The Kincaids: Private Mergers. Tessa Radley

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not sticking around. I know that look in your eyes. You can’t save him. Rafe is a man with too many demons.”

      Gemma straightened. She wasn’t thinking about saving Rafe, but she could be a friend, one he sorely needed. If he could stop seeing her as his friend’s annoying kid sister, they could have a real relationship. “The look in my eyes is a look of concern. I am worried about you. I am worried about everyone on staff here. I am worried about my patients.” She threw up her hands and gestured around them. “I am worried about everyone in this town if we don’t find a cure.”

      Flint slid his arm around her shoulders. “I know you are. You have the warmest heart I’ve ever met, except for maybe Gram Dottie.”

      At the mention of their grandmother, Gemma’s heart fell. “I’m worried about her,” Gemma said. Their grandmother had contracted the virus and had been admitted to the virus wing because her case was severe. Gram Dottie was tough, but the virus was proving tougher. As yet, not a single person had recovered.

      “Me too,” Flint said. He kissed the top of his sister’s head. “Go help Rafe. He’s always been rough around the edges, but he’s smart. I’ve got my money on you and him to find the cure.”

      Gemma was doing everything she could, but virology and epidemiology weren’t her fields of expertise. “We’ll find the cure. You find who did this,” Gemma said. She hugged her brother goodbye, smiling when she smelled Nina’s perfume on him. She was happy to know her brother finally had someone special in his life.

      Gemma returned to the clinic and put on her protective suit. She entered the virus wing, where she knew she’d find Rafe. She didn’t hear him over their comm system. He must have shut off his microphone.

      He was in one of their patients’ rooms. From his demeanor, if she hadn’t witnessed it herself, she wouldn’t have known he’d been upset. With his patients, he was warm and concerned. He joked with them, laughed with them and didn’t rush them, taking time to answer questions at length. With the influx of critical cases, they were short on time, but Rafe didn’t make anyone feel that way. He had an easy way about him that was disarming.

      Rafe was the only doctor on staff who drew patients’ blood samples. Dr. Goodhue, Dr. Rand and Dr. Moore always called for a nurse to take care of the task. It was another way in which Rafe was different. From the time Gemma had started working at the clinic, she was an assistant to the doctors. Rafe didn’t make her feel like she was helping him. When they worked together, she felt she was pulling her weight and making important contributions.

      Gemma entered the room and Rafe glanced over his shoulder at her. “How can I help?” She had to speak loudly for Rafe to hear her over the venting in his suit.

      “We need samples from each of our patients,” Rafe said.

      He was accustomed to giving orders. His tone was mellow, but Gemma heard the edge and the command.

      Carter Saunders, a wrangler in his midforties, struggled to sit up. “Have you made any progress on a cure?”

      Rafe hadn’t told Carter about the break-in and fire at the clinic. They needed to keep their patients’ spirits high. Rafe had undertaken the project to make their patients more comfortable, setting up video streaming on-demand via the small televisions in the rooms and providing e-readers for patients. He’d also configured video conferencing software on laptops so patients could see and talk with their families during their extended time in isolation. His kindness touched her and his savvy with technology impressed her.

      “Every day, we’re getting closer,” Rafe said.

      “Can I bring you anything while I’m here?” Gemma asked Carter. Since the outbreak, the clinic had taken to serving food around the clock to their patients. The Dead River Café and the Blue Bear Restaurant were dropping off soup and meals for the patients and staff daily. It was an unexpected and welcome convenience. The clinic hadn’t been constructed to provide food service, and without an on-site kitchen, Gemma guessed she and the other nurses would be heating canned soups over Bunsen burners for their patients.

      “Some more water,” Carter said.

      “I’ll be right back,” Gemma said. She retrieved water from the small sink in Carter’s room. Though the patients had confirmed cases of the Dead River virus, they were confined to their rooms to prevent the spread of symptoms.

      Gemma sat with Carter for a few minutes, and as he dozed off to sleep, she and Rafe slipped from the room. The Dead River virus was exhausting for patients to fight. Some slept fifteen to sixteen hours a day. Keeping them hydrated and eating enough nutrients was a challenge.

      Rafe typed notes on Carter’s chart and Gemma moved to the next room.

      Tammy Flynn, their youngest patient, a six-year-old girl, was watching television in her room when Gemma entered. Her parents video-conferenced with her several times a day, but the separation was taking its toll. Tammy had grown close to Gemma and Gemma had “adopted” her as her temporary daughter.

      Thinking about what the virus was doing to families broke her heart. Gemma didn’t allow her patients to see her break down, but some nights, she returned home and did just that. The Dead River virus had brought so much heartache to this town.

      “Hey, Tammy,” Gemma said, coming to the girl’s bedside.

      “I have a gift for you,” Rafe said, entering the room behind Gemma.

      He handed Tammy a shiny pink gift bag. Tammy’s eyes grew wide and she opened it, pulling out plastic beakers and tongs and a pair of goggles.

      “This is awesome!” The little girl held up a plastic beaker with the tongs.

      “That’s really cool,” Gemma said, surprised at Rafe’s thoughtfulness. When had he had time to acquire such a gift and how?

      “I told you I would bring some lab equipment so you could help me,” Rafe said.

      Was she hearing the conversation properly? As distant and cool as Rafe was with everyone in Dead River, he had certainly allowed Tammy into his heart. It was touching and Gemma wondered how detached Rafe was able to stay.

      “Please show me what to do,” Tammy said, sounding excited.

      “We’ll set it up,” Rafe said.

      With a couple pitchers of water and some food coloring, Tammy was conducting her own study. She fell asleep with her beakers lined up on the slim table next to her bed.

      After they left the room, Rafe took notes on the laptop in the hallway to update Tammy’s case. The notes would be sent electronically to their record system in the main clinic and uploaded to the CDC at the end of the week.

      “That was really nice of you,” Gemma said. It wasn’t the first gift Rafe had brought Tammy or the other patients. The staff tried to think of activities to keep boredom and cabin fever at bay. Rafe had a knack for coming up with games for Tammy to play.

      “Danny helped me put it together,” Rafe said. “I told him about Tammy and he thought of it.”

      Danny was Rafe’s foster son. Rafe mentioned him often, though he didn’t delve into much detail about him. The few times Gemma had tried to draw him out, Rafe hadn’t taken the bait.

      “I’ll

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