She paused. She knew Cal was listening even though she couldn’t see him. She wondered if he’d say anything. Spare her from having to finish it. But he remained silent. Scout rolled over in his sleep, and his paw must have connected with the wall. She could hear the scraping sound before he started snoring again.

  “Overnight Jake’s blood pressure plummeted and he died of sepsis.”

  She heard Cal push his chair back, heard him approach. He was behind her, wrapping his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder, his face next to hers. “You can’t blame yourself for that. You made the best decision you could under the circumstances. We’re all human. None of us is perfect. None of us makes the right decision one hundred percent of the time. Also, you couldn’t ignore his parents’ wishes. With Todd and me, I tortured myself for a long time. What if I’d taken Carnegie Avenue instead of La Salle Boulevard? Would I have gotten all green lights and not had to slow down to clear those intersections on La Salle? Could I have been in time, if only I’d had the guts to drive even faster?” He paused.

  She felt his warm breath on her cheek and inhaled the fresh, clean scent of his soap.

  “It’s not your fault,” he repeated. “You can’t blame yourself.”

  She exhaled heavily and shook her head. “I can and I do...every day. And I’m not the only one. Jake’s parents blamed me, too. They accused me of malpractice.”

  He gently turned her to face him. “They were grieving, distraught. Under the circumstances, it’s understandable, but that doesn’t make them right.”

  “Yeah. People told me that, too. My parents. Colleagues. But I was struggling with my own grief and self-recrimination, and I was too preoccupied to notice the change in people’s attitudes. I was found guilty by my peers before the investigation even began. I had no collegial support. The hospital was sued, too.”

  “What were the findings of the investigation?”

  She lifted a shoulder, let it drop again. “I was cleared of malpractice. All my actions and decisions were deemed defensible and consistent with best practices. I got to keep my job. There was a settlement with Jake’s family, not on the basis of fault, but to avoid a lengthy court battle that could have reflected negatively on the hospital.”

  Cal thought about his own circumstances after Anna’s allegations, and the parallels did not escape him. “So you did what you considered best for the boy and you were vindicated by the investigation.”

  “The investigation might have found in my favor, but I... I couldn’t...not to this day...overcome my own feelings of guilt...of culpability. I seriously thought about giving up medicine altogether.”

  He tightened his hold on her, and she turned to face him. “What made you change your mind?”

  “My parents. They’ve always believed in me. They’ve always been my rock.” She laughed. “They even played their trump card. They’d put me through university—not easy with their income. How could I throw all that away, they asked. In the end, I let them convince me.”

  “And you changed your field of specialization.”

  “Yes. I knew that by allowing myself to get close to Jake, get emotionally connected with him, I’d lost my perspective...”

  “That’s ridiculous!” Cal cut in. “How could you think such a thing. If you didn’t care, you’d be a lousy doctor. Don’t confuse caring with losing perspective.”

  She huffed out a breath. “All right, I believed and still believe that becoming too close to a patient can cloud my judgment, can make me potentially incapable of unbiased decisions. Please let me finish,” she urged as he was about to interrupt again. “In hindsight, I’ve asked myself over and over, if I’d been strictly analytical, scientific, removed my feelings from the equation, would I have amputated the limb to save Jake? My entire career I’ve struggled to maintain the ‘detached concern’ that was a basic tenet they tried to drill into us in medical school. I don’t know how other doctors achieve it. We’re dealing with people’s lives, not manufacturing widgets here. Well, with me, the ‘detached concern’ tenet never took, and I feel my inability might have cost Jake his life.”

  “So...not wanting to risk getting emotionally involved with a patient again, you left pediatrics in favor of trauma medicine?”

  “Yes.” She was comforted that he seemed to understand her rationale. Her parents had been relieved about her compromise, but never understood it. “I felt that with trauma, I wouldn’t spend enough time with a single patient to establish a connection. Right or wrong, it’s also easier for me to maintain my...detachment with adults. In trauma, I see fewer children.”

  “That’s the decision you made, and I respect it, but is it really a solution?”

  “I felt—feel—it was the only one I could make at the time, short of leaving medicine.”

  Cal stepped back and his gaze held hers. “What about Kayla?”

  Jessica felt the blood drain from her face. “Kayla’s your patient. You kept her as your patient.”

  She nodded mutely.

  He placed his hands gently on her shoulder. “So, you’ve broken your own rule with Kayla, by caring deeply about her and choosing to be her primary care physician.”

  “Yes.” The word was more of a breath than a whisper. Tears clouded her vision again, and she could feel her panic building. “Thank God she wasn’t badly injured, because I struggled with it nearly every day, wondering if I was doing the right thing for her, ordering the right tests, not missing anything I should’ve seen. None of those decisions meant life or death in her case, and I was still a mess.”

  “And you found the fluid on her lung that the other doctor would’ve been oblivious to because he didn’t order the CT. That alone could have saved her life.”

  She sighed. “Today, I saw that boy, so similar to Jake, and I couldn’t deal with it.” The tears were stinging her eyes, and when she looked up at Cal again, she braced herself for the reprimand.

