Chapter Two
D eirdre Steen. Less than one minute of physical contact—that was all it took to encapsulate why Calvin had stayed away from Yukon Valley.
The simple acts of steadying her with his hands and holding her in his arms hit Cal harder than paddling straight into a hidden rock in class IV rapids. His stability shifted, and he had to quickly regain his balance.
He knew he’d eventually run into her at the hospital, but nothing had prepared him for those bright blue eyes twinkling up at him—at times crinkling with laughter or sad.
He peered at her retreating frame. Deirdre had more curves than back in high school. Her beauty had evolved along with her confidence. Time, care, and stress had etched faint lines of character and hard-won wisdom on her features. Her attractive face, framed by jaw-length chestnut hair, served as a testament to both survival and kindness.
He glanced over to Billy at the front desk, who to his credit, pretended to work, randomly punching the numbers on the unanswered phone in front of him. Like most folks in this area, Cal knew Billy from years ago. He had graduated high school when Cal was in middle school, but Billy’s reputation for extreme nosiness remained legend in school and in the community. Now? That guy had the perfect job to suit his talents.
Now there was a story of how Deirdre and Cal had literally crashed into each other and made awkward small talk. Yeah, zero chance that tale wouldn’t make it to every ear in the community by dinnertime.
He eyed Billy, who grinned like a Cheshire cat.
Make that lunchtime.
He waved at Billy and walked into the emergency department, en route to snag some spare scrubs and change clothes in the on-call room.
Amberlyn, one of the nurses on shift in the ED, intercepted him. “What happened to you?”
“Me versus Deirdre Steen’s coffee mug. The mug won. Who knew coffee is more effective if it’s taken by mouth rather than applied topically.” He gestured toward the mocha-scented brown spots speckling his vest and scrubs.
She giggled. “The Steens seem to have an uncanny habit of bumping into doctors these days. Must be fate.”
Cal shook his head. His parents had filled him in on all the details of how Deirdre’s brother Maverick Steen and Dr. Lee Tipton became romantically involved– with the help of hospital staff and community members. Turned out Cal’s parents played an unorthodox part in the mischief. To hear Pop tell it, it was Pop’s fake-patient acting job that finally forced Maverick and Dr. Lee to declare their intentions. Their love was good news for the couple, the hospital, and the community. In this small town at the end of the world, people relished a happy ending.
The bad news? If Amberlyn’s wolflike smile was any indication, the local matchmaking team had moved on to their next project. He gulped.
“Deirdre?” Her avid stare terrified him as she tapped her chin. “Oh yeah. I can see it. You two would make a cute couple.”
Not if he had any say in it. Time to nip this rumor in the bud. He held up his hands. “No. We are good friends from all the way back in elementary school.”
Her brows shot up. “So, you know about her husband being gone?”
He threw as much weight and sadness into his next words. Anything to shut down this line of questioning and well-meaning meddling. “Elijah and I were best friends.”
Best friends until Cal made the choice to step back in a move so final, he rarely returned to Yukon Valley. He used every excuse possible—college, medical school, residency, work. Somewhere along the way, those too-busy excuses turned into his too-busy reality.
He had stayed away for eighteen years.
The only time he had seen Deirdre since high school graduation was at Elijah’s bedside when his best friend had a matter of weeks to live. Even then, Cal hadn’t been able to speak the words and share with Elijah his regret at stepping aside and effectively cutting Elijah and Deirdre out of his life. No, Cal had cut himself out of their lives, and to a large extent the lives of his parents and Yukon Valley.
But at that time, he couldn’t do it. To confess, even at Elijah’s bedside, felt like betrayal. Still, Cal had made peace with his friend’s death shortly after his visit.
Had he made peace with himself? He wasn’t willing to explore that question.
However, dropping the death of a friend was one surefire way to shut down people prying in his life. A cop-out, but Cal didn’t have the patience to deal with coworkers who, though they might have his best interests at heart, also had way too much free time.
Amberlyn made the face and gave the quick nod people did when they wanted to convey polite but uncomfortable sympathy. “Oh, I-I didn’t realize that. I’m sorry for your loss, as well.”
Cal made the face and gave the quick nod people did when they needed to make polite but uncomfortable conversation about receiving sympathy. “Thank you.” One more grave nod for good measure. “Say, I’m gonna go change, given that I’m coated in black coffee. Be back out in a few minutes.”
Cal glanced around the quiet ED. Quiet was verboten to speak for anyone who worked in healthcare, regardless of the size or resources of the facility.
Yukon Valley Hospital’s trauma level four designated emergency department was a far cry from the level one, busy downtown Seattle ED he staffed. There were five total exam rooms, two of which were generously designated as trauma bays. The trauma designation made him laugh, only because the visiting surgeon came here two days every few weeks on an outreach rotation from Fairbanks. If only the traumas occurred on those exact days during working hours. Never at night or on weekends. Then they’d be set.
His usual workplace, a forty-seven bed ED in the sprawling Harborview Medical Center, received traumas and emergencies from Seattle and surrounding areas. His facility also took patients from local and regional facilities that did not have the resources to manage complex cases. Most days were a nonstop blend of intensity, excitement, and sheer terror, keeping Cal and his colleagues on their toes.
In Yukon Valley, his biggest trauma thus far included himself and coffee. From what he’d gleaned from staff, there were fewer moose accidents than he had envisioned. Regardless of what he was accustomed to, Cal couldn’t take a break from work while he spent the next few months helping his parents.
Student loans didn’t pay off themselves.
Cal had a job to do here. He also needed to fulfill his obligation as an only son and help Mom at the homestead and Pop through his cardiac recovery.
He glanced around the five pristine and unfortunately empty rooms in the department. Then he spied the two on-shift nurses, quietly talking. Probably plotting.
Yes, a little more ED business would be helpful. Anything to keep the staff too busy for matchmaking.
Stepping into the on-call room, he selected a fresh set of scrubs from the closet and placed the coffee-stained vest at the bottom of his locker.
He stopped and rubbed his palms together, trying to replicate the sensation of having Deirdre in his arms. After all these years.
He dropped a fist onto the locker, enough for the smack of pain to jolt him back to reality.
Unfortunately, his brain wouldn’t stop. Not after getting a hint of what he had walked away from years ago.
The definition of torture was the image of Elijah and Deirdre as partners. Happy. Together. Close. He couldn’t turn off the mental video. Deirdre had looked up at him mere minutes ago with that gentle smile that hid years of sadness.
Sadness that he wanted to—
To what? What would he do? They had no future.
The first virtual bucket of ice water hit him.
No future.
Then the second virtual bucket woke him the hell up. His chest clenched at the specter of Elijah, his friend’s grinning expression warm and welcoming. Cal couldn’t compete—wouldn’t compete—when it came to his friend.
Resting his head against the cool metal locker door, Cal remembered what it was to be second best.
Why he was second best.