Chapter Twenty-Nine
“They’re hedging,” Mr. Goldstein told Monica on the phone a few weeks after her first date with Trent. “But they haven’t dropped anything yet.”
Monica sat on the small patio off her apartment with her phone cradled to her ear. “I wonder why they think they’re going to win this. Seems the more information you obtain, the less of a case they have. Didn’t you tell me that the statement from Shandee was fabricated and that she didn’t want anything to do with coming here to testify?” That information had come midweek, at which time Monica and Trent thought the case would be dropped.
Apparently that wasn’t the case.
“She recanted her statement. It wasn’t made under oath, so there was no holding her to it.”
“I don’t get it.”
“It’s the union. The hospital doesn’t want the union there.” The union had only been voted in a couple of years before Monica began working there. So far, the contracts they’d negotiated hadn’t made life for the nurses that much easier. There was some chatter about a vote to eliminate their presence.
“Why? Seems the nurses are the ones who have to pay the union dues and we aren’t getting a lot for it.” Her annual raises weren’t much to write home about.
“When was the last time you sat in on a union meeting?”
She hadn’t sat in on any. “Never.”
“You might be happy to know that the next contract, which will begin negotiation this winter, is going to favor the staff much more than the previous one. Even with the depressed economy the union feels that with all the health care reform dollars going into the budgets, they can find a way to get that into your hands. They want to see that your health care benefits remain the same. A lot of companies are having to downsize, but big hospitals can’t. Instead they’re eliminating raises, cutting benefits. The union wants to be proactive.”
“So if the hospital can make it look like the union isn’t able to keep an innocent nurse employed now, then the members might think, what good are they?”
“Yeah, that’s what we think. It’s not written anywhere, but that’s our theory. You were convenient. Add a boss that doesn’t like you, and you’re the target. The hospital made one fatal error. They underestimated you and your ability to seek counsel.”
Could it have been as simple as the hospital looking at her resumé’s previous addresses to assume she didn’t have a family with money? “That sucks.”
“When you didn’t show up with a union lawyer, they were undoubtedly confused and had to find out how you could afford us.”
“I can’t afford you,” Monica said with a laugh.
Goldstein chuckled at that. “What you can do is see if you can have your union push up the protest. I already spoke with Jack, and he said he’d chat with his sister about making sure the media was there snapping pictures and making the hospital squirm.”
“You think it will make a difference?”
“I can’t believe they haven’t dropped the case yet. Let’s give them a reason to drop it before the fall.”
Before fall classes. She might not have picked a school to apply to, but she had made the decision to go back once the case was behind her.
“I’ll make a couple of calls.”
“I’ll look forward to hearing from you.” With that, he hung up.
The next hour she started her calls with Walt. She asked if he could rally some of the staff in the next twenty-four hours for a protest, to which he told her he’d do everything on his end. The union was just as eager to move on a protest so Monica put all the wheels in motion making calls to Katie, to Monica’s friends at the fire station, even some friends from nursing school.
When it was all set she called Trent, who had left that morning to join his brothers for a business meeting in Connecticut. It was the second time he’d left her side in the few weeks they’d been a kissing and dating couple. He’d returned the jet he’d flown down from Seattle and needed to stay in the Pacific Northwest long enough to confirm that Frank was the employee who was flying their planes for his own pleasure. After Frank was dismissed, Trent decided it was time to put into place a benefit program in which longtime employees could request certain flight privileges to avoid any issues in the future.
As Trent told her, ever since his parents’ deaths, his brothers had taken up the slack in the company and it was time for him to get back in and ease some of the burden. That meant flying back home for a while.
Monica would have worried about him leaving if he hadn’t told her he was coming back. His life wasn’t in Southern California, however, and she knew that eventually if they wanted to keep seeing each other one of them would have to make a residential change. The thought would have scared the shit out of her a month ago.
Now she found herself searching for masters in nursing programs close to Trent’s company. She wondered if she could trust them as a couple enough to make such a leap.
