Fated Love (7 page)

"I don't know
what
it is, really." Honor ran a hand distractedly through her hair, frowning at her own jumbled thoughts. It was hard to recall just what exactly about Quinn bothered her, especially when she remembered sitting with her in the car while the rain beat down around them, enclosing them in a thundering gray cocoon, and seeing that sliver of pain flash across Quinn's expressive face. "She was hired without my input, so that annoyed me at first. Her qualifications don't really fit the job description, so that makes me suspicious of a problem in her background."

"Don't fit how?"

"She's not trained in emergency medicine; she's trained in surgery. There's no reason she should want this position."

"Is she doing a good job?" Phyllis continued her gentle probing because she and Honor often talked over Honor's frustrations and triumphs at work. More than that, she sensed that her daughter-in-law was troubled.

"Yes. Fine. Considering her training wasn't in emergency medicine, better than I had hoped at this point." Honor sipped her coffee, finally feeling warm. "She works hard, never complains, and is reasonably good natured about what has to be a difficult adjustment for her."

"Sounds like she's a great new addition to your staff, then."

"I suppose you're right." Honor aimlessly turned her coffee mug on the tabletop, staring at the swirling liquid. "I just can't help feeling that there's something she's hiding."

"We all have things we'd rather not talk about, Honor," Phyllis reminded her gently. "Those things aren't necessarily bad, only painful sometimes."

Honor raised her eyes to Phyllis, and, as was so often the case, they shared a moment of mutual sadness and understanding.

* * * * *

Quinn blinked the sweat from her eyes, and despite the ominous shaking in her arms, pushed the barbell straight up in the air one more time and slowly lowered it until it almost touched her chest. She held it to the count of two, then laboriously raised it and levered it back onto the cleats. With a gasp of relief, she closed her eyes and let her arms hang down by her sides as she waited for her breathing to return to normal. She hadn't had a full workout in months, and despite the fact that she had been advised to start slowly, she'd been pushing herself hard for the last hour. Now her entire body was so tired, she wasn't certain she could sit up. Absently, she reached up with her right hand and rubbed the annoying itch above her left breast.

"I wasn't certain you were going to make that last one," a soft voice with a sensuous drawl said from beside her.

Quinn turned her head, opened her eyes, and looked into the emerald green eyes inches from her own. Those striking eyes, shadowed by long honey-colored lashes, were set in a Meryl Streep face that was framed by thick blond hair. Quinn blinked. "Hello?"

The wide, full mouth stretched into a lazy smile. "Hello yourself. I'm Mandy."

"Quinn."

Mandy, who crouched beside Quinn, wore a black jog bra and spandex workout shorts that left her toned midriff bare and showed off the rest of her body to perfection. She rested her fingertips lightly on Quinn's left upper arm. "I know this sounds like a line, but are you new in town?"

"I've been here a few weeks." Quinn laughed and pushed herself upright on the workout bench, then swung around until she faced the kneeling woman. "First time
here,
though."

"I'm one of the personal trainers. I was going to ask you if you needed any help, but I can see that you don't." As she spoke, Mandy's eyes drifted slowly down Quinn's body.

Quinn wore gray Champion shorts and a T-shirt that had been cut off above the waist and at the shoulders. Her skin shone lightly with perspiration. She was warm, and it wasn't entirely from the workout. Mandy's gaze was openly appreciative, and it didn't escape Quinn's notice either that Mandy's hand now rested ever so gently against Quinn 's knee. Unexpectedly, Quinn felt her heart race.

Mandy gave a startled laugh and pulled her hand back. "God, I believe I felt sparks!"

Quinn blushed, quickly suppressing a gasp. "I think that's what you call static electricity."

"Really," Mandy said disbelievingly, tilting her head and giving Quinn another lazy smile. "Whatever you call it, it was nice."

Abruptly, Quinn stood, anticipating the dizziness and waiting for it to pass. "I've got to run. It was nice meeting you, Mandy."

Mandy rose to her feet, momentarily barring Quinn's path. "It was nice meeting you, too, Quinn. I hope I'll be seeing you again soon."

