good. Miguel was taller than most Latino men, with broad shoulders and a golden skin tone that showcased his bright smile. His dark eyes were mesmerizing. If not for his full name, Dr. Miguel Vasquez, embroidered on his white lab coat—she’d for sure think this was a dream.

She knew Juliet’s condition needed to be her primary concern, but she had so many other questions she wanted to ask him. “I’m surprised to find you here in Seville. I thought you lived in Madrid?”

He didn’t answer right away, and she thought she saw a flash of guilt shadow his dark eyes. She glanced away, embarrassed. She didn’t want him feeling guilty for the night they’d shared together. Or for leaving so abruptly when notified of his father’s illness. It wasn’t as if they’d been dating or anything.

Neither was it his fault she’d let her feelings spin out of control that night.

When she’d discovered she was pregnant, she’d called his cell phone, the only number she’d had, but the number had already been out of service. She’d assumed he hadn’t kept his old American phone once he’d returned to Spain. She’d looked for him on several social media sites, but hadn’t found him. After about six months she’d stopped trying.

“I live here,” he said simply. “My family’s olive farm is just twenty minutes outside Seville.”

“I see,” she said, although she really didn’t. Obviously, she hadn’t known much about Miguel’s family. She could hardly picture him growing up on an olive farm. She’d simply assumed because he was a Madrid exchange student that he’d lived there. She forced a smile, wishing they could recapture the easy camaraderie they’d once shared. “How’s your father?”

“He passed away three and a half years ago.” The shadows in Miguel’s eyes betrayed his grief.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured helplessly. She’d known that Miguel had needed to return to Spain when his father had been sick, but she was a little surprised that he’d stayed here, even after his father had passed away.

During the night they’d shared together he’d confided about how he dreamed of joining Doctors Without Borders. When she hadn’t been able to get in touch with Miguel once she’d discovered she was pregnant, she’d imagined him working in some distant country.

Why hadn’t he followed his dream? He’d told her about how he was only waiting to be finished with his family obligations. And his father had passed away three and a half years ago. He should have been long gone by now.

Not that Miguel’s choices were any of her business.

Except, now that he was here, how was she going to tell him about their son?

Panic soared, squeezing the air from her lungs. She struggled to take a deep breath, trying to calm her jagged nerves. Right now she needed to focus on her sister. She pulled herself together with an effort. “Will you please tell me about Juliet’s head injury? How bad is it? What exactly is her neuro status?”

“Your sister’s condition is serious, but stable. She responds to pain now, which she wasn’t doing at first. She does have a subarachnoid hemorrhage that we are monitoring very closely.”

A subarachnoid hemorrhage wasn’t good news, but she’d been prepared for that. “Is she following commands?” Kat asked.

“Not yet, but she’s young, Katerina. She has a good chance of getting through this.”

She gave a tight nod, wanting to believe him. “I know. I’m hopeful that she’ll wake up soon.”

“Katerina, I have to get to surgery as I have a patient waiting, but I would like to see you again. Would you please join me for dinner tonight? Say around eight-thirty or nine?”

She blinked in surprise and tried to think of a graceful way out of the invitation. She knew he was asking her out from some sense of obligation, because they’d spent one intense night together.

But she needed time to get the fog of fatigue out of her mind. Time to think about if and when to share the news about Tommy. Obviously Miguel deserved to know the truth, but what about Tommy? Did he deserve a father who didn’t want him? A father who’d made it clear he wasn’t looking for a family?

She didn’t know what to do.

“I’m sorry, but I’m sure I’ll be asleep by then,” she murmured, averting her gaze to look at her sister. “I just flew in today and I’m a bit jet-lagged.”

She steeled herself against the flash of disappointment in his eyes. Juliet’s well-being came first. And Tommy’s was a close second.

As far as she was concerned, Miguel Vasquez would just have to wait.

Miguel couldn’t believe Katerina Richardson was actually here, in Seville.

He allowed his gaze to roam over her, branding her image on his mind. She wasn’t beautiful in the classical sense, but he’d always found her attractive with her peaches and cream complexion and long golden blonde hair that she normally wore in a ponytail. Except for that one night, when he’d run his fingers through the silk tresses.