The couple of nights he planned on being away would help give her the space she needed to think. She already knew that sleeping without him would be difficult and figured she could think then.
Their cuddling, kissing, and not making love hadn’t made her want to be around him less. She knew when she saw him their conversations and time together were going to be about something beyond the physical. The overwhelming desire to talk to him about the protest was a testament to the changes happening within her. It wasn’t often she bothered talking about her problems with the guys she dated. Nothing on a deep level in any account. With Trent, Monica talked about everything. Her dreams, nightmares, future goals, and bucket list achievements.
Share time wasn’t limited to her. Trent told her some of the things he wanted to see happen within the company. Now that he was finished with island living, he wanted to be a larger part of the company. His brothers had carried him for some time. Taking part in the daily decisions was a task he wanted to become a part of again. He was once again putting his life on hold, but this time it was to give their relationship a chance.
At some point, Monica knew she had to take a leap of faith and follow her heart. The leap was from a huge height, however, and the fear of falling made her hesitate.
Her call to Trent went to voice mail, which he returned later that night.
“Hey, California,” he said on the phone, his voice sleepy.
“Did you just get home?”
“I forgot how annoying commercial flights are.”
“Slumming with the rest of us?” Monica joked.
“It’s a pain when I know there’s a better way. Besides, I don’t like someone else driving.”
“Control freak.”
“Look who’s talking.”
She brought him up to date on the protest, told him it would take place in two days right before rush hour. “Katie suggested we blow up a picture I took in Jamaica of me at the clinic, and another one from the ER. Make sure the people in the area know which nurse they’re rallying for. I’ll be at the printer tomorrow and then Katie and I are going to get together with a few of my friends to make the signs.”
“I can change my plans and come back early.” He’d planned on staying home for a few days.
“I’d love for you to be here, but it’s OK. How are your brothers?”
“They’re good. They want to meet you.”
She smiled at that thought. The last woman he’d tried to introduce to his family ended up breaking his heart. “I’d like that.”
“When the hospital drops the case, can I convince you to come here for a visit?”
She curled her feet under her. “You can convince me to visit even if the hospital doesn’t drop the case.”
He hesitated and Monica could hear the smile in his voice. “All right then.”
“All right then,” she repeated. They talked for a while longer, both of them reluctant to hang up. When she heard Trent yawn for the second time she told him she missed him, and that she’d call him the next day.
As she hung up she realized that missing him was simply her way of saying she loved him.
And that made her smile.
The day of the protest started early. Monica and Katie put the finishing touches on the posters and arranged for a last-minute permit to be approved so the protest wouldn’t get them all arrested. Strategically, the protest was scheduled one hour before the end of the business day. If the lawyers of the hospital, and the administration itself, decided to drop the case, they could minimize the damage of the protest by calling a stop to all the attorneys. Goldstein had told her not to expect a call from him until after five. Even if the hospital decided to drop the case as the first picket sign went up, he’d conveniently get the call to Monica after five. “Make ’em bleed,” he’d told her.
She was quite happy to have Goldstein on her side.
Monica staged with off-duty employees, nurses, doctors, union reps, and more members of the fire and even police department, in a park across from the hospital. As four o’clock rolled around, they took the short walk down the street like a flash mob.
Katie held Monica’s hand as they approached the sidewalk in front of the hospital. Media vans were already there and Monica noticed the cameras swing their way as they approached. They no sooner touched the public sidewalk than the union reps began marching with Monica’s friends and colleagues and shouting through their bullhorns about wanting justice. About unfair practices. It grew loud in a heartbeat.
Katie pulled Monica over to a reporter and facilitated the interviews. Even if the hospital made the call, the damage would have been done. None of which bothered Monica in the least. They wanted to make an example out of her, and instead she’d make an example out of them. Pick on someone your own size was the theme of the day. The posters were heartbreaking and the media was all over the story.
Monica told the reporters what she could, all practiced words Goldstein had told her to say. All true, but nothing that would keep her from countersuing the hospital.
