Читать книгу A Doctor's Vow - Lois Richer - Страница 9

Chapter One

Fire!

Pediatrician Jaclyn LaForge quickly ushered her patients out of her brand-new clinic to safety. Her relief was short-lived when the clinic’s nurse grabbed her arm.

“Randy McNabb and his mom haven’t come out,” RaeAnn whispered. “I think they’re still inside.”

The volunteer fire department of Hope, New Mexico, wasn’t here yet and Jaclyn wasn’t going to wait for them. She kicked off her high heels.

“Wait,” RaeAnn begged.

“No child left unattended, RaeAnn. That’s our motto.” Jaclyn raced inside the building, praying Randy and his mom were safe. Surely God would answer this prayer.

Inside the clinic, she moved from room to room. When choking black smoke enveloped her, she dropped to a crouch, calling Randy’s name as she squeezed her burning eyes closed. Reopening them, she saw nothing. Her hand clutched air. Her lungs gagged on thick heavy smoke. She ripped off her jacket and held it over her face, trying to stem her terror.

Jaclyn reached for a shadow and knocked something over. She knew she couldn’t stay in the clinic, but when she rose to move ahead, shards of broken glass pierced her foot. She collapsed in pain.

Don’t let me die, God. Not before I’ve kept my promise to Jessica.

A gloved hand curled around her arm. Another nudged her jacket away from her mouth to plant a mask over her face.

She lifted it. “Randy—”

“Keep it there,” a gruff voice ordered. “And hang on to me.”

Jaclyn obediently inhaled the pure, clear air in gasps. Her rescuer heaved her over a very broad shoulder and carried her through the building. For the first time in years Jaclyn relinquished all control and allowed someone else to be in charge of her life.

As they emerged into the sunny spring warmth, Jaclyn pushed away the mask and inhaled, forcing her burning lungs to clear as she shot a prayer of thanks heavenward. Her rescuer gently set her on the ground. She lay still, overwhelmed by what had almost happened.

“Are you nuts? You don’t go into a burning building. Not ever.” The fireman in front of her ripped off his headgear and glared at her, his lips tight in an angry frown. But his fingers took her pulse with gentleness. He carefully eased her sooty jacket from her hands and tossed it away before checking her for burns. “Can you breathe okay? Do you need more oxygen?”

He tried to replace the mask but she pushed it away.

“I’m fine.” Well, that would be true if her stomach hadn’t just flipped in reaction to his touch. Jaclyn peered into cobalt-blue eyes and wondered who he was.

“Why would you go into a fire?” he demanded.

“A little boy—Randy—” She blinked at the familiar bellow that came from her left. “That’s him. Where was he?”

“He and his mom used the old fire escape on the side of the building. They’re fine.”

“Good.” She kept her gaze on the fireman, fighting not to look at her clinic. “I’m fine, too.” She accepted his outstretched hand to help her stand, winced and quickly sat down again. “Except for my foot. I stepped on some glass.”

The fireman called for a first aid pack, shredded what was left of her stockings and examined the soles of her feet with a tender touch.

“I took off my shoes, you see,” she said, as if that would explain everything.

“If those are your shoes, I’m not surprised you got rid of them.” He shot a scathing glance at her spiked heels lying not ten feet away. “I don’t know how you can even walk in those things.” He glanced up, his blue eyes darkening to navy. “This is going to hurt.”

“It already does. Go ahead.” Jaclyn leaned back on her elbows and watched him delicately remove bits of glass from her foot. She tried to ignore her pulse-thudding reaction to him by trying to remember where she’d seen eyes so richly blue before.

Her rescuer’s forehead pleated in deeply tanned furrows. So he was an outdoors guy, good-looking with the kind of massive shoulders that not even the bulk of a fireman’s jacket disguised. He’d shed his headgear to reveal a face that appeared chiseled from stone.

His jaw clenched and unclenched as he worked, a tiny tic in his throat betraying his concentration. His hair—dark, almost black—lay in a ruffle of tight curls against his scalp—

“Kent?” Jaclyn whispered in disbelief. “Kent McCloy?”

“Yeah?” He lifted his head, blinked at her.

“I didn’t recognize you. It’s me. Jaclyn. Jaclyn LaForge.” She waited. But Kent only nodded once and went back to work on her foot. “Thanks for getting me out of there.”

“No problem. It’s what firemen do.” His drawl, like his face, gave nothing away.

Oh, no, her soul groaned. Kent was just like the rest of Hope’s biased locals who couldn’t believe the former bad girl of Hope could be a real doctor. Jaclyn was sick of that attitude. As if a mistake from her past made her completely unqualified to actually treat patients.

