Chapter One.
April
“What do you mean, they’re laying people off?” I demanded as worry swamped me.
“Rumours are going around, and we’ve all been called to a meeting in ten minutes,” Macey said.
I placed my bag down. “This is bad, isn’t it?” I stated. That was an understatement. Shit, who’d have believed nurses would be laid off? Medical staff were always in need.
“Yeah, well, seems the director and his band of merry thieves have been dipping into the honey pot, and the place is on the verge of bankruptcy,” Macey sneered.
Holy crap. I’d been lucky to get this job.
As a newly qualified DNP five years ago, jobs had been scarce because of cutbacks.
Somehow, I’d landed at a small hospital and had been thankful.
Now, it appeared everything was about to go pear-shaped.
Worried, frightened looks were being exchanged amongst the others surrounding me, and a couple were already on their phones.
Damn, I guess they were checking local vacancies.
“Please come to the conference room,” a woman called, and I vaguely recognised her as being from HR.
Macey huffed and stomped out, and I hurried after her. Staff jammed into the conference room, and I saw four people sitting at a table at the front.
“Sorry to call you all here today, but the hospital has been declared bankrupt…” That’s all I needed to hear. Crap, I was out of a job effective immediately. Some staff were being kept on while the hospital closed, but the rest of us had to grab our stuff and leave.
Fuck my life.
◆◆◆
“Pour me another,” I said to the bartender. He looked me over, and I knew he was checking my sobriety.
“Bad day?”
“Sure as hell was. The hospital declared bankruptcy; therefore, I’m unemployed. There are jobs in the state I can apply for, but considering the number of staff who’ll also be applying, I’m looking at unemployment.”
“You gotta stay in state?”
Idly, I studied him. Good question.
“Don’t you have some sort of licence that lets you work in other states?” he continued.
“The Nurse Licensure Compact. Yup, I do have that,” I said, perking up.
I pulled my phone out and began a search online.
There were loads of other jobs outside Colorado.
Moving wasn’t an issue for me. I wasn’t emotionally tied to Colorado.
It had merely been a state where I could finish my Bachelor of Science in Nursing.
Once I’d achieved that, I’d stayed and worked while earning my Doctor of Nursing Practice, which opened several career paths for me.
On checking my phone, I was a little surprised at how many jobs existed nationwide.
I could afford to move. Most of my former colleagues couldn’t, and would be applying for the local ones, making the competition fierce.
I could be magnanimous and leave them to apply…
then again, the state with the most vacancies was the very place I’d run from—South Dakota.
“Thanks. Looks like a change of scenery might be in my future,” I said and sipped the drink in front of me.
A small voice taunted me: I could go home to Clara.
But there wasn’t a chance I’d return to SD.
After all, he lived there, and I couldn’t imagine the scene if we crossed paths. I’d apply for jobs far away from SD.
Hell, I could move anywhere; SD didn’t need to be an option. Mind made up, I smiled. I wouldn’t return to SD and risk seeing him. Good for me!
Four weeks later
Frustrated, I scowled at the landlord, who was being an ass and pointing out things that needed repairing. Every time the asshole did, I pulled up a picture and proved the issue had existed before I moved in. The fucker was trying to keep my security deposit, and I wasn’t about to let him.
“That crack wasn’t there!” he insisted. Loudly, I sighed and showed him proof it had been.
“Are we going to continue playing this game?” I demanded as his eyes roamed the apartment, looking for something else to accuse me of breaking.
“I’m not sure…” he began, and I cut him off.
“Look. I’m tired of this crap and need to hit the road soon.
You’re being an ass, and I can prove that whatever you claim I did, I didn’t.
I’ve more photos of everything that the previous tenant broke or damaged.
Now we can keep going round in circles, or I’ll contact a lawyer and take this further. What do you want to do?”
His scowl descended again, and he scratched his chicken chest through a dirty wife-beater. “Fine. I’ll write you a check.”
“Nope. I paid cash, and my receipt proves that. I want cash back,” I replied.
“But I don’t have that amount on me!” he squealed.
“Then hit a bank and get it.” I folded my arms as he glowered, and I raised an eyebrow. That was a neat trick my adopted mom used to use on me, and I was glad I’d learnt it. The weasel squirmed before dashing out of my soon-to-be former apartment.