The crowd grew with faces Monica didn’t even recognize. Between interviews, she thanked people for coming and often found tears on her face as they offered their support. Katie’s husband, Dean, had shown up with Savannah in a stroller. On the stroller was a picture of Monica holding Savannah as an infant. The picture had been taken right before Monica had gone to work so she was wearing her scrubs. A thought bubble above Savannah’s head said, LEAVE MY AUNTIE ALONE, BULLY!
Cars drove by honking in support, there were discussions of hospital politics, and there were many nurses who mentioned that it could very well have been them that had fallen prey to the hospital’s actions.
It was all so very overwhelming. Monica thought of calling Trent, to share the moment with him, and was pulling her phone from her back pocket when a man approached her from behind.
“Nurse Mann?”
Monica turned around and smiled. The stout clean-cut man was terribly familiar, but recognition didn’t come instantly. “Hello.”
“I wanted to say thank you.” As he spoke shock rolled over every inch of her.
“Oh, my God. Gary? Gary Owens?” How was that possible? He looked sober, healthy. Even a little attractive maybe. What he didn’t look like was the man she’d read the riot act the last day she’d worked in the ER.
A coy smile passed over his mouth and he nodded confirming his identity. “Almost four months sober.” He held up his wrist, which had some kind of charm bracelet denoting his sobriety. “I wouldn’t have tried if you hadn’t pushed me.”
There was no stopping the tears in Monica’s eyes. In her peripheral vision she noticed a camera on the two of them.
“You look great.” And he did.
“I feel good. When I saw this on TV, I had to come.”
“Wow, Gary. I’m not sure what to say.”
He shook his head, had tears of his own he was brushing away. “You don’t have to say anything. Sometimes it only takes one person to make you realize what’s important. You did that, and I’ll always be grateful.”
“I’m so happy for you.”
He shuffled for a bit, then asked, “Can I hug you?”
Monica opened her arms and hugged a man she once thought she never wanted to see again. “Best of luck to you,” she said before he walked away and picked up a picket sign.
Another voice interrupted her thoughts. “Was that Gary Owens?” John asked.
“Yes. Can you believe it?”
“Some people do change,” he said.
She turned toward her ex and grinned.
“I heard you were with the guy from Jamaica.”
They hadn’t really talked about the two of them since she returned. He’d called a few times, tried to get her to go out with him, but she never said yes.
“I am.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I don’t stand a chance, do I?”
Now there were tears in her eyes for other reasons. “I never meant to hurt you.”
“And I wish I was the guy who made you happy.”
“I really do mean it when I say I’d like to still be friends, John.”
He opened his arms and Monica had no problem going to them. When he pulled away, he kissed her cheek. “Take care.”
She twisted around to watch him walk away and her eyes collided with Trent’s.
His face was stone-cold.
Her heart did a hard kick in her chest and she waited for him to move. The excitement of seeing him was mixed with the fear that he’d misinterpret what he’d just seen between her and John. But if they were ever going to move forward, he needed to trust her, and she needed to trust that he wasn’t running off without explanations.
She fisted her hands at her sides and waited for the cold stare to melt, and just when she thought he’d turn and run, he opened his arms.
Those movies where the woman ran into the arms of her guy had always seemed contrived until that moment. Trent lifted her into his arms and whirled her around. “I missed you,” he said, his voice tight.
He set her on her feet and kissed her, and not a little peck but a full-on tongue-to-tongue bedroom kiss that wasn’t suitable for television. She was a little breathless and pink cheeked when he let her go and found some of the staff staring and catcalling.
“Looks like Queenie is thawing,” she heard someone yell.
Monica waved off their comments. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Looks like I need to stick around or risk someone pushing in.” He was smiling as he said his words.
“They can push, but they’ll never get in.”
He kissed her again, briefly.
The phone in her back pocket buzzed and she reached for it. It was after five, and the call was from her lawyer.
