Wild Iris Ridge (Hope's Crossing) Read online

  “I know, because I’ve seen you with my kids,” he answered. “You love them and they adore you. I’ve let you stay with them and I would completely trust you to do it again. That’s about as ringing an endorsement as a guy like me can make. Relax. You’re going to be great with your sister, Lucy. You obviously care about her or you wouldn’t have agreed to do what your father asked. As far as I’m concerned, that’s half the battle when it comes to kids.”

  She drew in a breath and he could see some of the panic begin to fade. “Thanks. I appreciate you talking me down. I might need another pep talk before these two weeks are up.”

  “Anytime,” he murmured as the kids returned with Dermot—and he was shocked as hell to realize he meant the words.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  AS THEY WAITED for their food, Lucy talked and laughed with the children and tried to do her best to figure out why she felt as if in those brief moments of conversation, something significant had shifted between them.

  His words seemed to settle inside her, warming and calming her.

  I’ve seen you with my kids. You love them and they adore you. I’ve let you stay with them and I would completely trust you to do it again. That’s about as ringing an endorsement as a guy like me can make. Relax. You’re going to be great with your sister.

  Since he’d started dating Jessie so long ago, Brendan and Lucy’s relationship had been adversarial. She had been hurt and rejected that he had picked Jess over her, and those dark feelings had brewed inside her like a lurking infection, just waiting for a moment of weakness to growl to life.

  She hadn’t treated him well.

  She burned to think of some of the sly comments she had made to Jess about him when they were dating. It had been petty and small of her. At the time she’d justified it to herself—really, how could he possibly be any kind of decent guy if he would lock lips with Lucy one minute and start dating Jess seriously just a couple weeks later?

  She had figured he was a dog, just another athlete who liked to play around on and off the field, and at first she had been honestly concerned he would break Jess’s sweet, fragile heart.

  Even after Brendan and Jess had been dating for a year and he proposed, Lucy had continued her subtle campaign to undermine the relationship.

  After the wedding, she had forced herself to stop, realizing Jess had made her decision. They appeared to love each other, and Lucy knew she was hurting her cousin by so actively disliking her choice in a man.

  That didn’t stop her from being cool to Brendan on the phone or on her rare visits to Hope’s Crossing.

  Now, looking back, she was ashamed of herself. Okay, she had some hefty baggage that made it particularly difficult for her to cope with rejection. That was no excuse for letting her hurt get in the way of being a good friend to Jess and maybe becoming a friend to him, too.

  The more time she spent with him, the more she was coming to see beyond her old resentments.

  By all indications, he had been a good husband, a loving son, a devoted father. Just now, he and the children were playing I Spy, a game they had probably played a hundred times before at the café.

  She would like to be friends with him. Was that even possible, given their history?

  “I spy, with my little eye, something green. No wait. It’s yellow. No wait. Now it’s red,” Carter said.

  “It’s the stoplight, isn’t it?” Brendan guessed.

  Carter giggled. “Yes. How did you know?”

  “No fair!” Faith protested. “You can’t do things outside. We’ve told you that like a hundred times!”

  “Sorry. I keep forgetting.”

  The door to the café opened, and a family—handsome father, well-dressed mother and two teenagers—walked in.

  Her dinner companions had very different reactions to the new customers. She was almost certain she heard Brendan swear under his breath, but Carter gave a shout and Faith laughed softly.

  “I spy, with my little eye. Uncle Andrew and Aunt Erin and Ava and Josh.”

  His just-older brother, she realized.

  While she could see similarities between the two men, Andrew was much leaner than Brendan, with the slightly pale look of someone who spent most of his time behind a desk.

  The other Caines looked pleased to see Brendan and his children. Andrew’s wife—Erin, the children had called her—gave Lucy a surprised look before she quickly concealed it.

  She wanted to tell the woman they weren’t on a date, that this was a dinner invitation extended only out of polite expedience, but that would have been far too awkward. Better to keep her mouth shut and let his family members draw their own conclusions.

  “If I’d known you were coming to Pop’s tonight,” Andrew said, “I would have called you. We could have hogged one of the big tables in the back and eaten together. Better yet, we could have called Charlotte and Dylan and made a party of it.”

  “Like we don’t see enough of each other as it is,” Brendan muttered. “I can’t spray a fire hose in this town without hitting a blasted Caine.”

  “We’re everywhere, aren’t we?” Andrew said with a grin.

  He smiled expectantly at Lucy, and after a slight uncomfortable pause, Brendan nodded to her. “You remember Lucy Drake, Jessie’s cousin?”

  “Oh, yes! Sure. Good to see you again.”

  “Lucy, my brother Andrew, his lovely wife, Erin, and their kids, Ava and Josh.”

  “Hello.

  “How nice that you still stay in touch with Brendan and the children.” Erin gave her a warm, friendly smile, and she couldn’t help smiling back.

  “He doesn’t make it very easy, but I try.”

  Dermot came out of the kitchen and beamed with delight at more of his progeny. “What a happy day this is for me! More of my favorite people in one place.”