"I'm sure I'll run into you here. Night."

It was after ten, and, deciding to shower at home, Quinn hurriedly packed her gear. Outside, the storm had abated, leaving behind only a thick clinging mist that shimmered in the air and felt heavy on her skin. The health club that she had discovered in the neighborhood guide and had joined just that evening was in Alden Park, a collection of ornate red stone buildings clustered on a hill overlooking Lincoln Drive and the wild, northern extension of Fairmont Park. It was a brisk ten-minute walk from her apartment, and she decided to take the "long" way home by circling a small corner park that bordered her street to the south.

It was a residential neighborhood and, late on a weeknight, the streets were deserted. Moisture floating in the air cast halos around the streetlights, and as Quinn walked through the dark from one circle of light to the next, she felt isolated and eerily alone. That was a new feeling, that sense of being alone. Or to be accurate, she thought, her
awareness
of being alone.

She'd either been too busy or too focused to notice before. She'd been on the fast track since she Was fifteen years old, skipping a year of high school and then entering an accelerated combined college and medical school program. At about the time others her age were finishing college and contemplating the benefits of taking a year off before entering graduate school, she had begun her internship. Nothing had stood in her way, nothing had ever slowed her down, until everything had come to a screeching halt just when she thought she had accomplished her goal.

Quinn was so immersed in her reminiscences that when a shape materialized out of the shadows, she gasped in surprise and stumbled to a halt. Realizing almost immediately that it was just another late-night stroller, she moved forward again, feeling foolish. As the figure neared, she stared, thinking at first that she merely imagined the familiar stride and unmistakable form.

"Honor?" Quinn asked when it became apparent that she had not been mistaken.

Honor halted within touching distance of Quinn, and Pooch obediently sat at her side. She brushed her hair back with one hand, taking a moment to hide her discomfort. She had been thinking about Quinn, remembering the events of the afternoon again, and to see her suddenly appear was disorienting. "Hi. I...uh..." She motioned to Pooch with her chin. "Walking the dog."

"I see that." Quinn extended her fingers toward the dog and got a warm lick as a reward. "Hi, pooch."

"Yes." Honor laughed. "That's him. Pooch."

Quinn raised a brow.

"His name. Pooch."

"Ah!" Quinn laughed. "He's very well behaved."

"That's an anomaly, I can assure you." Honor smiled, feeling foolish for her previous discomfort. "What about you? Kind of late for a stroll."

Quinn lifted her gym bag. "Working out."

Honor shook her head. "Don't you ever relax?"

"It was either that or unpack boxes." Quinn shrugged. "Seemed like a no-brainer to me."

By silent agreement, Honor turned around, and together they walked in the direction of their homes, making intermittent stops so that Pooch could smell a particularly delightful morsel of trash or leave his mark on top of one left by some interloper into his territory.

"I take it you didn't have much time to move," Honor said conversationally.

Quinn hesitated, then said, "I wasn't certain I would get this job, and then when I did, I only had a couple of weeks to find a place to live. I was lucky to get one so close to work."

"Do you intend to bike all winter?"

"As long as I can. I can always walk if the weather gets too bad."

Honor laughed. "I think you'll change your mind round about January. I'll see what I can do about getting you a parking space in the doctors' lot. They're rare as hen's teeth, but I'll cash in on some favors."

"Don't bother," Quinn said without thinking. "I can't drive."

"What? You don't know how to drive?"

"No, I..
.uh...don't
drive," Quinn amended quickly. "No car."

Honor cocked her head and gave Quinn a curious stare.
She's lying.
She knew it as surely as she had ever known anything.
But why?

"Well, then. I'll hold on to those favors."

"Thanks anyways," Quinn said awkwardly. Being around Honor made her forget her usual caution, which was not only disconcerting, but dangerous.

"This is my house," Honor said, indicating a dwelling setback from the street behind a white picket fence.

"Good night, Honor," Quinn said softly.

"See you tomorrow." Honor turned quickly into the driveway, pulling Pooch along while ignoring the insistent urge to watch until Quinn disappeared from sight. But as much as she would have liked to, it was hard to deny that she was already looking forward to seeing Quinn in the morning.