Her hand shook as she took the call and plugged her opposite ear to hear. “Please tell me you have good news,” was how she answered the phone.
Goldstein laughed. “They dropped the case, Monica. Congratulations.”
She reached out for Trent and squeezed his arm. “You’re serious.”
He laughed. “I’ll call you next week about the countersuit. They’re already talking settlement.”
Trent stared at her now, searching for answers with his gaze.
The grin on her face stretched from California to Boston. “Thanks, Larry.”
“Have a great week, Monica.”
She screamed when she hung up and threw herself into Trent’s arms.
Katie walked over, Dean and Savannah at her side. “Well?”
Monica found her feet again, but Trent kept his arm around her. “They dropped.”
Hugs and congratulations spread until someone put a bullhorn in Monica’s hand.
“Can I get your attention. Everyone?” She waited for the crowd to turn her way.
Trent picked her up and put her on a chair so she could look above the heads of the people gathered.
“I just got off the phone with my attorney. The hospital dropped the case.”
When the clapping died down, Monica thanked everyone for their support and effort in helping her.
Katie took the horn from her when she was done. “We have a banquet prepared over at The Morrison for all of you to help celebrate. So let’s get the party started.”
The banquet was complete with a full buffet dinner with champagne fountains and a DJ.
“How could you have known they’d drop the case?” Monica asked Katie as she stood beside Trent, Dean, and Walt as they toasted a successful day.
“I didn’t. But I love a party and figured we’d thank everyone for coming.”
“I knew they’d drop the case,” Dean said.
“Me, too.” Trent hugged her into his side.
“Well, I’m glad they did. Now I can move on.”
“What are you going to do now?” Walt asked.
She’d already told him she wouldn’t be returning to the hospital to work. “I think I’m going back to school. Get my masters.”
“Nurse practitioners?”
The more she thought about it, the better she liked the idea. “Yeah.”
Walt’s smile fell. “I guess you won’t be back to Borderless Nurses.”
“I’ve not ruled it out, Walt.”
Monica noticed Gary Owens walking by some of the staff and shaking their hands. He had a Coke in his steady hand. “Don’t take me off the roster yet.”
She and Trent stayed until the last guest left before heading back to her apartment.
As they walked inside, she came to the realization that her time there was coming to an end. “I’m going to miss this place,” she muttered as she walked into the living room and kicked off her shoes.
Trent sat next to her, and pulled her into his lap. “Are you leaving?” He asked his question with a smile on his lips.
“Seems silly to have a two-bedroom apartment when it’s just me here.”
His smile fell, but Monica didn’t relieve his thoughts quite yet. “You didn’t run away.”
There wasn’t a need to explain what she referred to. Trent nuzzled her neck. “I wanted to deck him.”
“But you didn’t, and you didn’t bolt, either.”
“I want to say it didn’t enter my mind, but the feeling to leave was brief. My desire to stick around and fight for you was stronger.”
Monica pushed a lock of hair that had fallen forward away from his eyes. “You don’t have to fight for what’s already yours.”
He leaned in to kiss her and she pulled away. “Wait. I need to say something.”
His eyes searched hers and he leaned back to listen.
“I figured out what my one thing is. You know, that one thing in my life that I need to make every day worth living.” Her heart fluttered in her chest as she realized without a doubt what that one thing was.
“Oh, what’s that?”
As if he couldn’t figure it out. “I more than miss you when you’re gone. It’s like I’m empty inside. It’s you that I need.”
His coy smile slid and he didn’t let her pull away as he kissed her, soft and intimate with lots of sparkly promise.
“Wait, I’m not done.”
He leaned his forehead against hers and waited.
She took a deep breath and leapt from the tallest obstacle on which she’d ever been perched. “I’m going to tell you something. I don’t expect a response.” She hesitated. “I love you.”
Trent closed his eyes. “Say that again,” he whispered.
“I love you, Trent.”
He found her gaze and stared deep inside. “Thank God.”
