Cameron gripped the woman’s forearm. “I don’t think so. But we do need to check him. It would be better if you and the baby were in another room.”
“But I—”
“Esme.” Ian leaned down so they were eye-to-eye. “Listen to Cameron. Right now, Brodie isn’t lucid. He’s likely dreaming. He may say or do things he wouldn’t want you to see or hear.”
Esme shook her head, denying Ian’s words. “But he doesn’t have to hide from me. There’s nothing he could . . .”
Ian held tightly to both of the woman’s shoulders. “Sometimes when people are hurting, when they’re not thinking, they say and do things they don’t mean. Those things can’t be unheard, Esme, no matter how much we want to. Trust me.”
Guilt twisted in Cameron’s gut. Oh, the things she’d said in the hospital room in Africa. She’d cursed Ian and Wes for not saving her baby, for letting her live. She cried out her desire to be dead, had lamented that her life wasn’t worth living. How impotent Ian must’ve felt, sitting by her bedside holding in his own anguish. Watching him now, she realized how much pain she’d inadvertently caused him. He was right. You couldn’t unhear or unsee. But hopefully he could forgive.
“Come on.” She nudged Esme with her shoulder. “So we can focus on Brodie.”
The woman didn’t take her gaze from her husband.
“Remember what I said about this being a long road?” Ian asked.
Esme nodded.
“This is the first step. The sooner you start…”
Another nod. Esme trudged to the door. Reluctant but determined.
Offering Ian a small smile, Cameron said, “I’ll be back.”
He lifted his chin, not really looking at her. His focus had returned to Brodie. She directed Esme to the room Ara had occupied.
Once they were inside, Esme went to a chair. “What is wrong with him?”
This time Cameron’s heart ached for both the other woman and for Ian. Is this how he felt? Thankful to have the person he loved back, only to find she wasn’t the same? Cameron handed the baby off to his mother, then crouched in front of her chair.
“Brodie’s going to have a lot of adjusting to do, but he’ll do it. With you by his side, with the girls and now his boy.” She smiled at the tiny bundle. “You’ll support him. I’ll support you both. Don’t forget that Es.” She squeezed her friend’s knee. “You come to me when things get too heavy. Keso and I will carry the load. Everyone here will. We’ll get Brodie through this.”
Esme nodded as tears trickled down her cheeks. “He woke up. I’ll hold on to that.”
“Yes. Do that.” With a final squeeze, Cameron rose to her feet. “Let me get back to them.”
When she reentered Brodie’s room, Ian stood by his bedside, taking his pulse. At the sound of her bare feet on the concrete floor, he looked up.
“He’s back asleep. His vitals are normal.” Pulling the stethoscope from his ears, he looped the instrument around his neck.
Slowly, she crept toward the bed, almost afraid she’d get there and find Ian’s words false. Brodie lie with his eyes closed, his chest raising and lowering in a perfect, steady rhythm.
“This is what you hoped for,” Ian reminded her, sensing her worry. “You know how this works.”
Yes, she did. But this time, she just wished her friend would wake up whole and normal. She didn’t want his family to have to wait for his recovery.
“He’ll be okay?”
The look Ian gave her said she also knew he couldn’t answer that yet. “He’s alive, Cam. Really alive, not just breathing.” When she continued to search his face for an answer, he sighed. “I think he’s going to be fine.”
She shook her head. “He’ll never be fine, Ian. I cut his legs off.” A part of her dreaded the moment he woke up and saw what she’d done. What if Edmund had been right? What if Brodie would rather die than live like this? Tears filled her eyes.
“You also delivered his first son and saved the woman he loves. If he’s the man you and Esme claim he is, he’ll be glad to be alive and understand what you had to do to make that happen.” Ian came to stand beside her, offering his warm reassurance.
“He is that man,” she whispered. “He’s good. You’ll like him.”
As if unsure of her assessment, Ian’s eyes narrowed. “I’m looking forward to meeting him.”
They stood in silence for a moment. The night they’d spent together filled the space between them. Neither of them seemed to know what to say or if they should say anything at all. Truths had been declared and secrets shared. What did that mean for them though? She couldn’t go back with him. He could stay here with her, but she wouldn’t ask him to. Just because she’d given up her life to stay on this island didn’t mean she could expect the same from him.
“Thank you.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say.
He turned to her. “For?”
Where did she start? For not hating her. For not really betraying her. For saving her daughter. For fighting for Brodie. For supporting her. For still loving her. Smiling, she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his lean waist. “For being you.”
He opened his mouth, as if to retort, but then closed it without speaking. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her closer until she rested against him. “I’ll be whatever you want,” he whispered.
