Second Chance With Her Army Doc. Dianne Drake
despite the fact he’d lost everything else. He liked being a doctor. No, he loved being a doctor. It was all he’d ever wanted from the time he’d been a kid.
When all his friends had been vacillating between fireman, policeman and whatever else all little boys wanted to be at some point in their lives, being a doctor had been it for him, because he had wanted to find a way to cure his brother James. Carter had promised James he would, when he was nine and James had been on his last days, dying from cystic fibrosis.
Two years younger than Carter, James had spent his whole life in and out of hospitals. He’d never been strong enough to walk more than a few steps, and he’d never breathed well enough to go outside and play—not even for a few minutes. For James, life had been all tests and procedures, and somewhere in Carter’s nine-year-old mind he’d thought if he made a promise to save his brother and make him well it would happen. And it would give his entire family some hope to cling to.
But a week after his promise his dad had been sitting on the front step crying when Carter had arrived home from school. And after that, unlike his friends, who had gone back and forth on what they wanted to be, he never had. He’d been angry at the world for taking his brother. Angry at himself that he hadn’t been able to do more. Angry at the doctors who’d always predicted a grave outcome for his brother.
He’d expected them to do better. Expected them to produce a miracle. Expected them to offer hope rather than rip it away. Which was why he’d become a doctor—a surgeon. Because he wanted to do the things that hadn’t been done for his brother. Of course, the closer Carter had come to his goal, the more he’d realized that some outcomes would break his heart no matter what he did. That was part of the profession. But that hadn’t discouraged him, because many more outcomes were good. And it was those outcomes he always dedicated to his brother—without fail.
But now—well, now he was a GP. And he was grateful for that. Maybe it was the only thing left in his life he had to be grateful for, since he’d destroyed everything else that mattered.
“It’s nice,” Carter said to the twenty-something girl who’d been following him from room to room: Marcie, his new receptionist.
Her father owned the building and had seized the opportunity to lower the rent if the medical practice employed her. Apparently, Marcie had never worked a day in her life and this was to be her first ever job. Matt had hired her since, legally, this was his practice.
“Daddy had it painted fresh,” she said, her nose in her phone, scrolling, scrolling... Short skirt, long vest, tall boots, pinkish yellow hair... Not the professional image he’d hoped for. But a discount was a discount, and he’d have to make the best of his workforce virgin.
He actually chuckled. If his life weren’t so pathetic this could be funny. It wasn’t, though. Nobody could screw up so many things the way he had and call it funny. But, like he’d told Matt, he was a good doctor. That was the only sure thing he had to hang on to—his medical skills. Maybe—somehow—he wouldn’t mess those up, too.
“So, how about we open up for business tomorrow morning?” he asked Marcie.
Her reply was a head nod as she continued to scroll.
Who was it that had said something about fastening up for a bumpy ride? Well, this was his bumpy ride, but he wasn’t sure he was fastened up enough for it.
Time would tell, he supposed.
SO THIS WAS FORGEBURN. Sloane looked up and down the main drag, not sure whether she liked it or not. For sure, it was remote. And small. So small, in fact, that she could see both ends of town from her vantage point at the gas station in the middle.
It did have some appeal, she decided, as her gaze came to rest on a good-looking foothill that seemed as if it needed an experienced climber on it. It was red clay, not too steep, but steep enough that she knew her climbing skills—the skills Carter had taught her—would get her to the top. Something she would definitely do, since she was booked here in Forgeburn for the entire two weeks of her vacation.
Hiking the desert, climbing the rocks, dropping down into some of the canyons—these were all things she’d never done Before Carter, as she called it now. But they were things she loved doing now, along with scuba diving, parasailing, mountain biking, and so many other outdoor recreational activities.
She missed all those—missed doing them with Carter. Missed the way he’d congratulate her when she achieved something she’d never done before. First the congratulatory hug, then the congratulatory kiss, then the congratulatory run to the bedroom for the best congratulatory practice of all.
Yes, she missed all that. Missed the emotion and the elation. Missed the physical contact, even if it was a hug of condolence when she didn’t achieve what she’d set out to do.
So... Forgeburn—she could see why Carter had talked about it so much. They’d planned on a visit—something longer than the two or three days off they usually got. And here she was, with all the time in the world. But alone.
She could have gone someplace else. Anyplace else. And maybe she should have. But here, with so much to remind her of what she no longer had, maybe she would start to remind herself that she no longer had Carter either.
Sighing, Sloane finished pumping gas into her car, then took one more look around before she headed down the road to Red Rock Canyon Resort—her home away from home for the next two weeks. Right now she felt—nothing. Carter had told her he’d felt that way much of the time and now she finally understood it herself. It was so empty. So lonely.
Good move coming here? Or bad move?
Either way, she was here, and there was plenty to do—or nothing, if that was what she chose. Her real choice, however, wouldn’t happen, because that involved sleeping out under the stars somewhere, listening to the coyotes howl. Curling up with Carter in a single sleeping bag. Making love under the stars. And this evening promised a sky full of beautiful stars.
“Could you tell me if there are any evening hikes in the desert?” she asked the concierge as she checked in to the Red Rock Canyon Resort.
“We have one leaving in about an hour. It’s five miles, and it leads into the desert to explore various constellations that are visible only because there’s no city lighting getting in the way. But you must have your own hiking gear, as our rental facility is closed.”
“Sounds perfect to me. If there’s space, sign me up.”
“We have other less strenuous options in the morning,” said the concierge, Diego Sanchez. “Perhaps you’d rather wait, señorita?”
“No. I’d rather go tonight. And strenuous is good. Just what I need.”
“Then I’ll pass your name along to our tour guide. He’ll contact you shortly about the equipment you need to bring. You do have equipment, don’t you?”
Everything that Carter had ever bought her. She’d thought about throwing it all away and starting over, but for now it was all she had, and she hoped she would be able to use it without too many memories hiking along with her.
Even so, as she went to her room to get ready, memories were already creeping in—like how his temper had flared for no reason. When he’d panicked at an unexpected loud noise. And then there had been the nightmares, the flashbacks and triggers. And finally, a slow-growing lack of trust in her.
Before he’d gone into the Army he’d trusted her implicitly. When he’d come home he’d seemed wary of her at first. Then eventually mistrusting. That had maybe been the worst of everything. Planning a life with someone who didn’t trust her. That was when she’d started to wonder if she should, or could, go through with their marriage. Or simply put it on hold for a while.
After all, she’d already invested six years—what