The edge of despair in his voice placed a smile on her face.
“I didn’t want to fall alone. I love you, Monica.” He held her face in his hand and said, “God, do I love you!”
Yeah, she might have told him he didn’t have to repeat the words, but damn it was good to hear them. Any ice left of the queen was shattered with his words.
Her lips met his in a hungry kiss, greedy and full of desire. His arms circled her waist, pushed under her shirt.
She sucked his tongue into her mouth and feasted on his lips. Lips she loved, with the man who broke through her walls and emotional boundaries. It no longer mattered where their relationship would lead so long as they were together on the journey.
Monica squirmed on his lap, not content to feel his rising need pressed against her thigh. There were much better places for that part of his anatomy than her thigh and damn if she wasn’t ready to experience it… him again. Using the sofa for leverage, she lifted her knee over his legs and startled him. Even between their clothes, their combined heat burned. She arched into him with a low moan of pleasure.
Skilled hands ran along the edge of her bra, undid the clasp, and filled his palms with the weight of her breasts.
He broke the kiss and held her to him with both hands as he lifted both of them from the couch. Clasping on with her legs, she used her lips to suck on the lobe of his ear. “Jeez, Monica, you make it hard to walk.”
She giggled. “Oh, you’re hard. Very yummy and hard.”
In her room, he fell with her onto her bed, pinned her, and thrust his hips into hers.
“We have way too many clothes on, Barefoot.” She tugged at his shirt, freed it from his shoulders, and tossed it away.
Trent helped her out of her shirt and leaned in to taste her needy breasts. Their endless foreplay had ended right here for weeks. Not this time.
She reached for his pants, undid the clasp, and thrust her hand inside.
He pulled away from her long enough to groan. Using his surprise she shifted her leg over him until she rode on top. “I think it’s my turn to be on top,” she said.
He laughed. “Whatever the lady wants,” he promised. “Just get naked.”
She slid off the bed and pulled his pants with her until he was there in full naked mouthwatering glory. When she kicked the rest of her clothes off, she reached for her bedside stand, found protection, and returned. She sheathed him slowly, running her hand up his length and back down. When his eyes glossed over and closed she did it again.
Trent reached for her hips and guided her close. With her spread over him, he rounded a hand in front and cupped her. Monica rode his hand for a moment until the rhythm carried her close to the breaking point.
When Trent lifted her up and onto him, he plunged and carried her weight. The angle brought depth and fired off explosions and heat. Monica wanted to think she had control over him, but he managed to take her over and over, guiding her hips and finding the perfect angle for her world to spiral and break free in a rush of pleasure.
He flipped her under him, so unexpected, and so damn hot, and pushed her into the soft bed.
“More,” he said in her ear as if a promise. “I want more from you.”
“I don’t know if I—” But he moved a little higher and—hell yeah—heat built again until she was moaning his name and her eyes went blind.
He pushed himself farther once, twice, until pleasure rippled over him with his release.
The world stopped spinning on its axis yet the two of them kept moving, hearts beating, heads spinning, until she heard Trent draw in a breath. “If… if you tell anyone I agreed to not do that with you, I’ll tell them you’re the liar. Fair warning.”
Her laughter filled the room. “Wanna do it again?”
The rumble of his chest against hers was quickly followed by him climbing off her and vaulting off the bed.
Stunned, she leaned up on her elbows and gaped. “Where are you going?”
“Coffee,” he said. “We’re going to need coffee to stay up all night. Make up for lost time.”
The man she loved glanced at the door, jumped back on the bed like a kid, and kissed her. “I love you,” he whispered. Then he made good on his threat and left to brew a pot of coffee.
Hours later they finally fell asleep, closed off from the world. The next day all Monica could think was the world might be embarking on a new day, but she was taking on a whole new life.
Epilogue
Two months later
“Do you love me?” Trent asked her as they stood in front of one of the company helicopters he’d had Glen fly in from the airport in Houston.
