Chapter 4
MUCH CALMER FASHION
“Have a good night, Dr. Ridgeway.”
“Thanks,” he said to whoever called that out. “You too.”
The nursing shifts changed over earlier than the doctors’. Floaters seemed to fill in more than regular staff. Or the regulars didn’t stay long.
The ER wasn’t a place for the faint of heart.
But it was the place he always wanted to be.
Even if it carried memories he didn’t always handle well internally.
Not that he let people know, but days like this… Days where family members were crying over deaths or a life-altering diagnosis. Yeah, those were the days maybe he wished for another career.
Wished that he could save everyone.
Wished that he wasn’t human like the next person but had superpowers to make the world right.
But like his siblings, he was calm under pressure. Smooth in the roughest of situations.
Did he break in the silence? In the peace of his home when no one was around to witness it? Sometimes.
Just not as often as he had earlier in his career.
Maybe getting slammed with the stabbing death on his second day here hardened him, but it made him a better doctor too.
If he told himself that enough, he could get through the crying of others, the tough times, and know he did the best he could.
He walked to his SUV, the late June sun beating on his face, even at seven thirty. He’d get another hour of sunlight. He loved this time of year for that alone.
The drive home was less than ten minutes. He pulled into the development, row after row of homes looking the same, eight of them in a block. He was lucky enough to be on the end and only have one neighbor.
He parked outside his garage door. He had his weight set in there in the summer. Come winter he’d take it apart and shove it in a corner, then use the gym at the hospital the four days he worked so he could get his SUV out of the snow.
Tossing his laptop, phone, and badge on the kitchen island, he walked up the stairs to his room. He moved into the bathroom, turned the water on, stripped out of his scrubs, climbed into the steam-filled space and let the water beat over his head for a good two minutes.
Once he felt all the tension leave his body, he washed every part of himself twice like he normally did, then climbed out, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt and made his way to find some food.
With a leftover chicken breast on a plate next to a mound of macaroni salad, he opened his glass doors and stepped out to his small patio table, taking a seat and eating while he looked at the grass behind him.
Best part of this place, or this building, was not looking at neighbors, just open grass leading into the woods behind.
The two sections of fence between each property gave them a smidgen of privacy. He could still hear noises, but not always see where it was coming from.
He heard his phone ringing, so got up and moved back to the kitchen to grab it. His mother, so he answered and put it to his ear.
“Hi, Mom.”
“I’m not interrupting you at work, am I?”
“I wouldn’t have answered if you were. I got home about twenty minutes ago and am eating on the patio. What’s going on?”
He’d always worry when his parents called, remembering the one he got over three years ago that his father had taken a serious fall and broken his back. He was already on his way home to start his career, which put another stress on his shoulders.
On everyone’s.
But they’d gotten through, everyone coming out on the other end in a better, stronger place.
“I didn’t know your schedule and wanted to extend a dinner invitation to everyone. We are getting close to Clay’s wedding, so buttoning a few things up. He and Meredith shouldn’t have to do it all for their special day.”
“They won’t,” he said. “And I’ll be there.”
“Great. I’ll have a full house because Ash is off too. I love nothing more than my table bristling with the noise of my children.”
“You’ve got three extra ones now,” he said, laughing.
His brother Ford had married Reenie last month. Boy, talk about flashbacks to someone bleeding out. Ford had been shot a little over a year ago, his femoral artery clipped, and rushed in unconscious. Good thing Clay had tied off Ford’s leg before the EMTs arrived.
Blaze kept his brother alive, the artery clamped, and went into the OR while the trauma surgeon took care of the rest. This patient he wasn’t walking away from. If things went sideways, he was going to be on hand to cover.
Thankfully, his brother made a full recovery and was now happily married to the woman he had saved that day.
“I do,” his mother said. “I know it’s early yet with Rory and Gale, but I see the writing on the wall. He’s content to stay here.”
His sister was an attorney with her own practice. Rory Connors had returned to Lake George over two months ago to investigate his sister’s unsolved fifteen-year-old murder.
It wasn’t unsolved anymore, the killer being brought to justice... after Rory was being strangled and Gale shot the murderer in the leg to get him to drop the man she loved.
And let’s not forget about Meredith. Clay’s fiancée. She’d been drugged and kidnapped by her deranged neighbor who’d been stalking her for over a year.
Clay found and saved Meredith last fall.
“I’m happy for them,” he said.
“Now if my other boys could each find themselves a woman, I’d feel complete.”
He laughed. “I’m sure you’d like us to find them in a much calmer fashion.”
“Yes, please.” He heard the laughter on the other end. “I’m not sure my heart can take much more, but I know it’s as if trouble follows you all around. Thankfully, you can handle it.”
“We can. And I’ll be there Sunday with bells on and some empty containers for leftovers.”
