Free Lightning Strikes Part 2 (36 Hours) by Mary Lynn Baxter Page A

through Amanda. Why did she continue to fish in that pond? What did she care if he’d fathered ten kids? But she did, and that was what rankled more than anything.
    “Amanda, what’s wrong?”
    “I have to go.” Her tone was sullen.
    “Don’t.” He put out his hand as if to touch her, only to draw pointedly back. “I mean-dammit, we can’t keep—”
    “Dr. Jennings, you’re needed at the station.”
    “Damn,” Noah murmured for her ears alone.
    “Some guy’s calling from a cab,” Liz Roberts said, having joined her and Noah.
    “What does that have to do with me?” Amanda asked.
    “He says the woman in his cab is about to have a baby. He sounds absolutely frantic.”
    “Oh, Lord.” Amanda rolled her eyes. “I’m coming. But call Petrocelli and if possible have him on standby.”
    “You ladies have fun,” Noah said, turning and heading down the hall.
    “He’s got some tush, you know.”
    Jerking her head up, Amanda gave Liz a shocked look. “Why, Liz Roberts!”
    “Well, he does. And while I might be old, I can still see. But then, I guess you would know about his tush better than—” Then, as if she realized what and to whom she was speaking, Liz’s teeth clamped down on her lower lip.
    “I think we’d best get to work,” Amanda said on an unsteady note. Right now, she didn’t know who she wanted to throttle more—Noah for turning her life upside down or Liz Roberts for flaunting his assets in her face.
    “Doctor, this cab driver’s about to have a cow. I hope you can understand him.”
    “I hope he didn’t hear you say that, Jerry,” Amanda said, glaring at the orderly before snatching the receiver out of his hand. “This is Dr. Jennings.”
    * * *
    Some time later, Amanda rubbed her bloodshot eyes. Even that effort was almost too much. If she hadn’t been leaning against the front desk, her rubbery knees might have caved in. The fact that Noah was walking down the hall didn’t help any.
    Why didn’t he stay in the OR where he belonged?
    “Way to go, Doc!” Jerry was saying.
    “I second that!” Another voice chimed in.
    Liz grinned. “You did good.”
    “Can anyone join the celebration?” Noah asked.
    Oh, Lord, Amanda thought, not him again. “There’s nothing to celebrate.” She forced herself not to react at his nearness. “Don’t pay any attention to these clowns.”
    “Wrong,” Beth said. “There is too something to celebrate. How `bout a round of applause for the good doctor?”
    Before Amanda could put a quietus on their enthusiasm, the ER staff began clapping.
    “Take a bow!” Jerry demanded.
    Amanda shook her head and held up her hand. “Cut it out, all right?”
    “Well, you did get that poor man out of a jam,” Liz said. “Can you imagine having to deliver a baby in the back of a cab?”
    “You’re joking?” Noah asked with a grin.
    Her breath faltered. When he smiled, it reminded her of the sun breaking through a dark cloud.
    “No, I’m not joking,” Amanda said stiffly, putting distance between them.
    “She gave him step-by-step instructions over the two-way radio.” Liz was beaming. “Even though everyone seems to be all right, they’re on the way here for observation.”
    “Way to go, Dr. Jennings,” Noah said, still smiling.
    His gaze burned into her. She felt as if he’d actually touched her. “Enough, already,” she said. “Back to work, and that’s an order.”
    “Dr. Jennings!”
    At the sound of the frantic and unexpected voice, they all swung around. Two nurses from the psychiatric ward were running down the hall. Amanda stepped forward, a bad feeling invading the pit of her stomach. “What’s wrong?”
    “One of our patients cut his wrist. A Tommy Drapper,” the redheaded nurse said.
    “Do you need me to stitch it up?”
    “No,” the other nurse cried. “We need you to help find him.”
    “Find him?” Noah’s voice sounded hard. “What does that mean?”
    “He’s…missing. Oh, God—”
    “Okay, slow