From the moment she’d walked through the doors of Independence Falls High in her freshman year, the other kids had left her alone as if her condition was contagious. Halfway through her first semester she’d started to wonder if “orphaned at six” was listed in the science books alongside leprosy. Her situation felt like a disease, spreading and growing worse each time she moved from one foster family to another. She’d become a shadow to everyone but the local police, who’d started appearing in her teenage life with regular frequency.
But she wasn’t a teenager anymore. Dr. Katherine Arnold had walked away from the labels that had tormented her throughout high school—orphan and troublemaker. At eighteen, she’d packed everything she owned in an industrial strength trash bag and headed for the one place that wanted her. College. A perfect SAT score and a heartfelt essay offered a way out of the town than had branded her unworthy.
Now, she’d returned looking so different that no one would connect Dr. Katherine Arnold with Kat, the juvenile delinquent orphan from the wrong side of town. Not that she’d ever planned to return to Oregon. But when Dr. Westbury, her mentor and the doctor in charge of her clinical trial, broke her ankle, Kat had packed her bags and agreed to fill in for the esteemed neurologist.
Kat could have called off the trip and pulled Josh Summers from the trail. The severity of his accident and subsequent symptoms didn’t exactly line up with the rest of the patients in the trial. Kat had a feeling Dr. Westbury had noted Josh Summer’s address and envisioned a relaxing trip through Oregon wine country. Instead, Kat had boarded the plane, determined to show Independence Falls that she’d succeeded despite the fact they’d cast her aside over and over.
But tonight, before they drove to his hometown, she wanted Brody to get to know the person she’d become. She wanted him to look at her for a few hours and see her. Not Dr. Katherine Arnold, his brother’s doctor, or Kat, the awkward, friendless girl no one wanted to talk to growing up. Brody Summers would never mess around with his brother’s doctor. And connecting the woman he’d wanted on the sidewalk with the girl who’d clung to the shadows as a teenager wouldn’t help.
For the first time in her life, Kat felt as if fate was handing her a fairy tale—a few carefree hours with the man of her dreams. Summoning the you-can’t-intimidate-me attitude she’d fine-tuned in college and perfected in medical school, she stepped into the bar. And Brody reached for his phone.
Moving toward the empty bar stool at his side, Kat’s gaze fixed on her old crush. He was reading a text message.
“Shit,” he muttered, setting the phone down and lifting his pint glass to his lips.
Kat rested her hands on the back of the leather bar stool beside him. “You don’t look like a man ready to celebrate his amazing recovery.”
Brody glanced over his shoulder. His mouth formed a line thin. The look in his deep brown eyes . . .
Kat caught herself before instinct pushed her to run. The agony staring back at her was too familiar.
His brow furrowed. “My recovery?”
“From your tumble on the sidewalk?” She forced a smile, though she knew from experience that laughter and teasing didn’t help, not when pain had a choke hold on your emotions. Still, halfhearted jokes were sometimes the only defense. “Did the hotel shower erase the aches?”
“I’m fine.”
You’re lying.
She pulled the stool away from the bar. “Mind if I join you?”
He stared at her hands, resting on the back of the bar stool. For a second she wondered if he’d reach out, covering her hand with his.
“I’m not good company tonight,” he said finally. “Just came down for a beer.”
“But the fact that you’re here, in the bar, tells me you didn’t want to be alone.”
“I called room service, but the wait was over an hour.”
Kat slid onto the leather seat. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Brody’s too serious gaze drop to her skirt, watching the fabric slide up her thighs. She signaled the bored young woman behind the bar who’d spe
nt every minute since Kat had walked in with her fingers dancing over the keys on her tablet. “A glass of Oregon pinot noir, please.”
Brody’s phone vibrated and he scooped it off the bar, scanning another message on the screen.
“Good news?”
“No.” He set the cell down and looked over at her. His lips parted but he hesitated as if debating how much to tell this woman he still believed to be a total stranger. “I’m part of the volunteer search and rescue squad. A family visiting from out of state—mom, dad, and two kids ages twelve and ten—went for a hike on Mount Hood a few days ago and never came back. We found the parents and the twelve-year-old this morning. Dehydrated and hungry, but otherwise OK. No sign of the younger kid. According to his parents, their son fell off a ledge. They left the trail to find him, but got lost.”
Kat nodded, her mind calculating the time frame, potential injuries, and the child’s age. Based on those details, the outlook wasn’t good.
“Have you worked search and rescue for long?” she asked.
“Five years all in. But lately I’ve been going out on more searches. I just started helping teams in other counties. I guess I’m new to the big rescues. In the past, I did a lot of sprained ankles and lost hikers. When I had the time to go out at all.”
“It takes a while.” She raised her wineglass and took a sip. “To separate your work, the job you need to do, from the fact that a child might die.”
Brody studied her as if trying to blend his vision of a first responder with her skirt and heels.