“There is always plenty. If you stopped out to visit more, I could fill you up.”
“I should. Sunday is my first day off so I’ll be good. You don’t need to cook for me.”
“I don’t. I cook for your father and it’s an open door for anyone who wants more.”
“With Clay next door, you’re used to it.” His brother lived in the ranch down the road from the farmhouse they all grew up in. “Even having Reenie at the cafe daily, I bet she’s taking home food for Ford.”
“Don’t be jealous,” his mother said. “You moved closer to the hospital.”
He grinned. “I did. It’s all good. I know I can stop in whenever I want.”
Though he didn’t often and felt bad for that. Everyone had crazy schedules, but his was the worst.
He never only worked his twelve-hour shift; it was often closer to thirteen with him going in early and staying a bit later to turn over cases.
And when they needed someone to take extra shifts, he was the first with his hand lifted. The more experience he got, the better doctor he’d be.
“The door is open. I’ll see you on Sunday.”
He hung up after that, finished his dinner while he heard some child’s laughter. There were enough around, but not as much as other buildings that had three bedrooms over his section that only had two.
When the laughter got louder, he looked out into the yards past the small fencing and noticed a little girl kicking a soccer ball.
He bet that was Arden’s daughter. He hadn’t seen her before. Didn’t see her yesterday either as he assumed she was in the house when the ex was there.
The ball was kicked again, and this time it went sailing between the houses and closer toward him. Not to him, but he kept looking in that direction when he heard, “No, Gracie. I’ll get it.”
Yep, that was Arden’s voice.
No mistaking it. Firm, a little rough around the edges, like someone who didn’t take crap from anyone but still had room in her tone for gentleness. He’d heard that same voice soften for a scared little girl earlier, and damn if it hadn’t hit him right in the gut.
Now it was laughter instead, easy and free.
Yeah, that sound could do dangerous things to a man who thought he’d built up some immunity.
He saw her now, the laughter trailing after her like a shadow to the sun that was lowering in the distance. Her head popped up as if she’d felt eyes on her as she crossed onto the two properties splitting their homes.
He half lifted his hand, wiggled his fingers in a little wave and added a smile.
She hesitated for a hot minute, returned the wave and picked the ball up.
“Mommy, who’s there?”
The little girl came running out next to her mother, almost peeking out behind her legs.
She wasn’t that far away, enough that he could see she was torn between walking home or progressing forward.
He fucking hoped it was forward, which was strange for a man who liked his space to unwind and decompress at the end of a shift.
“It’s someone Mommy works with,” Arden said. “We found out today when we crossed paths.”
“Hi,” he said, his deep voice carrying.
She turned and tossed the soccer ball back into their yard, then crossed the grass toward him.
Black cotton shorts stopped mid-thigh on her legs. She was on the petite side but didn’t come off as small or weak. Not once yesterday when confronting her ex and definitely not while doing her job earlier.
She had what looked to be an old concert T-shirt on. When she got closer he noticed it was Disturbed. He’d gone to one of their concerts ten years ago at SPAC. How funny would that have been if she’d been there too?
Not really since most in this area attended concerts there in Saratoga.
“Why are you smiling?” she asked. “It’s as if you just discovered some mystery of the world.”
He was pointing at her shirt and saw the date on it. “I was there too.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep. One of the best concerts I’d been to. Breaking Benjamin played, and two other bands. I can’t remember.”
“I’d think you’d remember everything in that brain of yours, being an ER doctor.”
“Medical stuff, sure. Not always music. I was there for the headliners.”
“Well, I’ll confess I don’t remember the fourth band, but the third was Alter Bridge. They had a song back then I really liked.”
“I have to say, I didn’t picture you the head-banging music type. You’re starting to be like an onion.”
She laughed. “Do I stink?”
“You don’t smell, Mom.”
He was still grinning at the little girl who seemed too timid to walk out from behind her mother.
“Thanks, Gracie. I think Dr. Ridgeway means I’ve got a lot of layers to me. It was a phase,” she said. “I’ve mellowed some.”
“I doubt that,” he mumbled and stood up.
“Gracie, this is Dr. Ridgeway. He’s a doctor in the ER.”
“Blaze,” he said. “You can call me Blaze.”
“Dr. Blaze,” Gracie said, still standing behind her mother. “Like a fire.”
His grin widened. If that was what she wanted to call him, that was fine. “Yes, like a fire. Though I’ve got a brother who is a fireman and his name is Ash.”
“Really?” Arden asked.
“Yes. My mother, she’s unique. There is a theme to the names of her kids.”
“I’d like to hear that sometime.”
“I think I’d like to tell you.” It’d been a long time since he’d offered any part of his life to any woman and was surprised those words tumbled out so easily.