The Nurse's Homecoming, page 1
“It’d be better if you can stay upright. Can you?”
“Piece of cake,” Carson said, bracing one arm on the exam table. “Have at it.”
But somewhere under all that pain he was grateful for the chance to be near Bridget, to hear her soothing tone and see the care in her eyes.
“See if you can manage to bleed less,” she joked.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
Bridget leaned closer and assessed the wound. Even over the sharp scent of the antiseptic, he could smell her shampoo or lotion or perfume. It was enough to make him dizzy even without the wallop to his head.
She touched his forehead, a sensation as soothing to him as any bunny bandages were to the youngsters. “A few butterfly bandages should do the trick. Unless you’d like a tough-guy scar—stitches do a better job of that.”
“No thanks. I like my face the way it is.”
“Me, too,” she said softly, then cleared her throat. “I’m all for scar prevention.”
But she hadn’t quite covered the slip...and they both knew it.
Allie Pleiter, an award-winning author and RITA® Award finalist, writes both fiction and nonfiction. Her passion for knitting shows up in many of her books and all over her life. Entirely too fond of French macarons and lemon meringue pie, Allie spends her days writing books and avoiding housework. Allie grew up in Connecticut, holds a BS in speech from Northwestern University and lives near Chicago, Illinois.
Books by Allie Pleiter
Love Inspired
True North Springs
A Place to Heal
Restoring Their Family
The Nurse’s Homecoming
Wander Canyon
Their Wander Canyon Wish
Winning Back Her Heart
His Christmas Wish
A Mother’s Strength
Secrets of Their Past
Matrimony Valley
His Surprise Son
Snowbound with the Best Man
Wander Canyon Courtship
Visit the Author Profile page at LoveInspired.com for more titles.
The Nurse’s Homecoming
Allie Pleiter
All the paths of the Lord are mercy and truth unto such as keep his covenant and his testimonies.
—Psalm 25:10
To all who generously give the gift of life by donating organs or bone marrow
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Dear Reader
Excerpt from A Cowboy for the Summer by Danica Favorite
Chapter One
Bridget Nicholson parked her car in the gravel parking lot of Camp True North Springs and hoped her shock wasn’t visible through the windshield.
It couldn’t be.
It was.
As she stared at the camp staff assembled to greet her, she was met with the sight of the one man who could make this job a bigger challenge than it already was: Carson Todd.
Up until this moment, Bridget had thought her father’s disapproval of this job had been her biggest hurdle. He’d wanted her to have nothing to do with Camp True North Springs. It was “beneath her potential,” he’d said. As if she could—and should—do much better than becoming a camp’s temporary nurse to “those problem families.”
The Camp True North Springs families were indeed a far cry from the posh vacationers she’d tended to on the cruise ship Brilliance. Still, Bridget couldn’t see how families who had lost a member to violence deserved Dad’s unfair disdain. Everyone deserved care.
What was also unfair—decidedly—was how good Carson looked. Her attempts to drag her gaze away and focus on her two employers failed. The past three years had changed him. His sandy-brown hair—unkempt and wild in the past—was cut close and clean. His intense blue eyes bore a more settled look. His lean, tanned body had filled out to a stronger and sturdier build. The younger man who’d loped around without much focus now stood with a capable, grounded stance. Everything and nothing like the Carson Todd Dad had insisted she leave behind.
To say she and Carson had history together was an understatement larger than the mountain behind her. How could she spend the next four weeks in close quarters with this man? One who had once been the love of her life? Her confidence trickled away.
Don’t you back down now, she told herself as she got out of her car. You’ve been around the world—twice—on a luxury cruise liner, you can handle four weeks on an Arizona mountainside. Bridget stood as tall as her five-foot-four frame would allow and extended a hand to the couple walking toward her. She forced confidence into her voice.
“Hello, Mason. Hello, Dana.” She stopped there, not knowing any of the other staff and certainly not ready to say “Hello, Carson,” even though her gaze kept rebelliously slipping toward the man. Evidently, Carson was having the same problem, for he was doing a poor job of trying to appear casual while looking everywhere but at her.
“Hello, Bridget,” Mason Avery replied, offering a friendly handshake. “Welcome to Camp True North Springs.” His cordial tone faltered as he bounced his glances between Bridget and Carson. So... Mason knew this was an awkward reunion. His wife, Dana, seemed to know, as well. Did they all know? Bridget’s insides recoiled at the thought of everyone knowing her romantic history with Carson. A breakup so dramatic that it had sent her halfway around the world.
Up until a month ago, travel had been a wonderful thing. She’d given in to her father’s request—his demand, actually, that she leave Carson behind—and had turned Dad’s sizable travel allowance into the adventure of a lifetime. That adventure had brought her to Anders. They had been building a life together.
Had been building. As in no longer.
As in my left hand no longer has a diamond ring on it. Adding Carson’s presence to the wounds of her broken engagement seemed to add insult to injury.
