Out of the Shadows (17 page)

Of all the women in line, she was by far the prettiest,
with eyes almost too big for her delicate face and a smile that would put the sun’s glow to shame. Though petite, she had a certain strength to her bearing. The harsh overhead lights illuminated her face. As if she sensed someone looking at the scar, she fluffed her hair to hide it.

Most women would have seen a plastic surgeon by now to have the thing removed. The fact that Patrice
hadn’t
reminded Wade just how responsible she felt for Gus’s condition.

He made a mental note to do a better job of convincing her that the accident hadn’t been her fault, that the scar didn’t matter a whit to him—because in every way imaginable, she outshone every other woman he’d known.

Patrice looked up just then, and when her eyes locked on his, he smiled. Maybe Adam was right, he thought as his heart hammered against his rib cage; maybe Patrice was “the one.”

The fact that he’d never so much as entertained the thought before had to mean
something.

Didn’t it?

S
he could only hope the cashier was an honest woman. How was she supposed to double-check the correct change with Wade standing there, looking at her like
that?
Sighing, Patrice thanked the lady at the register and tucked the money under her salad plate.

If only he wasn’t so all-fired good-looking, maybe it would be easier to stick to her decision. As it was, she had this lunch—and one more dinner—to get through, thanks to her limited willpower…and his irresistible smile.

“Who was that man?” she asked, sliding the tray onto their table.

“My partner,” Wade said, sitting across from her. “Adam Thorne. Amazing, isn’t it, that people can work at the same complex for years, and never meet?”

Shrugging, she took their food from the tray. “Well, it’s like you said, this place is like a small city.” The amazing thing to her was, long before that so-called “first day” in Emily’s room, she’d noticed
Wade
…brow furrowed in concentration as he studied patient charts,
looking sympathetic and understanding as he discussed diagnoses and prognoses with relatives, explaining treatment to the nurses.

She’d seen him in the elevator, looking harried and hurried as he frowned at the numbers above the door, and in the halls, lab coat flapping behind him like a superhero cape as he rushed from room to room completing his rounds.

Patrice grinned as she handed him his silverware, because Wade didn’t know it, but she’d stood behind him right here in the cafeteria line once…and ended up chiding herself for staring in open admiration of his tall, muscular body.

The smile vanished, though, when she pictured the ravishing blonde from the newspaper’s engagement announcement. Patrice supposed if she, herself, had been model-gorgeous, he might’ve noticed her, maybe only once, but since she wasn’t…

He squirted catsup on his burger. “I said that?”

His question brought her back to the moment. “Uh-huh. The day we met—or rather, met again—in Emily’s room, you said something about Ellicott General being the size of a small city.”

Topping off the catsup with a dollop of mustard, he nodded. “Oh, yeah. When you were giving me directions to your office.” He smiled. “How could I have forgotten one of the best days of my life?”

She’d just speared a slice of cucumber, and his comment halted its trip to her mouth. In a feeble attempt to hide her surprise, Patrice reached for her bottle of spring-water. “Don’t forget your change,” she said, pointing at the coins and bills still lying on the tray. “Thanks for lunch, by the way. I forgot to pack mine and—”

He looked up, brows drawn together in confusion.
“Why would you bring your lunch when I said I’d treat you today?”

She remembered the message she’d left him earlier. How would she weasel out of this one? she wondered.

“So what came up?” he asked.

Blinking, Patrice said, “Came up?”

“You said earlier you’d left me a message. To say you had to cancel?”

“Oh, that…” She dipped the cucumber slice in blue cheese dressing. “I, um, managed to rearrange things.” At least she hadn’t needed to resort to dishonesty.

“You were great with Emily before. Thanks for calming her down.”

“I was glad to do it.” She put down her fork and, elbows on the table, linked her fingers together. “If I’m not out of line, do you mind telling me how long she has?”

He shook his head slowly. “Couple weeks, a month at best.”

Patrice groaned softly. “I hate this part of the job.”

“Losing patients, you mean?”

Nodding, she said, “I wish we could send them
all
home happy and healthy and—”

“Then, why do you do it?” He dabbed a paper napkin to the corners of his mouth. “You could walk away from this any time…do something less depressing for a living.”

“It isn’t
all
depressing. There are plenty of joyful moments. But even if there wasn’t even one, anyone who works here could walk away, find a line of work that’s easier on the heartstrings.”

