“Living with Parker?”
“Nope. The fact that this is the last day there will be two Dr. McGuires working at Columbia Memorial. No more mixed-up messages or calls.”
“That’s right. From now on, I’ll be Dr. Harrison.” She wrinkled her nose a bit. “Doesn’t have the same ring to it, does it?”
“Sounds great to me.”
“Me, too,” she admitted, looking into her wineglass and smiling at the clear liquid within. “Me, too.”
She felt a light tap on her shoulder and looked up. Her father was standing behind her chair. A tall, rotund man, he was dressed in his best suit, and a sad smile curved his lips. “How about a dance with my favorite girl?” he asked.
“You’ve got it,” she said, pushing back her chair and taking his hand. “But after that, I’m going home.”
“Tired?”
“Uh-huh, and I want to look my best tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll be the prettiest bride ever to walk down that aisle.”
“The wedding’s going to be in the rose garden, remember?” She laughed, and her father’s face pulled together.
“I don’t suppose I can talk you into saying your vows in front of the altar?”
“Nope. Outside,” she said, glancing out the window into the dark night. Rain shimmered on the windowpanes. “I don’t care if this blasted rain keeps falling, we’re going to be married under the arbor in the rose garden of the church.”
“You always were stubborn,” he muttered, twirling her around the floor. “Just like your mother.”
“Some people say I’m a chip off the old block, and they aren’t talking about Mom.”
Malcolm McGuire laughed as he waltzed his daughter around the room. “I know this is the eleventh hour, but sometimes I wonder if you’re rushing things a bit. You haven’t known Parker all that long.”
“Too late, Dad. If you wanted to talk me out of this, you shouldn’t have waited this long,” she pointed out.
“Don’t get me wrong; I like Parker.”
“Good, because you’re stuck with him as a son-in-law.”
“I just hope you’re not taking on too much,” he said thoughtfully. “You’re barely out of med school and you have a new practice. Now you’re taking on the responsibilities of becoming a wife—”
“And a mother?” she teased.
Malcolm’s eyebrows quirked. “I know you want children, but that can come later.”
“I’m already twenty-eight!”
“That’s not ancient, Shawna. You and Parker, you’re both young.”
“And in love. So quit worrying,” she admonished with a fond grin. “I’m a big girl now. I can take care of myself. And if I can’t, Parker will.”
“He’d better,” her father said, winking broadly. “Or he’ll have to answer to me!”
When the strains of the waltz drifted away, he patted Shawna’s arm and escorted her back to her chair. He glanced around the room as she slipped her arms through the sleeves of her coat. “So where is that husband-to-be of yours? Don’t tell me he already skipped out.”
“Very funny.” She lifted her hair out of the collar of her raincoat and said, “He took Brad Lomax home a little earlier. But don’t worry, Dad, he’ll be there tomorrow. I’ll see you then.”
Tucking her purse under her arm, she hurried down the stairs, unwilling to wait for the elevator. On the first floor, she dashed through the lobby of the old Victorian hotel, and shouldered open the heavy wood door.
The rain was coming down in sheets and thunder rumbled through the sky. Just a summer storm, she told herself, nothing to worry about. Everything will be clean and fresh tomorrow and the roses in the garden will still have dewy drops of moisture on their petals. It will be perfect! Nothing will ruin the wedding. Nothing can.
C
HAPTER
2
Shawna stared at her reflection as her mother adjusted the cream-colored lace of her veil. “How’s that?” Doris McGuire asked as she met her daughter’s gaze in the mirror.
“Fine, Mom. Really—” But Shawna’s forehead was drawn into creases and her green eyes were dark with worry.
Where was Parker?
Doris stepped back to take a better look and Shawna saw herself as her mother did. Ivory lace stood high on her throat, and creamy silk billowed softly from a tucked-in waist to a long train that was now slung over her arm. Wisps of honey-colored hair peeked from beneath her veil. The vision was complete, except for her clouded gaze. “Parker isn’t here yet?” Shawna asked.
“Relax. Jake said he’d let us know the minute he arrived.” She smoothed a crease from her dress and forced a smile.
“But he was supposed to meet with Reverend Smith half an hour ago.”
Doris waved aside Shawna’s worries. “Maybe he got caught in traffic. You know how bad it’s been ever since the storm last night. Parker will be here. Just you wait. Before you know it, you’ll be Mrs. Parker Harrison and Caribbean-bound.”
“I hope so,” Shawna said, telling herself not to worry. So Parker was a few minutes late; certainly that wasn’t something to be alarmed about. Or was it? Parker had never been late once in the six weeks she’d known him.
Glancing through the window to the gray day beyond, Shawna watched the yellow ribbons woven into the white slats of the arbor in the church garden. They danced wildly over the roses of the outdoor altar as heavy purple clouds stole silently across the sky.
Doris checked her watch and sighed. “We still have time to move the ceremony inside,” she said quietly. “I’m sure none of the guests would mind.”
“No!” Shawna shook her head and her veil threatened to come loose. She heard the harsh sound of her voice and saw her mother stiffen. “Look, Mom, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.”
