allowed her to open his mouth.
Pressing down on his tongue with her thumb, Victoria slid the catheter deep until it tapped something hard that did not feel at all like the walls of the mouth or throat. She pressed her finger over the hole in the neck of the hard plastic catheter to concentrate the suction into the tip, pressed against the hard object very carefully, and gave a little tug. Like a cork had been released, Mr. Schultz sucked in a huge, gasping breath. Then another and another. A coarse but wonderful sound.
Relief made Victoria’s legs weak.
Tears streamed from Mr. Schultz’s eyes.
Careful to maintain full suction so the obstructing object did not loosen from the tip and fall back into the patient’s throat, Victoria eased back on the catheter. A bright red ball of candy stuck to the end.
Victoria blew out a breath.
“You did good,” Kyle said.
Mr. Schultz took her hand and held it to his cheek. She patted his shoulder with her other hand. “You’re very welcome.”
Victoria hit the button for the intercom to contact the unit secretary. “Nora, is Ali back on the floor?”
“She’s heading my way right now.”
“Tell her Mr. Schultz just choked on a hard candy. He’s okay. We’re going to get him into bed. She needs to call his physician and come take a set of vitals.
“Would you help me … ?” When Victoria turned back to the patient Kyle already had him sitting on the side of the bed. She rushed over to lift his swollen feet and together they pulled him up in bed, although Kyle did most of the work. Then she raised the head of the bed.
“I’m going to talk to your daughter, Mr. Schultz.” She put up all four side rails and put the patient’s call-bell in his left hand. “Push this button …” she demonstrated “ … if you need anything before I get back.”
He nodded and gave her a small half-smile using the facial muscles not affected by his stroke.
“Thank you for your help, Kyle.” He followed her to the door.
“Still perfect in everything you do, huh?”
“Hardly.”
He took her by the arm. She turned to face him. He leaned in until his mouth grazed her ear. “For the record, my thrusts are always effective. And hard and fast suits me just fine.”
Typical. He’d taken her Heimlich instruction and turned it into something sexual. She didn’t respond, would not be provoked. She simply looked down at his hand on her arm. He released her and she walked out of the room.
After discussing the prescribed dietary restrictions with Mr. Schultz’s daughter and supervising the removal of all the remaining hard candies, Victoria left the patient in her best friend and Mr. Schultz’s nurse Ali’s capable hands, surprised to see Kyle waiting for her in the hallway.
His eyes seemed softer somehow, not as antagonistic as they’d been. But she refused to let down her guard until she found out why he’d come back to town.
“Nothing better to do with your time?” she asked.
“He okay?” Kyle tossed his chin in the direction of Mr. Schultz’s room.
“Much better.”
“You?”
“Fine.” For a split second she appreciated his concern. Until a suspicion he was up to something pushed its way in. Why was he being so nice all of a sudden?
Nora called down the hallway, “Victoria, if you don’t leave in the next five minutes, you’ll be late to pick up Jake.”
She cringed at the sound of her son’s name blurted out in Kyle’s presence. The less he knew about Jake the better. She glanced at her watch. “Fudge.”
“Still can’t say what’s really on your mind,” Kyle taunted.
“Lucky for you,” Victoria replied, then yelled to Nora, “Thanks.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Kyle offered, falling into step beside her, his dog beside him.
“Don’t bother.” She hurried up the hallway. “I’ve been walking since I was a child and am perfectly capable of doing it on my own.” Apparently that didn’t matter. She ducked into her office, grabbed her purse, briefcase, already packed with work she needed to do at home, and coat. Kyle stood propped up against the wall beside her door. She ignored him and headed for the stairs.
“I think I’m allergic to your dog.” She pushed out what she hoped were a few convincing coughs. “Would you mind keeping your distance?” Why was he back now, after all these years, when she’d finally regained control of her life? Dread balled in her gut.
She yanked open the heavy metal door, his hand landed a few feet above hers and suddenly the door weighed nothing.
“Since we’re going to be working together I think there’re a few things we need to work through,” he said.
Victoria hurried down the first flight of metal stairs, each pounding step echoing in the empty stairwell. She did not want to work through anything with him, could not get away from him quick enough … or fast enough.
He jogged a few steps behind her.
“To start with,” he proceeded despite her silence, “why did you tell that crooked sheriff I raped you?”
Raped her? She stumbled, glanced over her shoulder. “Are you insane? I never …” The words died in her throat as she missed a step. Maybe two. Her right foot hit hard. Her ankle twisted at an awkward angle, her knee buckled. She grabbed for the railing, missed, screamed out as her forward momentum sent her diving toward the fourth-floor landing.
Tori barked in warning.
Kyle lunged forward, caught Victoria by the back of her lab coat and, thank you, God, slowed her fall just enough so he could hook an arm around her waist milliseconds before she face-planted onto cement. Sitting on the bottom step, breathing heavily, part exertion, part fear, she could have been seriously injured. He cradled her on his lap and rested his chin on her silky curls, giving his pulse a chance to slow. As much as she deserved to pay for what she’d done, Kyle had no desire to see her physically hurt.
“You’re okay,” he said to reassure himself as much as to reassure her.
There were names for men like him, and they weren’t ones Victoria would want uttered within her hearing. Why, after that terrifying choking incident and when she was obviously in a rush, did he have to lob the question that’d been dragging down his subconscious for nine long years at her back, where she couldn’t see it coming? And within minutes of their meeting up again.
She tried to scoot off his lap.
“Sit for a minute,” he said, inhaling the scent of melon, sweet cantaloupe grown in the warm sun, picked from the vine at peak ripeness. She’d always smelled good. Clean. Fresh. Different from the beer-drinking, cigarette-smoking,
