Carol Grace - Falling For The Sheik

Tomorrow a big group of his friends would arrive. That ought to help him out of his funk, but sometimes he felt even lonelier in a crowd. He missed Lisa’s laughter. He kept thinking of the things they’d planned to do together. Take a safari in East Africa, take up snowboarding, bicycle through France. He could still do those things, but what was the point of doing them alone?

His brother wasn’t available anymore, either. Rafik had recently gotten married which had left a big hole in his brother’s life. Not that he didn’t like his brother’s wife. He did. But everything was different now that Rafik had someone to share his life.

With the sun gone behind the mountain the light had changed. There were no more shadows, no way to see the dips in the snow. The landscape became featureless and indistinct. His skis clattered when they hit the frozen snow. Then they skittered. He was going too fast and he was out of control. The ground rose up to meet him and he tumbled head over heels down…down…down. The wind whistled in his ears, the snow clung to his skin. His head felt like a rubber ball banging against an icy cement floor.

When he finally came to a halt, only a few feet from a snow-covered oak tree, every bone in his body felt shattered by the impact. He lay spread-eagled, facedown in a drift of snow, waiting for the pain to subside. Rahman wondered where his skis were. His new parabolic skis that allowed him to ski better than he’d ever skied before. The skis with the excellent bindings that released so he hadn’t seriously hurt himself.

His mouth and his ears were full of snow and he ached all over, but he was okay. He was fine. Just a little sore and a little woozy. Fortunately his poles were still attached to his wrists. In a minute he’d get up and look for the skis then he’d ski down the hill and quit for the day. As soon as his head cleared and he caught his breath…He gave himself more than a minute. More than five minutes. Then he lifted his head, braced his arms against the ground and felt a spear of pain go through his chest.

Through a haze he realized he wasn’t going to ski down the hill after all. He lifted his head and tried to yell for help, but the only sound that came from his lips was a moan.

The Northstar Home Health Agency of Pine Grove, California, looked more like a ski chalet with its peaked roof covered in snow and interior of knotty pine. It was as warm and cheerful as the owner and manager, Rosie Dixon, who beamed at her friend Amanda from behind her desk.

“Have I got a job for you!” Rosie said.

“Already? I haven’t even unpacked my suitcase.”

“I told you this is the land of opportunity. The golden state.” Rosie spread her arms out wide. “Why else did you come?”

Why indeed? Why had Amanda quit her excellent job in Chicago and come running to this mountain community, two thousand miles away? There was only one reason. One big reason. Rosie didn’t know and Amanda didn’t plan on telling her. It was too embarrassing, too shameful, too awful.

“Because you finally came to your senses, that’s why,” Rosie said, always helpful, answering her own question. “I’ve been telling you to leave Chicago for years. I knew you’d love it here. It’s paradise.”

Love it? Paradise? Amanda looked out the window at the red-cheeked people walking down the main street wearing trendy wool caps, carrying skis over their shoulders and at the outline of the mountains in the background. Sure, she was used to snow in the winter, but not this altitude. She didn’t ski, she didn’t climb. Maybe she’d love it here, maybe she wouldn’t. At this point it didn’t matter, because she needed a change. She needed a change desperately. And Rosie had offered it to her.

We’re short on nurses, physical therapists, you name it. We’re short on all kinds of trained professionals. We’ve got plenty of waitresses and lift operators. College kids who are taking off for a year to ski, she’d said. But they’re no help. Not to me. Not to the patients.

“What is it?” Amanda asked, slipping out of her winter jacket.

“What is what? Oh, the job, the job. It’s a real challenge. Just what you said you wanted. A ski injury. Punctured lung, broken ankle, concussion, a few other complications. Still in the hospital, but champing at the bit to go home and recuperate. But home is in San Francisco so the alternative is to go to the family ski cabin. Doc says no, gotta stay in the hospital, patient says I’m outta here. I say if he agrees to the ski cabin I’ll get him a private duty nurse. Not just any private duty nurse. Somebody with years of experience in trauma and intensive care. Somebody who’s seen it all and done it all…” Rosie stood up and gestured dramatically. “My roommate and best friend from nursing school—Amanda Reston…ta da!”

Amanda admired her friend’s exuberance. How long was it since she’d been that upbeat about anything? Rosie was right about one thing. Amanda had seen it all and done it all. That was why she was here. She couldn’t do it anymore. Not there. Not with Dr. Benjamin Sandler in charge of her department. Either he had to leave or she did. She knew he wouldn’t leave. Why should he? It obviously didn’t bother him to see her every day at work the way it bothered her. And in her heart she knew it was time for her to move on. Then came Rosie’s call. The same call she made every year, twice a year or more. But this time, more urgent, more insistent.

Come to California. See what it’s like. Give it a chance. You need a change. And we need you.

So she was here. Reunited with her old friend and roommate. Despite marriage and twins, Rosie hadn’t changed much from the days when they’d been unable to study in the same room without erupting in giggles every five minutes. Rosie was just as exuberant as ever, but Amanda felt as if the fun had been drained out of her in the last year and a half. No, she wasn’t here for the skiing or the scenery or the climbing or the clear, clean air. She was here to get her self back on track. To find what she’d lost back there in Chicago’s Memorial Hospital—trust, hope, and a fresh outlook on life. Did Rosie know all that? If she did, she’d never let on.

“But if the doctor says he should be hospitalized, he must still be in pretty bad shape,” Amanda said, getting back to the subject of the patient.

“Oh, yes.” Rose looked over the papers on her desk. “I’d say so. He’s pretty much immobilized and has a chest tube insertion.”

“No wonder the doctor doesn’t want him to leave the hospital. When was the accident?” Amanda asked.

“A week ago. And it’s been chaotic in our little hospital ever since. Friends, relatives…”

“Well, that’s normal.”

“Friends, relatives flying in from all over the globe? Ignoring the posted visiting hours? Partying in the hall? Is that normal? Not here it isn’t. Not to mention catered meals, loud music coming from his room. Definitely not normal. Oh, yes, we have the occasional hot dogger who busts out of his room and tries to go back up to the slopes as soon as he’s conscious, but this is different. This guy happens to be a sheik. He has money and money talks.”

“A sheik as in desert tents, harems and camels?” Amanda asked.

“A sheik as in oil money, private school education, and stunning good looks, too, according to the nurses at the hospital. I haven’t seen him myself, just talked to him on the phone.” Rosie sighed. “That was enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, the man knows what he wants and he wants to go home. He doesn’t seem to realize how sick he really is. That he’s lucky to be allowed to leave the hospital so soon. Their ski cabin is not what you or I would call a cabin. It’s a house on the lake which is big enough to house the entire extended family of sheiks and then some. According to family members, there’s a live-in housekeeper and a suite with a private entrance available for the nurse. Let’s hope the man has come to his senses and realizes he can’t go back to San Francisco with a chest tube between his ribs.”