“It’s okay—just the wedding-day jitters. But try to calm down,” her mother suggested, touching her arm. “Parker will be here soon.” But Doris’s voice faltered and Shawna saw the concern etched in the corner of her mother’s mouth.
“I hope you’re right,” she whispered, unconvinced. The first drops of rain fell from the sky and ran down the windowpanes. Glancing again out the window to the parking lot, Shawna hoped to see Parker’s red Jeep wheel into the lot. Instead, she saw Jake drive up, water splashing from under the wheels of his car as he ground to a stop.
“Where did Jake go?” she asked. “I thought he was in the rose garden ...” Her voice drifted off as she watched her brother dash through the guests who were moving into the church.
“Shawna!” Jake’s voice boomed through the door and he pounded on the wood panels. “Shawna!”
The ghost of fear swept over her.
“For God’s sake, come in,” Doris said, opening the door.
Jake burst into the room. His hair was wet, plastered to his head, his tuxedo was rumpled, and his face was colorless. “I just heard—there was an accident last night.”
“An accident?” Shawna repeated, seeing the horror in his gaze. “No—”
“Parker and Brad were in a terrible crash. They weren’t found until a few hours ago. Right now they’re at Mercy Hospital—”
“There must be some mistake!” Shawna cried, her entire world falling apart. Parker couldn’t be hurt! Just yesterday they were at the fair, laughing, kissing, touching ...
“No mistake.”
“Jake—” Doris reproached, but Jake was at Shawna’s side, taking hold of her arm, as if he were afraid she would swoon.
“It’s serious, sis.”
Disbelieving, Shawna pinned him with wide eyes. “If this is true—”
“Damn it, Shawna, do you think I’d run in here with this kind of a story if I hadn’t checked it out?” he asked, his voice cracking.
The last of her hopes fled and she clung to him, curling her fingers over his arm as fear grew in her heart. “Why didn’t anyone tell me? I’m a doctor, for God’s sake—”
“But not at Mercy Hospital. No one there knew who he was.”
“But he’s famous—”
“It didn’t matter,” Jake said soberly. His eyes told it all and for the first time Shawna realized that Parker, her beloved Parker, might die.
“Oh, my God,” she whispered, wanting to fall to pieces, but not giving in to the horror that was coldly starting to grip her, wrenching at her insides. “I’ve got to go to him!”
“But you can’t,” her mother protested weakly. “Not now—”
“Of course I can!” Flinging off her veil, she gathered her skirts and ran to the side door of the church.
“Wait, Shawna!” Jake called after her, running to catch up. “I’ll drive you—”
But she didn’t listen. She found her purse with the car keys, jumped into her little hatchback, and plunged the keys into the ignition. The car roared to life. Shawna rammed it into gear and tore out of the parking lot, the car wheels screeching around the curves as she entered the highway. She drove wildly, her every thought centered on Parker as she prayed that he was still alive.
Jake hadn’t said it, but it had been written in his eyes.
Parker might die!
“Please, God, no,” she whispered, her voice faltering, her chin thrust forward in determination. “You can’t let him die! You can’t!”
She shifted down, rounding a curve and nearly swerving out of her lane as the car climbed a steep street. Fir trees and church spires, skyscrapers and sharp ravines, a view of the Willamette River and the hazy mountains beyond were lost to her in a blur of rainwashed streets and fear.
Twice her car slid on the slick pavement but she finally drove into the parking lot of the hospital and ignored a sign reserving the first spot she saw for staff members. Her heart hammering with dread, she cut the engine, yanked on the brake and ran toward the glass doors, oblivious to the fact that her dress was dragging through mud puddles and grime.
As she ran to the desk in the emergency room, she wiped the water from her face. “I need to see Parker Harrison,” she said breathlessly to a calm-looking young woman at the desk. “I’m Dr. McGuire, Columbia Memorial Hospital.” Flashing credentials in the surprised woman’s face, she didn’t wait for a response. “I’m also Mr. Harrison’s personal physician. He was brought in here early this morning and I have to see him!”
“He’s in surgery now—”
“Surgery!” Shawna said, incredulous. “Who’s the doctor in charge?”
“Dr. Lowery.”
“Then let me see Lowery.” Shawna’s eyes glittered with authority and determination, though inside she was dying. She knew her requests were unreasonable, against all hospital procedures, but she didn’t care. Parker was in this hospital, somewhere, possibly fighting for his life, and come hell or high water, she was going to see him!
“You’ll have to wait,” the nurse said, glancing at Shawna’s wet hair, her bedraggled wedding dress, the fire in her gaze.
“I want to see him. Now.”
“I’m sorry, Dr. McGuire. If you’d like, you could wait in the doctors’ lounge and I’ll tell Dr. Lowery you’re here.”
Seeing no other option, Shawna clamped her teeth together. “Then, please, tell me how serious he is. Exactly what are his injuries? How serious?”
“I can’t give out that information.”
Shawna didn’t move. Her gaze was fixed on the smaller woman’s face. “Then have someone who can give it out find me.”
