Lightning Strikes. Mary Lynn Baxter

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God. I thought maybe Noah’s return—”

      Amanda shook her head, cutting him off. “He has nothing to do with my decisions.” Her tone was as cold as the sudden drop in her body’s temperature.

      “Sorry, didn’t mean to imply that—”

      “You didn’t,” she responded matter-of-factly, yet her tone remained chilly. “At this point, I feel I need more experience before I go it alone, which means I’ll definitely give your offer serious thought, if the grant pans out.”

      The director drained his cup, then stood, a smile once again in place. “Trust me, it’ll happen. Meanwhile, I’m outta here. If things get hairy, I’ll try and come back.”

      “For heaven’s sake, be careful on those slick roads.”

      “I’ll be fine. I wouldn’t go, except I’m about to fall asleep on my feet, which means I’m not safe to touch any patient.”

      She couldn’t argue with that. Fatigue was a special no-no in ER as fast, critical decisions had to be made by clear minds and steady hands. Miraculously, she still had both.

      “Take care,” Amanda called to his back. He waved and closed the door behind him.

      For a moment, she dickered as to whether to remain in the break room or return to her cubbyhole. She opted to stay where she was as long as it was quiet. But then, quiet was not what she needed; it gave her too much time to think.

      Damn Carl for mentioning Noah Howell.

      She peered at her watch and noticed that the wedding was about to take place at Squaw Creek Lodge. Noah’s sister, Randi, was getting married, and everyone who was anyone would be there. Everyone except her, that is, she thought with a smirk. But that was all right. Squaw Creek was the last place she wanted to be.

      She preferred being right where she was, doing her job. More to the point, she preferred not to think about weddings—anyone’s wedding. Still, she couldn’t help but think about tomorrow and its significance. It would have been her first wedding anniversary, if Noah hadn’t practically jilted her at the altar.

      Amanda’s breath caught in her lungs and she squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to ward off her errant thoughts. Her tactic backfired. Noah’s ghost seemed to haunt the room. Why did she have to think about him now, when she was alone? To do so made her crazy, crazy with anger and frustration.

      His return to Vanderbilt had been like a blow from behind. Out of all the area hospitals that needed top-notch surgeons, some much more prestigious than Vanderbilt Memorial, why had he chosen to return home? Why had the board taken him back? That latter question was easily answered—he was the best at what he did. His hands were the consummate surgeon’s. He was the consummate surgeon. Too bad that talent didn’t spill over into his personal life.

      After he had left, Amanda prayed that by some miracle she wouldn’t ever have to see him again. She had almost begun to feel secure in that prayer being answered when she’d received word he had returned. Her knee-jerk reaction had been to resign on the spot.

      Then common sense and pride had come to her rescue. No way was she going to let him get another shot at ruining her life, not when she was beginning to mend her heart and find happiness again.

      To hell with him then and to hell with him now.

      “Grrrh!” she muttered, gritting her teeth, determined to corral her runaway thoughts. No such luck. Her mind had homed in on the past and wouldn’t let go.

      Noah had appeared at her door that fateful day just as he had a million times before. They had committed themselves to a hamburger cookout given by another doctor and his family. Neither had wanted to go but felt they had to. So when Noah arrived, she had been dressed and waiting.

      The instant she had opened the door and looked at his face, she’d known something was wrong. Another dead giveaway was that he hadn’t jerked her into his arms and kissed her, hot and hungrily as was his habit when he hadn’t seen her for several days. At that particular time, he’d just returned from a surgical seminar.

      “What’s the matter?” she had asked without preamble.

      He pushed past her, walked to the center of the room, then whipped around, his features contorted. Her heart skipped a beat. Even after he’d lost a patient, she had never seen that tormented expression on his chiseled features. Her heart skipped several more beats.

      “Noah,” she said in a breathless tone.

      “I don’t know how to say this.”

      “Say what?”

      Silence.

      “For heaven’s sake, you can tell me anything.” Somehow the words managed to get past her dry lips.

      “I can’t marry you.”

      At first, she merely blinked, followed by a shake of her head as if she hadn’t heard him right. “What did you say?”

      “Our wedding’s off.” His voice was so strained and low that she could barely understand him.

      Still, she staggered back as though he’d slapped her. “You can’t be serious.”

      “Oh, I’m serious, all right. Dead serious.”

      “But why? I mean—” Amanda couldn’t go on. The words dried up in her throat.

      “Trust me, you don’t want to know. In fact, you’re better off without knowing. More than that, you’re damn sure better off without me.”

      “Why, this is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard, Noah. You’re not making any sense. We’re supposed to be getting married in three months.”

      “Again, that’s not going to happen.”

      “Damn you! If you’re walking out on me, don’t you think you at least owe me an explanation?”

      “Just consider yourself lucky. I’m doing you the biggest favor of your life.”

      She closed the distance between them and grabbed his arm. “I don’t know what’s going on or what’s happening. But one thing I do know is that you love me.”

      He groaned. “Don’t, Amanda.”

      “Don’t?” She heard her voice rise to a hysterical level, but she couldn’t stop it any more than she could stop her heart from dying inside her. “Is that all you have to say?”

      “Yes,” Noah said again, shifting his gaze while holding himself stiff and untouchable.

      “Fine. I’ll accept this cock-and-bull explanation, if you can look me in the eye and tell me you’ve stopped loving me.”

      For a moment, he didn’t say anything, which rejuvenated her heart. “See, I knew—”

      “I don’t love you anymore.”

      The soft but emphatically spoken words fell into the room with the force of an exploding bomb. She wanted to scream; she wanted to attack him physically;

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