Healing Her Heart

Larissa finished off the rest of her twelve-hour night shift, grateful when the

steady stream of patients slowed to a mere trickle. Between her deep concerns

over Annie Hinkle and her ridiculous awareness of Gabe, she was physically and

mentally exhausted.

Outside, she paused to stare in awe at the rising sun sliding up the horizon in

the east. The beautiful sight helped restore her sense of peace.

Church services would be nice, too, even though it was Saturday she knew

Crystal Lake Church always held an early morning service. She slid into her car

and headed in the direction of the small, beautiful, white church steeple clearly

visible between the leaves of the trees. She was glad it was Memorial Day

weekend as she had the next two days off before she had to return to work. As

painful as the twelve-hour shifts were to endure, the extra days off were

wonderful.

At the stoplight, she yawned so wide her jaw popped. Her eyelids became

unbearably heavy, and she pried her eyes open with an effort. Maybe it was

better to forgo church services and head home since she was likely to fall asleep

anyway. Her apartment was only a few miles away. Thankfully, she made it

home without a problem.

Inside, she set her alarm to go off in five hours, so she could try to get back on

a day-shift schedule. The worst part about working nights was switching back to

day shifts on her days off.

When her alarm blared five hours later, she groaned and staggered over to

shut it off. Every cell in her body craved more sleep, but she forced herself to

stay upright.

A cup of coffee and a light breakfast helped clear away the lingering fog

hovering along the edges of her mind. She stared outside at the bright sunlight.

What she needed was a good rush of adrenalin. She tugged her running gear on,

pulled her wavy hair back into a ponytail to keep it off her neck. A visor helped

block the harsh rays from the sun as she headed outside.

The first half mile was the hardest, but once she hit her stride and wound her

way along the jogging trail, shaded by towering trees, she felt every one of her

muscles relax into an exhilarating rhythm. Other than being in church, these

were the times she felt the closest to God, and she silently recited a prayer as she

ran.

Distant sounds of laughter wafted up from the lake, where locals and tourists

were enjoying the water. She lived in a small apartment building outside of town

without direct access to the lake, although buying a small house on the water

was one of her goals.

Maybe next year, she thought with a smile. She’d come to Crystal Lake to

escape a bad relationship and to get far away from the high crime rate of

Chicago. The night the cops busted up a drug deal going down in the apartment

across the hall from hers had pushed her over the edge.

So far, she absolutely loved it here in Crystal Lake.

Her peaceful run was abruptly interrupted by the harsh roar of a motorbike.

She hugged the side of the trail, peering over her shoulder to make sure she saw

the cyclist before he came upon her unexpectedly.

The growl of the engine became louder, and she stifled a sliver of unease. One

wrong move on this dirt-packed, hilly trail could result in disaster.

The motorbike abruptly crested the hill, heading straight toward her. She

leaped off the trail to get out of harm’s way. But she landed off balance, her foot

slipping on loose rocks and branches. She went down hard. The motorbike

swerved around a curve, the driver letting out a loud whoop.

“Idiot,” she muttered, assessing for injuries. Her knees and the palms of her

hands were scraped raw from her tumble, but it could have been worse.

She stood, and her right ankle zinged with pain. Great. Just what she needed

—a sprained ankle roughly two and a half miles from home.

The sound of the motorbike grew louder again, and she stared at the trail,

unable to believe the guy had the nerve to come back after the reckless stunt

he’d pulled. Sure enough, he was riding down the trail, once again headed

straight for her.

For a split second, she had the distinct impression that he was purposely

trying to run her down. She scrambled out of the way, grasping the trunk of a

tree for support as the motorbike whizzed by, so close that she could feel the heat

from the engine blasting against her legs.

She clung to the tree for several long moments, afraid the motorcyclist was

going to come back for a third time. She sent up a silent prayer, thanking God for

her safety, before she finally let go of the tree and hobbled back onto the trail.

She limped as pain reverberated up her leg with every step. Finding a thick tree

branch, she improvised, using it as a walking stick.

The soft thud of footsteps on the trail made her tense. She forced herself to

relax; there was no reason the driver of the motorbike would decide to come

back on foot. It wasn’t unusual to pass other joggers on the trail.

Sure enough, a runner came into view. A tall man, wearing a sweaty orange T-

shirt and navy blue shorts, with ear buds tucked into his ears blocking out the

noise. Personally, she didn’t get why anyone would want to listen to music while

running when the peace and quiet was so much more soothing. But to each his

own.

As the jogger approached, she grimaced when she recognized Gabe Allen.

She shouldn’t have been surprised; she’d passed him on the running trails before,

and they’d exchanged brief greetings before heading their separate ways.