To this day he couldn’t explain why he’d broken his cardinal rule by asking her out. Granted, he’d been devastated over losing their patient, but he’d been determined to avoid emotional entanglements, knowing he was leaving when the year was up. He knew better than to let down his guard, but he’d been very attracted to Katerina and had suspected the feeling was mutual. That night he’d given up his fight to stay away.

But then the news about his father’s stroke had pulled him from Katerina’s bed the next morning. He’d rushed home to Seville. His father’s condition had been worse than he’d imagined, and his father had ultimately died twelve painful months later. His mother was already gone, and during his father’s illness his younger brother, Luis, had started drinking. Miguel had been forced to put his own dreams on hold to take over the olive farm, which had been in the Vasquez family for generations, until he could get Luis sobered up.

His visceral reaction to seeing Katerina again stunned him. He hadn’t allowed himself to miss her. Besides, he only had three months left on his contract here at the hospital and he’d be finally free to join Doctors Without Borders.

And this time, nothing was going to stop him. Not his brother Luis. And certainly not Katerina.

He shook off his thoughts with an effort. Logically he knew he should accept her excuse, but he found himself pressing the issue. “Maybe a light meal after siesta, then? Certainly you have to eat some time.”

There was a wariness reflected in her green eyes that hadn’t been there in the past. He wondered what had changed in the four and a half years they’d been apart. He was relieved to note she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring even though her personal life wasn’t any of his business. He couldn’t allow himself to succumb to Katerina’s spell—he refused to make the same mistakes his father had.

“You’ve described my sister’s head injury, but is there anything else? Other injuries I need to be aware of?” she asked, changing the subject.

He dragged his attention to his patient. “Juliet was hit on the right side. Her right leg is broken in two places and we had to operate to get the bones aligned properly. She has several rib fractures and some internal bleeding that appears to be resolving. Her head injury is the greatest of our concerns. Up until late yesterday she wasn’t responding at all, even to pain. The fact that there is some response now gives us hope she may recover.”

Katerina’s pale skin blanched even more, and his gut clenched when he noted the tears shimmering in her bright green eyes. They reminded him, too much, about the night they’d shared. An intense, intimate, magical night that had ended abruptly with his brother’s phone call about their father. She’d cried for him when he’d been unable to cry for himself.

“When can she be transported back to the United States?” she asked.

The instinctive protest at the thought of her leaving surprised him. What was wrong with him? He wrestled his emotions under control. “Not until I’m convinced her neurological status has truly stabilized,” he reluctantly admitted.

Katerina nodded, as if she’d expected that response. “Are you my sister’s doctor? Or just one of the doctors here who happen to speak English?” she asked. Her gaze avoided his, staying at the level of his chest.

“Yes, I’m your sister’s doctor. As you know, I’m a surgeon who does both general and trauma surgery cases.”

“Do any of the nurses speak English?”

Seville didn’t have the same tourist draw as Madrid or Barcelona, which meant not as many of the locals spoke English. Miguel had originally learned English from his American mother, who’d taught him before she’d died. He’d learned even more English during his time at the University of Madrid. In fact, he’d earned the opportunity to live and study medicine in the U.S. at Harvard University.

There he’d ultimately become a doctor. And met Katerina. He dragged his thoughts out of the past. “No, the nurses don’t speak much English, I’m afraid.”

She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, as if she had a pounding headache. Once again he found himself on the verge of offering comfort. But he didn’t dare, no matter how much he wanted to.

“I would appreciate periodic updates on my sister’s condition whenever you have time to spare from the rest of your patients,” she said finally.

The way she turned her back on him, as if to dismiss him, made him scowl. He wanted to demand she look at him, talk to him, but of course there wasn’t time. Glancing at his watch only confirmed he was already late for his scheduled surgery. “I’d be happy to give you an update later today, if you have time at, say, four o’clock?” He purposefully gave her the same time he normally ate a late lunch, right after siesta.

She spun around to face him. “But—” She stopped herself and then abruptly nodded. “Of course. Four o’clock would be fine.”

He understood she’d only agreed to see him so that she could get updates on her sister, but that didn’t stop him from being glad he’d gotten his way on this. “I look forward to seeing you later, then, Katerina,” he said softly.

He could barely hide the thrill of anticipation racing through him, knowing he’d see her again soon, as he hurried down to the operating room.