Surge (St. Martin Family Saga: Emergency Responders) Book 3: St. Martin Family Saga: Emergency Responders (17 page)

Read Surge (St. Martin Family Saga: Emergency Responders) Book 3: St. Martin Family Saga: Emergency Responders Online

Authors: Gina Watson

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Collections & Anthologies, #New Adult, #Contemporary, #Sagas, #General, #Suspense, #Family & Relationships, #Love & Romance

BOOK: Surge (St. Martin Family Saga: Emergency Responders) Book 3: St. Martin Family Saga: Emergency Responders
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“Hmm?”

“That gator—twelve footer, don’t you think?”

“I missed it.”

“How could you miss it? You’re staring at the TV.

Or was he staring through it? “My mind was somewhere else.”

Parker paused the television. “I think you mean
with
someone else.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Dude, I’m not gonna rat you out. Talk to me.”

Jackson exhaled through clenched teeth. “I love her, but sometimes love is not enough.”

“You know, it’s not exactly a secret. Whenever she’s around you’re only focused on her. She’s the same way. You guys are like those pesky love bugs that surge in the spring.”

Jackson smiled widely. They were exactly like those bugs that stayed connected for a long time before and after lovemaking.

“You’re right, though. Sometimes love is not enough. At least she loves you back. If Brook had returned my love I wouldn’t have let anything keep us apart.”

“Not even family?”

“Brook doesn’t have family. Or she didn’t. I guess she has the St. Martins now.”

“What I mean is if she’d had family and they opposed your relationship would you have pursued it knowing she’d have to make a choice?”

“If we’d loved one another we would have worked through it. Might have taken some time, but family is family. Once they realized the love was pure I think they’d come around.”

They finished eating and settled down for the night by playing a little Texas Hold’em.


As the weeks passed Jackson’s bruises and bones healed. However, his heart was another matter. He was still on medical leave from the station but he was determined to get a shift in at the hospital. He was suffering from a broken heart and sheer boredom. Two things that didn’t mix well especially when his heart had been full and his time had been limited before the accident.

He strolled into the emergency room dressed in scrubs and ready to tackle the evening when Nurse Higgins approached.

“Doctor Olivier, you still have two weeks of recovery left. I want you to take care of yourself.” Nurse Higgins ordered.

Jackson felt bad for not pulling his weight with his peers. No one said much of anything, but he knew how hectic their schedules were, even when fully staffed. He’d been given several independent study assignments to complete during his medical leave. “Nurse Higgins, I assure you I’m quite capable of performing my duties. Check it out, no cast.” He held his arm toward her for inspection.

She patted his back. “Dr. Olivier, I have no doubt about your capabilities. Never have. I want you healthy and happy and you’re still looking pekid. You need to take a vacation. But since you refuse to take care of yourself I’m prepared to see that you don’t return until you’ve been given a work release.”

“That’s a week from now.”

“Well, I guess you better go find something to do with yourself. I still have that timeshare in Florida. Strolling along the white sand beaches can clear a person’s mind.”

“Thank you, Nurse Higgins. I think I’ll just hang around here.”

“Let me know if you change your mind.”

“Will do.”

At least while he was here he would grab some journals to read while he lazed around the apartment. Making his way to his office he paused to check his mailbox.

On top of his desk he made a pile of things to take home. Looking around for a duffle bag his eyes landed on his prescription pad atop the table.

A chuckle emerged from his throat as he read.

“Clara.” He ripped the note from the pad and placed it in his pocket. As he stuffed the duffle with books and journals he scanned the room to ensure she hadn’t left any more tidbits.

In his mind a plan formed.

Chapter 19

Clara piled into
Eve’s new car. Excited, Eve took the driver’s seat with Clay beside her while Clara and Cookie occupied the backseat.

They headed home to the estate in Whiskey Cove where it seemed Dad was grilling up a side of beef from a cow he’d had butchered. Clara frowned at the thought. She knew how the food chain worked, but she’d rather be far removed from the process.

Before they left downtown Baton Rouge they stopped at Clay’s favorite sandwich place to grab lunch. Since they had Cookie someone had to stay in the car, but Clara didn’t mind. She could use the solitude.

“I’ll just wait here with Cookie.”

“You want a shrimp po’boy?” Clay asked.

“Yes, please.”

Eve left the car running so Clara and the dog wouldn’t suffocate in the oppressive heat. Bon Mange was a statewide favorite for po’boys and the place was packed. She knew they’d be in there for at least twenty minutes waiting for their to-go order. Bored, Clara scrolled through her email. She leaned into Cookie and the dog’s tongue swiped her neck and face at the exact time she depressed the camera button on her phone. She uploaded the picture to one of her social media accounts and added a caption
the new love in my life.

