Sophie's Path (5 page)

“I'm sure you do.” Sophie smiled. “I'll help you get dressed.”

Jack threw his hands up. “No thanks! I think you've seen enough. Who knows what you checked out while I was sleeping.”

“Mr. Carter, I'm a nurse. It's my job. I stayed with you most of the night to make sure you didn't slip into a coma.”

“Coma?” His eyes widened as much as they could with stitches and swelling. “You guys were afraid I would fall into a coma?”

“We had to take precautions, yes. Several times you, er, fell asleep on us.”

“Passed out. I remember,” he said, touching his forehead and wincing. He patted the dressings around his eyes then made a face. “I bit my cheeks, as well.” He hugged himself, his muscular arms flexing.

Sophie dragged her eyes off his battered face. She was drawn to his vulnerability. She'd always prided herself on her professional yet empathetic care, but something about this man made her heart ache more than usual. She glanced at the papers in her hand. “You'll need plenty of rest once you get home. You should tell your wife—”

“I'm not married,” he interrupted.

She looked at him. She knew that. Nate had told Sophie who Jack was. When Sophie had asked him earlier if he wanted her to call Katia, he'd refused. Katia and Austin were out of town for the weekend. No girlfriend had come to see him last night. His emergency contact was his sister, Ava, but she lived in Illinois and Jack told Sophie he'd make his own phone calls when he was up to it. He hadn't asked for anyone but Aleah. Jack had been so confused and out of it, and Sophie knew from experience that victims sometimes couldn't even remember their own names. She had to be sure.

But why, Sophie?

Habit. That's all it was. Her reaction to Jack was habit. She'd been a man magnet for so long, she didn't know how to meet an attractive man on any other basis.

Ugh
. She had a real problem.

“Well, someone needs to see you through the next twenty-four hours to make absolutely certain there are no complications from the concussion. You'll need to see Dr. Hill in his regular hours to have the stitches removed. And we suggest that you see an ophthalmologist immediately about your eyes. You were asleep, but we had Dr. Mason come in and give you an exam. He'll see you Monday afternoon. The rest of your instructions are the usual. Hydrate. Eat properly. Get rest and no sports for two weeks.”

“What? No sports?”

Was he serious? Sophie cocked her head. “Is there a problem? Are you on a summer baseball league or something?”

“No, but I run. A lot. Every day. I can't live without running.”

She put her hands on her hips. “You have a sprained ankle. It won't let you run for at least ten days.”

“I can handle that. A week or so. Fine,” he harrumphed.

“So,” she probed, unable to stop herself. “Where do you run?”

“Around the lake. That's where I live. Running is my life.”

She shook her head emphatically. “You'll have to live without it for two weeks. In addition to the sprain, you could risk a second concussion. If you aren't fully healed from this first one, a second could increase the chances of swelling in the brain. Most concussions are not terribly dangerous, but a second one could be fatal.”

“Fatal?”

Sophie cringed, realizing the word would remind him of Aleah's death. But since she couldn't take it back, this was as good a time as any to test Dr. Hill's theory that it had been shock and irritability alone that had made Jack accuse Sophie of abandoning Aleah in favor of another—and in his opinion, less deserving—patient.

“A concussion sometimes takes months to heal. Our advice is that you take it easy the next few weeks to a month. Don't push. There will be plenty of time for running in the fall.”

Jack's eyes fell away from Sophie's face as he turned his head to the window. She followed his gaze to the fully leafed maple trees outside.

“A month would be torture,” he said quietly, as if accepting his defeat. “But I'll try.”

“Excellent.” She went to the closet and pulled out his ripped but wearable pants, shoes, socks and underwear. His tattered shirt she'd put in a plastic bag.

“Where's my sport jacket?” he asked.

“You didn't come in with it,” she replied.

His brows knit together and she could tell it was an effort for him to think and remember. “I put it in the backseat with Owen.”

“Mr. Carter, I need to make arrangements for your dismissal. You're not allowed to drive for the next week. Who should I call to come get you?”

Jack's eyelids drooped and he lowered his chin to his chest. “Don't tell me I can't drive. I have to drive. I have to work. I have to go to Aleah's funeral...”

Sophie let Jack take a moment with his thoughts before interrupting him. He was being forced by the circumstances to take a lot in. She truly felt for trauma victims and their families. One minute their lives were normal and made sense. In the flash of an exploding gas main, a head-on collision, a tornado, a drive-by shooting, an accidental overdose of prescription medication, a drowning... Their lives would never be the same. Jack Carter was still able to walk and talk and function. He hadn't lost a limb. He hadn't lost his eyesight. He hadn't lost his mind. He had to give up running and driving for a short time, but even though he groused, she knew that he'd be just fine. He'd cope. He had to.