* * *
The clinic was a buzzing hive of activity. The air hummed with excitement and maybe relief. It hadn’t taken long for word to spread about Brodie’s awakening. The contagious happiness filling the air brought a smile to Ian’s face. Cameron tried her best to answer the neighbors’ questions, then send them on their way, but most of them wanted to see Brodie for themselves. Eventually, she ordered everyone out of the clinic so they wouldn’t disturb him. Even Esme now sat in the sunshine, her baby boy snuggled against her chest and her daughters playing in the grass at her feet. She sat with Luci and Aimee, who’d brought the girls to visit. Cameron may have gotten everyone out of the clinic, but they hadn’t gone home.
Ian’s first assessment of the building had been correct. It served as more than just a place to heal people. The islanders also used the building as a meeting house of sorts. The yard out front serving as picnic grounds.
“Brodie seems to be good.” Wes came to stand beside Ian, watching the islanders visit in the area around the clinic. He’d performed his own thorough check of Brodie’s body and vitals.
The injured man had opened his eyes a few more times and mumbled tortured words that made Ian hope he woke soon from whatever hell he faced in his mind. But, so far, he hadn’t regained full consciousness.
Wes shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “It’s going to take time for him to fully awaken. Even longer for him to move normally, but I think he just might manage it.”
Ian sent his friend a side-glance. “You doubted it?”
Wes shrugged. “At times.”
Normally, Ian would’ve doubted the man’s recovery as well, but something about this island and these people had given him hope.
Silence stretched between the two men as they continued watching the islanders visit. Cameron among them. She laughed with Aimee and Luci, spoke quietly with Edmund, and tasted the fruit someone offered her. All the while, a smile stretched her mouth. When she said this island was her home, she hadn’t lied. Any fool could see the happiness radiating from her, especially today. And Ian didn’t fit into any of this.
“Did the two of you talk?”
Ian smirked. “After the bomb you dropped yesterday? Hell yes, we talked.”
“And?” His friend’s expression held no apology.
“I never cheated on her. I never said I didn’t want our baby. How could you have believed I did?” That both Wes and Cameron, the two people who knew him best in the world, had believed him capable of lying and betraying Cameron’s trust, still stung.
“I believed Cameron,” Wes explained. “She wouldn’t have left without a damn good reason. She said she saw and heard—”
“She misunderstood.”
Now Wes smirked. “So, you did kiss Mallory and say—”
“She kissed me. I pushed her away and told her I didn’t want her, a child. If I had, for one second, thought Cameron had heard and misunderstood…”
“But she stepped into the ambush.”
“And our lives blew to hell.”
Scrubbing a hand over his face, Wes studied Cameron standing with Keso who’d just arrived with Arabella. Ian’s stomach tightened at the sight of the little family. He’d always thought he and Cameron looked good together, but he couldn’t deny she and Keso, with their adorable daughter, made a compelling picture. She may still love Ian, may have always loved him, but she’d also chosen to spend her life away from him, raising her daughter with this other man.
“With Hunte improving, you soon won’t have a reason to stay.”
Wrong. As long as Cameron was on the island, Ian had a reason to stay. The question was, would she want him to stay? True, he couldn’t stay here indefinitely. His job, his apartment, his life waited for him back home. But his heart was here. How the hell could he walk away without the best part of himself?
* * *
All around Cameron people laughed and talked. For days now, the island had been somber. Holding its breath. Waiting. It was as if, with the opening of Brodie’s eyes, a spell had been lifted. From the trees, Keso emerged with Arabella perched in his arms. Their green eyes searched the area, taking in the people milling around. The moment Arabella spotted her mother, her eyes lit up. Tapping her father with one hand, she pointed.
Cameron’s stomach twisted. When she’d left Keso at home with Arabella the night before, she’d planned to return. Instead, she’d stayed at the clinic with Ian. Had had sex with Ian… twice. Although she didn’t owe Keso her loyalty or her celibacy, guilt still settled uneasily in her gut.
A grin bloomed on Keso’s face. A total contradiction to the dark thoughts churning within Cameron.
“Doc.” With Ara held tight against him, he hurried across the thick undergrowth to her.
No sooner had he reached her than Ara leaned out of his arms, signaling for Cameron to take her. She didn’t mind. Holding her daughter would give her something to do with her arms, so at least she wouldn’t have that awkwardness to contend with.
“He woke up?” Keso’s voice was higher than normal, filled with excitement and hope.
She nodded. “Briefly, but yes.”
Breathing deeply, he ran a hand through his unruly hair. His shoulders lifted then fell as if with that one breath he released the weight of the island. “You did it. You saved him.” Tears he’d never let fall thickened his voice.
She opened her mouth to protest, but he silenced her with a quick press of his lips to hers. Heat raced up her neck, over her cheeks. Though she didn’t look, she knew Ian and Wes stood only meters away. Had Ian seen Keso kiss her? Would he think she wanted him to kiss her? Not that the quick peck had been anything more than a tactic to stop her protest.
