Cinnamon Roll Heroes Bundle

Chapter One, Flash Point

Cale Jackson swore he saw a ghost.

He blinked hard and looked back down the emergency room hallway from outside the big sliding door.

It was Rachel Culver, he realized, and started breathing again. Doctor Rachel Culver, it appeared.

Even once he identified her, he couldn’t help thinking she was pretty in a natural, didn’t-take-time-to-doll-herself-up way. She was the shorter-haired, serious version of the woman he’d loved. It seemed as if he knew Noelle’s twin sister better than he did because Noelle had talked about Rachel so much, with the pride, frustration, and love only a twin sister could experience.

Once he recovered from his initial shock, he urged himself forward, helping his partner roll their patient from the ambulance into the hospital. Directly toward his once-almost sister-in-law, who was too absorbed in one of the computer terminals to notice him.

Even though Rachel’s chin-length hair was shorter than Noelle’s had been, it was the same shiny golden color. Rachel’s current intense, focused expression had seldom been found on fun-loving Noelle’s face, but they’d shared round cheekbones, a narrow nose, and those eyes…

Cale’s partner, Rafe Sanchez, who’d recently been promoted to paramedic captain in the San Amaro Island department, started briefing the triage nurse on the accident victim, who was in stable condition, as they walked. They wheeled him toward the room at the end as directed, then transferred him to the gurney. Cale slipped outside to start on the documentation.

Rachel remained at the nurses’ station, her hair tucked behind her ear, attention focused on the screen in front of her. He walked up to the opposite side of the counter and debated with himself whether to call her by her first name or Dr. Culver. Before he could decide, she looked up.

Cale braced himself for the deep green-blue gaze, but still, it struck him like an electric current when their eyes met. Beautiful eyes so achingly familiar they made something inside him twist into a tight coil.

Rachel did a double take and put a hand to her chest. Her face registered shock for an instant before she was able to mask it, and she lowered her hand. Threw on a too-wide smile.

“Cale,” she said in a voice reminiscent of Noelle’s but lower in pitch and volume. More restrained. Restrained wasn’t a word he’d ever used to describe his fiancée.

Rachel glanced at the emblem on his uniform shirt. “I didn’t realize you were an EMT.”

“I’m still a lieutenant for the fire department most days. We do medical rotations once a month.” He wasn’t sure why he threw in that he was an officer. As if he needed her to respect him. “And you finished med school. Congratulations.”

“I did. Mostly intact even. I’m living at home with my mom for a while though, so some days it seems like I’ve regressed.”

“Same thing happened to me whenever I used to go home to see my parents on the ranch. And that was only for a few days at a time.”

She smiled sympathetically, but Cale suspected that what she was dealing with, living in a home that was so familiar and yet lacking such a key part of her family, went far beyond the awkwardness of staying at his parents’ home as an adult. In fact, it was probably similar to the soul-deep pain that had come over him the one time since Noelle’s death that he’d dared to set foot in the condo he’d bought to share with her.

There was an uncomfortable lull between them. He wanted to say something, to reach out to her, to prolong the moment, but no words came. It wasn’t the time or place for a conversation of any substance anyway. They were connected by tragedy and not much else, but he suddenly had the urge to talk about Noelle like he hadn’t since her death. With someone who’d known her as well as he had. Better, even.

Their silence dragged on, and the surrounding din of busy people became noticeable. Now that he was close to her, he could see the shadows under her eyes. Like Noelle, she was barely over five feet tall — she didn’t seem big enough to handle this position she’d taken on as an ER doctor. Until he noticed the determined set of her jaw. At that moment, he was reminded of Noelle’s belief in this woman, and he knew she’d do just fine with her new career. More than just fine.

“Will I see you at the meeting tomorrow night?” he asked, searching for common ground.

“Meeting?”

“Planning meeting for the benefit. Maybe your mom hasn’t had time to tell you what she’s doing yet.”

“Ah,” Rachel said, fidgeting with the hem of her scrub shirt. “The asthma benefit. I… I can’t give that kind of time commitment right now, what with my new job and everything…”

The flash of sadness in her eyes was so fleeting that Cale nearly missed it, and then she attempted to cover it up with another forced wide grin.

He nodded as if he understood, though he didn’t. Sure, finally becoming a full-fledged doctor after all her years of schooling and residencies and who knew what else was a big deal. Huge. But to use that as an excuse to skip out on organizing the fundraiser that would memorialize her twin sister? He wondered if there was more to that than just being busy and adjusting to her career. Noelle had told him repeatedly that Rachel thrived on stress and being over-scheduled, jokingly referring to her as her Wonder Twin.

Rafe’s voice carried from the exam room, pulling Cale back to his task. “Guess I better get the info entered.”

She nodded briskly. “I need to check on patients myself.”

“It’s good to see you, Rachel,” he said without even considering her title this time.

“You too.” She again flashed a smile that didn’t quite ring true and then hurried off down the hallway…away from the exam rooms where her patients were likely waiting for her. She passed several of her colleagues and other hospital workers, and it struck him: not one of them acknowledged Rachel with a smile or a hello. She might have grown up on the island, but it appeared that she’d been away long enough to be the new girl. Between that and her sister’s death, she seemed to be forging her way alone. Something in him stirred, most likely that part that couldn’t keep from intervening when someone was struggling.