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Cam grumbled and slid out of her chair.
“You really won’t budge? Maybe change your mind at the last second? A few girls from my softball team are going shopping today at the mall and hitting up the old arcade there.”
I raised an eyebrow. She blew out a breath.
“Fine.”
As Cam trudged off to her room, I called after her.
“And don’t forget to wear a big, welcoming smile when you’re at the hospital. You’re not supposed to scare people.”
“Now you’re just being a spoilsport and ruining my fun,” Cam tossed back over her shoulder.
I huffed a laugh and shook my head. As part of her punishment, I didn’t trust Cam to stay at home while I went to work. So, she was going to volunteer at the hospital for a few weeks. That way, I could keep an eye on her. I knew she would do everything in her power to get in contact with Joel again somehow. At least by keeping Cam close for a while, I could give myself some time to figure out a plan of action when I inevitably had to face Joel again.
The low growl of a motorcycle’s engine had me moving to the window before I realized what I was doing. I searched up and down the street. We were far enough outside of Merry Field that the neighborhood was scattered and sparse, a handful of houses dotting the scrubby desert.
The sound faded away and I saw no sign of a motorcycle. Was I…disappointed? Did I really want to see Joel again?
A little tug in the back of my mind whispered,yes.
But I shoved it down, silencing it.
When I tore my gaze away from the window, I felt shaky.Thank God Cam didn’t see that,I thought. She would never let me hear the end of it if she knew I was clamoring to get a glimpse of Joel, no matter how brief and desperate it was.
***
A few hours into my shift at the hospital, thoughts of Joel faded to the back of my mind. Losing myself in the rhythm of work and focusing on my patients felt good. It had been a long, hard road with many sleepless nights to finally become an RN. I’d worked two jobs and studied part-time while raising Cam.
I remember seeing that positive pregnancy test when I was eighteen years old, fresh out of high school with no idea what my future could hold. My father had died in the military when I was young and the relationship with my mother had been strained ever since, leaving me to figure things out on my own.
As a nurse, I met people like that every day—caught up in a full-blown crisis, frazzled, scared, confused, and most often in pain. Bringing them comfort in their time of need was something I never grew tired of, despite the long working hours, aching feet, and bodily fluids.
Sometime after my lunch break, I stopped by the pediatrics ward where Cam would be volunteering. Some small part of me braced myself that I might not find her there. She was strong, independent, smart, with a big heart, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she slipped out of the hospital to see Joel again.
Instead, Cam was in the play room with a bunch of toddlers. She pushed a large yellow Tonka truck around on the floor, making zooming and revving noises. When she bumped the truck into a toddler’s chubby leg, he toppled over, laughing until he was gasping for breath.
I smiled to myself and leaned one shoulder against the wall, taking a moment to observe. Growing up, Cam was always curious about her dad. I knew I couldn’t keep the truth from her forever. But I was worried, too. It didn’t matter what I felt about Joel. I didn’tknowhim. Was he a good man? Did he want to be a father? Could I trust him with my little girl’s heart?
The wail of an ambulance peeled through the parking lot. Merry Field Medical center was a small facility for a small town, which meant I was often on-call to assist in the emergency room when staff was short.
When I hurried toward the emergency entrance, a flurry of activity greeted me. Paramedics guided a gurney through the doors, bearing a man covered in blood. His shirt was cut open, his face battered, bruised, and swollen. Multiple stab wounds littered his abdomen, slicing through the tattoos on his chest and down his right side.
One of the paramedics rattled off information as Doctor Williams fell into step beside the gurney, along with his emergency care team.
“Male victim. 23 years of age. Stabbed six times. No major arteries were hit but it looks like there might be some internal bleeding.”
Doctor Williams glanced at me as he passed with a nod.
“Abby, I might need an extra pair of hands on this one. I’d appreciate it if you could stay close?”
“Of course,” I replied without hesitation.
Then he turned the corner, disappearing down the hallway with the patient. The lull that settled over me after the rush of chaos was disconcerting. I wanted to be in the middle of the action, doing whatever I could to help. Sitting around and waiting put me on edge.
“Abby?”
My heart skipped a beat at that voice. I turned to find three men standing in the emergency entrance. Jeans. Steel-toed boots. Tattoos. Leather kuts studded with patches over their chests that read President, Vice President, and Club Member. There were other patches too, some faded, some crisp and new—the silhouette of California, an American flag, a motorcycle with flames flying from the tires.