But she knew he didn't see it that way. What harangued Jack was that Aleah had died. His young assistant wouldn't be in his office on Monday. He would meet with her family and he would go to the visitation. Then the funeral and burial.

Sophie understood that even though he'd have a full physical recovery, Jack's world would be forever altered.

She placed his shoes on the floor, turning them so he could slip his feet in more easily. Even this simple thing would be hard for the next little while.

It was her way of trying to say she was sorry about Aleah without admitting any guilt. The hospital was not at fault. Dr. Hill and Dr. Barzonni had both told her that no one was.

But Sophie knew that some part of Jack would always believe she had committed the gravest of errors.

He met her eyes as she straightened up. There was no spark, no hint of the flirtation she often found with men. There was only anger and blame.

“If you have no one to take you home, I'll drive you,” she said.

“I'll get a cab,” he huffed.

She ground her jaw and could feel her heels digging into the linoleum. “I'll drive you home and I will make sure you are inside the door safe and sound.”

“Forget it,” he said.

“Fine. Then I'll tell the staff you'll be staying here through the rest of the weekend.”

“You can't do that!”

“I can do anything I feel I need to do for the well-being of my patient,” she retorted.

Jack snorted and punched the bed. “Fine. But I'll dress myself.”

“Absolutely,” she chimed in. “I wouldn't want to do anything that made you uncomfortable.” She went to the curtains and pulled them around the track to give him privacy.

As she walked out, she heard Jack growl, “After this, I hope I never lay eyes on you again.”

CHAPTER FIVE

“T
HIS
IS
WHERE
you live?” Sophie peered through her windshield at the white three-story condo building tucked into a mass of oak, pine and maple trees on the northwest shore of Indian Lake. “I didn't know these were here. Looks like only four units,” she mused, thinking how much she'd love to live by the water. Wouldn't everybody? She leaned over the steering wheel to see the second-floor deck. Instead of a typical railing, twisted steel designed to resemble nautical ropes ran between white posts. “When you said the condos on the lake, I thought you meant those ugly brown monstrosities that look like a federal penitentiary. This is absolutely beautiful.”

“Thanks. Cate Sullivan found it and worked the deal for me.”

“Wow,” Sophie gushed, inspecting the private outdoor staircase that led down to the beach, a drive-in first-floor garage. The second story obviously held the main living space and on the third story were the bedrooms. She'd seen these floor plans all over the south end of Lake Michigan. She smiled as she saw a chimney wall, which could only mean a wood-burning fireplace.

She heard the seat belt alarm ping as Jack undid his belt.

“Well, thanks for the ride,” he said with a perfunctory nod.

Sophie spun to face him. “What do you think you're doing?”

“Leaving,” he replied, his tone so brittle she snapped her head back.

“Not without me.”

He glared at her. “I think I can make it on my own.”

She gave him a daring look. “Think so? Go for it.”

Jack snickered, got out and slammed the door. He stood perfectly still for a long moment and then leaned against the car.

Sophie had already unhooked her seat belt and opened her door in the time it took him to shut his. Before he could say a word, she raced over and wrapped her arm around his waist.

“I've got this,” he said.

“I see that.”

She walked him up to the garage door and he punched in his security code.

“Am I having a second concussion?” he asked.

“You've barely eaten since the accident. You're fine. Nothing that chicken parmesan and spaghetti wouldn't cure.”

Jack opened the door and wrestled away from Sophie's grasp. “I can make it.”

She glanced up the stairs. “Let me be the judge.”

Jack clung to the railing, but he managed to take the stairs at an almost normal pace.

Sophie followed him to the first-floor living area. It was completely open. Living, dining, kitchen and a small study co-existed under a high-pitched, beamed ceiling. A massive river rock fireplace filled the left wall. The wall facing the lake was entirely glass, and the view was stunning.

Sophie was struck by the emptiness of the place. There was hardly any furniture. In the study alcove was a desk, chair and computer. A printer and a small television set. There were no sofas, chairs, tables or lamps in the living room and no dining table. Just bar stools. The condo's kitchen was a cook's dream, with a six-burner gas stove, double convection ovens, dishwasher, a double-wide Sub-Zero refrigerator, a six-foot-tall wine cooler with glass doors and yards of granite countertop. However, except for an espresso machine and a commercial-grade juicer, there was nothing on the counters. No knickknacks, no canisters. It was as if he'd just moved in, but she didn't see packing boxes anywhere.