It was the week before Thanksgiving and the Morrisons had invited Trent and his brothers to join them for the holiday. Somewhere, someone heard Monica talk about Trent’s bucket list desire of doing the whole cattle run with his brothers. Funny how if you told a Texan you want to ride a horse and live on the range, they’d make it happen even if winter was fast approaching. Not that Monica worried about Trent having any issues with hypothermia. It was Texas, after all. The weather didn’t get that bad.
Trent, his brothers, Dean, Jack, even Gaylord were leaving in the morning for four days of camping, riding, and otherwise living off the land.
That was tomorrow. Today, Trent stood in front of a helicopter that represented one of her greatest fears, and if she was reading him right, she knew what he wanted them to do.
“You know I love you. I moved all the way across the country and now live in the snow a good four months of the year. Four months!” And she wouldn’t change it for anything. The suit against the hospital ended in her favor to the tune of many zeros. She enrolled in an NP program close to the Fairchild home office and the two of them picked out a ranch-style home that sat on top of a hill facing east. They watched the sunrise together almost every day.
Ginger now had Gilligan, their new dog, to play with during the day when the two of them were gone. Poor Gilligan tried to be the man, but Ginger ran over him every chance she could.
Trent grasped her waist and teased her with a kiss. “Come with me.”
Although the thought of climbing in the chopper made her heart rate race, she knew she trusted Trent.
She twisted out of his arms and swung open the door of the helicopter before she lost her nerve. “Oh, OK, fine. Let’s go.”
Trent didn’t give her time to change her mind. He sat behind the controls in seconds and soon the now familiar headphones covered her ears, and the propeller started to spin.
“You do know that most women don’t have to prove their love by riding in one of these things?”
“Most women don’t sleep with the pilot.”
“Do we sleep?” she teased.
He winked at her before lowering the sunglasses on his nose.
The day was clear, the Texan sun was high above, giving the day a feel of spring.
Instead of focusing on the ground, or the sky, Monica watched the joy wash over Trent as he lifted the bird off the skids and into the sky. Once in the air, he pivoted the helicopter toward the direction he wanted to go.
“You really love it,” she said.
He glanced over at her, removed a hand from the controls, and squeezed her knee.
As much as Monica liked the gesture, she felt much better with both his hands on the “wheel.” She returned his hand and gave it a good pat. “You fly, I’ll try to keep my lunch in.”
Only when she removed her eyes from him, she didn’t feel the familiar twist in her gut as she had in the past. The ground was way the hell down there, but something about it had changed.
They moved over a hill and a herd of cattle started to run away from the noise. “Look,” she said pointing to the ground.
Trent’s voice sounded high-pitched through the intercom system muffling their ears.
“Up here, you can see them but not smell them.”
“Might wanna get used to it, cowboy.” They laughed, knowing full well that Trent wasn’t a hat-wearing cowboy. Though Monica did have a hat ready to give him when he left in the morning.
They circled the cattle again, then flew farther from Gaylord’s property and closer to Jack and Jessie’s ranch, which wasn’t far away. From their height, it looked much smaller than it was in person. “That’s Jack and Jessie’s place,” she said when it appeared Trent would fly past it.
“It is?”
She couldn’t imagine that Trent didn’t recognize it, even from the air. “Yeah, the red barn and corral beside the hill.”
“Oh, yeah.”
He twisted the helicopter around and flew over. Surprisingly, her stomach didn’t wobble with the helicopter movement. She removed her cell phone from her pocket to get a picture for Jessie.
Something on the hill beside the barn grabbed her attention. “What’s that?”
“Not sure,” Trent said as he moved closer. Long strips of yellow tarp flapped in the wind. It wasn’t natural, and it didn’t look like some kind of giant tent or anything. As they moved closer it appeared as if there were words written on the tarp.
“Something for Danny?”
Monica was peering at the ground, concentrating so hard on reading the words she’d all but forgotten she was staring at the ground from a hundred or more feet.
“Let’s get closer,” Trent said.
