But if he was in pain, she was in trouble.
Stray puppy syndrome, her father called it. Orphaned pets. Abandoned fathers. Wounded men. She was a sucker for them every damn time.
Jolene clenched her fists as the familiar emotion sparked inside her. No, she warned herself. Dont do it. But despite his less than friendly response to her, Nate Kellisons secrets were already tugging at more than her curiosity. How had he hurt himself? When did it happen? Was he in pain right now?
Thankfully a loud eruption of male laughter diverted her attention and gave her an excuse to squelch that dangerous rise of compassion.
Jolene shifted her focus, grateful for the distraction.
Micky Flynn, the tall, flirtatious pilot, doffed her a salute and a handsome smile. Grinning, Jolene waved in return and watched him turn back to the new female volunteers. Unlike the ultra-intense Kellison, Micky was easy for most women to lust after. With his handsome face and daredevil personality, he was a natural-born lady-killer. But Micky and Jolene had never been more than friends. Maybe that was because she was the bosss daughter, a co-worker. Or maybe she was just too tied to the land to have much in common with a man who loved the sky.
She was all about home. Stability. Community. Taking care of her ranch. Taking care of her friends. Taking care of her family.
No matter how small that family might be.
Jolene flattened her hand against the blossoming curve of her belly and tried to picture the precious little boy growing inside her. Joaquin Angel, Jr., was a tiny miracle of modern science and answered prayers.
The science hadnt saved her husband, and the prayers had changed over the past few months. But she loved her little guy. He was hers alone now. And she cherished pending motherhood in a way her own mother never had.
One of those tender, butterfly flutters stirred beneath the press of her hand. At five months, he was still too small to deliver a real kick, but she could feel him shift inside her. An intuitive connection bonded them already. Hed know what it was like to grow up with only one parent, the way she had. Hed also know what it was like to have that one parent love him more than life itself.
The way she had.
Little Joaquin would never be abandoned. Not by choice. Not by fate. Ill always be here for you, sweetie, she crooned, stroking her belly as if she could caress the baby himself. Grandpa, too.
Jolene looked up, intent on finding her father, to tell him she loved him with one of their coded winks.
Though he was engaged in a conversation with Dr. Sherwood, he winked right back and she smiled. His steady reassurance grounded her in a way that nothing else ever had. She was proud of him. Still handsome at fifty with those piercing blue eyes and easy smile, he had a friendly confidence about him that commanded respect, as evidenced by the way Dr. Sherwood nodded her head, then quickly crossed to the supply shelves to do his bidding.
Her father pointed to Jolene and then the outside door, marching his fingers through the air in imitation of someone walking. Subtle hint. Not.
Jolene shook her head and mouthed, No way.
He shrugged and moved to the podium at the end of the room, where he picked up the latest printout from the weather bureau. He was such a worrier. A frown creased his brow as he pored over the stats, and she wished there wasnt a crowd or phone lines to monitor so she could run in and give him a hug.
Jolene knew her father carried the same sadness inside him that she did. A part of him would always love the beautiful woman whod left them twenty years ago for the bright lights of Hollywood. Of course, April Kannon had never become a star like the L.A. talent agent shed left with had promised. But shed found two more husbands willing to provide her with the glitz and glamour and excitement shed never found in tiny, remote Turning Point.
Mitch Kannon had been a rock when Jolenes mother had abandoned them. Hed been there for Jolenes first period, her first driving lesson, her first broken heart when shed realized boys didnt date plain, skinny girls who could outrun and outride them.
Hed held her when she announced she was marrying her best friendwhen she told him Joaquin was dying of cancer and that shed agreed to be artificially inseminated with his sperm to create a child whose bone marrow could save his life. Her father was by her side the day Joaquin lost his battle with cancer, the morning she buried him.
How could she not be here for him now that he needed her?
Ladies and gentlemen. Mitch Kannons booming bass voice rattled the glass. He rapped his knuckles against the podium to get everyones attention. If we could get started. Its already a few minutes past eight, and I have a feeling were going to have a long day. First, I want to brief you on the current weather forecast. Then well review procedure, what we can and should expect as far as casualties, and then Ill get you to your assignments.
Nate Kellison reentered with Doyle Brown, but hung back, opting to perch on the corner of a counter near the back of the room while Doyle took a seat in a chair closer to the podium.
There Nate sat, watching again. Friendly enough to get the job done, but not Texas friendly.
Whats your story, California? Jolene whispered the rhetorical words to the glass.
What was he doing? Evaluating the acoustics of the room? Looking for a chair beside a pretty woman he could get friendly with? She wondered if it was arrogance or professionalism or something more personal that pushed him to maintain such control over himself and the space around him.
The ringing of the telephone cut short her speculation about the visiting paramedic, and she turned to take the call. It wasnt a 9-1-1 call through the radio or emergency line. That probably meant it was another lost evacuee.
Jolene snapped up the receiver and grabbed her notepad. Turning Point Fire Station. This is Jolene. How can I help you?
Jolene? Thank God. Its me The sharp catch of a familiar voice, followed by a low-pitched moan, put Jolene on immediate alert.
Lily? Are you all right? Jolene checked her watch and jotted down the time. The moan ended with a series of shallow, repetitive breaths. She didnt need a medical degree to figure out why her friend Lily Browning had called. Nine months pregnant and due any day, the woman had gone into labor. Where are you?
Im at home. Home was the Rock-a-Bye Ranch, just a few miles down the road from the Double J spread Jolene had inherited from Joaquin. If this is what I think it is, Im about a week early.
Lily sounded remarkably calm, now that the contraction had passed, giving Jolene a chance to hear the whoop of one of the three Browning boys hollering in the background. Jolene cupped her own belly and grinned, sending up a prayer that her son would be every bit as healthy and happy as Lilys were.
But she knew her neighbor hadnt called to share the joys and frustrations of motherhood the way they had so many mornings over herbal tea in one kitchen or the other. Jolene pushed to her feet, shedding her wistful thoughts and becoming the professional caretaker she needed to be. With Doc Holland gone, the clinics still closed. Youll have to get Gabe to drive you over to the Kingsville hospital. Ill call ahead and tell them to expect you.
But this wasnt going to be as easy as a phone call.
Gabe isnt here. He had to go out of town on business. He must have gotten caught in the evac traffic. He was driving back through Dallas to get my mom to come help watch the kids when the baby comes. A shout for Mom! and a stampede of little feet crescendoed in the background. A rustling sound muffled Lilys stern warning.