Had Dad known? Had he purposefully hidden Carson’s presence at the camp from her? It would be something he would do.
Bringing her thoughts back to the present moment, Bridget shook off the flurry of emotions and hid behind a professional demeanor. “I’m glad to be here.” Don’t look at Carson. Instead, Bridget turned her attention to the boy standing between Dana and Mason. He looked about nine, and she remembered reading something about him just finishing third grade. Too bad it was mid-June and school wasn’t in session. School nurse sounded far safer than her current predicament.
“You must be Charlie.” She kept her voice bright. “What’s it like to run a camp at your age?”
Charlie’s laugh broke some of the tension, smiling up at his father and stepmother. “I don’t run it. Dad and Dana do. And everyone else. The new friends start getting here tomorrow.”
New friends. Five families would be arriving on-site tomorrow, each recovering from a personal tragedy. She knew a bit about the Garza family—they had been the ones to recommend her for this job—but the rest would be new acquaintances.
“We were so glad Martina suggested you,” Dana said as they walked toward the group of other staff—including Carson, who took a step back and looked down at his boots as she approached. “You’re an answer to our prayer. Everyone will feel so much better with a nurse on-site while little Matteo is here.”
Bridget nodded. “It works out for everyone. I can fill in while figuring out my next steps, and Martina can relax knowing we’re ready for whatever Matteo might need.”
“He looks like such a sweet little guy,” Dana said. “You must know him if you know Martina.”
“Actually, Martina and I hadn’t kept in touch until recently. I admit the referral took me a bit by surprise, but it worked out great for everyone, didn’t it?” Bridget had grown up with Martina in North Springs and had only kept in casual touch over social media. Martina knew Bridget had broken off her engagement to Anders and was coming back home after finishing her contract with the cruise line. Bridget knew Martina’s husband had been killed in a military accident earlier this year and that her son had medical challenges.
“We hadn’t planned to add an on-site nurse until later in the season,” Mason said. “But no one wanted to say no to those two after all they’ve been through.”
Bridget couldn’t imagine saying no to any of the families she knew were soon to arrive. Each one was battling grief and needing space to heal. Her heart had broken as she’d skimmed through the family profiles Dana had sent over earlier. Her own troubles seemed trivial by comparison.
“It was an easy yes for me,” Bridget agreed. “Martina seems to need what you’re offering here. All the families do.”
Dana nodded. “I couldn’t agree more.”
“I wish your father felt that way, if you don’t mind my saying,” Mason replied. “I almost didn’t ask and was surprised you said yes.”
Bridget offered her new employer a knowing look. “I’m not my dad.”
Carson was standing just close enough for Bridget to hear the small grunt he gave at that statement. They’d have to talk about their past breakup at some point, but not here and not now.
Dad’s negative view of Camp True North Springs stumped her. Who could be against providing healing and respite to grieving families? Dad’s position that the camp brought “problem families” to the town was just plain wrong. Yes, poverty and lack of opportunity led some people toward violence, but Bridget could tell surprisingly painful stories from her upscale patients aboard the Brilliance, too. In her experience, pain and loss ignored the size of anyone’s bank account.
Bridget tried again to keep her gaze off Carson, despite an avalanche of questions. What had he done in the years since they’d been together? It made sense he was still in North Springs—he’d never quite found his path after high school. No college, no big plans, just a laid-back, in-the-moment guy. Dad had found that intolerable, but his sense of easy freedom had appealed to Bridget. Carson paid close attention to his life. He was too engrossed in today to worry much about tomorrow. Life for him was plain and satisfying. When something went wrong, he simply fixed it and moved forward.
Bridget couldn’t consider that an accomplished life. His attitude would never lead to the bright future her family valued so highly. Then again, had all her planning achieved a bright future? Did Carson know about her engagement? Or the fact that she’d broken it off?
“Hello, Bridget.” Carson chose that moment to break the silence between them. “I’m the fix-it guy around here. Nice to see you again.” The timbre of his deep, rich voice struck her anew. It had been one of the things that had first drawn her to him.
Mason shifted his weight. “Carson told me you two...know each other. I had no idea, or I might have said something.” After a fidgety pause, Mason added, “I want my staff to feel comfortable. Is this going to be a problem?”
“No,” Bridget and Carson declared loudly at the same time.
“It’ll be fine,” Bridget added.
“All good,” Carson chimed in.
Bridget had doubts that it would be fine or good, but she would make it work. They both would. While she would drive back down the mountain tonight and pack the last of her things, nothing—not even this gigantic new wrinkle—would stop her from coming back up to start her job tomorrow.
* * *
Carson spent an hour pretending to get work done. Pretending, because his mind refused to focus on any topic but Bridget. Finally, he gave up and went looking for her in the camp infirmary that had been set up in the back of the big house’s main floor.