  They all hugged and kissed as if it were Thanksgiving dinner and they hadn’t seen each other since last year. She knew that wasn’t the case. The children had told her they gathered with the Caines every Sunday for dinner at Dermot’s house.

  What would it be like to be part of such a warm, boisterous family? Probably wonderful for the long-term but right now she was left feeling a little overwhelmed, not sure exactly how she fit in.

  She ended up retreating into herself a little, becoming an observer rather than a participant as she listened to their conversation about the teenage son’s baseball season prospects.

  “Get the Caines talking sports and we’ll never be able to eat,” Erin said after a moment. “Come on, guys. I’m sorry for the interruption.”

  “No problem,” Brendan said. “See you all later.”

  Dermot walked away with them, and the absence left a silence behind that was filled by a couple a few tables away, speaking louder than normal.

  “I’m fine, Judy,” the man said, which was an odd conversational gambit, she thought. “Stop fretting over me.”

  “You’re not fine,” Judy snapped back. “Why do you have to be so stubborn? I can tell you don’t feel well.”

  Lucy shifted her attention and saw the man didn’t look well. He appeared to be in his late fifties, balding, with an odd gray cast to his features. He was sweating, great droplets gathering on his forehead, despite the comfortable temperature in the café.

  “That was fun, seeing Aunt Erin and Uncle Andrew,” Faith said. “Don’t you think so, Dad?”

  “Sure. Great fun,” Brendan replied.

  “Hey, we should take a bike ride to their house sometime. It’s not very far, is it? Maybe only two miles.”

  “Less than that. Only about a mile. That would be great,” Brendan replied, just as the woman across the way grabbed her companion’s arm.

  “Come on, Martin. You’re scaring me. Let’s go back to the hotel where you can lie do
wn.”

  “Stop nagging,” he repeated, so loudly this time it drew even Brendan’s attention. The man stood up, staggered a little and fell over with a kind of gurgle, knocking his silverware to the floor with a loud clatter.

  “Martin!” the woman shrieked. Before she could even slide her chair out, Brendan was out of their booth and on the ground with the man.

  “What’s happening?” Carter asked.

  “I’m not sure, honey,” Lucy said as Brendan began trying to rouse the man.

  “Is that man dead?” he asked.

  “Be quiet, Car,” Faith said, looking stricken.

  “Come on, kids. Let’s go find your aunt and uncle.”

  She grabbed their hands and ushered them away from the dramatic scene, where Brendan was now undoing the man’s shirt and feeling for a pulse.

  They headed into the other part of the dining room, out of view of the action.

  “What’s going on?” Erin asked when she saw Lucy and the children.

  “I’m not sure. A man is having some kind of health issue. Brendan is helping him. Can Faith and Carter stay with you for a minute while I see if he needs help?”

  “Of course. Kids, slide over and make room.”

  Andrew rose and headed to the other area of the café, presumably to help, as well, while their teenagers did as their mother asked.

  “We were just about to play twenty questions!” Erin said. “Who wants to go first?”

  Lucy waited until she was sure they were settled then rushed back to Brendan’s side. She had been away for no more than sixty seconds but Brendan had started chest compressions, with competent, practiced motions.

  “I don’t know what happened,” the woman said. “He was just talking to me and then he fell over. What’s wrong with him?”

  “Does your husband have any history of heart disease?” Brendan asked between compressions.

  “His cholesterol is high and his blood pressure is a little bad. He’s been working on it. That’s all.”

  “What can I do?” Lucy asked.

  “Call 9-1-1,” he said without breaking rhythm.

  “On it,” Andrew said from nearby with his mobile to his ear.

  “Pop, you’ve still got that portable defibrillator, right? Where is it?”

  “Oh, my goodness. You’re right! I’ve had it ever since—well, for the last two years. I should have thought. It’s in the office. I’ll get it right away.”

  He raced from the room much faster than a man in his sixties should move and returned a moment later with what looked like a suitcase.

  Brendan turned to Lucy. “Any chance you know CPR?” he asked her.

  “Yes,” she answered. “I recertify every year.”

  She didn’t have to tell him why. Probably the same reason Dermot kept an AED—automated external defibrillator—in his restaurant. Because someone they all loved had died of a cardiac arrest.

  “I need you to handle the compressions while I set up the AED. Can you do that?”

  “I think so.”

  “Keep that beat, just like I’m doing. You know the drill, right? Think of the Bee Gees, ‘Stayin’ Alive.’”

  She had never done this on anything but a dummy, but she moved into position and took over from him, aware of the adrenaline pulsing through her. It was far different on a human, and she suddenly was reluctant to push hard enough to compress his rib cage. A man’s life was at stake, however, so she forced herself to get over her squeamishness.

  He stood watching for a second to make sure she had the correct rhythm then he opened the suitcase and turned on the machine.

  “Ma’am, does your husband have any implanted medical devices?” Brendan asked.

  “No. No, of course not.”

  “We need to get that necklace off him. Anything metal will conduct electricity.”

  He pulled off the small gold chain with the St. Christopher’s medal the man had been wearing.