Seeing nothing amiss, Keso continued. “You pulled him out of the water, Doc. You faced your fear. You went after him, and you brought him back to us.”
For the first time in years, Keso’s gaze burned with pride and love… for her. He never ceased to look at Arabella in awe, but not since she turned him out of her bed had he bestowed the look on Cameron.
Finally finding her voice, she replied, “I couldn’t let him die. Letting Esme, the girls, and… you face the world without Brodie was worse than the water.”
The tears that had clogged Keso’s throat filled his eyes now. Taking her shoulders in his work-worn hands, he pulled her to his chest, crushing Arabella between them.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “I don’t know what I’d do without him. Or you, Doc.”
Resting against his chest, she let the guilt overtake her. Guilt at standing in his embrace while Ian looked on. Guilt for wishing she were in Ian’s arms instead. Guilt for loving another man when Keso wanted a life with her. And guilt for loving Keso even when she knew it wasn’t enough.
* * *
In the ocean, a storm brewed. Already the sky had turned dark purple and black. Flashes of light punctuated the darkness behind the clouds and heavy gusts rattled the open windows. Normally, Cameron enjoyed storms. Being tucked in her cottage with her daughter and a good book while the wind howled and rain slashed felt oddly cozy. Not tonight. As her gaze trailed from the window to the empty shelf, a chill slid down her spine. The threatening storm only reminded her how isolated she and her neighbors were on this island, like sitting ducks in the middle of a frothy pond.
Creek stood from where he lay on the floor beside Ara’s sleeping spot on the couch. His ears lifted and the hair on the back of his neck rose. That chill down Cameron’s spine spread to her limbs. Goosebumps bloomed on her skin.
“Creek,” she whispered, trying to get the animal’s attention without waking her daughter.
Ignoring her, the dog prowled to the hallway. Frozen, Cameron stood as Creek sniffed the air. Suddenly, he darted to her bedroom. Low growls emitted from his throat. Despite her fear, Cameron wanted to follow and investigate, but Arabella lie sleeping peacefully on the couch. If she went into the bedroom, her daughter would be left alone.
Below the howl of the wind, came the sound of something against the door that led from her bedroom to the small porch. Her heart pounded until she feared the damn thing would split right out of her chest. Leaving Creek to investigate, she rushed to the couch and pulled Ara into her arms. She needed to get the girl to the safety of her bedroom. Though the smaller room had a window, the opening sat closer to the ceiling and was barely big enough to fit the little imp. Doubtful any of Victor Roberts’s men could get through. The girl protested being handled so roughly. Mumbling in her slumber, she tried to roll away.
Cameron wrestled with the girl. “Come on, baby. Let Mommy get you to bed.”
Ara mumbled some incoherent argument but went limp. With her focus still on the door, Cameron lifted her small burden, then shuffled backward to Ara’s room. What she wouldn’t give for a phone right now. Although she kept the sat phone in her room, it wouldn’t connect with anyone on the island. By the time someone answered and got to her, whatever threat she faced would be over. For better or for worse.
After depositing Ara on her bed, she covered the girl with a blanket, then ran back to the hall. She closed the door, hoping whoever wanted access to her home wouldn’t search out her daughter.
With trembling hands, she reached for the small pistol she’d placed on the table after Ara had fallen asleep. Normally, the gun stayed locked away on a high shelf in the back of her closet. Tonight, she needed its reassurance.
Checking that the chair she’d wedged under the front door handle was still secure, she moved down the hall. Creek still growled. So far, he hadn’t grown to full on barking. She crept toward her room with the gun gripped securely in her fist.
Sweat dotted her forehead. For the first time since coming to the island, she wished she had close neighbors. Someone to scare off an intruder. Someone to hear her if she screamed. Tonight, with the storm, no one would hear her… or Arabella.
The knob of her door jiggled. She’d twisted rope around it earlier to keep it from turning. Creek’s growls grew louder. He lunged at the door. Teeth bared. The jiggles ceased. Listening, the dog cocked his head, then spun away, racing down the hall.
Cursing under her breath, Cameron sprinted after him. Creek charged ahead, barks coming from deep in his throat. The front door banged against the chair she’d wedged beneath the knob.
Creek snarled at the door, but his threats did nothing to deter whoever tried to gain entrance.
“Go away,” Cameron yelled. Or tried to yell. Instead, her voice came out as barely a croak. She swallowed, coughed, and tried again. “Go away. There’s nothing for you here. I have a gun.” She released the safety, easing her finger over the trigger. “I’ll use it.”
The only answer was a hard jolt against the door.
“Go away.” So what if it sounded more like a plea than a demand? She just wanted this person far away from her and her daughter. She didn’t want to shoot them. As a doctor, she’d sworn to save lives, not take them. But when faced with choosing between Ara’s life and someone else’s, she wouldn’t hesitate.