He thought for a moment. “Good point.” Picking up the hamburger again, he continued. “I know why I stay—why do
you?
”

Patrice sighed. “There’s no simple answer to that question. I know it’d be a lot easier,” she admitted, “working in a traditional clinic setting, counseling schoolyard bullies and kids with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, or helping children deal with divorce…. But there are plenty of well-trained professionals willing to do that kind of work.
This,
” she said, hands out to indicate the hospital, “this is a
calling.
”

“Like the ministry?”

She told herself that note of sarcasm in his voice lived only in her imagination. “Exactly.” Then she said, “So why do
you
stay? Your job is a lot harder on you than mine could ever be on me.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Like you said, there’s no easy answer.” He met her eyes to add, “I guess if I had to sum it up in a sentence, I’d have to say I’m here because I don’t have any choice.”

“What do you mean? ’Course you have a choice!”

His hazel eyes glittered darkly, reminding her of the ring Gus used to wear, the one with the tigereye stone set in sterling.

“Don’t presume to know what makes me tick, Patrice.”

His voice, the set of his jaw, even his posture had changed in the brief instant it took to make the blunt statement. “I’m sorry,” she said, meaning it. “I never meant to pry, or imply that—”

Wade’s eyes never left hers, not as he put down his burger, not as he wiped his hands, not even as he reached out and grabbed her fingertips. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I never should’ve barked at you. That was totally uncalled for.” Brow furrowed and lips taut, he stared at his plate and shook his head. “Maybe someday, I’ll tell you the story of why I became a doctor in the first
place.” And meeting her eyes, he added, his voice softer, his expression gentler, “For now, trust me when I say I don’t have a choice in the matter. Okay?”

Patrice looked at their hands, linked companionably. “Okay,” she whispered. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

His brows rose. “What won’t?”

Sliding her fingers from his grasp, she said, “I resent presumptuous people. Resent it even more when I become one of them.”

He caught one hand, and this time held it between his own. “Patrice, you’re one of the finest human beings I’ve ever met, bar none. I’ve never said that to a woman in my life, and that’s the God’s honest truth.”

She didn’t know how to respond to his straightforward praise, and so Patrice stared silently at the class ring on his left hand. Maybe someday, he’d replace it with a wedding band…one she’d slide onto his finger as he said—

“And you’re beautiful, to boot.”

Her dreamy girlish thoughts were dangerous, and she knew it. After giving his hand a gentle squeeze, she wriggled free of his grip. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen any of Dad’s test results yet?”

Chuckling, Wade said, “Nice save, kiddo.” Then, “No, I haven’t heard a word yet, but I lit a fire under ’em down in the lab.” A corner of his mouth lifted in a mischievous grin, and he narrowed an eye. “One of the technicians owes me a favor, and promised me he’d put Gus at the top of the list.” He downed a gulp of soda. “We oughta know something by end of business today.”

“I don’t know why I’m in such a hurry to know,” Patrice admitted.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” she began haltingly, “I have this horrible sinking feeling that it won’t be good news.”

Leaning forward, he chucked her chin. “Aw, now, where’s my positive-thinking Patrice?”

Your
Patrice?

“Whatever it is,” Wade said, patting her hand, “we’ve probably caught it early.”

“If you had to guess, what would you say is causing his fevers?”

His expression went immediately from friendly to professional. “I’d rather not guess,” he said, his tone all business.

Nodding, Patrice said, “I understand.”

“Good grief,” interrupted a deep voice, “why do you two look so glum?”

Wade sat back and gave the man an uncomfortable smile. “Adam, hey.”

Plopping a hand on Wade’s shoulder, he gave it a brotherly shake. “Where do you find all these good-lookin’ ladies!”

Shaking his head, Wade grinned. “Patrice McKenzie, this is Adam Thorne, my business partner and all-round pain in the neck.”

Adam shook Patrice’s hand. “Don’t let him pull the wool over your eyes,” he told her, winking. “He needs me like a baby needs his mama—my main purpose in his life is to keep him humble—”

“Yeah, well,” Wade interrupted, chuckling, “you do a stellar job at that!”

“So,” Adam said, glancing at Mort, “at long last, I meet the Monkey Lady, face to face.”

Patrice looked from Adam to Wade, then back again. “You’ve heard about me?”

“Everybody around here has heard of you.”

“Good things, I hope.”

“Nothin’ but! I once heard a nurse say that watching you work is like seeing a rainbow after a thunderstorm. Now, I’ve never had the pleasure of watching you do your magic, but your reputation precedes you.” He glanced at Wade. “And since you somehow managed to tame
this
monster, I’m inclined to agree.”

She said a quiet prayer of thanks when Adam and Wade discussed some sort of office business. While they talked, her mind replayed Adam’s last comment.
Tame
Wade? To do that, wouldn’t she first have to capture him?

