Mountain Ambush. Hope White
there who’d be open to such a life? It would be nice to share a home-cooked meal and conversation with someone, and he’d enjoy having a travel buddy, someone who liked to hike as much as he did. His guy friends were great, but they had other commitments—Nate with his job as police chief and new romance with Cassie McBride; and Aiden, who managed a resort and a relationship with his concierge, Nia Sharpe.
Deep down, Spence knew true love was an illusion. His parents had split only a few years after Bobby’s death, and his own fiancée’s betrayal had nearly destroyed him. Yet there were days when the thought of a solitary life spiked melancholy through his chest.
“Five bucks for your thoughts.”
He snapped his attention to Maddie. “What?”
“You were far, far away.” She frowned and raised three fingers. “How many fingers do I have up?”
“Knock it off. I’m fine.”
“So you keep saying.” She slid a long strand of copper-streaked auburn hair behind her ear. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not being totally honest with Dr. Carver?”
“You’re accusing me of what, exactly?”
“Wanting to get out of here sooner than later. I get it, I do. I was hospitalized for a migraine last year.” She shuddered. “The experience made me more compassionate with my patients, that’s for sure.”
More compassionate? She’d always seemed to have a gentle and consoling way with patients whenever she wheeled them into his ER.
“You need to be straight with Dr. Carver so she can help you. That’s what you always tell your patients, right?”
“Sure. Thanks for the advice,” Spence said, wanting to shut down this topic of discussion. “You really don’t need to hang around.”
A flash of hurt sparked in her green eyes. He hadn’t meant for that to happen. The concussion was obviously making him irritable. He opened his mouth to apologize, but she spoke first.
“My ride isn’t here and I’d rather not hang out in the lobby to be interrogated by fans wanting an update on Dr. Dreamboat.” She redirected her attention to her phone.
“Dr. Dreamboat?”
“You know they call you that,” she muttered.
“I didn’t—”
“Hi, Dr. Spencer.” Oscar Burke, a twentysomething orderly pushed a wheelchair into the room. “What are you doing here, Maddie?”
She didn’t look up from her phone. “Waiting.”
“For what?”
“The ski lift.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind. My work is done here.” Without making eye contact, she turned and left the room.
He sat up, wanting to call her back and say something, express his thanks again.
Apologize for his rude behavior.
“She’s a weird duck,” Oscar said.
“Why do you say that?”
“Bossy one minute, friendly the next.”
Which actually sounded like Spence tonight thanks to the head injury.
“You ready for your MRI?” Oscar said.
“Yes.” Spence got out of bed and shifted his feet onto the floor. When Oscar reached out for the assist, Spence motioned him off. “I’m fine.”
Maddie was right. He kept repeating the words, but even Spence knew it wasn’t true. He sat in the wheelchair and Oscar adjusted the footrests.
The MRI was one more thing to check off the list. The radiologist wouldn’t see anything alarming and Spence would be released in the morning.
As Oscar wheeled him to the elevator, Spence closed his eyes, giving hospital staff the message that he wasn’t in the mood to talk. Unfortunately, Oscar couldn’t see Spence’s face.
“That was some fight you got into on the trail, huh?” Oscar said.
“It was.”
“Good thing you shot at the guy and scared him off.”
Spence was about to correct him, to say that Maddie had fired the weapon, but didn’t want to encourage further conversation. They successfully avoided hospital staff as Oscar wheeled him into the elevator.
Spence sighed with relief. Relief? He was usually outgoing, not the type of person to avoid social interaction.
The elevator doors closed. “Head hurts, huh?” Oscar asked.
“Yes.” Spence nodded and rubbed his temples.
“I’m sorry.”
“Why? It’s not your fault,” Spence snapped. “Sorry.”
Again, that was not like him. He chalked it up to the hammering in his skull that wouldn’t quit. It would make anyone cranky. Perhaps he should ask for a pain reliever to help him sleep tonight.
Then again, sleep would only bring more nightmares, and besides, they were careful not to overmedicate patients suffering from head trauma.
Spence focused on relaxing for the MRI. Being in that enclosed space wasn’t the most pleasant experience with the banging, knocking and buzzing sounds filling the tube.
When they got to imaging, Oscar handed Spence off to an MRI tech named Kurt. As Kurt helped him onto the table, Spence could tell the medication was taking effect. He felt relaxed, and even a little light-headed.
“Music choice?” Kurt asked, handing Spence headphones.
Spence stretched out on the table. “Classical.”
“Okay. I can hear you so if you have any concerns while the procedure—”
“I won’t,” Spence said. He wanted this done, over. He wanted to go home to his remote cabin.
As Spence lay still, arms by his sides, the tech slid the table into the tube. A moment later, classical music drifted through the headphones. He’d try to find a peaceful place in his mind, a calm place. He’d always found peace in Echo Mountain National Park surrounded by majestic evergreens, pine and cedar trees—a blanket of green spanning the mountain range.
Green like Maddie’s eyes.
That’s why she’d been able to calm him down, because her eyes reminded him of the one place he could find comfort.
The hammering sounds of the MRI scan started to interfere with the calming effect of the music. His thoughts drifted to this afternoon’s rescue, finding Gwen and the brutal attack. Should he have performed the complicated procedure on her considering his brain trauma? Of course. Gwen was okay now, breathing on her own, Maddie said as much.
Maddie, his defender. She’d saved his life.
The medication caused him to drift deeper...deeper.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when silence filled the tube. Were they done? Had Spence slept through the forty-five minute procedure?
Heavy metal music blasted through the headphones, sparking a migraine that clawed its way through his skull.
“Ah!” He ripped off the headphones and fought the nausea rolling through his stomach.
The table slid out of the tube.
He was surrounded by darkness.
“Kurt?” he said, his voice weak.
Spence rolled off the table and stumbled across the room. The door, he needed to find the door.
“Kurt!”
“He can’t help you,”