Free After the Christmas Party by Janice Lynn

Trinity’s expense. Why had she stayed in Memphis so long after that horrible Christmas? Had she purposely been punishing herself for being so stupid as to put her hopes in a man? At least she hadn’t started drinking, the way her mother had after being deserted by Trinity’s father.
    She should have removed herself from the situation much sooner. She hadn’t wanted to run but, really, after her mother’s death she’d had no ties. She should have left. Next time she’d know.
    Next time?
    Was she already planning for the demise of any relationship between her and Riley? Whatever that relationship might be. She really didn’t have a clue what he wanted from her.
    If he’d just wanted sex, wouldn’t he have knocked the night before instead of talking to her into the wee morning hours?
    Riley tapped on the patient’s door then entered the private cardiac room. “Good morning, Mr. Ryker.”
    The man stretched out in his bed smiled at Riley and then at Trinity. A clear tube ran around his face with a nasal cannula delivering oxygen. Multiple wires and leads were attached at various points to his body.
    “Your nurse tells me that you’re ready to dance a jig and you want to blow this joint as soon as possible. That so?”
    Not her exact words.
    “If it would get me home earlier, I’d dance a jig ortwo,” the heavy set man admitted, raising the head of his bed and scooting up, wincing a little as he did so. “Other than the pain in my chest and leg from being cut open, I feel great.”
    “If all goes well today, I’ll release you to go home tomorrow morning and see you back in the office in a week or so.”
    The man’s wife, who’d been sitting quietly in a chair next to his hospital bed, got wide-eyed. “You’re going to let him go home that soon? Is that safe?”
    “If everything goes as expected today, yes, I am. It’s safe for him to go home. Actually, the sooner I can get him home, the less risk there is of secondary infections such as a resistant strain of staph or C. diff.”
    “Oh,” the woman blanched and she pushed a heavy-framed pair of glasses up the bridge of her nose. “What if something else happens? I won’t know how to take care of him.”
    “If it’s a problem, we can have a home health agency come out and dress his chest wounds and the surgical site on his leg. But, honestly, he should be fine as long as he doesn’t overdo it.”
    The woman’s relief was evident.
    “But the first thing we have to do is get you through today.” Riley placed his stethoscope on the man’s chest, moving the diaphragm from spot to spot to listen to the man’s heart sounds.
    “Can you tell if the bypass is taking, based on what you hear?” the man asked, looking concerned. “I keep wondering what I’d do if my heart rejected the graft.”
    “That’s unlikely to happen as it’s your own tissue. But no worries, we’ll take another look at the bloodflow via an echocardiogram to make sure everything is working properly. You’re in good hands.”
    Trinity wouldn’t argue with Riley’s claim. He did have good hands. Expert hands that worked magic with hearts.
    Which, of course, made her wonder about what those hands were going to do to her heart.
    Or should she even worry about that since Chase had tattered it to shreds and despite her move she knew there were only broken pieces where once a strong heart used to beat?
    Maybe she was immune to Riley hurting her because she didn’t have a heart left to be broken.
    Somehow she doubted that because already she knew she’d miss him terribly if he left her life.
    That scared her more than she cared to admit. Maybe she should run while she still could.
    Only could she, even if she wanted to?

CHAPTER SIX
    “T HIS ISN’T DINNER,” Trinity pointed out when Riley pulled into the crowded mall parking lot that evening. Although he looked handsome in khakis and a polo and was in way too good a mood to have worked all day, she was still in her scrubs,