Hard Rain. Darlene Scalera
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Название: Hard Rain

Автор: Darlene Scalera

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Зарубежная классика

Серия: Code Red

isbn: 9781472051448

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ goes your cover.”

      “You’re from the California crew that came in from Christi this morning, aren’t you, darlin’?”

      “Lurie, this is Dr. Amy Sherwood,” Jesse introduced.

      The waitress shifted the coffeepot to her other hand and extended the free one. “Welcome to Turning Point, Doc.”

      Amy took the hand with its inch-long fingernails decorated with silver crescent moons. “Thank you. I’m glad I could come in to lend a hand.”

      “Not as happy as we are. Now, let me get your tea, but between me and you, darlin’—” the waitress leaned in “—I’d get the caffeine in my system while I can.”

      The waitress moved on down the counter without waiting for a reply, refilling mugs before she set the coffeepot back on the burner plate.

      “There was Bret in ’99, but that was mainly wind and rain by the time it came in to Christi,” a man several stools away was saying.

      But Amy’s thoughts went much farther back. Fourteen years back to when Coach Lasher had called her into the athletic office and asked her to tutor one of the football players. It was Coach Lasher who’d clocked Jesse in phys ed at a six-minute mile and saw a natural quarterback in the boy’s speed and grace. Coach Lasher also knew the exercise would help to channel the boy’s restless energy, relieve an inner anger that seemed to burn through him; the practices and structure of the sport would help to teach the boy discipline. But as well as the boy did in athletics, he did poorly in school work. School policy stated no athlete failing a subject could compete in sports. Jesse was failing three. Amy, president of the National Honor Society, tutored classmates during study hall. She hadn’t known the term dyslexia then. All she knew was that Jesse had a hard time reading, studying gave him tremendous headaches, and many times he wrote his letters backwards. He’d been called lazy and stupid for so long, he’d believed it was the truth. Amy showed him otherwise. For the first time, he’d wanted something so badly he’d put in the hours of frustration and work. Amy thought it was football he wanted. Later she learned it was her. They were together one year, and she’d loved him so deeply, the memory of it slammed her heart against her chest.

      Lurie brought her tea but Amy kept her gaze on the man beside her. She looked at him so hard the waitress copied her pose. He turned away from the weather coverage and faced her, allowing her to study him openly. If it was the Jesse Boone she’d loved all those years ago, they both knew he owed her that much.

      Was it him? Amy asked herself for what must be the hundredth time that day. Was it the man to whom she’d once freely given her heart, too young to know any better, too blinded by love to heed her mother’s warnings? She looked for an answer. Was it him?

      And what if it was? What then?

      Lurie pulled a jar of honey out of a deep apron pocket and set it down on the counter with a slight bang. Amy started.

      “There’s your honey, honey.” Lurie flashed a smile. “The usual, Sheriff?” Her smile widened. Her turquoise eye shadow had settled into the creases of her eyelids but the candy-apple red on her lips had a fresh sheen.

      Jesse nodded. Lurie scribbled something on a small green pad, glanced at Amy, her pencil poised above the pad.

      “Doc?”

      Amy looked at the plastic coated menu. “I’ll have a grilled cheese sandwich, please. Could you put a slice of tomato on it?”

      Lurie nodded, noting it on her pad.

      “On whole wheat if you have it.”

      Lurie nodded again.

      “And I’d prefer Swiss cheese instead of American.”

      Lurie looked up at her.

      “If you have it.”

      “We have it.”

      “And instead of fries, could I have extra coleslaw on the side? In a separate dish so the dressing doesn’t spread to the sandwich and make it soggy?”

      “Not a problem. Anything else?” Lurie’s pencil tapped the pad.

      “An extra pickle?”

      Lurie was shaking her head as she took their orders into the kitchen.

      “I can’t help it,” Amy said as she swiveled toward Jesse. “I love dill pickles.”

      Jesse’s head tipped to the side as he looked at her, an amused smile on his face.

      Amy sighed. “I know. High-maintenance.”

      “Seems like a control issue to me.” Jesse sipped his coffee, amusement still lighting the usual dark cast of his eyes.

      “Really?” Amy smiled. She picked up her own cup of tea. “Of course, you’re right.”

      “Of course I am.” He teased her easily.

      “A symptom of that whole physician-as-god complex.”

      “Exactly what I was thinking.” He was so handsome when he smiled. His eyes softened. His mouth curved, became accessible.

      Amy looked away. “That’s what brings ninety percent of us to medical school in the first place. Joke’s on us when we learn that nine times out of ten, things are out of our control.”

      “That’s not just in the medical field, Doc. That’s life in general.”

      Amy stirred her tea, smiled. “Still, it doesn’t seem to stop us from trying like hell.”

      He surprised her by clinking his cup against hers.

      “I upset Lurie, didn’t I?” Her smile faded.

      “I think it was the extra pickle that broke her.”

      She laughed softly, finding it easy to laugh with him. “She has a crush on you.”

      “You trying to make me blush, Doc?”

      “Is that possible?”

      “We big, burly protectors of society have our sensitive sides.”

      She liked seeing him smile. Not a polite smile, but one that relieved the flatness of his eyes and revealed warmth underneath.

      “So…?” She angled a questioning gaze at him.

      “So…what?”

      Amy cocked her head toward Lurie at the far end of the counter. “So…” She aimed a pointed look at his hands, bare of rings. “I’m assuming you’re single if you’re going to flirt with pretty waitresses. If not, my illusion of a real-life Texas sheriff is going to be forever crushed.”

      “Some might say my marital status is not exactly a pertinent issue here.”

      “Is that a polite way of saying it’s none of my damn business?”

      “In СКАЧАТЬ