  Instead, Cal gathered her in his arms, cradling her head against his shoulder. “In a world that’s been very cruel to Kayla, she was fortunate to have you watching out for her.”

  “And today...?” She gazed at him, wanting his understanding, not willing to hope for absolution.

  “Today couldn’t be helped.”

  Jessica slid her arms around him and let the tears flow.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  MONDAY AFTER WORK, Scout and Cal walked out of the division and toward his car. With each passing day, Cal felt stronger, and not quite as drained. He was hoping they’d clear him for regular duty soon, as opposed to this joke of modified police work, which essentially amounted to administrative tasks.

  He’d wanted to call Jessica, but the day had gotten away from him. He’d been worried about her ever since she’d confided in him the week before. He couldn’t begin to understand the demons she was trying to overcome, but he wanted her to know he was there for her, to support her, whatever she needed. The incident had somehow made him care even more about her; perhaps it was her vulnerability.

  He realized he wanted to both protect her and cherish her. He knew she was working nights this week, and he wouldn’t be able to spend the evenings with her.

  Near the parking lot, he heard heated voices in the training yard and walked over to the fence. He saw Vasquez and Brody and Brody’s dog, Nitro, and words were definitely being exchanged. Curious, he stopped to watch.

  Brody yanked Nitro’s leash, and they exited the yard through the far gate, while Rick headed back in Cal’s direction. Rick called his dog, Sniff, who’d been lying quietly in the corner of the yard, not far from him and Scout.

  Rick’s face was flushed and Cal could see the tension in his stride and deportment as he left the yard through the gate closest to Cal.

  Cal fell in step beside Rick as Scout and Sniff exchanged greetings. “
What was that all about?”

  Rick shook his head. “Don’t get me going about that moron. He’s lucky I didn’t clock him.”

  “The guy’s a jerk,” Cal agreed.

  “If that’s all it was, I could let it go.” Rick stopped, shoved his hands in his pockets and stared down at the ground. “I’m worried about Nitro. He’s an exceptional dog, but he’s still young and impressionable. I think that moron is going to ruin him.”

  “I wish I could disagree with you, but... I can’t.” Cal thought back for a moment. “In fact, I told Jagger the very same thing the day I came in after the earthquake.”

  “Frankly, I don’t know why Logan keeps Brody on. Brody’s a disgrace to our unit.”

  “Yeah, I can’t argue with that, either. Want to grab a beer? I’ll buy.”

  Rick patted Cal on the back. “Thanks for the offer. I’ll take a rain check. Right now I want to blow off some steam with Jagger and then go for a workout. You should get home, anyway. I know the days are still wearing on you.” Rick whistled to Sniff, but called out to Cal before he entered the building. “I won’t forget about the rain check, though. You owe me!”

  When Cal got home, he took a Coke Zero and a couple of frozen burgers from his refrigerator, and noticed the message light flashing on his phone. Taking a long drink from the can, he put his voice mail on speaker.

  “This is Melody Ashworth, the caseworker for your daughter.” The voice with the Southern accent drifted through the room.

  Cal lowered the can slowly and moved closer to the phone. His heart was thundering and his palms were suddenly damp.

  “I’m pleased to let you know that the visitation with your daughter, Haley, has been arranged, as you requested. The pictures of Scout did the trick. Thank you for sending them to me.”

  The message went on to give him the proposed date and time. “The visit will be supervised by me,” she added. “Your request to introduce Haley to your service dog has also been authorized. To facilitate this, I recommend the visit be at Cedar City’s municipal offices. There’s a small private courtyard at the back of the building. If that’s acceptable to you, we can meet there.” She explained that her role was to ensure Haley’s well-being. If his daughter seemed distressed or at risk in any way, she’d end the visit immediately. Although her comments got his back up, his focus remained on the fact that he’d be seeing Haley.

  Cal jotted down the particulars Melody provided, saved the message and, with a loud, “Huh,” dropped into his easy chair in the living room. Gradually he let a smile spread across his face until he was grinning. He let out a hoot so loud he startled Scout. Calming him, Cal shook his head slowly. “Well, what do you know? It worked!”

  He was going to see his little girl.

  He sprang up, startling Scout again. After assuring him once more that all was well, he went back to the phone.

  First, he called Melody Ashworth to confirm the meeting and, pushing the offensive cautionary words out of his mind, he thanked her profusely for making it possible.

  Next, he called the number for Ocean Crest Hospital and entered Jessica’s extension. He knew she was working, but when the call went to voice mail, he decided against leaving a message. This was not the type of appreciation you expressed through voice mail.

  The welcome news must have given him his second wind; he no longer felt the least bit tired. He grabbed a light jacket and headed back out the door.

  He stopped at a market on his way to the hospital and bought the largest bouquet of flowers they had.

  At Ocean Crest he went directly to Jessica’s office, but found her door locked. Glancing around, he recognized one of the trauma nurses at the unit station. Her name was Marian...or Marcia. He remembered her from the triage area at the earthquake site.

  “What lovely flowers!” she said when he approached her. “Are they for a patient? Lucky person, whoever it is.”