Kent squeezed the arch of her foot in preparation to draw out yet more shards. The last one was large enough to make her yelp in pain.

“Sorry.” His fingers belied his gruff tone as he gently held her foot and poured antiseptic over the wounds. He began to wrap her foot in gauze—his bandaging skills were as good as or better than hers. “Okay?”

“It’s fine.” Actually his touch was more than fine, which was utterly confusing because Jaclyn had never reacted like this to anyone ever.

“I think I got it all but you should have somebody at the hospital check.” He set her foot down and tied off the gauze. “No stitches needed, though I suspect it will be painful for a while. And wearing those shoes? No way.”

Who cared about shoes? Jaclyn caught a glimpse of her dream—Jessica’s Clinic—and groaned.

“It’s ruined,” she whispered, swallowing tears that would make her look weak. “It’s totally ruined.”

“Yeah, fires tend to do that.” Kent offered a hand to help her rise. When she was upright, he slid his arm around her waist, as if he understood that only force of will and his help kept her standing. If he hadn’t been there she’d have burst out bawling.

“But how could a fire start?” She looked from him back to the blackened, smoking building. “I had the place checked out. I had everything very carefully checked out.”

“Then somebody missed something. Or it’s an accident.” He shrugged. “Sorry, but the place is toast. In my opinion it isn’t salvageable.” Despite his harsh assessment, his blue eyes glowed with sympathy.

Jaclyn didn’t want sympathy. Forget Kent McCloy with his midnight eyes, big broad shoulders and the gentlest touch she’d ever felt. Her dream was going up in smoke.

“I just opened.” Despite her best efforts, a tear slipped out and trickled down her cheek. “I worked so hard to make this dream come true.”

“Then you’ll start over.” Kent turned her to face him, his voice softer. “It’s just a building. Compared to your life, losing a building doesn’t matter. Besides—” he waved a hand “—Hope is full of empty buildings. I should know. I own that one over there.”

She nodded, recognizing it. “Your dad’s old law office.”

“Uh-huh.” He shook his head. A faint smile tugged at his mouth for a millisecond before it disappeared. “You can start over, Jaclyn. Take your choice of where.” He waved a hand, as if it were simple to start again.

She blinked, surveyed the street then twisted to look at Kent again. If he wanted her to reopen he couldn’t be holding her past against her. Maybe he’d even help her.

“Many of these places look worse than the one I was in.”

“Probably are. Unoccupied buildings deteriorate fast.” He turned away as one of the other firemen came over to speak to him. “She’s okay. She should be checked out at the hospital for smoke inhalation. I removed the glass in her foot.”

“Fire department volunteers aren’t supposed to render that much first aid,” the other fireman reminded, eyes dancing. “At least that’s what you said at our last meeting, Chief. I can see why you did it, though.” He gave Jaclyn a smile that should have made her heart throb.

Jaclyn wanted to tell him to save it for someone who would appreciate it, that she was devoted to her work—except for when Kent McCloy made her pulse race by taking glass out of her foot.

“Generally we don’t. Do first aid, I mean.” Kent’s tanned face turned a shade of burgundy.

“Just couldn’t help yourself this time, huh?” the fireman teased.

“The fire, Pete?” Kent reminded, dark brows lowered.

“Under control. But I’ll take the hint and get back to work.” The other man left smirking.

“What did he mean you couldn’t help yourself? Are you a doctor, Kent?” Jaclyn frowned. “But I met the local doctors. At least, I thought I had.”

“Vet,” Kent corrected with a mocking smile. “I can’t stand to see things hurting, though I usually treat a different species.”

“Oh.” She glanced at her foot. “Well, maybe you should broaden your practice. I’ll be a reference if you like.”

“You want me as competition in town?” His chuckle made her stomach quiver again.

“I’m not sure it would matter much,” Jaclyn mumbled. “I could hardly have fewer patients.” She gulped, regrouped. “It’s good to see you again, Kent. It’s been a long time since we were in high school together. We’ll have to catch up sometime.” She’d been so focused on the clinic she’d met hardly anyone—it would be nice to have a social life.

His beautiful smile disappeared, his face tightening into an unreadable mask.

“Sure.” He looked around as if he wanted to avoid further conversation. “The ambulance is here. You’d better go with them, get your foot checked.” His arm left her waist.

“I’m fine.” Jaclyn studied him as she balanced on her uninjured foot, feeling suddenly bereft. “Have you lived in Hope since high school?”