“If you’ll wait.”
Swallowing back the urge to shake information out of the young woman, Shawna exhaled a deep breath and tried to get a grip on her self-control. “Okay—but, please, send someone up to the lounge. I need to know about him, as his physician and as his fiancée.”
The young nurse’s face softened. “You were waiting for him, weren’t you?” she asked quietly, as she glanced again at Shawna’s soiled silk gown.
“Yes,” Shawna admitted, her throat suddenly tight and tears springing to her eyes. She reached across the counter, took the nurse’s hand in her own. “You understand—I have to see him.”
“I’ll send someone up as soon as I can,” the girl promised.
“Thank you.” Releasing her grip, Shawna suddenly felt the eyes of everyone in the waiting room boring into her back. For the first time she noticed the group of people assembled on the molded-plastic couches as they waited to be examined. Small children whined and cuddled against their mothers and older people, faces set and white, sat stiffly in the chairs, their eyes taking in Shawna’s disheveled appearance.
Turning back to the young nurse, she forced her voice to remain steady. “Please, I want to know if there’s any change in his condition.”
Whatever that is,
she added silently.
“Will do, Dr. McGuire. The doctors’ lounge is just to the left of the elevator on the second floor.”
“Thank you,” Shawna said, scooping up her skirts and squaring her shoulders as she started down the hall. The heels of her soaked satin pumps clicked on the tile floor.
“Shawna! Wait!” Jake’s voice echoed through the corridor. In a few swift strides he was next to her, oblivious to the eyes of all the people in the waiting room. Still dressed in his tuxedo, his wet hair curling around his face, he looked as frantic as she felt. “What did you find out?” he asked softly.
“Not much. I’m on my way to the lounge on the second floor. Supposedly they’ll send someone up to give me the news.”
“If not, I’ll check around—I’ve got connections here,” Jake reminded her, glancing at all the pairs of interested eyes.
“You what?”
“Sometimes I consult here, at Mercy, in the psychiatric wing. I know quite a few of the staff. Come on,” he urged, taking her elbow and propelling her toward the elevators. “You can change in the women’s washroom on the second floor.”
“Change?” she asked, realizing for the first time that he was carrying her smallest nylon suitcase, one of the suitcases she’d packed for her honeymoon. Numb inside, she took the suitcase from his outstretched hand. “Thanks,” she murmured. “I owe you one.”
“One of many. I’ll add it to your list,” he said, but the joke fell flat. “Look, Mom went through that,” he gestured at the bag, “and thought you could find something more suitable than what you’re wearing.” Frowning, he touched her dirty gown.
The sympathy in Jake’s eyes reached out to her and she felt suddenly weak. Her throat was hot, burning with tears she couldn’t shed. “Oh, Jake. Why is this happening?” she asked, just as the elevator doors whispered open and they stepped inside.
“I wish I knew.”
“I just want to know that Parker will be all right.”
“I’ll find out,” he promised as the elevator groaned to a stop and Shawna stepped onto the second floor. Pushing a button on the control panel, Jake held the doors open and pointed down the hallway. “The lounge is right there, around the corner, and the washroom—I don’t know where
that
is, but it must be nearby. I’ll meet you back in the lounge as soon as I find Tom Handleman—he’s usually in charge of ER—and then I’ll be back to fill you in.”
“Thanks,” she whispered. The brackets around Jake’s mouth deepened as he grimaced. “Let’s just hope Parker and Brad are okay.”
“They will be! They have to be!”
“I hope so. For your sake.”
Then he was gone and Shawna, despite the fact that she was shaking from head to foot, found the washroom. Trying to calm herself, she sluiced cold water over her face and hardly recognized her reflection in the mirror over the sink. Two hours before she’d been a beaming bride, primping in front of a full-length mirror. Now, she looked as if she’d aged ten years. Eyes red, mouth surrounded by lines of strain, skin pale, she stripped off her wedding dress, unable to wear it another minute. Then she changed into a pair of white slacks, a cotton sweater, and a pair of running shoes, the clothes she had thought she would wear while holding hands with Parker and running along the gleaming white beach at Martinique.
Parker.
Her heart wrenched painfully.
Quickly folding her dress as best she could and stuffing it into the little bag, she told herself to be strong and professional. Parker would be all right. He had to be.
Quickly, she found the lounge. With trembling hands, she poured herself a cup of coffee. Groups of doctors and nurses were clustered at round tables chattering, laughing, not seeming to care that Parker, her Parker, was somewhere in this labyrinthine building clinging to his very life. Forcing herself to remain calm, she took a chair in a corner near a planter filled with spiky leafed greenery. From there she could watch the door.
Doctors came and went, some with two days’ growth of beard and red-rimmed eyes, others in crisply pressed lab coats and bright smiles. Each time the door opened, Shawna’s gaze froze expectantly on the doorway, hoping that Jake would come barging into the room to tell her the entire nightmare was a hellish mistake; that Parker was fine; that nothing had changed; that later this afternoon they would step on a plane bound for white sand, hot sun, and aquamarine water ...