tinged with sarcasm, a kind of fun mix. “And this?” He sent a light touch over her left eyebrow and seemed happy when she didn’t react.
“Should I ask how I look?” She made a face, and he responded with an overdone cringe as if afraid to tell her. She dropped her head back and sighed. “That bad?”
“Two bangs and a bruise. Not too bad. But wrecking two cars in one day? I’m glad I don’t have to pay your insurance, Julia.”
“The other one wasn’t my fault,” she protested. “Parked, I tell you. No way can you pin that one on me.”
“And this one?” Tanner slid his gaze to the upended car in front of them.
She sighed out loud. “That one’s all me.” She started to make a face, but wrinkling the muscles made her temple bruise hurt more so she stopped. “And Zach’s going to have a field day because he warned me to handle the car differently.”
“Yup.”
“Do you have siblings, Tanner?”
“One sister. Neda. She lives in Erie. Just far enough away that she can’t remind me of the dumb things I do too often.”
As the ambulance crew reached the car, Julia grimaced. “My advice? Keep it that way.” She shot a look of chagrin toward Zach’s approaching car and winked at Tanner. “Because I’m never going to live this down.”
“I do believe I said no when asked about going to the emergency room.” Julia frowned at her watch, then at her brother an hour later. “I have two kids and an overgrown puppy waiting for me at Dad’s. And I’m on call for the next forty-eight hours.”
“Protocol says head wounds get looked at.” Zach aimed one of those brotherly looks her way, the kind that should get him smacked except she was too tired to put up much of a fight. “And you’re not on call anymore. I called Dr. Salinas. She’s taking calls tonight to give you time to rest.”
“You what?” Julia lifted her brows, surprised. “You can’t have her do that. She’s got a lot on her plate right now. I’m fi—”
“You’re not fine,” Tanner reminded her. He scanned her face with a mix of sympathy and amusement. “Although I have to hand it to you, you’re one tough cookie. And no driving for twenty-four hours. You heard the doctor. How were you expecting to answer calls?”
Great. Just what she needed. Another bossy cop, and he wasn’t even related to her.
She was determined to be patient because like it or not, they would be working in the same area, and Julia knew it was way better to have the police on her side. “The doctor didn’t mean it.”
“I did mean it.” The ER doc strode back into the room, handed Julia a container of pain meds, then faced her. “I had them fill this upstairs because the local drugstores are closed due to the storm. Use them if you need them, Julia.” His tone and expression said he doubted she would, but should. “I wasn’t messing around. No driving for the next twenty-four hours. Go home and rest.”
She frowned as she slid off the examining table. Zach held out her coat. She shrugged into it, then turned and stuck her hand out to Tanner. “Thank you for the rescue. I appreciate it. Seeing your lights come across that overpass made me real happy.”
The sympathy in his gaze deepened. “Anytime.”
“Don’t say that,” Zach warned. “She’s going to be working under your nose in that new clinic, and Julia’s not afraid to lasso people into helping her. Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Reddington.”
“I never do.” The promise in his voice pulled Julia’s attention up to his eyes. “Call me if you need me, okay?”
Tenderness. Kindness. Warmth. All in a to-die-for package, and when he smiled down at her, the tingle of her palms had nothing to do with a concussion and everything to do with attraction, which couldn’t, wouldn’t and shouldn’t happen. She had a mission to accomplish and despite how broad-shouldered and good-looking Tanner Reddington was, she’d read his dismay back at the clinic. He didn’t want her there, and she’d washed her hands of negative men after her ex-husband cheated on her for the second time.
She pulled back, blinked the emotion away and smiled at Zach. “Are you my ride home?”
Zach’s radio cued him. He listened, responded and hooked a thumb toward Tanner. “I’ve got a call across the lake. Tanner, can you get Julia home?”
* * *
Tanner saw a shadow of reluctance in Julia’s gaze. About riding with him? Going home? He had no idea, but the quick look surprised him. “Glad to. Where’s home?”
“I’m on Upper Lake Road, just beyond the Lodge.”
Tanner pulled out his hat and gloves, realized Julia had left hers in his cruiser, and handed them to her. “I’ll pull my SUV up to the ER entrance so you don’t have to walk out in the snow. But wear these until you get to the car because the windchill is wicked.”
“But—”
He ignored her protests as he strode into the storm. Five minutes later, he was at the ER door, waiting for her. She climbed in quickly, set his hat and gloves on the space between them, and settled into the seat.
She looked exhausted.
And pretty, despite the banged-up face. The way she sat back, as if allowing herself time to relax didn’t happen often, told him Julia Harrison looked after others first, and then maybe took time for herself.
“So, Julia, what do you do, exactly?”
“I’m a midwife and women’s health practitioner.”
Tanner’s fingers tightened around the wheel.
“Our practice was awarded a state grant recently,” she went on. “We bought the strip mall location about eight months back. Now we have the approvals in place to get it ready. Once the cleanup work is complete, we’ll set up three exam rooms, a waiting room and reception area—”
“With bulletproof glass,” he muttered as he made the turn onto Upper Lake Road.
“It’s a tough area,” she acknowledged, “but I think you run a risk anytime you set up an outreach like this. It didn’t stop Mother Teresa, and it didn’t stop Jesus.” She shrugged. “I like to think this clinic will reflect James’s teaching in the Bible. He said faith without works is dead. And while I love our practice, a lot of women don’t have the money or insurance to come to our main office, or they shy away because they’re afraid they don’t fit in. This way, they don’t have to do without needed care. And the area isn’t as bad as you make out,” she added with a pointed look in his direction.
“No?” He wouldn’t argue with her because she was fresh out of the hospital, but the lower end of Kirkwood Lake bordered some tough areas of Clearwater. Still, everyone deserved medical care. He believed that. But the thought of a pregnancy center, run by a midwife, right under his
