Officer, Surgeon…Gentleman!. Janice Lynn
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When a Stockton gave their heart, they gave it forever.
“I’m glad to hear they’re doing well,” Cole said, pulling Amelia back to the present, moving closer to where she and Tracy stood.
Although she couldn’t possibly really smell him, she’d swear her nostrils filled with the musky scent of his skin, a scent once so familiar to her that, again, she was swamped by unwanted memories of when he’d starred in a daily role in her life.
“Your parents must be proud.”
Amelia didn’t answer. All four Stockton children had been raised to never show weakness to the enemy. Clara had put on a good front when Cole had dumped her, but privately her overachieving sister hadn’t been able to “Suck it up and move on,” as their father advised in any given situation. If she had, she’d have moved on, dated. Clara hadn’t. There’d been no one since Cole. Amelia’s heart ached at the enormity of her sister’s pain, and her role in it. At her own pain. All at the mercy of this man’s careless hand.
The others in the sick ward eyed them as if observing a ping-pong match. Cole’s gaze bore into Amelia, waiting, but for what she didn’t have a clue. For her to melt under his intense blue laser vision? For her to tense to the point she cracked into a thousand pieces?
Ha, he could wait until hell froze over.
She’d had enough.
“We’ve patients to see,” she reminded the crew. “A full schedule this morning.” She turned to the corpsman who eyed Cole with a bit of hero-worship. She recalled the look well. “Richard, since you and Dr Stanley are acquainted, why don’t you show him the surgery suite? I’m sure it’s similar to ones he’s worked from in the past, but he’ll want to familiarize himself with his new workstation and our equipment before getting started in the morning.”
Cole’s gaze lingered on her, but Amelia refused to meet his eyes again. Later, no doubt, they’d talk. Not that she wanted to talk to him. But how would they avoid doing so when they’d be forced to work together for the length of their deployment?
How would she deal with him at such close quarters? Although there were five thousand crew members aboard the aircraft carrier when the air wing was on board, she wouldn’t be able to keep from interacting with Cole. Not in the medical ward.
What were the odds of being stuck in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with the last man on earth she’d ever wanted to see again?
And yet, even with that thought, she couldn’t deny that she’d always known their paths would cross again.
How could it not when they’d left so much unfinished business between them?
Amelia Stockton in the flesh shamed Cole’s memory of John Stockton’s middle daughter. How had he forgotten how her melted-chocolate eyes sparkled with intelligence? How her high cheekbones accented her heart-shaped face? How her dark hair beckoned his fingers to free the upswept locks? How just being near her turned his insides outward?
No, he hadn’t forgotten that. Neither had he forgotten how fiercely loyal the Stockton siblings were, how they’d been trained to be soldier tough from the time they’d worn diapers. Although Amelia’s father had been civil when their paths had crossed recently, Cole suspected the majority of the Stocktons despised him.
All but Clara.
Then again, his former fiancée was the only one who knew the truth of what had transpired between them.
Cole stepped into the privacy of the surgical suite just off the sick ward, wondering if he’d really known what he was getting himself into when he’d finagled the assignment on board the USS Benjamin Franklin. He’d thought he had, but now, after seeing Amelia again, he had to wonder at his logic. Had he made a horrible miscalculation?
“I thought that went surprisingly well, considering.”
He glanced at the corpsman serving as his guide. “Considering?”
Had word already gotten out? The military community, especially the military medical community, was small, but surely his and Clara’s wedding fiasco hadn’t been such a hot topic that two years later folks were still talking about it?
“Considering you obviously upset Dr Stockton in a former life.”
“Obviously,” Cole muttered, knowing exactly what he’d done that had upset the lovely Dr Stockton and wishing circumstances had been different, that their relationship hadn’t taken the disastrous course it had. Tagging along with him and Clara, frequently working beside him during residency, she’d been like the kid sister he’d never had. Only, his feelings for his fiancée’s little sister had developed into something much more intense than those of a big brother.
Something so intense that no matter how he’d tried fighting those feelings, how long he’d denied them, he’d had to face facts. He had been engaged to the wrong Stockton daughter. He’d wanted Amelia. Deep down, all-consuming, wanted her with a passion he’d never felt before or since.
“She’s usually even-keeled,” Richard continued, looking intrigued. He crossed his arms, leaning against the bulkhead. “I’ve never seen her lose her cool, or even come close as she almost did when you walked into the sick bay. Honestly, I didn’t think anyone could rattle her infamous Stockton stoicism. What happened?”
“Between Dr Stockton and I? Nothing.” Cole took in his shipmate’s “yeah, right” expression and clarified. Better to get his version of the truth out before the rumor mill started something nasty that would add fire to Amelia’s hatred toward him.
“I was engaged to her older sister. It didn’t work out.”
Didn’t work out. Such an understatement, but what had happened between Clara and himself wasn’t his secret to tell. He’d promised he’d never reveal that she’d been the one to call off their wedding. Yes, only because she’d beaten him to it, but she had spoken up before he had. She’d also sworn him to secrecy. Cole hadn’t told a soul. Not even Amelia when he’d gone to her that night, desperately wanting to explain, to beg her to forgive him.
“You were engaged to Clara Stockton?” Richard whistled, looking impressed. “How come I never knew that?”
Cole shrugged.
“I met her, when I was inland. She was stationed nearby and joined several of us for drinks.” He whistled again. “She’s a looker.”
“Yes,” he agreed. Clara was a beautiful woman. On the day they’d met, she’d charmed him with her smile, her intelligence, her inherent toughness that was so in contradiction of her beauty-queen looks. She’d had a passion for medicine that matched his own and had professed to want the same things out of life. For the first time, he’d connected—really connected—with a woman.
For the first time, he’d felt a part of a family.
A wonderful, admirable family that would take on the world to protect each other.
Or to keep from disappointing each other.
Cole had longed for such a family his whole life. To be a part of something so strong.