“I’ll be down in half an hour to collect!” I yelled.
“Leaving?” a woman asked, and I spotted a neighbour—Fiona.
“Hi, yeah. In about thirty minutes, I hope,” I replied.
Fiona frowned. “You kept that quiet.”
I was surprised, to say the least. Fiona and I weren’t close; we were merely neighbours who said hello when we passed each other in the hallway.
“Got a new job,” I explained, and then wondered why I was doing so. I didn’t owe Fiona anything.
“Where are you moving to?” Fiona asked pointedly, and I felt my hackles rise. Fiona was pushing beyond polite neighbour boundaries.
“Out of state. Excuse me, I’ve a few more things to carry to my car,” I said and darted back into my apartment and closed the door.
I peered through the peephole and saw Fiona standing there, frowning.
There was a look on her face I couldn’t explain, except it gave me the shivers.
Fiona had always given off strong vibes of having issues.
Suddenly, I was glad to be escaping, even though I was headed for the one place I had refused to return to.
Fuckin’ South Dakota.
I hated it. There was only one reason I would have returned—Clara.
Clara had raised me and been a mother to me whenever my own went AWOL, which had been often.
The first time, I’d been about four when Mom, on a blind whim, left me alone.
Three days passed before Clara realised what had happened.
She took me in and called child services.
When Mom reappeared five days later, she claimed she’d contacted my father, who was supposed to have come to collect me.
As Daddy Dearest hadn’t been around for all of my young life, that was a barefaced lie.
Clara had been furious when I’d been returned to Mom.
Mom had figured out it had been Clara who’d snitched.
Spitefully, Mom told her that if Clara was so desperate for a child, she could have me whenever Mom left town.
That, sadly, had happened frequently.
From that day forward, I was often dropped at Clara’s with a bag while Mom ran off with whatever had caught her fancy.
Sometimes it was a job, or a vacation, and other times it was a man.
Mom had been an over-indulged rich kid, and it showed.
My grandparents had washed their hands of her when she got pregnant with me, but Mom had access to a trust fund and used it when she wanted.
As a kid, I wasn’t deprived of material things, but I certainly lacked love.
Mom never outright said she resented me for losing her cash cow, aka her parents, but she never put me first either.
I was nothing more than an afterthought.
Sadly, for Mom, she died young in an accident when the yacht she was on blew sky high, taking several millionaires with her.
Not her fault. The boat hadn’t been well-maintained, and the owner’s tightfisted ways had caused the incident.
When she died, I’d been sixteen, and with Clara’s support, I’d argued to stay with her.
The courts had listened and agreed that I could live with the woman I considered a mother.
Clara hadn’t had any other children, so we’d clung together through the years.
I loved her as much as any child loved their parent.
Clara had been heartbroken when I fled SD at twenty-two, having had my heart not just broken, but smashed to smithereens by my ex-boyfriend.
Clara understood and visited at least three times a year, often staying for four weeks or a little longer.
Now I was thirty-two and returning to the state I’d fled.
Ten years was a long time, but hate still burned inside me at how Stone Ryan had treated me.
Fists clenched, I shoved all thoughts of Stone away and stomped downstairs to finish loading the car. I hoped the landlord would hurry back. There was a long drive ahead, and I wasn’t looking forward to it.
While not as panicked as I was five days ago, urgency rode me since I’d received the call.
My beloved Clara had fallen badly and broken her hip and leg.
She was now in her late sixties, and while not too life-threatening, Clara was in pain.
Worse, after a week in the hospital, she’d discharged herself.
Stubborn was something Clara had invented; I was damn sure of that. She’d also refused to let me come home to check on her. Clara had told me to find a job and not worry about her. She’d hire someone to help. That wasn’t happening. I’d look after Clara, just as she’d once looked after me.
◆◆◆
Scowling, I drove into Spearfish and headed for Clara’s house.
It was in a very nice locale, although Spearfish was a desirable area to live in.
The street Clara lived on was in high demand, with bigger homes, more land, and a mix of well-to-do professionals.
In this part of town, houses with a seven-figure price tag dwelt.