Emergency Reunion. Sandra Orchard

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СКАЧАТЬ Eddie waved his knife as if Cole should know.

      “Drop the knife, Eddie.”

      “I just needed a fix.”

      “I know.” That telltale muscle twitch in Cole’s cheek gave her an odd pang of reassurance. “But I can’t help you if you don’t drop the knife.”

      “You don’t wanna help me!” Eddie shoved her into Cole’s line of fire and broke toward the rear door.

      Thrown off balance, she tumbled out the side opening, right into Cole’s arms. They closed protectively around her, his legs already in motion. And for a few blissful seconds she felt fifteen again. He rushed her away from the ambulance and coaxed her onto a porch step.

      Her patient’s porch step.

      Remembering the poor gentleman who’d been in so much pain when they arrived, she lurched to her feet. “We need to transport our patient.”

      Cole urged her back down. “It’s okay. Another ambulance is en route.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the tenderness in his gaze making it difficult to breathe.

      She forced herself to inhale a deep breath, but with it came his distinctive, spicy scent. A scent that had whisked her into silly happily-ever-after fantasies more times than she cared to remember. Memories assaulted her of the sweet kiss and soul-stirring hug they’d shared after she’d played paramedic and treated the swollen, bloodied knuckles he’d gotten taking out his anger on the wooden fence between their yards. She squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t let him inside her head again and definitely not her heart.

      At a sudden painful pressure against her cheek, she jerked back, her eyes popping open.

      Cole’s lips dipped into an apologetic frown. “Your cheek is bleeding.” He held out a bloodstained tissue.

      She accepted it from him and pressed it to the wound, cringing at what a wreck she must look. What was she supposed to say? Good to see you after all these years. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she settled for, “Thank you for getting me out in one piece.”

      He cradled her jaw in his palm and coaxed the muscles to relax with a soothing brush of his thumb. “You were amazing back there.”

      She stiffened, not wanting to acknowledge how something inside her came alive at his touch, at the admiration in his gaze.

      Dan hurried toward her, trauma bag in hand.

      But Cole didn’t budge. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and she had the uncomfortable feeling he was apologizing for a lot more than his out-of-control brother.

      * * *

      If Cole needed any more proof that he shouldn’t get involved in a serious relationship, he was staring her right in the face—sun-kissed hair pulled back in a ponytail, save for the wayward strands shielding wary blue eyes; trembling lips that even tipped down still dented her cheeks with those adorable dimples he used to lie awake thinking about; and that sweet strawberry scent that would forever transport him back to the day he’d stolen a kiss and she’d responded with a hug so touching it had probably kept him from doing something really stupid seven years ago—it and her admonition not to lose faith. Sherri Steele. The epitome of what his messed-up family had cost him.

      She’d been the bright spot in their neighborhood, always quick to offer a smile or lend a hand.

      Now, with another paramedic examining her neck, thanks to his brother’s ruthless attack, she couldn’t even look at him.

      Exhaling, Cole tore his gaze from the purple smudges blooming under her eyes and turned to his partner, who was hauling his handcuffed brother off the sidewalk.

      “This is your fault!” Eddie screamed, wrestling against Zeke’s hold as he hurled increasingly colorful insults at Cole, his expression rabid.

      This was not how Cole had hoped his first shift with the Stalwart Sheriff’s Department would go down. Let alone his first meeting with Eddie. He’d anticipated needing the full armor of God to battle Eddie’s inevitable resistance, not his stun gun. He’d been away seven years too long. Seven years of trying to convince himself that he wasn’t his brother’s keeper. Seven years of running from God. He tried not to cringe at Eddie’s hollowed-out cheeks, heavy-lidded bloodshot eyes, the rat’s nest of jet-black hair—not his natural color. Taking another deep breath, Cole bit back the lecture scraping his throat.

      His brother was in no condition to hear it. And he had no right to say anything. If he wanted Eddie to listen to him, he needed to start by earning back his trust.

      “He’s tripping out pretty good,” Cole said to his partner, who’d finally got Eddie subdued. “We’ll need to take him to the hospital before we book him.”

      The balding heavyweight who’d bellowed at the sheriff for being “saddled with breaking Cole into the way things worked in Stalwart” propelled Eddie toward their cruiser. “Family connections will not get you any special treatment from me,” Zeke hissed in Eddie’s ear, shoving him hard against the trunk and digging a knee into Eddie’s bony thigh as he reached for the rear door handle.

      Cole started toward him, but then stopped himself. The manhandling was over-the-top, but if he stepped in Zeke would accuse him of favoritism. He’d already made it clear that he didn’t appreciate Cole “usurping” the position that should have been his nephew’s. Cole should’ve known the ornery deputy would try any tactic to prove Cole didn’t deserve to be here. Three years with the Seattle PD clearly didn’t rank higher than blood with him. Talk about favoritism. As Zeke clamped his meaty palm on Eddie’s head and pushed him into the backseat of the cruiser, Cole hoped his brother wouldn’t add his silence to the list of things he held against him.

      He should’ve made more effort to connect since he’d returned to town two days ago, considering it was the only reason he’d taken the job in the first place. Never mind the dozen calls he’d made to Eddie’s cell phone. In this condition, his brother probably hadn’t even known he was ignoring them. Cole should’ve dropped by the house. And if he’d had to face his father, well...so be it.

      He wondered if Sherri still lived next door. She hadn’t seemed to recognize Eddie, so she’d probably moved away before the dye job and downward spiral. If not for the call from an old high school buddy alerting him to the situation here, Cole might not have recognized Eddie at first glance, either.

      “Did you hear me?” Zeke rounded the hood of the car.

      “What?”

      “I said did you get the paramedic’s statement?”

      Cole blinked, glanced back at Sherri, now being helped to her feet by her partner. She’d pulled the elastic from her hair, leaving it to tumble in soft sandy waves over her shoulders. She was more beautiful than he remembered. Of course, the last time he’d seen her she’d been only fifteen—just a girl. To an eighteen-year-old, the three-year age difference had seemed unbridgeable.

      “Cole?” Zeke repeated gruffly.

      “Not yet.” He pulled his notebook from his pocket and headed toward Sherri, hating how scattered and unprofessional he was coming off. He couldn’t have made a worse first impression if he’d tried.

      And Zeke’s griping СКАЧАТЬ