Free Winds of Fortune by Radclyffe Page A

back-up arrives.”
    “Yes ma’am.” Allie glanced at Bri. “Uh, do you think when you get a break someone could call—”
    “I’ll contact you with an update.” Reese clapped Bri’s shoulder briskly. “Let’s go, Officer. We’ve got work to do.”
    Bri twitched as if she were awakening from a dream and took a long shuddering breath. Clasping Caroline’s hand tightly, she said, “Yes ma’am. I’m ready.”

    *

    “Tory’s on the phone,” Randy said as Nita stepped out of a patient exam room. “She says it’s urgent.”
    “I’ll take it in the office. Thanks.”
    Nita scribbled a note into the chart and tossed it onto the dictation pile. Then she grabbed the phone.
    “Tory? It’s Nita.” Frowning, she held the phone in one hand and flipped through the next patient chart on her desk with the other. “Don’t even think about leaving until the situation is stabilized.” She sighed. “Tory, I don’t mind working another shift. That’s why I’m here…How do things look?…Damn, Okay…call me later, then. Thanks.”
    Aware that Randy hovered in the doorway, Nita traded the phone for the file folder marked Joey Torres and joined him. After checking that the hallway was clear, she said quietly, “Tory’s fine.” She lowered her voice. “Nelson Parker has had an MI. Keep it quiet for now, okay?”
    “Oh hell,” Randy replied. “Let me know if you hear anything?”
    “I will.” Nita indicated the chart. “I’ll be in doing a wound check on Joey.”
    When she entered the procedure room, it looked like an instant replay of the day before, except this time Pia had joined the party. Sally, still laughing at something, laid out clean dressings and splint material on an instrument tray. Joey sat sideways on the procedure table, his injured right hand cradled against his chest in a sling. Pia stood next to him, her hip propped against the edge of the table. The person who held Nita’s attention, however, was Deo Camara.
    Today Deo wore faded blue jeans that hugged her narrow hips and a faded grey T-shirt with the sleeves torn off. The neckline was ripped down the center, and Nita thought she glimpsed the soft swell of a smooth, creamy breast. She quickly averted her gaze, but she saw that Deo was smiling in a way that said she knew exactly where Nita had been looking. Annoyance at having given Deo more than a glance and, worse, having Deo catch her at it, set her on edge. She hated that Deo could throw her off stride with just a look. Deliberately, she turned away from Deo and smiled at Joey.
    “How are you feeling?”
    “Terrible.” Joey feigned a pained expression. “I think I might need three or four months off.”
    Deo laughed. “Like hell. You’re not spending the summer on the beach.”
    “Let’s have a look.” Nita kept her back to Deo, whose deep rich voice reminded Nita of hot summer air on a lazy August afternoon. That wasn’t all Deo reminded her of, and that was the real problem. Deo actually looked nothing like Sylvia, who had been the epitome of blue-eyed, blond beauty, but they shared the same seething sensuality. And apparently, if her racing pulse were any indication, she was still susceptible to such empty charms.
    With effort, Nita put Deo out of her mind and, after donning sterile gloves, carefully removed the bandages from Joey’s hand. Pia watched from nearby.
    “Incisions look good,” Nita reported. “There’s anticipated swelling, but nothing out of the ordinary. Finger position indicates the tendon repairs are intact.”
    “What do you think about a functional splint?” Pia asked. “I’ll keep the affected fingers blocked for now so there won’t be any motion, but we’ll be ready for a little bit of gentle ranging in a few days.”
    “All right. Sally can get you what you need if you want to fashion the splint yourself.”
    While Pia worked on the splint, Nita re-bandaged the injured fingers and quickly recorded a chart note. On her way out into the