Syndi Powell - Healing Hearts

Title Page Healing Hearts Syndi Powell www.millsandboon.co.uk

Copyright ISBN: 978-1-474-08090-3 HEALING HEARTS © 2018 Cynthia Powell Published in Great Britain 2018 by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental. By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher. ® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries. www.millsandboon.co.uk Version: 2020-03-02

Introduction “You look beautiful.” Zach smiled. “Why are you saying that to me?” “Because it’s true?” April looked into his eyes. “Why did you come here tonight?” Nothing like being direct. Zach took a step closer to her. “The thing is, I’ve tried not to think about you, but it’s impossible. So I am officially giving up. I came here tonight because I wanted to be near you. To spend time with you and see if this is the worst idea I’ve ever had.” “And what idea would that be?” “Would you like to go out for dinner sometime?” There. He’d asked her. Maybe the invitation wasn’t as eloquent as he’d hoped it would be, but it was out there now. And it was up to her to accept it. Or reject it, but he wasn’t going to think about that. “Why?” Okay, well, that wasn’t the response he’d hoped for. “Why not? Isn’t there something on that second-chance list we could cross off together?”

Dear Reader Dear Reader Contents Cover Back Cover Text About the Author Booklist Title Page Copyright Introduction Dear Reader Dedication CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE CHAPTER THIRTEEN Extract , I hope you’ve been enjoying Hope Center Stories as much as I have. Three different women on three different breast cancer journeys, but all of them strong survivors. It’s funny because though all three women are so different from one other, they each represent part of my own cancer story. In the first book, Sherri expressed my own thoughts and fears at the time I was diagnosed. With April’s story, I was able to explore my own second-chance list of what I wanted to do after I was well again. Some of her items that she wants to check off are similar to those I had, but haven’t completed as of yet. I need more of my inner April to come out and play! This story is also about those caretakers who give up pieces of their lives to help family members. I was privileged enough to be caretaker to my dad before he passed away in 2008. I remember at times feeling so overwhelmed by his care that I called my mom to tell her I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t watch as he faded away day after day. Yet looking back on it now, I wouldn’t trade that time with him for anything. I grew closer to my dad and cherish those small moments we shared. While Zach might not yet appreciate his own struggles with caring for his mom, I hope to show that caretakers are indeed special and blessed. Thank you for passing along these stories to family and friends. We are always stronger together! Syndi

Dedication Sometimes family isn’t the one you’re born into, but the one you create. To my stepdad, Russell D’Hondt, who loves to come up with twists and turns in the plot with me (you can thank him for helping me out of many a writing corner!) and who treats my mother like the queen she is. And to my stepbrother, John D’Hondt, who is showing us all how to take charge of your own life and make a difference instead of excuses. Keep up the great work!

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Extract

CHAPTER ONE

APRIL SPRADER WANTED one moment of sanity. Just one minute when she didn’t have to run between examination rooms because she didn’t have enough staff, which she didn’t. Her emergency department was shorthanded. Again. Half of the doctors and nurses out with the flu. Again. And the patients kept coming. She listened to her current patient’s breathing sounds. “Another deep breath, please.”

The older man sucked in air. She could hear the distinctive wheeze of infected bronchial tubes and removed the stethoscope from her ears. “I can run more tests, but it seems you have bronchitis.”

The man had a scrunched expression. “Not pneumonia, then.”

“Like I said, I could run more tests, but you’re wheezing due to inflamed lungs. They don’t have the liquid buildup of pneumonia.” She made a note on his chart and took a prescription pad from the front pocket of her lab coat. “You need to drink plenty of fluids and get some rest.” She wrote two prescriptions and ripped the slips from the pad before handing them to the man. “You can either fill these here at the hospital or take them to your local pharmacy. One’s for an inhaler, the other for a stronger cough medicine. If things don’t improve in a week, see your regular doctor.”

He thanked her and stuffed the prescriptions in the front pocket of his flannel shirt. One down. Only twenty-two more or so to go before she could take fifteen minutes for herself.

She left the curtained area and returned to the pit, where she checked the charts of waiting patients. Her head nurse, Janet, had prioritized them in order of urgency, so she only had to grab the top one and walk away. Heart palpitations in curtain five. Yep, that would be a priority.

She pushed the curtain aside and double-checked the chart. “Antonio Johnson?” She glanced at the African American kid sitting on the hospital bed. He looked no more than eighteen, although his chart gave his age as twenty-two, so why was he having heart issues? The kid offered her a weak smile as she stepped forward. “What brings you to my ER tonight?”

“He complained of chest pain and passed out at practice today.” A good-looking man with artfully messy dark hair in a charcoal-gray business suit and light blue tie, with a cell phone plastered to his ear, moved closer to Johnson. “I need to know. Is his football career over? Is it his heart?”