She squinted. Trent hovered over the tarp while she read aloud.
“Will you…” her jaw dropped. Her attention snapped to her pilot. “… marry me?” she whispered the last words.
Trent was smiling, waiting. “I love you, Monica. I want you forever.”
Even with headgear and a microphone covering his mouth, she couldn’t help but lean forward and find his lips. “You’re crazy,” she yelled, as she knocked the ear protection off of him.
“Is that a yes?”
She couldn’t think of a better way for him to ask. “Yes, Barefoot. I’ll marry you.”
He kissed her and still managed to keep the helicopter in the air.
He placed her hands on the controls. “Hold this.”
Some of the joy of the moment shifted to terror. “Trent! I can’t fly this thing.”
He reached into his pocket and removed a box and opened it. Inside, was a spectacular round diamond that rivaled her sister’s in a cluster of similar stones set in platinum. Monica let go of the controls and squealed.
Trent grabbed the controls and nearly dropped the ring.
“Ah!” Only instead of worry, excitement filled her. With one hand, Trent managed to get the ring on her finger, kiss her, and promise forever.
Feeling like a giddy teenage girl after her first kiss, the smile on her face actually hurt. She held her hand out and admired the ring he bought with her in mind. “You have class, Barefoot. Serious class.”
He was laughing.
Through her headset she heard Jason’s voice through the microphone. “Trent, your ground crew is dying here. Do we have a Yankee Echo Sierra or November Oscar?”
Living with a pilot, Monica had managed to look up some of their lingo and knew what Jason was asking.
They were back over Gaylord’s property and a crowd had gathered outside to watch them.
“Should you tell them or I?” Monica asked.
The cocky smile on his face never left. “I got it.” Trent pressed a button, and from the helicopter streamers fell in long sheets.
“What’s that?”
“Giant confetti with the word yes printed on it.”
Out the window, she noticed the pieces of paper hit the ground and the crowd pick them up. Jessie, with her hugely pregnant belly, and Katie hugged. The kids were running in circles with the excitement. Jason and Glen lifted their thumbs in the air.
Monica moved as close as she could to her future husband and kissed his cheek. “What would you have done if I said no?” Not that he could have had any doubt of her answer. Once she let herself believe in her love for him, there was no looking back.
“We are in a helicopter. I thought I’d keep you up here until you said yes.”
She gave him a playful punch to his arm. “You don’t scare me, Trent Fairchild.”
He leaned close and kissed her.
Acknowledgments
In my years as an ER nurse I’ve had the privilege to work beside, and with, some of the best doctors and nurses in the world. I wouldn’t take back my years of nursing for anything… the things I’ve learned, the things I’ve seen, are unsurpassed and not something many would believe.
I’ve often said that I can’t make up the shit I’ve seen in real life and make it believable in the pages of fiction.
Heroes come in many categories, but those who willingly walk into a war zone without the glory of a paycheck, or even assurance of their own safety… those are true heroes.
This book is dedicated to those who give of themselves daily for others.
Nurse Kimberly, Nurse Anna, Nurse Valerie, Nurse Ray, Nurse Tanya, Nurse Tatiana, Nurse Kathy, Dr. Schmit, Dr. Hook, Dr. Henry, Dr. Noll, Dr. Sam, Dr. Shultz, Dr. Ziemba…
I cannot list enough names.
Thank you!
About the Author
PHOTOGRAPHY BY LINDSEY MEYER, 2012.
New York Times best-selling author Catherine Bybee was raised in Washington State, but after graduating high school, she moved to Southern California in hopes of becoming a movie star. After growing bored with waiting tables, she returned to school and became a registered nurse, spending most of her career in urban emergency rooms. She now writes full-time and has penned the novels Wife by Wednesday, Married by Monday, and Fiancé by Friday in her Weekday Brides series and Not Quite Dating and Not Quite Mine in her Not Quite series. Bybee lives with her husband and two teenage sons in Southern California.