Obviously, Jack put all his energy into his business and his employees. He hadn't done much for himself at all. In that way, they were very much alike.

Jack lumbered over to one of the bar stools and sat down. He rubbed his injured ankle and then put his elbows on the tortoiseshell granite countertop. “So. I'm good. You can leave.”

Sophie stuck her hand on her hip. “I'm going as soon as you eat something.”

He shook his head. “Will this nightmare never end?”

Sophie went to the stainless steel Sub-Zero refrigerator and opened the door. The shelves were filled with carrots, turnips, kale, spinach, tomatoes, cucumbers, lemons, limes, apricots, peaches and berries. She saw almond milk, coconut milk, protein powder, protein shakes and an entire shelf of vitamins.

“You keep your vitamins in the fridge?”

He slid his arms across the counter and laid his head on them. “Just give me one of my power drinks.”

Sophie clucked her tongue as she pulled out a vanilla shake and popped the pull tab. She handed it to him. “There's no garlic in that refrigerator.”

“I don't like garlic,” he said, taking the drink and chugging it.

“What kind of guy doesn't like garlic? Every Italian dish my grandmother taught me has garlic. It's a food group all its own.”

He slammed the can down on the counter. “I don't like Italian food, either.”

Sophie cleared her throat. “I can see you'll be okay. Get some rest and don't forget your appointments on Monday.” She took her car keys out of her pocket and headed for the staircase.

Just as she reached the newel post, she looked back. He was staring at the counter and not at her. “Jack. I'm sorry about Aleah.”

Jack's face contorted with pain, anger and sorrow. “Please, Sophie. Just leave.”

She rushed down the stairs and out of the garage. As she started her car, she realized she was crying. Her tears flowed like a dam that had burst. From the moment the accident victims had been brought into the ER, Sophie had checked her emotions. She'd kept her mind on her work and the duties she needed to perform in the moment. She and the other team members lived in a bubble during events like that. There was no past and no future. Only the instant. A tiny fraction of time where souls were suspended between the life on earth and the world after this one. The decisions she made had been critical. And everlasting.

Was Jack right?

Had she made the wrong choice about Aleah? If she'd stayed with her, if they'd done tests or performed the thoracentesis sooner, would that have made a difference? Would they have gained another five or ten minutes that might have allowed the defibrillator to do its job?

Was Nate correct that Aleah was likely anorexic? Were her electrolytes to blame for her heart attack? Was it true that she'd never had a chance in the first place?

Sophie drove out of the wooded glen and back to the road that led to town. She turned left instead of right so she could drive around the lake. The lake helped her collect her thoughts. Often, after a particularly hard day of surgeries, if she couldn't run the lake trails, she would at least drive around it to clear her mind. The water, whether choppy or placid, gray or crystal blue calmed her. But not today.

Today, Sophie didn't feel much like giving thanks or praise. Her heart was as heavy as Jack Carter's. She wondered if one of the reasons he'd urged her to leave so quickly was because he wanted to drown himself in tears just as she was doing.

* * *

I
T
HAD
BEEN
two weeks since Aleah's death and today was the first day Sophie had felt like stepping beyond the boundaries of the hospital or her apartment.

She sat on a red-leather-and-chrome fifties-style stool at the lunch counter at Lou's Diner, sipping an iced tea while she waited for her lunch. She liked the former train car that had been turned into a retro diner years ago. In the next car over was The LTD, also run by Lou, which served gourmet meals that made Sophie drool just reading the menu. She'd only eaten in The LTD once. That was the night of her graduation, when she'd received her RN. Her father had been healthy then and her mother was electric with pride. Even her Italian grandmother, who spoke little English, agreed to eat in an American restaurant. It had been a hallmark day for the Mattuchi family.

Sophie tried to remember what dreams she'd had for herself then. Mostly, she'd just been happy to be done with finals and evaluations.

However, she must have had some ambition because she'd only worked for a year at Grand Rapids Hospital before she realized she wanted more. She'd decided to specialize in cardiac surgery. She went back to school to get her master's degree in nursing science and then she entered a highly competitive fellowship program to specialize in cardiovascular care. During her placement, she often felt she was only a half-step behind the heart surgeons she worked alongside. Until she returned home to Indian Lake. Once she started working with Nate Barzonni, she realized that there truly were gifted, intuitive talents in every field. Nate was a virtuoso. A genius. He could have written his own ticket to the country's top hospitals, but Nate had decided the fast lane was not for him. He spent nearly as much of his time working at a free clinic on an Indian reservation as he did in the high-tech ablation unit at Indian Lake Hospital.