Creek ran from the door to the window. Shit. She hadn’t thought to close the glass. Only a flimsy screen kept the intruder from entering the house. The door rattled again. This time so hard, the chair cracked. Fear exploded in Cameron’s chest at the same time Creek threw himself against the window screen with spit flying from his mouth.
The screen gave and the dog sailed through, landing on the porch. Cameron didn’t move. Instead, she stood with her gun trained on the open window. Footsteps pounded over the porch planks and Creek’s snarls grew fainter.
Too afraid to move, she stood frozen. Listening. Silence filled the house. Even Ara made no sound. Putting one foot behind the other, Cam shuffled backward to check on her daughter.
Arabella still lay in her bed, the blanket secured at her neck. Cameron let go of the breath she’d been holding. Flipping the safety back on the gun, she let her arm hang and leaned against the doorjamb.
A loud rap at the door shattered the relative silence of the night, pulling a scream from her throat. Arabella flinched but otherwise didn’t move. Back on alert, Cameron tightened her grip on the gun, then crept to the main room.
“Doc, something’s wrong with the door. I can’t get it open.”
Keso.
Close to crying in relief, she ran forward. The chair toppled to the floor as she kicked it aside and yanked open the door.
“Hey Doc. What…” Keso’s green eyes swept over her face, widening. His body tensed. He pushed into the house, closing the door behind him. With an iron grip, he took hold of her shoulders. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
His gaze burned intently into hers, as if he focused enough he could pull the answers he sought from her soul.
Adrenaline dumped from her system, causing her hands, then her body, to shake. How did she explain? She didn’t even know herself what had happened. Had whoever had been in her home come back? Was someone just visiting? Had it been the storm?
“I… I don’t know.” She bit her lip to keep it steady. “Someone was at the door. They… I think they were trying to get in. Creek went–oh my God. Creek. He went after them.”
Returning to the door, she threw it open. Keso came to stand behind her. Again, he placed his hands on her shoulders. This time, he massaged the tense muscles.
He bent, speaking against her ear. “What did Creek do?”
Shivering at the chill caused by his breath on her skin, she replied, “He went after them. Out the window.” She turned to show him the damage.
Unconcerned with the window, he encircled her in his arms and held her against his chest. “You’re okay?” His lips brushed her forehead.
Closing her eyes, she just let herself be held. Although she no longer sought pleasure in Keso’s arms, he’d always been a source of comfort for her.
“Could it have been a neighbor? Someone we know?” His muscles tensed. “Or maybe your boyfriend?”
Reflexively she said, “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Dr. Ian,” he growled.
There was that guilt again. “I can’t imagine what reason Ian would have for walking out here with a storm coming.”
She felt rather than saw Keso’s smirk. “I can.”
Had she overreacted? Maybe Ian had come by to check on her or… A blush warmed her cheeks. The memory of his body within hers just this morning made her core tighten. Achingly aware of why Ian may have come to her, she eased away from Keso. “Tomorrow I’ll ask around. Maybe Ian… or Wes needed me at the clinic. H-hopefully they can h-handle it now.”
Under Keso’s assessing gaze, heat washed over her,.
“Yeah.” Releasing her, he turned to the busted window. “I think this is salvageable. Why don’t I fix it?”
Not trusting herself to say more, she nodded.
“Mind if I take the couch again tonight?” Without waiting for an answer, he leaned through the window and retrieved the screen. “I think I hear Creek now.”
Closing her eyes, she focused on the sounds around her. Sure enough, she could hear the steady pad of the dog’s feet. As her breathing returned to normal and her heartbeat slowed, she went to greet him at the door.
“Do you really think it was just a neighbor?” She called as she waited in the doorway, staring out at the black night.
“Yeah, of course,” Keso replied, refusing to meet her gaze.
Creek trotted onto the porch. His large tongue hung out of his mouth.
“Hey boy.” Crouching, she opened her arms for him.
He ambled over, going into the shelter of her embrace.
“Good boy,” she cooed, scratching behind his ears. “Aren’t you…” Something thick and wet covered her hand. Jerking back, she looked down. Blood coated the dog’s snout. “Keso.”
At the sound of alarm in her voice, he dropped the screen and ran to her. “What? What’s wrong?”
Lifting her hands, she showed him the blood, then pointed to Creek’s snout.
Gently, Keso took the dog’s head in his hands, turning it side to side as he inspected the animal for injuries. “It’s not his.”
Creek knew everyone on the island. A loving, docile animal, he rarely barked. Biting had never been an issue. The only aggression he’d ever shown had been the day Victor Roberts and his men came to the clinic. Dread settled like a brick in her stomach.
“I’m thinking maybe it wasn’t a neighbor,” she whispered.