  Cal surreptitiously read the name on the tag pinned to her lab coat. “It’s nice to see you again, Marcia. No, they’re not for a patient. These are for Jessica. Is she around?”

  “Oh, I remember you from the earthquake triage site. Sorry, but Jessica stepped out for a couple of hours.”

  The disappointment must have shown on his face, as Marcia—preoccupied though she seemed to be—checked her watch and hurried on. “She had a meeting or something. Or an interview. I can’t remember exactly what she said. Anyway, she only went a few blocks away and should be back anytime. You’re welcome to wait. Or I can take the flowers for you and put them in water.”

  “Thanks. An interview?” He remembered Jessica telling him she’d considered getting out of medicine altogether after the tragic incident with the young boy. He hoped that wasn’t the case. “She’s not planning to leave medicine, is she?” He was mildly annoyed that if she had an interview she hadn’t mentioned it to him.

  Marcia laughed. “Oh, definitely not! No. It’s... Let me think. It’s with an organization. What was it called?” The telephone rang; she picked it up and spoke for a few minutes, then turned back to Cal. “Now, where were we?”

  “You were telling me where Jessica is.”

  “Oh, right. She’s meeting with...”

  A doctor came over then and had a brief discussion with Marcia. She made some notes on her computer.

  “Now, can I take those flowers for you, or would you like to wait?”

  “Where did you say she went?” Cal was feeling distinctly uncomfortable with what he was hearing.

  “Oh, right. She’s meeting with someone from...” She snapped her fingers. “That’s it! The Care Across Continents organization. You must’ve heard of them. Who can blame them for being interested in Jessica with her experience and credentials?”

  Marcia’s face showed pride, almost as if it was her daughter she was talking about. But Cal’s mood had soured. “I didn’t realize they were looking for doctors to work here,” he said cautiously.

  “They’re not, no. It’s an assignment out of the country.”

  “Oh. Thank you.” Cal didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t know what this meant or why she hadn’t told him.

  He didn’t bother passing the flowers to Marcia, nor was he inclined to wait.

  He retraced his steps to the entrance but he felt dejected. He’d thought there was something between him and Jessica. He’d let his guard down. He’d confided some of his most personal feelings to her—about his work, his marriage and Haley—and she didn’t even tell him she was planning to leave San Diego. Leave the continent, for that matter.

  Just as he was beginning to fall in love with her... Love? Was that what he was feeling? He’d have to think about that later. But they unquestionably had some kind of relationship, some kind of bond. He’d trusted her, and the fact that she’d withheld such crucial information troubled him. He hadn’t thought she’d be deceitful, but it seemed he’d misjudged.

  His ex-wife, Anna, came to mind. How long had she kept critical information about their marriage from him before she dropped the bomb—telling him it was over?

  Was Jessica doing the same thing now?

  Maybe it was him. Maybe all the women in his life were destined to be devious and untrustworthy. Although he’d been finding it harder and harder to resist the beautiful doctor, his resolve to avoid romantic entanglement had just resurfaced full force.

  He saw a waste container outside the main entrance doors and tossed in the flowers.

  * * *

  JESSICA SAT BEHIND her desk after returning to the hospital from her meeting with Dr. Harold Massey. She stared out the window but her mind wasn’t on what was going on outside.

  The meeting had gone well. Harold had introduced her to Raymond Goulding, the executive director of Care Across Continents, and she’d left her résumé with him. He promised he’d look it
over and, if all seemed to be in order, he’d give her a call in a few days to set up an interview.

  Jessica thought about Kayla and the other important things she’d have to deal with if she left the country.

  Kayla would be fine. She was confident about that. The child was doing so much better in her group home, thanks to Cal and Scout and their visits. She contemplated Cal’s desire to adopt Kayla, and she hoped his efforts would come to fruition. But she reminded herself again that there was nothing she could do about it. As her father was prone to saying, she couldn’t save the world, wish as she might.

  But even if the adoption didn’t work out, Jessica had to trust that the system would take care of Kayla. She’d done everything she could, and she had to shut it down now. Kayla’s health was fine, and the child was no longer her responsibility, not since she’d been discharged.

  That was for the best, Jessica reminded herself. Although Kayla’s injuries hadn’t been too serious, Jessica had found herself questioning virtually all her decisions related to the girl’s care. The memory of Jake, the boy who’d lost his life because of her, continued to make her doubt herself every step of the way.

  Then her thoughts turned to the boy Cal had brought into emergency and what she’d done. She’d panicked and run away. She couldn’t keep doing that. She couldn’t.

  But if she left California...

  She thought about Cal, and the constriction in her chest made her gasp. Had she acted too rashly? How could she leave Cal, considering how she felt about him?

  But if she stayed...and someone died because she didn’t provide the proper care...

  She’d wondered whether it would be different with Care Across Continents, and she’d concluded it would be. She’d see a patient once—usually for basic things—and that would be that. There’d be no opportunity for emotional attachment.

  But what about the boy in emergency? No. That was an aberration. That wouldn’t happen again. It was the emotional entanglement she had to avoid.