Chapter Six

H onor leaned over the bed, her stethoscope against the chest of a ten-year-old asthmatic, listening to the air flow in and out with each cycle of respiration. A few scattered wheezes still remained, but she was satisfied that the inhalation therapy she had prescribed to ease the constriction in the little boy's bronchial passages had begun to work. She looked up as Linda poked her head around the edge of the curtain. The expression on Linda's face brought Honor hurrying toward her.

"What is it?" From the alarm on her friend's face, she expected to hear that there'd been a multivehicular crash on the Schuylkill Expressway and that they were expecting six major traumas.

"Rodney just called from the job site. There's been an accident."

"Accident? What kind of accident? "

"I don't know. Something about Terry being in an accident. Then the ambulance arrived and he had to go."

"Ambulance? For
Terry?"
Honor's heart began to race. "Terry's been in an accident? What happened? "

"That's all he said, honey. That's all know."

Honor looked around the emergency room as if seeing it for the first time. Everything was so white, so sterile, so incredibly impersonal.
Terry. They're bringing Terry here.
Honor was a second-year resident, and until two minutes ago, she had thought she could handle anything.
Terry.
She took a breath, reminded herself that this was her domain, her kingdom. She
could
handle what was coming. That's what she did. She 'd take care of Terry.

"Did they say how bad?" Her voice came out hoarse, but steady.

"Nothing." Linda's eyes were round, the pupils dilated. "Rodney...wasn't making a lot of sense. I'm sorry."

Honor's chest was tight, every breath an effort, and when she started toward trauma one, she found that her feet would barely move.
Surely it's nothing serious. Contractors are always getting banged up. Twisted knees, jammed shoulders, bumps on the head. God, I hope she wasn't fooling around with the carpenters again. She knows how much I hate her doing anything with those damn power tools. She's supposed to be the job foreman—keeping the crews organized—-not spending her time actually rebuilding the damn houses!

"Can you get the ambulance on the radio?" Honor finally managed to start moving. "Get an update on her condition? "

"Sure." Linda nodded vigorously. "Right away."

Before Linda had a chance to make that call, the ambulance bay doors burst open and three EMTs pushing a stretcher came crashing through. One look at the still form strapped to a backboard with sandbags on either side of the pale face turned Honor's legs to jelly, and her stomach heaved.
Not just a minor accident. Oh my God.

When she tried to speak, no words came out. When she tried to raise her hand, her arm felt leaden. As if in a dream, she watched, nearly paralyzed, as Linda directed the EMTs into the procedure room. Two ER attendings, another resident,' and as many nurses rushed after them. Finally, Honor followed.

At the threshold, Honor halted, staring at the flurry of activity surrounding her lover. She recognized the routine, but it seemed so out of place with Terry lying there so still. After only a moment, the activity abruptly halted, and Linda materialized from the crowd, a strange look in her eyes. She walked to Honor and took her arm.

"Come over here, honey."

Honor protested when Linda started to draw her away from the room. "No. I have to help. I have to take care of her."

"Honor...Honor, sweetheart, her neck is broken. It must have been instantaneous." Linda's face was white. "There's nothing they can do. She's dead, sweetheart."

"Of course she isn't. That's ridiculous." Honor turned and started back toward trauma one. This time, it was as if she were
swimming against a tidal wave. As hard as she tried, she couldn 't seem to make any progress. It was difficult to see, there was so much water in her eyes. She kept wiping them, but the moisture covered her cheeks, blurring her vision. Beneath the roar of the rushing water, she could hear Linda s voice, soothing and gentle.

"Honor. She s gone."

By the time Honor forced her way through the crowd, she could see through her tears. That's when she knew they were wrong. Terry was just asleep. There wasn 't a mark on her face or her body. Her eyes were closed, her expression peaceful, and she was warm when Honor rested her fingers against her cheek. Her lover looked just exactly as she had that morning, still bundled under the covers of their bed, when Honor had kissed her goodbye. Of course she wasn't gone.