Lisa Jordan - Lakeside Reunion

“Let me go so I can get to the hospital.” And out of Shelby Lake as fast as possible.

He stepped back, nodding. She waited a moment for a “nice to see you” or even “want to get a cup of coffee?” But it didn’t come.

It would never come.

Because some things simply couldn’t be fixed.

Stephen jammed himself behind the wheel of the cruiser. Thunking his head against the headrest, he groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face.

The life he put back together piece by piece during the past five years scattered like Ty’s bucket of Legos with a single glimpse of her.

Seeing Lindsey stole his breath. He expected a middle-aged woman driving the late ‘80s blue Ford Taurus. Not his former fiancée.

Wow. She looked amazing. Time had only done her favors. Her hair still looked like the sunrise over the lake, and how he longed to touch it. Weave it through his fingers. It was shorter, although he liked it above her shoulders. Made her look less like a teenager, more like a woman. A woman who hated him. He needed to keep that fact in the center of his thoughts.

The police band chattered in the background, reminding him to radio dispatch and let them know he was back in service. But he tuned it out for a minute. He needed to regroup—force his hands to stop shaking and bring his thudding heart under control. A cold sweat slicked his face. He lowered the window. The crisp breeze fanned his clammy skin.

His cell phone vibrated against his hip. He released it from the belt holster and glanced at the display. His sister. He flipped it open. “Hey, Mel. What’s up?”

“Stephen, why are you answering your phone? You’re on duty.”

“Uh, you called me?”

“An eye for detail, as always.”

“Mel …”

“Okay, okay. Listen, I didn’t expect to talk to you. I mean, I called, but I figured I’d get your voice mail. Nate and I are grilling tonight. With friends. Why don’t you and Ty join us?”

“Which friends? It’s supposed to rain tonight.”

“The patio is covered. Bring a sweatshirt. Oliver and Amy are coming. And, well, Ginger, a new girl in our morning Bible study who could use someone to show her around.”

“Isn’t there a church rule that says pastors’ wives are forbidden to torture their brothers with their not-so-subtle matchmaking schemes?”

“Hey, I’m not doing anything of the sort.”

“Leave the matchmaking to the Tea Grannies, Mel.” He referred to the group of five ladies in his church who felt it was their God-gifted mission to make sure the singles in the church were paired up—whether they wanted to be or not.

“I just thought … well, it’s been almost a year.”

“Forget it. Not. Interested.” Knowing she was only trying to help, he softened his tone so he didn’t sound so much like a jerk. “Thanks, anyway. I need to get back to work.”

“Well, stop by and grab something to eat.”

“Maybe.” He hesitated, not sure if he should say anything yet, but she’d find out soon enough. “Hey, Mel. Uh, Lindsey’s back in town.”

“What? When? How do you know?”

“Someone called in a lurker down by the welcome sign. Had to check it out. Turned out to be Lindsey. Apparently Grace Porter fell and broke her leg.”

“You’ve seen her. Oh, Stephen … I’m so … How are you doing? I mean, seeing her must have been … wow, like a total shock or something.”

“That would be the understatement of three lifetimes. Listen, I really have to go. Call Ma, will you? I’m sure she’ll want to know about Grace.”

“Yeah, sure. As soon as Nate’s done with his sermon prep, we’ll head to the hospital to check on Grace. Maybe I can catch Lindsey. Call me later if, you know, you want to talk or anything.”

Stephen snapped the phone shut and dropped it on the seat beside him.

Life couldn’t be easy, could it?

Today was supposed to be like every other—wake up, drop Tyler off at school, head to the station. Since his wife’s death almost a year ago, juggling his responsibilities—single parenthood, law enforcement officer, upholding the family honor—without screwing up too badly consumed his waking hours.

And now Melissa had it in her head that he needed to date again. Was she crazy? He could barely keep his head above water as it was. Forget about romance.

Unless …

Stephen shook his head. Don’t even think about it. Lindsey hated him. He could see it in her thick-lashed, look-at-me green eyes. She had every right to never want to see him again.

Five years was a long time. She was probably involved with someone. Possibly even married. No, he would’ve heard if that had happened.

The thought of her with another guy twisted his gut. Yet, he had no right. His stupidity was the reason they weren’t together anymore. What she had been up to for the past five years was no longer any of his business. Plus, it wasn’t as if he would have been at the top of her must-see list. Girls really didn’t like to hang out with the guys who crushed their hearts.

He was an idiot. Of gigantic proportions.

He needed to get a grip. He had a job to do.

His cell phone vibrated again. Probably Melissa letting him know she talked to Ma. He grabbed it and answered. “Chase.”

“Mr. Chase, this is Carolyn Patry, the school nurse at Shelby Lake Elementary. I’m afraid there’s been a little accident.”

“What sort of accident?” A child wailed in the background. Familiar sobs that knifed his insides. “What’s wrong with Tyler?”

“He and another child collided while playing indoor soccer in gym class. Tyler fell and hurt his arm. I’m afraid it may be broken. He needs medical attention. Would you like me to call the paramedics, or do you want to take him to the emergency room?”

“I’ll take him. I’m on my way.” He ended the call, radioed the station to let them know where he was headed and shifted the patrol car into Drive. He pulled away from the shoulder, spitting gravel beneath the tires.

A broken arm wasn’t life-threatening. But the poor kid’d had a rough year and didn’t need anything else to make it worse. Especially a trip to the hospital—a place they’d come to know all too well and hated.

What if he ran into Lindsey in the E.R.?

Second chances didn’t come along every day. Now that she was back in town, maybe, just maybe he could make amends—fix what he had broken in the past. Next time she left town, it wouldn’t be because of him. Or maybe, God willing, he’d make sure she never wanted to leave again.

Lindsey rushed into Shelby Lake Memorial’s emergency department. Her feet stopped at the edge of the rubber mat. The automatic doors hissed open and closed behind her. Her brain told her to move. But her legs … well, they refused to cooperate.

The stench of antiseptic saturated the air, coating the back of her throat and unleashing a flood of memories. Sea of blue uniforms swarming the waiting room. Mom’s body hunched in repetitious prayer. The waiting for word about Dad’s condition … praying for a miracle.

Beads of sweat dotted her upper lip and forehead. Inside her skin, her muscles tightened, nerve endings pulsed. Chills crawled across her flesh.

She couldn’t do it.

She couldn’t go back to the exam rooms, only to have the doctors say how sorry they were, but there was nothing more they could do. She couldn’t bear to listen to Mom’s griefstricken howls. Except, this time, those cries would be hers.

Ringing.

From the registration desk. Focus, girl .

Lindsey blinked a couple of times.

Emergency department.

Right.

Mom hadn’t been rushed to the O.R. with a bullet in her chest like Dad had been. She’d be fine. After all, who died from a broken leg?