Still, Sophie supposed that Nate's main reason for setting up shop in Indian Lake was Maddie Strong—now his wife. Sophie grimaced, remembering how she'd literally thrown herself at him when he'd first moved back to town. She had decided that to win Nate Barzonni, she'd attempt a makeover. Granted, her initial thoughts were veering down the right path because she'd needed to make changes. But she should have realized that her tactics had “disaster” written all over them.

Sophie had chopped off her hair and streaked it blond to look as much like Maddie Strong as possible, since Maddie had been Nate's type when they were in high school. She went on a diet and lost eight pounds. She bought new clothes and fell back on her old standby—flirting.

But Nate was a one-woman man and he'd chosen Maddie.

Rightfully so. Maddie was the best woman, a fact that Sophie had known all along.

The following spring, Sophie flung a bit of caution to the wind and—not coyly—made a pass at Nate's brother, Gabe. Gabe was very forthright and told her he just wasn't into her. Little did she know that a few months later he and Liz Crenshaw would be married. Frankly, at the time, she didn't think Gabe knew Liz at all. In fact, Sophie could almost claim that if it hadn't been for the Mattuchi family selling Gabe part of their vineyard, Gabe and Liz might never have gotten together at all. Now, they were expecting their first baby.

Yep, I learned my lesson all right
. It was time to get her act together. But in the right way.

A waitress dressed in a blue-and-white-striped uniform with a white pinafore apron delivered a cheeseburger and fries.

It had been over half a year since Sophie had ordered a meal that contained double the calories she now consumed each day. But she hadn't ever been responsible for someone dying on her watch before, either.

Two thousand calories? Who cared? Maybe she'd have apple pie à la mode for dessert.

She was just about to squirt mustard on the burger when she heard a woman's voice say her name.

“Sophie? Is that you?”

Sophie twisted around on the stool. Oh, no. It was Katia Stanislaus. The most gorgeous creature God ever built. Just looking at Katia's svelte figure, dressed in a gray linen sheath dress, matching gray pumps and some exotic designer purse Sophie guessed cost three times her car payment, caused her to clench her teeth. She glanced down at her burger and fries. She could already feel the lead they'd form in her belly. She plopped the bun down and wiped her fingers on the paper napkin.

“Katia! Hi!” Sophie wondered if she sounded cheerful enough.

Katia was several years older than Sophie, but Sophie remembered when Katia was named Indian Lake High School Homecoming Queen. Track Queen. Yearbook Queen, but not Prom Queen. Katia had left town abruptly right before prom. Katia was one of those women who grew more beautiful with the years. Sophie would have liked to blame her own hard work for the fine lines around her eyes that Katia didn't have. But Katia was a steamroller in the insurance business. She'd heard everyone from Maddie to Olivia Melton praise Katia's work ethic.

Katia glided right over to Sophie and sat on the stool next to her. She glanced at Sophie's lunch. “How's the iced tea?”

Sophie smiled wanly. She'd have to add merciful to Katia's attributes. “Good. Not as good as Olivia's raspberry herb tea at the deli.”

Katia laughed.

Her voice sounded like tinkling chimes. No wonder Austin McCreary melted when she blew into town last fall. What man could resist her?

Now that Katia was back in Indian Lake, amazingly, she and Sophie had become reacquainted. Actually, if it hadn't been for Katia, Sophie would probably still be apartment-hunting. Katia had been on the verge of vacating Mrs. Beabots's apartment in order to move into Austin's house while they planned the wedding, when Sophie overheard Maddie Barzonni and Sarah Bosworth at Cupcakes and Coffee discussing Mrs. Beabots's soon-to-be-vacant apartment.

Several years ago, right after Sophie moved back to Indian Lake from Grand Rapids, her father had been diagnosed with cancer and Sophie had moved into the family home near the Crenshaw Vineyard on the north of town to help her mother and grandmother. Sophie's salary had also paid off a large portion of her father's surgical and chemotherapy bills. The family had been deeply grateful, but once her father recovered, Sophie couldn't wait to be out on her own again.

Once she'd heard about Mrs. Beabots's apartment, Sophie knew if she didn't snatch the place that afternoon, she'd miss out. Indian Lake was not like any other town in the northern hemisphere. There was little to no new construction, no apartment buildings, very few condos and no place for young people to move to except their parents' basements. Until the town experienced an uptick in new business or manufacturing, residential construction would remain at a standstill.

Sophie was struck by how such an economic situation could affect the younger generations of Indian Lake. Unless they relocated far from home, it was as if they were all stuck in a vat of molasses. Fleetingly, she wondered if this inertia, this lack of “normal” growth into adulthood, had any effect on the rising drug problem in their town.