  “Now, Lucy, I’m going to attach these paddles here, but I don’t want you to stop what you’re doing. You’re doing great. I’ll just work around your hands.”

  He spoke with such calm in the midst of the chaos that she took a deep breath and felt even more tension leave her shoulders.

  He grabbed a couple napkins and wiped at the man’s chest then attached two adhesive pads. The whole process took maybe thirty seconds in all.

  “Okay, now, on my signal, I want you to step away while the machine checks his heart rhythm.”

  She complied, hands in the air. He pushed a button on the AED and the machine gave a computerized voice prompt. Analyzing heart rhythm. Do not touch the patient. Analyzing. Stand clear.

  What felt like an eternity later but was probably only a few seconds, the machine said, Shock advised. Charging. Stay clear of patient.

  “Everybody, back up,” Brendan said.

  The machine gave a voice prompt again. Deliver shock now. Press the orange button now.

  Brendan complied and the machine again spoke.

  Shocking! Stand Clear!

  The man convulsed but then went still again.

  “Come on, Martin. Come on,” Brendan urged.

  Shock delivered. It is safe to touch the patient. Begin CPR.

  “Do I start compressions again?” Lucy asked.

  “Yes, for two minutes then we’ll try to shock him again.”

  She started up again and after about six or seven compressions, Martin gasped, just like in the movies.

  “Brendan.”

  “Stop for a second.” He checked the man’s airway, but Lucy knew the defibrillator had done its job. The man’s color had greatly improved, and she felt his chest rise and fall.

  “He’s breathing!” she exclaimed. The man’s wife cried out just as the door to the café burst open and two paramedics rushed in.

  “What do you got, Chief?” the older one asked.

  “Male Caucasian, approximately sixty-five years old, nonresponsive, not breathing. We just shocked him with the AED and restarted cardiac activity.”

  “Nice work. You’ve always had a way with a defibrillator.”

  “What can I say? It’s a gift.”

  Brendan stood up. On the surface, he looked as calm as ever, but she could sense the tension seething through him.

  “Judy?” Martin said, his voice raspy and weak.

  “I’m here, darling!” Judy knelt on the floor of the diner and looked up at both of them with a look of deep gratitude. “You saved his life! That was amazing!”

  “He’s not out of the woods yet,” Brendan said gruffly as the paramedics swarmed the scene, lifting the man onto a gurney and attaching him to oxygen and all kinds of sensors. “My guys here are going to transport him to the Hope’s Crossing hospital, where we’re lucky enough to have an excellent cardiac team. They may end up sending him to a larger hospital in Denver for treatment, depending on what caused the event.”

  “I don’t care. He’s alive.”

  The woman reached out and hugged Lucy. “Thank you. Thank you so much. He’s everything to me.”

  “I didn’t do much, only followed orders. It was Chief Caine here who did all the heavy lifting. He’s the expert.”

  “Chief Caine? Are you the fire chief?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he answered.

  She gave a ragged-sounding laugh. “Can you believe that, Martin? You’re the only one I know lucky enough to have a heart attack at the same time the Hope’s Crossing fire chief and his wife are having dinner across the aisle.”

  Lucy wanted to correct the woman, but it didn’t seem worth the trouble, not under the circumstances.

  “Thank you again,” the woman said. “I don’t even want to imagine what might have happened if y
ou hadn’t been here.”

  “I like this outcome much better than the alternative,” Brendan said with a forced smile.

  Lucy again sensed his tension. How did he do it? Go out on cardiac emergencies when his own otherwise young and healthy wife had died of a heart attack? It must eat him alive, wondering why he could save men like Martin yet hadn’t been able to save Jessie or their baby.

  No one could have saved them. She wanted to tell him that. She had done a great deal of research on the rare condition that had killed Jessie. Lucy knew the mortality rate was high and even if he had been right next to Jessie with an AED, she still likely wouldn’t have survived.

  “Well,” she finally said. “That was a little more excitement than I expected in Hope’s Crossing.”

  He let out a long breath. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking because a place is small, nothing of significance happens there. The smallest moments in a person’s life can be life-changing.”

  The other paramedics loaded the other man up on the stretcher and started to roll him out to the waiting ambulance when one of their radios crackled with static.

  “Auto-pedestrian accident, Main Street and Silver Sage Road.”

  “That’s just a block from here,” Brendan said. “Who’s the other team on duty?”

  “Chen and Myers,” one of the EMTs answered. “They got called a half hour ago to a fall at the senior center. They might be done by now.”

  “But probably not.”

  “Yeah. Probably not.”

  “Do you need to go help?” Lucy asked. “I can take care of Faith and Carter. I’ll get them tucked in just like last time.”

  He looked torn. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. No problem. I’m happy to do it. You told me you trust me, remember?”

  “You certainly proved yourself tonight.”

  She knew she shouldn’t find such a glow of satisfaction from his words but she couldn’t seem to help it. Yes, she had been the marketing director for a Forbes 500 company and had moved up the ranks extraordinarily quickly, overseeing an international staff of five hundred people. She had traveled around the country on the corporate jet, had spoken in front of many industry leaders, all the tech movers and shakers.