“No.” Kent’s response didn’t invite further questions. He turned his head, nodding when one of the other firefighters motioned for him to join them. “I have to go.”

“Well, thanks for saving my life.” She waited until he’d taken a few steps away. “Kent?”

“Yes?” He turned back, his impatience to get back to work clearly visible.

“Was anyone else hurt?” She held her breath as she waited for his answer.

“Just you.” He studied her for a moment longer, then grabbed the gear he’d thrown down and strode away looking larger than life.

Not that he needs any help there, she thought noting the badge at the top of his sleeve. “Fire Chief Kent McCloy is already the stuff of heroes. But that doesn’t matter to me,” she said aloud, as if convincing herself. “I have no time for relationships. I’m not back in Hope for a high school reunion.”

So what was with her reaction to him?

“Jaclyn, you’re talking to yourself.” RaeAnn frowned. “How much smoke did you breathe in?”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you aren’t. Your foot is injured. For once, stop trying to be in control.” RaeAnn slid an arm around her waist for support. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

Maybe they could get her head examined while she was there, Jaclyn mused. She checked over her shoulder one last time and saw Kent motion for another fireman to direct his hose on the back of the now-smoking building that had housed Jaclyn’s clinic. That clinic had been the focus of her dreams for more than ten years. It was the place where she was finally going to earn the life she’d been given. The life Jessica had lost.

Why? That was the question that always haunted her. Why had her twin sister gotten leukemia and not her? In all the years since Jessica’s death, she’d never figured that out.

“Ready?”

Jaclyn shook off her stupor and concentrated on getting into RaeAnn’s car while her assistant retrieved her shoes. It must have been smoke addling her brain that made her notice Kent’s broad shoulders again because Dr. Jaclyn LaForge was not interested in men—especially not Kent McCloy, no matter how good he looked in his gear.

Guys like Kent, even though they’re gorgeous, have no effect on me, she thought as she sat alone in a treatment room, waiting to be examined by a colleague. But all the denials in the world couldn’t disguise the way her heartbeat had raced when Kent had touched her.

How was it that the only guy she’d ever had a crush on in high school—the guy who’d stuck by her when everyone else had turned against her after Jessica’s death—still had the power to make her shiver?

Didn’t matter. Overpowering reactions notwithstanding, Jaclyn had no time for personal relationships. She had a duty to her twin sister to get the clinic up and running again. Despite losing the building, she would find a way to do it—no matter what.

* * *

Kent left the fire hall late in the afternoon after learning the fire was the result of an overtaxed electrical outlet. Thankfully no one had been seriously hurt. But the incident reinforced his long-held belief that it was time to get an emergency procedure plan in place in town.

He took his time driving home, surveying the land in its burgeoning spring glory. The last rays of sun sank below the craggy tips of New Mexico’s mountains, bathing the world in a rosy glow as he drove into his driveway. It should have made him feel peaceful. But the usual post-fire adrenaline surge had left Kent antsy. He walked around the yard and thought about the town’s new pediatrician.

Kent had forgotten a lot of things about Jaclyn LaForge since their days in high school—that silver blond hair of hers, for one thing. Then she’d worn it long; now her short, precise blunt-cut caressed a chin that said she was all business. The silky strands cupped her face, drawing attention to her delicate cheekbones and big brown eyes framed by long lush lashes. How could he have forgotten those lashes?

The pediatrician oozed class, from her red silk suit to her spicy perfume. Jaclyn, the rebel teen whom he’d known so well had been totally erased.

In an instant he time-traveled back five years.

“Kent, slow down. I can’t keep up with you wearing these heels.”

His wife would have envied Jaclyn her fancy shoes—they were the kind Lisa loved but said she could never wear in Hope.

“This is Hokey Ville, Kent.” Three years later and Lisa’s accusing voice would not be silenced. “You said we wouldn’t stay. You promised we’d go back to Dallas.”

A promise he’d made but never kept.

Uncomfortable with the memory of his betrayal, Kent clenched his jaw. Rescuing Jaclyn from that burning building had knocked his world off kilter. He doubted he’d ever forget seeing her through the smoke, but he needed to restore his carefully managed equilibrium because blocking out the past and focusing on the present was how he got through each day.

Oreo, his old Springer spaniel, strolled up to him and rubbed against his knee. Her white-and-gold patches gleamed from the brushing he’d given her this morning. As usual, the dog seemed to sense his mood. She nuzzled under his hand until it rested on her head, then laid her head on his knee.

“Did you get the pups straightened out, girl?” he asked. Oreo’s daughter had given birth to ten pups the week before. Grandmother Oreo seemed to think it was her duty to ensure each one of the offspring received equal attention from their mother.