He found it empty but everything in tidy order. That was Bridget—organized to the hilt. There was a time when his own impulsive and disorganized nature—bad then, but a bit better now—drove her to distraction. Who was being driven to distraction now?
Hearing a noise from the room just down the hall, Carson walked over to find Bridget unloading a suitcase into the chest of drawers. She hadn’t changed her hair much—the brown locks still framed her face in a clean, short cut. He’d always found her cute—small and tanned with luxurious brown eyes and a smile that could make him feel like king of the world. Still, she had a sophistication about her that caught him up short. As if she’d moved on—or up—in the world while he hadn’t. He wondered, if they’d met today for the first time, if he’d find the confidence to pursue her the way he had all those years ago when he’d fallen hard for her.
Now, they’d be living within yards of each other. For a whole month. That proximity loomed between them like a giant minefield of romantic history.
He leaned against the open doorway and waited until she noticed him before asking, “Getting settled in?” He tried to sound casual, but her expression told him he’d failed. They had to get a handle on this awkwardness, and fast. He’d be thirty years old next year, she, twenty-eight—mature enough to find a way to make the next few weeks work.
“Starting to, at least.” Her voice was tight and tense.
“That’s good.” He noticed the clothing in neat stacks behind her. Fancy, elegant things. Things belonging to a woman who had traveled the world. He’d heard of her job on the cruise ship, heard of her engagement to some important ship’s officer. Carson had figured he wouldn’t ever see her again.
She clasped her hands in front of her and shrugged, a gesture he remembered vividly. “I’ve got more things to bring up from the house tomorrow, but I’m almost done. Short stay, after all.”
The room felt too close, too small to hold all the history between them. “Want to walk out to the pond? I’m thinking maybe we should talk.”
She hesitated at first, but eventually nodded and grabbed her ID lanyard and keys. As they left the big house, Carson pointed in the direction of the pond on the west side of the property. It was hot—June had already served up some scorcher days—but outside felt safer, and the pond was a good place for a private conversation.
“What’s with him?” Bridget asked as they walked past a comical tin frog fountain spouting water under one of the trees off the house’s front porch.
“Oh, that’s Franco. It’s a long story, but he was a stand-in of sorts for the big pond.”
Bridget’s dark brows furrowed over her expressive eyes. He could stare forever at those fascinating eyes back when they were together. At the moment, those eyes were filled with the same caution and confusion that had churned in his stomach since her arrival.
“Stand-in?” she asked. “For a pond?”
“There’s a thing they do for the families,” Carson explained. “Everyone sends a flower floating out across the pond for the person they’ve lost. Dana bought Franco for Charlie to do that for his mother back when the big pond was dried up.” He gazed at the big round eyes of the frog, forever spouting water into his little ceramic pond. “Ask Charlie. He explains it best.”
“He seems like an amazing kid,” Bridget replied. “Especially when you think about what he’s been through.” She was quiet for a minute as they made their way down the path to the pond, but then continued, “I missed kids on the ship. There were a few now and then, but it was mostly older people.” Her eyes shot Carson a look that resembled just a hint of the Bridget he remembered. “Rich, older people.”
“Swanky boat, huh?”
His choice of words made her laugh. “Oh, don’t you ever call the Brilliance a ‘boat.’ But yes, you could call it swanky.” She gave her voice a dramatic travel-brochure tone and waved her hand in the air. “Luxurious staterooms, spectacular ports of call, top-notch cuisine, everything the discriminating traveler desires.” She returned her voice to its normal friendliness. “Not exactly kid-friendly.”
Carson tried to picture the down-to-earth, very kid-friendly Bridget he’d known on a ship like that. It didn’t fit. But the woman in front of him at the moment? He could easily picture it. She was in a different league now—one far above his, that was for sure. “Did you like it? Working on board? Living on board?”
She shrugged again. “Who wouldn’t like living how the ‘other half’ lives?”
“Swanky’s never really been my thing. I can’t picture myself doing what you did.” The back of Carson’s mind snagged on the unrelated fact that what she had done was leave him brokenhearted when her father had declared him “not good enough” to share a future with his daughter. If every conversation between them pointed back to their history, it would make for an excruciating month. Carson hadn’t expected the old feelings of rejection to rise up so fresh and raw.
“Oh, it was always clear who was the passenger and who was the employee, but it was amazing. I saw so much of the world. Breathtaking sights. Met really interesting people.”
And almost married one of them, Carson thought. No way was he going to bring that up. He’d let her decide when to talk about the ring now gone from her finger.
They’d finally reached the pond and Carson sat down on one end of the beautiful wooden bench by the small dock. Mason, who was a gifted carpenter, had built all the benches that graced the property. “I think the people here are really interesting. Not fancy—certainly not by your standards. But—” he searched for the right word, settling reluctantly on “—important. It’s important what we do here. I’m glad to be a part of it.” Would she get that? Value it the way he did? Or was she just here to mark time until her next important adventure?
