Lancaster County Target. Kit Wilkinson

wore a white lab coat over a pressed blue oxford. His stethoscope and Fairview ID badge hung loosely around his opened collar.

      “How are you feeling, Abigail?”

      “I’m feeling a little confused.” She looked down at her limp body in the hospital bed. “I don’t remember how I got here.... I don’t know you, Doctor, do I?”

      “Nope. I’m new. Jamison. Blake Jamison.”

      “Nice to meet you, Dr. Jamison.” Her mouth was dry and it hurt to try to sit up.

      “Call me Blake. Please.” He smiled. “And take it easy. You’ve had a pretty rough day. Don’t worry if you aren’t remembering everything just yet. You will.”

      Her head was foggy and thick, but she tried to focus. An IV drip fed into her left hand. The doctor—Blake—sat on a stool to her right. She was suddenly very aware of the fact that he was a handsome man, with a nice build and a kind face.

      “So, why am I here?”

      “I was sort of hoping you could tell me that. Maybe once your head clears up.” He took her wrist in his hand. He studied her face as he counted her pulse. A strange and awkward sensation passed over Abby as his fingertips pressed her skin. She was unaccustomed to the touch of a man and especially that of a fancy Englischer.

      “I didn’t know Fairview was getting a new E.R. doctor. When did you start?”

      “Well...I’m just here temporarily. I’m filling in for Dr. Finley.”

      “Oh, right. I remember now reading something about him teaching a course in one of the hospital newsletters. I didn’t realize he would be away from the hospital for that. Do you often fill in for doctors on leave?”

      “This is my first time. I have a private practice in New York. I’m just here for a change of scenery. Eight weeks. Then I’ll go back.” He released her arm. His lips pursed, as if he was thinking about something far away. “Seventy-two. Much better. You had me pretty scared there. Never a dull moment at this place.”

      He used his stethoscope and listened to her breathing and her heart. Then he whipped the instrument out from his ears and again rested it like an adornment around his neck. The light scent of musky cologne wafted over her.

      “Did you say never a dull moment?” She tilted her head and glanced at him sideways. “I am still at Fairview Hospital, right?”

      He chuckled and started to respond when an electronic device at his waist began to vibrate. “See what I mean?”

      He took the phone into his hands, silenced it, read the message and returned it to his waist. “Not important. So, how’s the head?”

      “It’s a little tender.”

      “I’ll have Janice bring you some Tylenol. Drink lots of fluids. Get some more rest. I’ll check back in another hour.”

      “Wait. I have questions. You can’t leave yet.” She wanted more information than that. “How did I get here? Where did this bruising come from? Why am I hooked up to a heart monitor? How long was I unconscious? And why?”

      His phone began to buzz again. He clenched his jaw as he looked at the screen and silenced it. “Sorry. Friends back in New York who think I’m available 24/7. Not important. Again. And that’s a lot of questions. I thought the doctor always asked the questions.”

      “You can’t expect me to just lie here and not know what happened.” She met his steady gaze.

      “I might if I think that’s what’s best for you.”

      What? Who did this doctor think he was? Was he really not going to tell her anything? “At least tell me what day it is.”

      “It’s Thursday,” he said, following it up with the date.

      “Thursday,” she repeated. She leaned back into her pillow with a frown. It seemed that her memory was only missing most of one day. The damage could have been much worse...and yet it was troubling to think of those lost hours, especially given the injuries she’d sustained.

      “You look upset.” He stepped back inside the curtained area. “Worrying about your memory may only block it longer. Try to relax. Think about the things you did early this morning.”

      Abby shook her head. “Nothing. I don’t remember a thing. Please, isn’t there anything you can tell me about what happened? At least explain the heart monitor.”

      “Well, we aren’t completely certain, but apparently, you took a hefty dose of epinephrine.” His words were slow. His tone kind and compassionate. “Fortunately, you’re strong and your body quickly absorbed much of the excess. We gave you something to calm your heart. It worked just the way it was supposed to—the monitor is just here as a precaution. You’re going to be fine. There will be no long-term effects.”

      “Epinephrine?”

      “Yes, it almost threw you into cardiac arrest.”

      “How? Why would I take epinephrine? That’s crazy. Are you sure?” In a blink, Abby had a flash image of a shaking hand raising a needle to her arm. It was dark, like nighttime.

      “You were found with an empty syringe, which we are pretty certain contained a killer amount of epinephrine before having a meeting with your arm.”

      “Wait a minute, what else? I—I...” She looked down at her bruised arm. Her pulse started to rise. Someone had held her. So tight. She remembered her arm had felt as if it might break. She also remembered a man so close she could feel his breath on her neck. Abby shivered. “Someone gave me a shot. He was holding me around the arm. But where was I? And how did I get here?”

      Blake’s lips pressed together as he seemed to consider how much to tell her. He frowned. “The custodian found you on the third floor. He said you were out cold in the stairwell by that big hall that’s being renovated. He’s the one who brought you down. He saved your life. Now, look, you’re getting too worked up. Try to rest. We can continue this conversation in a bit. You’re very weak.”

      The third floor. Cold gray eyes. Abby could feel the tension rising in her, and it wasn’t because of her condition. She locked eyes with the doctor. More images shot through her mind. Gurney. Syringe. Eyes. Icy, fiery eyes. She flung the sheet off her lap and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I need to go back upstairs. Someone’s in trouble. I wasn’t the only one who was injected.”

      Blake placed a hand on her shoulder that gently but firmly kept her from moving. “Slow down, Abby. You could still be under the effects of the drugs.”

      “No. Really, I’m fine.” She slipped from his reach and stood. Her legs felt like cooked spaghetti. Blake caught her as she leaned back for support.

      “It will have to wait, Abby. You need to rest.”

      “I’ll rest later.” She pushed the doctor and his restraining arms away.

      She didn’t remember all the details of her attack, but she knew someone else had been in danger. She couldn’t wait a minute longer—she might already be too late.

      * * *

      Blake could hardly believe the beautiful but provoking patient had talked him into letting her out of bed. Of course, when she’d plucked the IV from the back of her hand with a single yank, it was clear she was going to get up to the third floor with or without his approval. Since his shift had ended, he thought it best to accompany her. At least that way he could confine her to a wheelchair and keep an eye on her.

      “Janice told me that you were raised Amish,” Blake commented as he wheeled her into the elevator.

      She nodded. “It’s true.”

      “So why did you decide to stop being Amish? If you don’t mind me asking?”

      She laughed. “I don’t mind you asking at all. But I wouldn’t say that I