Luke (17 page)

Guy scooped up Susan, and with Faith holding her hand and Shelby leading the bewildered Frank, they followed the owner out of the main dining room. He took them into a room behind a beaded curtain. A huge papier-mâché dragon head peered down on them as they gently set down Susan on a pad.

She immediately started panting, and pulled her legs back as if to push. "I have to!" she cried when Faith tried to coax her into breathing again.

She was right, she had to, because when Faith checked, the baby was already crowning. The ambulance wasn't going to get here in time.

The baby came in less than four minutes.

The paramedics arrived in six.

Guy drove Frank to the hospital, Shelby went with Susan in the ambulance, and in all of the excitement, Faith ended up alone in the parking lot, in the pouring-down rain, realizing she was still starving.

In fact, her head was pounding, and her limbs felt a little shaky. She had that semi-queasy feeling she now recognized as low blood sugar but she didn't want to go back inside and eat alone. She could make it home.

Besides, she had to get used to being alone again.

She pulled out of the parking lot and was a little startled by how heavy the rain was, how slick the roads seemed. Dark had fallen, so she squinted through the windshield wipers that were furiously working to keep her vision clear.

Slow and easy, she told herself, and was thankful for the light traffic. Up ahead the light switched from red to green and she kept her foot on the accelerator. Then, unexpectedly, it turned red again. When she hit the brake, the car went into a slide, and her heart kicked up into her throat.

She passed through the crosswalk. Skidded, skidded … and finally stopped just over the line.

Gasping, she sagged back. She was okay.

Except she hadn't realized how badly her head hurt, or how shaky she really was. The lack of dinner combined with the candy bars from the night before really had gotten to her. She should have taken a sugar pill, which she kept with her in her purse for her low-sugar days. If she could pop one in her mouth now, within a minute she'd feel better, good enough to get home and feed herself. And if she managed that without killing herself on the road, she promised herself right there and then, in a solemn vow, she'd never, ever, screw up her diet again. Reaching for the passenger seat and her purse—

It wasn't there. She'd left her purse at the restaurant.

The light turned green, and she decided she was closer to home, that she'd call the restaurant when she got there to tell them she'd left her purse, and again hit the gas. The rain continued to hit the car hard, bouncing up off the trunk, so that she could hardly hear herself think. The swish, swish of the windshield wipers added to the mix, joining the pounding in her head.

God, she was so very tired, but finally,
finally,
she pulled onto her street. She waited for the overwhelming relief, she was almost there, safe and sound no less, but it was all she could do to get the car into the driveway.

Shaking like a leaf, she turned off the engine—and put her forehead to the steering wheel. She just felt so … damn … tired…

Chapter 13

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L
uke drove home from his late meeting on autopilot. In his driveway, engine still running, windshield wipers whisking away the drumming rain as fast as it hit the window, he stared out into the night at his house.

It was dark. Probably cold.

No doubt Carmen had the entire place clean as a whistle, but the warm, sweet touches of a real home wouldn't be there. They never had been. There were no flowers on the table, freshly picked from the yard, with specific scents for specific needs. There was no fresh tea brewing that would act as a soother, an antibiotic or a mood lifter. There would be no pink toothbrush with a smiley face on the handle sitting on the bathroom counter next to a wide and baffling array of pots and bottles, all of which would smell like Faith.

Mesmerized by the movement from the windshield wipers and the headlights reflecting off the windows of the front of his house, all of which were dark with no life behind them, he let out a long sigh.

He felt … strange. As if he was searching for something in his life, something just out of reach. He couldn't go on without this … this thing, and he couldn't quite figure out what it was.

No, wait. That wasn't true. It wasn't a thing he was missing, but a person. A small, curvy, beautiful redheaded person nearly as stubborn as himself, and that was quite a feat, as he was pretty damn stubborn.

Faith.