When he caught sight of her, he frowned and immediately slowed down,

tugging the ear buds from his ears. “Larissa, are you all right? What happened?”

She willed her heart rate not to jump as he stepped closer, concern darkening

his warm, brown eyes. She cleared her throat and strove for a light tone. “Did a

hotshot on a motorbike fly past you?” she asked wryly. “Because he ran me off

the trail—twice.”

“Yeah, I saw him.” Gabe dropped down to a crouch to examine the scrapes on

her knees before he gently prodded her ankle. She sucked in a swift breath, and

he glanced up at her. “This looks like a bad sprain.”

“Thanks for the diagnosis, doc,” she said lightly. “I realize I’m just a nurse,

but I kinda figured that out all by myself.”

Gabe didn’t take offense but sent her a lopsided smile. “You should probably

get an MRI to rule out ligament damage.”

She shrugged. “Yeah, but I can’t do that until the swelling goes down,

anyway, right?”

“Right. You’ll get a better picture if you wait a few days,” he agreed, rising to

his feet. “Come on, lean on me, and I’ll help you get home.”

“What?” His offer was so unexpected she nearly lost her balance. The last

thing she needed was to cozy up to Gabe for two and a half long miles. “There’s

no need for you to cut your run short because of me. I have my trusty walking

stick. I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not leaving you here like this. Leaning on me is way

better than using a stick, and my place isn’t that far, just a mile and a quarter

from here.”

A mile and a quarter still seemed like a long way, but it was better than going

all the way to her apartment. She reluctantly nodded. “All right. But I’m hot and

sweaty,” she warned as he wrapped his arm firmly around her waist.

“Me, too,” he said easily, shortening his stride to match hers.

Their progress was still awkward, and she was far too aware of being so close

to Gabe. “I wish I knew who that motorbike driver was,” she muttered in an

attempt to distract herself from his nearness. “I’d report him to the police. He’s a

menace on these trails.”

“I’m pretty sure that was Tommy Hinkle,” Gabe said. “I’ve taken care of him

a few times in the ER.”

“Annie’s son?” The knowledge almost made her feel sorry for him. “Do you

think his father hits him, too?”

Gabe was silent for several moments. “Actually, I think the kid is probably

too much like his father,” he said finally. “The last time Tommy was in the ER

was because he was under arrest for driving under the influence. He bragged that

his dad would bail him out, no problem. I got the impression his dad lets him do

whatever he wants. Maybe even encourages him.”

She sighed and shook her head. “Poor Annie. I’m getting the feeling it’s two

against one in that household.”

“Yeah, I’m afraid so.” They walked along in silence for a few minutes. Then

Gabe’s arm tightened around her waist, drawing her to a halt. “There, see

between the trees? That’s my place. Think you can make it that far?”

“Yes, I can make it,” she assured him, even though in truth, her right ankle

still throbbed like crazy. Not to mention, being this close to him was wreaking

havoc on her hard-won control.

Larissa knew she couldn’t afford to let her guard down with Gabe. No matter

how much she wanted to.

____________

Gabe grimly paced off the distance to his place as they made their way along

the trail. He couldn’t, in good conscience, leave Larissa to hobble along on her

own, but holding on to her like this hadn’t been the brightest idea he’d ever had.

She fit against his side perfectly, her slight frame hiding a strength he couldn’t

help but admire. Her ankle looked terrible, but she didn’t whine or complain. In

fact, if he hadn’t offered to help her, he knew she would have continued on her

way without asking for assistance.

He had to remind himself for the tenth time that she was an ER nurse, which

meant she was off-limits. Permanently.

Knowing that Tommy Hinkle was the one who’d run her off the trail made

him grit his teeth in anger. Larissa was right, the kid was a menace, but he

suspected that there wouldn’t be much the police could do about it now.

“Gabe? Is something wrong?” Larissa asked.

He glanced down in surprise. “No, why?”

“Your arm around my waist is getting tighter and tighter,” she admitted. “You

might want to lighten up a bit.”

He mentally smacked himself. “Sorry about that,” he said, relaxing his grip. “I

was getting mad thinking about Tommy. How’s your ankle holding up?”

“Just peachy,” she said in a wry tone. “I’m trying to take heart in the fact that

your house is slowly getting closer.”

“We’ll be there soon, and then you can relax,” he promised. His modest,

wood-sided A-frame overlooking the lake was his private sanctuary, and while

he wasn’t accustomed to having women over, it wasn’t as if he could drag

Larissa all the way to town on foot. He knew she lived in the same apartment

complex that Merry Haines and several of the other staff lived in because he’d

overheard the nurses comparing notes one day about an exceptionally noisy

neighbor.

