hadn’t been able to see past his black leather jacket and motorcycle, but her brother had greeted Jack like an old friend. They’d met in prison—which did little to improve Abby’s opinion.
At the time, Jack had seemed so alien to all that was familiar. Since then, she’d never been able to shake that feeling of impending chaos. He threatened her secure world, adding to her concerns for her brother who was trying to rebuild his life after serving time in prison for violating federal safety code regulations.
Abby frowned, recalling that tumultuous time.
At the trial, Drew had pleaded innocent to the charge. However, he’d admitted to repairing a faulty gas tank valve instead of replacing it with a new one. That one error in judgment had caused an explosion at the family-operated migrant campground. Thankfully, no lives were lost, but the list of serious injuries and property damage was long. A jury had found Drew guilty, and the judge had thrown the book at him. Sentenced to five years in prison, Drew’s punishment hadn’t ended there. Everyone had turned their backs on him, his family had closed down their extensive farming and logging interests and left Henderson. Only Abby had remained loyal.
Three months ago, she’d come back to Henderson when Drew was released. Determined to atone for his mistakes, he’d reopened the sawmill and Abby had joined him. She’d invested both her time and money in the effort. Thus, she hadn’t been pleased when Jack Slade—an ex-con—turned up at the sawmill looking for a job. He was part of Drew’s past, a threat to the future.
Now, Abby leaned her head back with a sigh, admitting that she resented Jack’s presence for more personal reasons.
According to Drew, Jack Slade was an innocent man, wrongly imprisoned for a crime he didn’t commit. Perhaps that part was true—but when Jack looked at Abby, there was nothing innocent about him.
For the first time in her life, she’d seen naked hunger in a man’s eyes. When she’d shrunk from Jack, his expression had quickly turned to derision. She’d been running away from him ever since.
Not that Jack noticed, she thought with a sad smile. He was obviously a loner.
Abby understood isolation.
She was the product of a small backwoods town and an exclusive boarding-school education. Separated from everyone and everything she loved best, she’d spent her childhood not knowing where she belonged. She’d been searching ever since.
Maybe Jack was searching too.
How odd to think they might have something in common—anything at all. Unwilling to grasp the implication, Abby glanced out the window.
Buffeted by a strong north wind, the helicopter lifted off the ground. The roar of the motor drowned out her thoughts. Flying into the clouds, she looked down at the ground below where Seth had joined her brother. Both men grew smaller and smaller as the helicopter gained altitude.
The downstate medical center was miles away; the trip seemed to take forever. In reality, it was less than two hours. Gradually, the city lights came closer until they were sweeping down onto the hospital roof, a flat rectangle that seemed too small to land on. Abby held her breath until the helicopter touched down with a jolt. It had reached its destination, but Abby’s journey was just beginning. Once the copter was anchored securely, she climbed down. She wrapped her coat around her, thankful for its warmth against the bitter cold and recalling how she’d shared it with Jack. Was he warm now?
An experienced hospital triage team took over.
After they exchanged a few hurried words with the rescue crew, a sense of urgency filled their faces. They sped Jack away. With very little experience of trauma, illness or hospitals, Abby struggled to keep up as Jack was whisked inside the building then down a labyrinth of corridors to an elevator. Doors opened, people rushed down hallways.
In the emergency unit, a nurse took over. “What’s his condition?”
While someone responded, the paramedic who had assisted Abby on the helicopter patted her shoulder. “He’ll make it. I have to go. Good luck.”
Abby caught her breath. She wanted to cling to him, he was the only familiar face among so many strangers. “Thank you,” she whispered. She didn’t even know his name, but he’d been kind.
When Jack disappeared through another set of swinging doors, the nurse barred her way. “I’m sorry. You’ll have to wait until the doctor has examined him. Admissions will want to speak to you. Someone will let you know if there’s any change in the patient’s condition.”
“And please try not to worry,” she added as an afterthought.
Abby wondered how many times the emergency-room nurse had to repeat those words in the course of a routine twenty-four hours. In any case, they did little to reassure Abby.
Feeling cut off, she retraced her steps and found the waiting room. A few tired decorations stood as a reminder that it was only six days after Christmas. She’d spent the holiday with Drew and his wife, Olivia. Abby wondered how Jack had spent the day.
The admissions desk was partitioned behind a wall with only a small window connecting it to the outside world.
Abby tapped on the glass to get someone’s attention. “I’d like some information,” she said when a nurse turned up.
The window slid open a few inches. “Weren’t you with the patient they just flew in from Henderson?”
Abby gripped the edge of the counter. “How is he?”
To Abby’s mounting frustration, the nurse answered indirectly. “We’re doing all we can.” She handed over a brown envelope. “Your husband’s valuables are in here. You can take them home with you.”
Feeling like a fraud, Abby took the thick envelope, then slipped it unopened into her coat pocket. “Can I see him?”
“One of the doctors will speak to you directly. In the meantime, I need some information.”
Abby volunteered Jack’s name, age, address, insurance information. She knew all those from his employment records at the sawmill. Allergies? None—that she knew of. Another line remained—next of kin.
Jack didn’t have any family to notify. Struck by the absolute aloneness of this man, Abby stared at the blank space, then took a deep breath. Gripping the pen, her hand shook as she penned in the name Abby Slade.
The black letters looked stark, a little thin and wobbly, nevertheless, the indelible ink couldn’t be erased. Releasing her breath, Abby dropped the pen on the counter.
To her relief, the receptionist gave the signature only a cursory glance. “We’ll let you know if there’s any change.”
The glass partition slid shut.
Completely cut off, Abby struggled with the urge to call the woman back and confess the deception. But then, she remembered. Jack. She’d promised to look after him. As the lies mounted, that was the only truth that mattered.
Abby bit her lip, buried her guilt and turned away. The thought of legal repercussions did cross her mind briefly; however, she dismissed the concern, refusing to let second thoughts deter her from helping Jack. Pretending to be his wife was a bit extreme by any standards, but as his self-appointed representative,