Glancing across the street Clara identified Jackson’s old Honda hatchback. Then she watched as he unfolded from the car. A sleek black BMW pulled in behind his car and a woman with long shapely legs, full hips and breasts, and long slinky black hair exited the vehicle. She wore tall black pumps that made her long legs even longer and more toned. Her pencil skirt hugged her hips as she slithered toward Jackson with sultry flair. The loose silk shirt she wore was low cut and she could imagine the view Jackson had as he stood several inches taller.

Clara’s jaw dropped as she watched them lean into one another for a hug. Jackson squeezed her upper arms in his hands. The beautiful woman raked her hands over his back. When they pulled apart she kissed his cheek.

They walked, his hand on the small of her back. She laughed at something he’d said and then he stopped in front of
Blue Fish House
and opened the door for her.


Blue Fish House
.” Clara whispered. That place had not been in their everyday budget—the sushi restaurant was
their
special hangout. They’d been there for the last two Valentine’s Days, once on her birthday, once on his.

Her world turned blue. She felt sick. She’d often wondered why he seemed to need her so intensely. When they’d made love he’d be inside of her for so long, holding himself back at times just to stay connected longer. It was extreme, but she didn’t mind. She reveled in it and she’d missed it. Some part of her needed that fierce connection, even if he no longer did.

Cookie emitted an impatient whine at Clara’s side before jumping into her lap. Smoky tears slid silently down her face. Did dogs prefer one mate to another? She didn’t think they did. And wouldn’t it be a perfect world if humans didn’t? Delirium had settled in. Was she actively contemplating the positive aspects of dog life?

The doors opened and Eve and Clay boarded the car. Clay removed his sunglasses and regarded her with a raised brow. “Clara?”

In that moment she hated him. What he’d said to Jackson that day had set the wrecking ball in motion.

“Clara, are you okay?”

“No, I’m pretty far from okay.”

“What’s wrong?” He seemed genuinely concerned and wasn’t that rich?

“What’s wrong is
you
.”

He shared a frown with Eve. “
You
are the reason I’m not happy.
You
are the reason Jackson broke up with me.
You
are the reason he’s with someone else. I think I hate you.”

Two sets of eyes stared at her. Three if she included Cookie’s. “Your macho bullshit speech to Jackson was the knife that sliced our relationship in two and now I have something to say to you.” She closed her eyes as tears threatened to fall, but then anger eviscerated the tears and she only felt white-hot rage.


You are dead to me
.”

“Clara, I had just found out about you and Jackson and was angry.”

“That doesn’t matter. You don’t say
that
to someone who considers you part of his only family. You pushed him away from me.”

“What did you think my response would be when you decided to tell me? He fucked you when you were sixteen!”

Eve and Clara winced at his harsh words and tone.

“He betrayed our family. Tell me, Clara, was the deed completed on your childhood bed, the pink one with the princess canopy?”

She opened the door and jumped from the car as fast as her feet would let her. She cried and wailed and then she thought she heard a bark. She was sure she heard it a second time. She turned to follow the sound just as a van struck Cookie. A yelp filled the air, followed by Cookie’s complete stillness. Clara ran to the van along with Clay and Eve. Clay bent down and picked up the dog. “His neck is broken.”


Eve held Cookie while Clay drove. Clara watched Eve as she cried, her tears trailing down her cheeks and chin to drop onto Cookie’s fur.

Clara cleared her throat. “Eve, I’m sorry.”

She just sniffed and cried some more as she stared down at the lifeless dog.

“I never wanted—”

“Enough, Clara,” Clay grumbled. “This thing with you and Jackson has hurt enough people. It’s over.”

They drove the rest of the way in silence to Whiskey Cove. The family referred to it as the estate
,
but her childhood home was much more than that. Whiskey Cove was where she felt peace and contentment. She knew she could always find her balance down the dusty roads that held all the answers to life’s questions.

Once Clay parked the car in front of the large home, Clara jumped out and ran toward the fields. Using the phone in her hand she punched up Cory’s number.

“Hey, sis.”

“Cory.” She couldn’t get out more than that before a huge wailing fit of tears hit.

“Clara? Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay, but Cookie is dead. And it’s my fault … I left the car door open and I … I don’t know. He followed me and then … and then … a van hit him. Eve’s devastated and I feel horrible.”

“I’m coming.”

“Okay.”

The open space cleared her mind. She knew Cory would come. His vet practice wasn’t very far from the estate. She walked out until she could no longer see the house. She stood at the highest peak of the property that expanded over several thousand acres. Walking toward the fence that Dancer had attempted to jump caused the scars on her back to tingle.

At first Clara thought the horse had gone mad or gotten spooked as she took off in an erratic canter and then a full gallop. Later she’d realized Dancer’s foot had been in a fire ant bed. The ants had viciously stung her hind legs. She’d bolted and attempted to jump a fence but her legs collided with a wire and Clara had been thrown from the horse. Her upper body landed along the rusted out balusters and rods of the iron fence. Clara’s feet were tangled in the stirrups as Dancer ran along the fence line. As a result, Clara’s back had been sliced open repeatedly on the jagged iron.