“Your home looks very rustic,” she said as they finally approached the

driveway. Only ninety more feet to go. “Somehow I expected something

more...flashy.”

“Flashy?” He grasped his chest as if wounded. “Do I really look like the type

that goes for flashy?”

She chuckled. “No, but doctors generally live a much higher lifestyle than the

rest of us.”

He hid a stab of disappointment regarding her observation. Was she like so

many of the other nurses? The ones who set their sights on marrying a doctor?

And when they didn’t get what they wanted, stooped so low as to tell lies, not

caring that they destroyed a man’s reputation?

“It’s so beautiful,” she murmured. “You must love the peace and quiet.”

“I do,” he agreed, refusing to waste any time thinking about Rebecca. She was

out of his life, for good. Three more feet and they were up to his front stoop.

“Can you navigate the step all right? Or should I carry you?”

“I can do it,” she responded quickly.

He held the door open for her, and she limped inside, heading for the closest

chair. “Thanks,” she said with a sigh. “Feels good to sit down for a moment. I

hate to ask for any more favors, but I’d appreciate a ride home.”

“I’ll drive you home as soon as we clean up those wounds.” Didn’t she realize

there was blood oozing out from the dirt filled abrasions? “Sit tight, I’ll be right

back.”

“Wait, you don’t have to—” she began, but he ignored her. He went to

rummage through his bathroom cabinet, finding everything he needed: dressings,

tape, antibiotic ointment. When he returned, he discovered she’d made her way

into the kitchen.

“I don’t want to bleed on your carpet,” she said with a hint of defensiveness.

“And I washed the scrapes on my hands with soap and water.”

He set the supplies on the table and then went over to fill up a bowl with

soapy water. He brought it over and knelt beside her. “This might hurt,” he

warned as he took a soft washcloth and began cleaning her knees.

The abrasions weren’t too bad, and she didn’t say a word as he cleaned them

up. “What’s the matter?” he asked when he finished putting fresh dressings in

place. “Did you think a measly doctor wouldn’t know how to dress a wound?”

“No, you did a fine job,” she said in a low voice. She avoided his gaze.

“Thanks so much. It’s a good thing I’m off work for the next two days. A bit of

rest and I’ll be as good as new.”

“You might want to see your doctor. He’ll write you an excuse to stay off

work longer if needed.”

“I’ll be fine,” she repeated. “I’m sure you want to get back to your run, so if

you could just drive me home, I’ll get out of your hair.”

She was acting a bit strange, and he thought she might be having more pain

than she’d let on. He loosened her running shoe. “First, let’s wrap up this ankle.”

The swelling hadn’t gotten too much worse, which was a good sign since she’d

been walking on it for the past twenty minutes. Maybe there wasn’t any ligament

damage. “Better?” he asked when he’d finished wrapping it snuggly.

“Much.” Her voice sounded strained. “Thanks. Again.”

He stared at her for a moment, trying to gauge her mood. He rose to his feet

and crossed over to the fridge. He pulled out a bottle of water and handed it to

her. After taking a swig of his own water, he took a bag of frozen peas out of the

freezer. “Here, use this as an ice pack,” he said, draping the bag over her ankle.

She let out an unexpected chuckle. “Too funny. I have a bag of frozen peas

that I use as an ice pack, too.”

He couldn’t help but return her smile. “I bet every runner has a bag of peas in

their freezer.”

“Maybe,” she agreed. She took a long drink of water before recapping the

bottle. “So, is there anything else you think you need to fix, Dr. Allen? Or should

we get going?”

He had the insane urge to offer to make her dinner but stopped himself just in

time. “I’ll drive you home. Here, lean on me. My car is in the garage.”

“No problem.” She held on to the peas and the water bottle with one hand and

held him around the waist with the other. It was a short distance, but he found he

missed her touch once she was safely tucked into the passenger seat.

Larissa kept glancing out her window on the ride home, and he got the sense

she was avoiding him for some reason. After about ten minutes, he pulled up to

her apartment complex.

He insisted on helping her up to her apartment despite her protests that she’d

be fine. “Do you need anything else?” he asked after she unlocked the door.

“Nope, but thanks again. See you later,” she barely got out before she shut the

door firmly between them.

He stared at the closed door for several long seconds before turning to make

his way back outside to his car. The thought that she’d been so anxious to get rid

of him didn’t sit well.

And much like the way she’d interrupted his run—granted, through no fault

of her own—she annoyingly infiltrated his thoughts for the remainder of the day.