Hard Rain. Darlene Scalera

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      Doc Holland, the town’s only doctor, had suffered a heart attack and was recovering in a Houston hospital. The fire department’s one paid EMT had recently married and moved to North Dakota. Even before the hurricane warning was issued, Turning Point’s emergency services had been stretched thin. When the hurricane watch became a warning and coastal residents began heading inland, Mitch had contacted Dan Egan. Dan was fire chief in Courage Bay, a small coastal city in southern California, but he’d been born and raised in Turning Point.

      “Took us a while to get here from Christi with all the traffic,” Mitch grumbled. “I hadn’t even finished briefing them before the calls started coming in. Lily Browning went into labor. Never fails when the pressure drops. Of course, Gabe’s out of town. Jolene had just come in and was manning the radio until Ruth got here. Minute she heard the news about her neighbor she jumped on the call. I made her take the paramedic that came in from California with her up to the Rock-a-Bye Ranch.”

      Jesse half smiled as he scanned the road. “Not without a fight I’ll bet.” Jolene was Mitch’s daughter and as headstrong as she was fearless and loyal.

      “She was none too happy about it. Afraid the poor paramedic—Nate Kellison—will bear the brunt of it, but Jolene’s along five months herself now. I don’t like the idea of sending anyone out on a call alone if I can help it, and especially my pregnant daughter. But with all these people coming into town, the calls are starting to follow.”

      “Don’t you worry about Jolene. She can take care of herself.” As she’d proved to everyone in Turning Point after the tragic death of her husband almost five months before—only days before she learned about her own pregnancy. “So, everyone’s out on calls already?”

      “The team’s EMT just left to fly up with Micky Flynn in the turboprop to pick up those scouts and their leader. But there’s a trauma nurse and an ER resident getting ready to start setting up a triage area.”

      “I’m on my way to check out things at the high school. It’s filling up pretty quickly. If a member of the team is available, I’d like one of them to come with me to assess the setup, look over the school nurse’s station and suggest any other supplies or equipment that should be brought in.”

      “You bring another nurse into Flo’s territory, she’s going to get huffy.”

      Jesse smiled. The school nurse, Florence Templeton, was two years from retirement and had spent a lifetime soothing students and defusing catastrophes. She did not take kindly to outside interference.

      “Maybe not if it’s a doctor,” Jesse suggested. “How about I swing by the station after I check in at my office, pick up the doctor and bring him over to lend a hand?”

      As Jesse spoke, a broken tree limb spun crazily across the road. He turned the wheel, swerving to avoid the branch. It moved on into a field. The wind was picking up. The temperature was dropping. Jesse could feel it in his bones.

      “It’s a—” Static crackled over the line, cutting short the chief, as the rising wind played with the communication waves.

      “What’d you say?” Jesse asked the chief once the channel cleared.

      “I said the doctor is a woman. Dr. Amy Sherwood.”

      The four-wheeler swerved once more, although the road was straight and clear.

      AMY TURNED to Fire Chief Mitch Kannon as he stepped out of the dispatch office into the station’s main area. “Change of plans, ladies.”

      Amy glanced at her colleague, Cheryl Tierney, a trauma nurse from Courage Bay Hospital. They had both flown in from California with their two colleagues, Nate Kellison and Dana Ivie, this morning. Chief Kannon had already sent the paramedic and EMT out on calls. The chief held out an opened bag of chocolates, but both women shook their heads. For Amy, the adrenaline had already kicked in. She hadn’t been able to get down the homemade cinnamon buns the chief’s daughter had brought the volunteers before the call came in about the woman in labor. Fortunately Amy’s colleagues had had no problem enjoying them.

      “Sheriff would like to swing by, take you, Doc, out to the high school with him.”

      “There’s a problem?”

      The chief unwrapped the candy, popped it in his mouth. He chewed slowly. “No problems yet, but like I told you, the school’s been set up as an evacuation center and it’s filling up fast. Although major injuries can be handled here, the sheriff would like you to have a look at the first-aid supplies and equipment at the school in case of minor emergencies. He should be here in a minute or so.”

      Cheryl Tierney, a trauma nurse, picked up a box of the supplies the team had brought with them from California. “I’ll start setting up. It shouldn’t take long.”

      “I can help you carry the supplies while I wait.” Amy headed toward the other box.

      “I’ll get that.” The chief set the bag of candy on the table and hoisted the other box. “One of my men is manning the radio until our dispatcher, Ruth, gets in. If the sheriff shows up, give me a shout,” he told Amy.

      As Cheryl and the chief headed for the far end of the firehouse, Amy opened her medical bag on one of the long tables near the kitchenette area. Although she knew everything was in order, she busied herself checking the bag’s contents once more. She hated feeling useless. Some would interpret it as a fear of feeling helpless. When a ferret-faced second-year psych intern had done exactly that, she’d told him to save his analysis for rounds.

      The chief came back into the station house. “Sheriff didn’t show up yet?”

      Amy shook her head.

      “He should be right here.”

      Amy counted bandages by twos.

      “The oddsmakers are saying Damon will turn south, come ashore down by the border. Say it’ll peter out over the sea, bringing in no more than heavy rains and high winds by the time it makes landfall.”

      “Is that what you think, Chief?” Amy checked the tops of several saline bottles to make sure they were secure.

      “That’s what I pray.”

      She glanced up at the chief, whose blue eyes didn’t miss a trick. Over six feet tall and with a width as much muscle as fat, he easily earned his title. The humbling touch of silver at his temples and the wink he now gave her told Amy he was a man who could comfort as well as command.

      “I hope your prayer is answered, Chief.” She turned back to her bag.

      “You should sit, Doc, while you have the chance.”

      She hadn’t come here to sit. She was used to taking care of others, not the other way around. She appreciated the chief’s concern though. “Thanks, Chief, but I had my share of sitting on the flight down.” She flashed him a reassuring smile and turned her attention back to her supplies for a final time. She was zipping the bag closed when she heard a new voice behind her.

      “Hey, Mitch.”

      She stopped.

      “Hey, Sheriff. How’s the roads?”

      “Not bad if you stay СКАЧАТЬ