She’d passed out due to the trauma and loss of blood. Lucky for her, Jackson had been at the estate. If not for that one detail she would have bled to death right there on the ground she loved so much. The experience he’d gained as a paramedic and his training as a doctor had saved her from prolonged infection. While waiting for emergency transportation he’d treated her back, cleansing the area with saline, dressing what wounds could be dressed, and cutting away tissue that had been irreparably damaged. The surgeons said his diligent care had sped the healing process.

After that day when Jackson wasn’t in class or working he was by her side. They were close before, but they’d become inseparable. They were two beings that embodied one space. Love bug season took on an entirely new meaning. She’d often wondered about the bothersome pests that seemed to be connected on some evolutionary level. Turns out when the bugs mated they remained conjoined for several days afterward. The bugs just couldn’t bear to part.

Thunder rumbled in the background and dark gray clouds hung heavily in the sky. The metallic smell of rain hit her senses and she inhaled. She loved a rainstorm and today it certainly matched her mood.

She walked back toward the estate. The breeze picked up and was cooled by the cloud cover. She tried to imagine looking at the world through Jackson’s eyes—through the lens of complete and utter loneliness. She hoped he realized that he had family and friends, but deep inside she knew if they were to break up, things would never be like they were. She decided in that moment that she would not give up on their future together.

Inside she headed to the kitchen where Dad, Clay, Eve, and Mom were all seated around the breakfast table. Her body stiffened as they eyed her with purpose. She sat on the one remaining chair at the table.

“Eve, I’m sorry. Will you be able to forgive me?”

She grasped Clara’s hand. “It’s not you I blame.” She looked at Clay.

He pointed to his chest. “
Me
?”

“Don’t act so surprised. You’re too stubborn for your own good. If you would open your mind you’d be able to see the facts.”

“What facts?”

“Clara and Jackson have been together for two years and as I understand it were close several years before that. They love each other and want to get married. Clara’s living her life as an adult. She has an apartment and a job. You may not want her to grow up, but she has. I love you Clay, but you’re not her father and you’re the only one making such a huge spectacle. The man in question is not some drifter, it’s Jackson she’s chosen to share her life with. He’s a hard worker, he’s going to be a doctor, and they love each other. It could be much worse and I know you love Jackson. Instead of dictating how you want things to go you should listen when people tell you what they want.”

He stood and Dad’s laughter broke the tension as Clay huffed out to the backyard.

Eve worried her lip in her teeth. Clara felt bad once again for involving her. “Eve, I’m sorry you’ve been sucked into this.”

She shook her head. “It needed to be said.”

Mom placed a hand on each of them, “It did.”

Dad frowned.

Dark blue boxes with envelopes and cards cluttered the tabletop.

“What’s all this?”

“These are Jackson’s invitations.” Said Mom.

“Invitations?”

“For graduation. Help me address them, will you?”

Dad sipped his beer and said, “I can’t believe he’s already graduating.”

Clara lifted an invitation and ran her fingers across the embossed Rod of Asclepius symbol. She’d learned in philosophy the name for the medical symbol of a rod entwined with a serpent. Some Greek god and healer had wielded a similar cane and now it had become associated with healing.

 

The President, Faculty, and

Graduating Class of

Louisiana State University

School of Medicine

announce the graduation

of

Jackson Reid Olivier

with a

Doctorate of Emergency Medicine

on the seventeenth day of May

two thousand and fourteen

five o’clock in the evening

University Athletic Stadium

 

“What’s with all the prescription bottles?”

Her mother picked up a party invitation that looked more like a prescription for medication, rolled it, and stuck it in a bottle. “You put the invitation inside.”

Clara picked up an invitation and read:

 

Four out of five doctors recommend

You come celebrate with

Dr. Jackson Reid Olivier.

 

1001 St. Martin Estate

Whiskey Cove

Immediately following commencement exercises

 

“It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. You really have a knack for this, Mrs. St. Martin,” Eve said. She rolled another invitation into a bottle.

“Well, I can’t take all the credit. I saw it on the Pinterest. And when are you going to start calling me Cat?”

Dad grumbled and sipped his beer.

“Dad?” Clara studied his impenetrable gaze. “Did you not want to throw Jackson a party?”

Her mother jumped in before he could answer. “Of course he did. Jackson is part of the family and he’s celebrating a great accomplishment.”

Dad scratched his chin while Eve stuffed bottles as quickly as her fingers would allow. “I love that boy. I’m just still trying to come to terms with what he’s done.”


He
hasn’t done anything.
We
did it.” She sighed. “Are you mad at me?”

“I just don’t understand why you felt you had to deceive me. You should have told us two years ago.”

Her mother’s hand touched Dad’s arm. “Cliff, that’s enough.”

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