The dog’s responsive yowl made Kent laugh. Her throated growls sounded as if she was asking him about his day. Since Lisa’s death he’d gotten into the habit of talking to the dog. Oreo had become his companion so he told her what was on his mind.

“Hope needs a kids’ doctor. Jaclyn’s clinic is unusable, but Dad’s old building might make a good replacement.” The dog shifted and he nodded. “I know. It’s probably a wreck.”

Kent didn’t want to admit how much seeing Jaclyn had affected him. He was grateful when a car’s lights flashed as it climbed the hill to his ranch house. Company would be good.

He gulped when Jaclyn climbed out of a sky-blue convertible and walked toward him—limped, actually. She had on a pair of jeans, a perfectly pressed candy-pink shirt and a pair of white sneakers that looked brand-new. Typical city girl.

“Hello.” Her smile displayed perfect white teeth. Everything about her was perfect.

“Hi.” He motioned to a chair. “How’s the foot?” he asked when she’d sat.

“Sore.” She tucked some of the glossy silver-blond strands behind one ear before she bent to pet his dog. “But fine.”

“Good.” Suddenly he could think of nothing to say.

“I wanted to thank you again for saving me this afternoon, Kent. I would have died without your help.” Her big brown eyes stared earnestly into his.

“Don’t thank me.” He heard the gruffness in his voice and wished he could sound less affected by her presence. He didn’t want her to guess how much seeing her again had affected him. “One of the other guys would have found you.”

“But you were the one who did and you treated my foot. So thank you.” She paused a moment.

“Sure. Anything else?” It was rude and ungracious but suddenly Kent didn’t want to talk to Jaclyn. She upset his carefully regulated world.

“Yes, there is. You mentioned your dad’s office building.”

“Yeah.” He kept it noncommittal.

“I noticed it’s unoccupied. Is renting it an option?” Her voice became businesslike.

“I don’t know. I haven’t been through the place in ages.” Why had he ever opened his big mouth? He wanted to avoid her, not build a relationship. When hope flickered in her eyes he blurted out the first excuse he could think of. “There could be some issues with the place.”

“Can you check?” Jaclyn rubbed the sweet spot behind Oreo’s ears and smiled at the dog’s growled appreciation. She refocused on Kent. “It’s really important to me to get the clinic going again.” Her eyes held his. “Please?”

“I’ve got the ranch and my practice,” he reminded. “I’m pretty busy.”

“I’m sure you are.” She kept staring, waiting.

“Fine,” he relented when it became obvious she wouldn’t back off. “I’ll look as soon as I can.” In the meantime maybe she’d find something else and he could forget her and go on with his normal life.

In his dreams. He remembered Jaclyn’s tenacity too well.

“If you’d let me know when you go, I’d like to come along.” Her smile blazed. “The clinic has to be fully operational, treating a certain number of patients, in three months or I jeopardize my financing. This is March. That means I’d have to move in by the end of May.”

“I said I’ll get to it when I can and I will.” He swallowed his harsh tone and focused on his manners. She was his guest and he hadn’t offered her anything. His mother would be appalled. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Iced tea? If it’s not too much trouble.”

Kent went inside and reached for the fridge door. To his shock, Jaclyn followed him and was now looking around the kitchen. He wished he hadn’t offered her a drink. Or anything else. He didn’t want her here, seeing the starkness of his kitchen and realizing that it mirrored his life. He didn’t want her leaving behind the scent of her fancy perfume. Mostly he didn’t want her seeing how pathetic he was.

He held out a brimming glass.

“Thanks. Do you have any lemon?” She accompanied the request with the sweetest smile.

Kent hacked off a wedge of lemon and held it out.

“Oh.” She took it daintily between her fingertips—perfectly manicured fingertips with pale pink polish. “Um, thank you.” She moved to stand in front of the sink, pinched the lemon into her glass and stirred it with a finger. “Lovely.” She held the piece of lemon between two fingers, searching for a place to discard it.

Kent handed her a sheet of paper towel.

“Thanks.” She wrapped the towel around the lemon wedge and set it on the counter before she took another sip. “It feels cool out tonight.”

Meaning he could hardly lead her outside to the patio again. He motioned to one of the kitchen chairs. Jaclyn sank onto it with graceful elegance. Kent couldn’t help noticing her expensive jeans, her tailored blouse, and her three pieces of jewelry—two small gold hoops in her ears and a thin gold chair around her neck—that made her look like a princess slumming it.