Patrice’s heart beat faster as she watched them. It was plain they’d been friends, close friends, for a long time. Had Wade maybe said something to his partner about her—something to indicate his feelings went deeper than “relative of a patient”?

She recalled their last kiss, and even now, the memory warmed her right down to her toes.
That
certainly hadn’t been evidence of a professional relationship!

“…do you say, Monkey Lady?”

She hadn’t heard a word Adam said to her. “I—I’m sorry. You…were saying?”

Chuckling, Adam began again. “I was just wondering if maybe I could borrow you sometime. I have a feeling you and your li’l pal there could do as much good for some of my adult patients as you’ve done at the Child Services Center.”

She looked at Mort, too, slumped in the corner of the booth, smiling his ever-pleasant monkey smile. “I—I don’t know. I’m not trained to—”

“Sleep on it, why don’t you, and get back to me. I
have a feeling you’d be very good therapy for patients of any age.”

She’d never considered using Mort with grown-ups. But maybe she should have…especially the terminally ill—

“You look surprised,” Adam said.

“I am, a little.”

“Well, it’s no wonder, if you’ve been hanging around with this old grouch.” He jabbed a thumb in Wade’s direction. “Way he feels about hospital volunteers, it’s a wonder he hasn’t scared ’em all away!”

Her gaze slid to Wade. “You don’t approve of volunteers?”

Adam laughed. “Uh-oh, I think I’ve opened a can of worms. That’s my cue to leave. See you in the a.m., Wade. And you,” he said, pointing at Patrice, “stop by the office sometime soon, so we can discuss which patients I think you oughta pay a visit to.”

She gave Adam a noncommittal smile. “Nice meeting you.”

“Ditto.” And with that, he was gone.

“He seems like a very nice man,” she told Wade.

He nodded. “He is. The best.”

“Known him long?”

“We practically grew up together.” He laughed. “Seems we spent our teenage years at his house or mine.”

“So you met in school?”

Another nod. “Yeah. In school.”

Why would he say “school” with that ominous note in his voice?

“So, let’s get back to this volunteer thing. I had no idea you didn’t approve of the hospital volunteer program.”

He frowned slightly. “It isn’t that I don’t approve, exactly….”

“What, exactly?” she pressed.

He shoved his plate away and folded his hands on the table. “Well, sometimes volunteers—” He shook his head. “I don’t know if I can explain it.”

“Aw, go ahead and try,” she coaxed, grinning.

He gave her a “you asked for it” look, then said, “They’re overzealous, for starters.” Brows knitted, he added, “And I can’t help but wonder about their motives. I mean, why would they spend their free time
here,
of all places? Do they do it so they can go home and brag to friends and family about their altruistic deeds? Do they come because when compared to the patients’ lives, their own seem better? What do they get out of it?”

She sat quietly for a few seconds, taking it all in. “For someone who didn’t think he could explain himself, you did a pretty good job!”

Chuckling, Wade shrugged. “Sorry if I didn’t say what you wanted to hear.”

“Oh, I don’t think you’re sorry at all.” She hesitated, then blurted, “But you have a right to your opinion—” she grinned “—even if it’s one hundred percent wrong.”

His brows rose again.

“You heard me right. Even the almighty doctors among us can be wrong.”

She stacked their plates and silverware on the blue plastic tray, then leaned forward. “I’ll have you know that volunteers are almost as necessary to patient care as the equipment and the meds and the personnel around here. I’ve seen children go from vulnerable, physically,
to being on the mend, just because a volunteer took the time to make them laugh or smile.

“I’ve seen kids who, one minute don’t seem to care if they live or die, start looking forward to getting well and going home the next. And it wasn’t
medicine
that made the difference—it was a volunteer.”

She punctuated her speech by jabbing her fingertip at the tabletop.

For a moment, Wade only looked at her. “And I’ve seen them come in here,” he began, “with head colds and stomach viruses, infecting my patients. I’ve seen them get people who oughta be resting quietly all riled up, sending their blood pressure skyrocketing and their pulse racing.”

Patrice sat back, crossed her arms and said quietly, “I wonder how you’d feel if I maligned your profession the way you’ve just maligned mine?”

He winced. “If that’s how I sounded, then I apologize.” Shaking his head, Wade fiddled with a corner of his napkin. “I’ll admit, I had a lot of negative opinions about volunteers before…before I met you.” He met her eyes to add, “But I saw what you did for Emily Kirkpatrick. A guy doesn’t need much more convincing than that.”