Healing Her Boss's Heart. Dianne Drake

you were when I found you. Alone, wounded.” Except Bella’s wounds had healed. Carrie’s, on the other hand, had not. They were too deep. Too ingrained in who she was. “Part and parcel,” she said, leading Bella up the stairs. “That which has to be accepted as part of something else.” Or, in other words, as part of her.

      Once inside, Carrie debated returning to her reading or stretching out on the lumpy sofa bed. The bed won, so she stripped down to her undies, climbed in, pulled the blanket up over her and shut her eyes, even though she wasn’t the least bit tired or sleepy. But sleeping beat staying awake, thinking about her place in life. Something she was prone to doing too often.

      And ten seconds later thoughts of Jack Hanson flashed across her mind. She tingled a little, unwilling recollections skittering across her mind. His body—the muscles. His eyes—so intense. And the smile that didn’t come easily, but when it did was so...warm. Inviting. She rubbed her arms against the goose bumps coming to life. All over an image in her head. Men didn’t affect her that way. She didn’t let them. But the more she thought about Jack, and the more she tingled, the more her goose bumps marched up and down.

      Sighing, she turned on her side, hoping a new position would bring on different thoughts. But it didn’t work as Jack was still playing with her. She didn’t really know anything about him. He was gruff, which she didn’t mind. Very direct, which attracted her. And dedicated. Maybe that was his best quality. She liked dedication. Liked someone with a purpose, a destination, and it seemed that Jack had both.

      He wasn’t married, she finally decided, after turning over to her other side, realizing she was fighting a losing battle. Jack would leave her mind in his own good time, and there wasn’t much she could do to control it. No, not married...at least, he didn’t wear a wedding band. No trace of one either. And there was nothing else about him to indicate he was.

      His appearance was a little unkempt, in a rugged way. Didn’t have a wife’s finishing touch. Or what she thought should be a wife’s touch. What she’d do if she were a wife. But was he involved? Did he get involved or was he a player? “No,” she said, still trying to force the thought of him from her head as she climbed out of bed, headed to the sink for a drink of water, and was interrupted partway across the room with the “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik” jingle of her cell phone.

      “Kellem here,” she said, when her caller ID failed to note who was on the other end.

      “Jack Hanson.” Simple response. No embellishments.

      “What can I do for you, Dr. Hanson?” she asked, not sure what to make of a call coming in at nearly eleven o’clock.

      “We have a medical situation. You mentioned that you might want to take a part-time job as a paramedic. So, if that’s the case, you’re hired.”

      “A case? As in?”

      “Priscilla Anderson, one of our senior residents, is having a heart episode—not sure if it’s an attack or what—and she can’t get to us, so we need to get to her. I’m in my truck, I’ve got your address, and I’m two minutes away. Be ready. It’s going to be a hike, so be ready for that, too. Oh, and that garage you’re living above...there’s a better apartment over Millie’s Diner. A little more room, not as run-down. Probably safer.”

      “And more expensive. This place is fine. Easy on the budget.”

      “Suit yourself. But if you change your mind...” With that, he clicked off, leaving Carrie standing there, practically naked, staring at the phone, like that was going to give her more information. Which, of course, it didn’t. So, three minutes later, she ran down the outside steps of her apartment and straight to the pickup truck parked in front of it. With Bella at her heels.

      “You’re not bringing that dog, are you?” Jack grumbled, instead of greeting her with a “Hello” or “Glad you could make it.” Or even doing the polite thing by opening the truck door for her.

      “She won’t get in the way.”

      “She’ll stay in the truck,” he said, as he gunned the engine, and the tires spun briefly on the icy road before they caught traction and the three of them were on their way.

      “She’s had obedience training, and she carries my supplies. Assuming you’ve brought supplies for me to carry.”

      “I have.” Jack glanced over at the dog, who’d managed to find her spot between Carrie and him. “And you expect her to carry them in that red pack she’s wearing?”

      “Frees me up to take in additional equipment, if needed. Or, when I was working SWAT, carry a gun.”

      “They let you take her in?”

      “Nobody ever stopped me. Although I never put her in harm’s way. If there was gunfire, she stayed in the car.” She glanced over at Jack, saw the grim set of his face, and scooted back in her seat but didn’t relax. “So, why me tonight?”

      “You were free.”

      “You’ve got other students in town who could do just as well.”

      “But, as I said, we’ve got some hiking to do, and you seemed like the one to do it.”

      “Do you always make house calls?” she asked him.

      “When I have to. In areas like this, you do whatever it takes. Tonight it’s going to take a half-mile hike up a steep trail, because the road that winds up to Priscilla’s place is iced over and not safe to drive.”

      “So, how do we know it’s a heart episode?”

      “That’s what she said when she phoned me. And she only calls for help if she thinks it’s serious, so I have no reason to doubt she got it wrong. Symptoms fit. She has a history of mild heart disease. Asthma, too.” He elbowed Bella back toward Carrie. “Look, I’m not happy that you’re bringing the dog, but since she’s here there’s nothing I can do about it. So, please, keep her off my lap and don’t let her lean on me. Or drool on me.”

      “You don’t like dogs?”

      “One thing you’ll discover about me the further into training you get is that I’m not always the most tolerant person. Fair warning. I’m good at what I do, but sometimes I’m not the nicest person to be around.”

      “Any particular reason for that?” she asked.

      He shrugged. “I try to keep myself focused on my work, and I’m not good with distractions. Like dogs. Personally, I like them well enough. Just not with me on a house call.”

      And that was the last thing he said until he brought the truck to a stop on a winding, narrow road and hopped out. “Your supplies are behind the seat. Put them in the doggie bag, if that’s what you want to do. And stay as close to me as you can, because you don’t know the area, the path is going to be slick, and I don’t want you getting hurt.”

      “Guess we’d better hurry,” she said, slinging her bag of supplies over her shoulder, then scrambling along after him, trying to stay close enough that she could benefit from the flashlight he shone on the trail ahead of him.

      While she didn’t know much about mountain rescue yet, she did know that the last thing she needed was to be out on a mountain trail, in the cold, after dark, lost and alone. Not that he would care. Or even notice. Because, from her little corner of the world, it seemed that Jack Hanson wasn’t the type of person who got himself caught up in anything other than his work, the same way she didn’t. Which made him a perfect match for her—medically speaking.

      She liked that. In fact, she got excited about it as, outside her training, she’d never worked with anyone before. Always alone on the job. With backup, of course. But the medical duty had been up to her, and there had been no one there beside her to help.

      Now that Jack was practically her first partner, it felt nice. Gave her a different kind of confidence, as if, because of him, she could do more. Do better. Even the thought of watching his hands work—gentle hands, she assumed—gave her a little