“Are you still holding that night at the church against me, Kent?”

“What?” He jerked to awareness, embarrassed that he’d been caught staring at her. “Of course not. Why would you say that?”

“You act as if you’re mad at me.” Her smile grew wistful. “I never came back to Hope for any of the reunions and I haven’t seen you since the night of high school graduation, so I’m guessing your attitude has to be about the night I wrecked the church. I’ll apologize again if it means you’ll forgive me for letting you take the blame for that night, even for a little while.”

Forgive her? He was the one who needed forgiveness. But what he’d done was unforgiveable.

“Am I forgiven?” Her smile faltered.

“Nothing to forgive,” Kent told her, his voice hoarse. “You were hurting. Your sister had just died. You were angry that God hadn’t healed her the way you expected and you lashed out. I understood.”

“You always did.” Jaclyn’s voice softened to a whisper. “Of all the people in Hope, you were the only one who did. But I shouldn’t have let you take the fall, even for the few days it took to get my act together. I’m sorry.”

“I’m glad I could help.” High-school Jaclyn had drawn his sympathy, but this woman disarmed him. His throat was dry. He took a sip of his tea but it didn’t seem to help. Nor did it stop the rush of awareness that she was the first woman to come into Lisa’s kitchen since—

“You helped me more than you ever knew. I won’t forget that.” After an introspective silence her expression changed, her voice lightened. “I don’t suppose we could go into town and look at your dad’s building tonight? Don’t answer. I can see ‘no’ written all over your face. How about tomorrow morning? Say, seven-thirty?”

“Do you ever give up?” he asked in exasperation.

Jaclyn stilled. “Not when it comes to my dreams.”

“This clinic is your dream?” Kent knew it was from the expression on her face. He also knew he wanted to help her achieve it. “I’ll ask a friend of mine to check out my dad’s old office as soon as he can. But be warned it will probably need a painting, at the very least. The company that opened the new silver mine on the other side of Hope was in there last and they weren’t gentle.”

“Your dad’s retired now, I suppose? He and your mom were such a loving couple. I remember she once told my mom the ranch was your dad’s weekend toy but he intended to make it a full-time job after retirement.” She tilted her head to one side, studying the fancy kitchen. “Your mom must love this. Everything here looks brand-new.”

“It is. My wife had it redone several years ago. My parents died in a car accident, Jaclyn. That’s why I came back to Hope.” Kent clamped his lips together.

“Oh, no!” She shook her head sadly. “Losing your parents must have been hard.”

“Yes, it was.”

After a long silence, she asked, “Is your wife here? I’d like to meet her. There aren’t a lot of the kids from our class in Hope anymore. Since my parents sold our ranch right after I finished high school, I’ve kind of lost touch.”

Kent stiffened. But he had to tell her. She’d hear it from someone in town anyway. Better that he laid out the bare truth. Maybe when she knew, she’d stay away and let him get back to his solitary life.

“My wife was Lisa Steffens.”

“I remember Lisa—”

“She’s dead,” he blurted out.

“Oh, Kent. I’m so truly sorry.”

“She died in a fire. A fire I set.” Kent wished he could have avoided rehashing the past.

Jaclyn blinked. She studied him for several moments before she said, “You didn’t do it deliberately. I know you and you couldn’t have done that.”

“You don’t know me anymore, Jaclyn.”

“I don’t think you’ve become a murderer, Kent.” She held his gaze. “Do you mind telling me what happened?”

Jaclyn’s presence in his house made the place come alive as it hadn’t in a very long time. She brought color to the cold stainless steel, life to the gray tones that only reminded him of death and guilt. From somewhere deep inside a rush of yearning gripped Kent, a yearning to share his life with someone who would talk, listen and laugh with him. If only he could enjoy Jaclyn’s company and the hope that was so much a part of her aura—just for a little while.

“Not tonight.” He drew back, regrouped.

Once Kent had dreamed of happiness, a family, a future on this ranch. He’d failed Lisa and he’d never have that now. But he had to go on; he couldn’t get sidetracked by his crazy attraction to Jaclyn LaForge, no matter how strong. He admired her courage in returning to Hope, in sticking to her promise to her sister, but he desperately needed to resume his carefully structured world because that was the only way he could survive the guilt.

It wasn’t his job to get Jaclyn a new clinic. He didn’t want to get involved. He didn’t want concerns about whether her foot would heal properly or get infected. And he sure didn’t want his heart thudding every time he saw her.

Every instinct Kent possessed screamed Run!

“I’ll meet you at the building tomorrow morning at eight,” he heard himself say.