With her name on his lips, he suddenly knew what it was. He'd fallen in love with her. And damn it, instead of facing that, instead of telling her, he'd tried to ignore it, tried to let it pass. After all, he had work, he had a meeting, he had … nothing, absolutely nothing as important as this.

Since when did he take the easy way out? Never. And he wasn't going to now either. Shoving the car in reverse, he craned his neck around and maneuvered himself out of the driveway and back into the dark, stormy night.

This wouldn't—couldn't—wait, and though it was nearly one in the morning, and the roads were a mess, he drove toward Faith's house. Not wanting to scare her with a knock this late, he grabbed his cell phone to call ahead and warn her. He was coming over, and they were going to face this.

But unbelievably, she didn't answer. He stared down at his cell phone, but he'd dialed correctly.

So … where was she? Had someone come to the clinic late, needing assistance? Yeah, that was probably it, and he sped up a little, hating the thought of her alone in that place with someone she didn't know. She thought she was invincible, that since all she wanted to do was help people, no one would hurt her.

Unsettled, he pulled into the driveway, right behind her car. Her headlights were still on, and so were the windshield wipers, which had him all the more worried. Her car was stilling running and it'd been parked at an odd angle, as if she'd been so exhausted—

Then he saw the dark figure slumped over the wheel and his heart jerked to a halt. Racing through the rain, he whipped open her car door. "Faith," he said hoarsely, and hunkered beside her, ignoring the rain deluging him, running down his face, soaking into his clothes. With one hand on her body, which was warm enough at least, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed 9-1-1 for an ambulance.

She lifted her head, and through her streaming hair, blinked at him. "Luke?"

"Just me." He finished with dispatch, pocketed the phone and took a deep breath to steady himself. He was a doctor, a damned good one, so there was no logical reason for all his medical training to fly out the window simply because the woman he'd fallen in love with was in her car in a semiconscious state, confused, and looking like death warmed over. "You passed out, do you remember?"

She closed her eyes and put a hand to her head. "I'm fine now, if you'll just move, I could get out."

Right. And she'd crumple to the ground. "You're slurring your words," he said as calmly as he could. "You've bottomed out, haven't you."

"What?"

"Your blood sugar."

"No … I…" She set her head back against the headrest and kept her eyes closed. "Maybe."

With every four-letter word in the book running through his head, he put his fingers over the pulse at her wrist. Thready. Her skin was clammy, and beneath his fingers he could feel her trembling. Damn it. "Where the hell is your purse?"

"I left it in the restaurant by accident."

He shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled out his Tic Tacs. Not exactly a sugar pill, but better than nothing. Shaking two into his hand, he held them up to her mouth.

Her tongue touched the palm of his hand and he felt the most irresponsible, inappropriate surge of lust, which added to his anger. "You didn't eat dinner?"

"I—"

"You ignored all the signs and just kept going? Is that it?"

"Well—"

"What, you think you're the Energizer Bunny? Christ, Faith, you have to listen to your body."

"I know, I—"

"Be quiet." He carried her to the door of the clinic, wanting her inside until the ambulance came, so mad
he
was now shaking.

"The keys are still in the car," she said when they were both looking at the front door.

He set her down, ran to get the keys, then raced back. He might have lit into her again, but she was leaning against the door looking tired and dejected and so pathetic he didn't have the heart for it.

Besides, he'd come for another reason entirely, and looking at her now, into her eyes that she thought hid so much and yet showed him everything, he melted all over again. "Faith…"

"Could you unlock the door?" she asked quietly. "And then I swear, I'll go in and eat. I've already had my epiphany, Luke, so you don't need to waste your night yelling at me. I promised myself in that car I would never, ever, let my blood sugar get so low again, that I would eat far more regularly, that my health has to come first."

He unlocked the door and she moved inside, then turned to face him with a wan smile. "Thank you."

And then, unbelievably, she started to shut the door. In his face.

"Faith."

Her eyes met his, reluctantly, he thought. His own fault. "Aren't you in the least bit curious as to why I'm here at one in the morning?"

Her eyes widened. "It's that late?"

He put his foot in the door in case she decided she didn't want to hear this and tried to shut it. She was a healer, she wouldn't want to break his foot. "I had a reason for coming here."

"You mean before you started yelling at me?" With a little moan, she held her head. "Damn it."

"Sit down before you fall down," he demanded, terrified all over again. He pushed her into a chair. Charged to the staff refrigerator and pulled out juice and some sliced cheese. He shoved them at her, not relaxing until she bit into the cheese. He could hear the siren of the ambulance now, and Faith let out a frustrated sound so devoid of any real temper he got even more unnerved. "You're going to the hospital."

"I'm not going anywhere," she said. "I'll be fine once I've eaten and—"

"You're going and I'm going to run the tests myself."

"I'm not going, Luke." Her eyes were still closed, and she still hadn't moved a muscle.

He lifted her into his arms.

"I'm feeling fine now … Luke—"

"You didn't give your body rest, you didn't eat right."

"Yes,
but I—"

"You work in a self-healing clinic, and you don't even use the techniques on yourself?"

"I told you, I—"

"Yes, tell me. What the hell is that about?"

"Well, you're a fine one to talk!" Feeling much better from the candy he'd given her, even if it was only a temporary fix, Faith poked him in the chest with a finger. "You work shifts just as long as I do, you ignore all of your own needs for your patients, you—"

"If I had a disease to take care of, I promise you, I sure as hell would!"

"Really? Well…"

"Well, what?" Luke demanded, nose to nose with her. Thunder boomed and neither of them jumped. "You don't have anything to say, do you?"

"I do so, I—" She frowned.

"Oh,
now
you're going to be quiet?"

She crossed her arms, the picture of an irritated woman. "I'm done yelling at you—this is stupid."

"Really?" He put his wet nose to hers. "Try this for stupid. I came here to tell you something, something rather important actually, and I find you slumped over the wheel looking like death warmed over. You scared the hell out of me, damn it."

"I didn't mean to, but God, Luke, you're just so bossy."

"Bossy?"
He nearly choked over the word.

"And then I thought I was never going to see you again, and—"

"Wait a minute. Back the damn train up. You were the one who said you didn't want this to continue after
my three months—"

"And do you think I don't know that?"

His head was spinning, spinning away, she drove him that crazy.

"Luke, damn it, I—"

"Love you,"
they both shouted at the same time. Then blinked. Stared at each other.

Lightning flashed.

The ambulance pulled up. Two medics hopped out and peered into the clinic. Both of them recognized Luke, who held up a hand, signaling they needed a moment.

"What?" Luke asked her hoarsely, stepping close. "What did you just say?"

"The same thing as you, I think." Very carefully, very purposely, Faith set her head down on his chest. She needed the support. Taking a peek, she saw Luke's eyes, which had been dark with fear and anger and a whole host of things only a moment ago, were now wide with shock.

Much, she imagined, the way hers were.

He loved her. Was it really possible?

As if he was the weak one now, he stumbled back, and tugging her with him, sat down hard on a chair.

Faith landed in his lap.

The medics started forward, but Luke glared at them until they both retreated back a few steps. "Faith?"

"Yes?"

"Let's try that again, but you go first this time."

"Oh no," she said demurely, her heart light for the first time in weeks.
Months.
Since the first time he'd walked through her door, as a matter of fact. "You came out in the middle of the night to talk to me. The least I can do is let you go first."

His hair was slicked close to his head, and he blinked rainwater out of his eyes as he stared down at her. "You're messing with my head, right?"

She was, and upon closer inspection of his fierce expression, she nearly melted, for he had stark fear lingering behind his eyes, fear she'd put there. "I'm sorry I drive you so crazy, Luke. I promise I'll never take risks with my health again if you promise to give us everything you give your patients."

"I didn't know you wanted me to give us anything," he said very quietly.

"I know, and that's partly my fault, too, because I didn't tell you how I feel."

"But you're going to tell me now."