“He’s got insurance. Workman’s comp. Whatever he needs—”

“You can give all that information to our receptionist out front.”

Nita hoped the woman wasn’t suggesting Nita might not do everything necessary for the patient. “My only concern is taking care of his injury.”

“Look. If he needs to go to a hospital or something—”

“My decisions regarding his course of treatment are not based upon his ability to pay.” Nita regarded Deo with annoyance. “I didn’t get your name.”

“Deo Camara. I’m his boss. And his cousin.” Deo thought about extending her hand, but for some reason she didn’t. She had the uneasy feeling she was acting like an ass chasing after the doctor, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. This woman was so cool and detached and dismissive. Maybe that was it. She wasn’t used to women just brushing her off. Usually she was the one that had to do the kissing off.

Nita took a breath and struggled to regain her professional composure. Deo could hardly help the way she looked. Her manners could stand some polish, but she was probably worried. “As soon as I complete my evaluation I’ll let you both know what needs to be done.”

“He works with his hands.”

“I understand.” Nita glanced at Deo’s hands, curled at her sides.

They were the same dark bronze as her face, broad and strong, capable looking hands. An irregular white ribbon of damaged tissue slashed across the top of her left hand from the base of her thumb to the opposite side of her wrist. An old scar from what must have been a painful injury.

• 19 •

RADCLY fFE

Sympathetically, she said, “I can see you’ve had some experience with this kind of thing.”

Following her gaze, Deo stiffened and tightened her fi st until the skin turned pale and the scar disappeared. “No.”

Nita’s immediate impulse was to apologize, because she heard not anger, but pain in Deo’s voice. Then a sudden realization turned her cold inside. She knew nothing of this woman except that she was beautiful and at the moment, in pain. A dangerous combination that she found all too compelling, and exactly the kind of woman she wanted nothing to do with.

“I’ll be in to see your cousin in just a few moments,” Nita said, then pulled a chart off the nearest door and quickly stepped inside.

Deo stared at the closed door, feeling the sudden silence in the hall like a weight on her chest. She had let a stranger stir her up, and worse, rouse banished memories. No one did that. She never let anyone close enough to risk awakening those unforgiven sins.

❖

“Is Reese home yet?” Tory asked breathlessly as she hurried through the door into the sunny living room. She petted the concrete block-sized head of the Mastiff that ambled to greet her. “Hi Jedi.”

“Not yet.” Kate, a blond version of her dark-haired, blue-eyed daughter Reese, held out a squirming toddler to Tory. “And the birthday girl has been asking.”

“Hey, honey,” Tory said, taking her daughter. Reggie replied with a string of excited words, the bulk of which sounded like ma ma ma ma ma. Tory laughed. “That’s me. Well, one of them anyways.”

When she kissed Reggie’s forehead, the wind coming in from the open door to the deck off the living area blew her hair into Reggie’s face. Reggie promptly grabbed a handful and held it to her mouth.

Reggie’s red gold locks were lighter than Tory’s own auburn hair and her eyes more blue than green, but everyone said they could see Tory in Reggie. Sometimes when Tory looked at her daughter, she was struck with helpless wonder at what a miracle she was. At the sound of the screen door closing, Tory lifted her eyes from her daughter to the other miracle in her life.

• 20 •

Winds of Fortune

When she returned from Iraq, Reese had been thinner than Tory had ever seen her, as if the desert winds and searing heat and senseless, relentless death had carved away everything except what she needed to survive. But she had survived. And she had come home. Wounded, disillusioned, weary in body and soul. But alive. She had come home where she was loved and needed.

With her coal black hair trimmed neatly at her collar, her intense deep-blue eyes, and her imposing body in a crisp khaki uniform, Sheriff Reese Conlon radiated strength. But Tory saw what others didn’t.

Though Reese insisted she was recovered, she was still too thin, and there were still too many shadows under her eyes and in her eyes. Tory knew Reese tried to hide them, just as she knew that she tried to hide the fact that she rarely slept an entire night—or even more than an hour at a time. She didn’t know if Reese would ever talk about what haunted her. Not all pain could be purged. Until the time came, if it ever came, when Reese asked her to share that pain, Tory would give her the only thing she had to give—herself, in every way she could.

Tory smiled at her lover. “Hello, darling.”

“Hi, baby. I’m sorry I’m late.” Reese tossed her uniform hat and car keys onto the counter that separated the kitchen from the living area, smiled at her mother, and strode across the room to Tory. She put her arms around her and the baby, kissed Tory gently, and nuzzled Reggie’s neck, making her laugh. “Hi, Champ.”

“You’re not late. I just got here myself.” Handing the baby off to Kate, Tory rested her head on Reese’s shoulder, still unable to forget what it had been like being without her. She had gotten up in the morning, had cared for Reggie, and had gone to the clinic and looked after her patients while all the time sensing that some essential part of herself was missing. She had never experienced anything as frightening as the hollow ache inside that she had known without doubt would never be fi lled if Reese did not come home. “I love you.”

“Me too,” Reese whispered. Reluctantly, she let Tory go and glanced around the house. “So where’s the party?”

“Jean is picking up some last minute things at the store,” Kate said, referring to her lover. “Pia called a little while ago and said she and KT were on their way. I assume you know where Bri and Nelson are?”

• 21 •

RADCLY fFE

“Oh hell,” Tory muttered. “I wonder if anyone called Pia and told her Joey was hurt.”

“What’s the matter with Joey?” Reese asked, stopping near the closet where she stored her gun belt.

“I’m not sure, exactly. Deo brought him into the clinic just as I was leaving.” Tory unclipped her cell phone from her waistband. “I’d better track Pia down and let her know.”

“Let me know what?” Pia Torres said as she came through the door holding hands with her lover, Dr. KT O’Bannon. She hefted the bottle of wine she carried in her other hand. “Let me dump this in the kitchen.”

KT, tall, dark-haired, and roguishly good-looking, kissed Tory on the cheek. “Hi, Vic.”

Tory smiled at the old nickname and felt KT studying her. KT

could read her face better than anyone in the world except Reese. There had been a time when KT had been her world, before the wild and wildly attractive surgeon had strayed one too many times and fi nally crushed Tory’s innocence. Now, KT had found Pia, a woman who gave her the freedom she needed never to leave. Pia embraced the dangerous parts of KT that Tory hadn’t been able to, and in recognizing that, Tory had fi nally been able to accept how much goodness there was in her ex-lover and how much love they still shared.

“Deo brought Joey into the clinic just as I was leaving,” Tory said as Pia walked over. “He had some kind of accident with a saw at work.

Nita’s evaluating him.”

“Oh my God.” Pia grabbed KT’s arm. “I have to go over there. I don’t want my mother to hear anything until I know what’s going on.”

“It’s okay, babe. Nita’s good.” KT slid an arm around Pia’s waist,

“Come on, we’ll go right now. I’ll drive.”

“I’ve got the cruiser,” Reese said. “I’ll take you, Pia.”

“You’ll take us both,” KT corrected.

“Actually, you’ll take all of us,” Tory said, hurrying to join the group. She called over her shoulder to Kate, “I’ll update you as soon as I can. Keep the ice cream cold.”

• 22 •

Winds of Fortune

CHAPTER TWO

Nita,” Tory said quietly from the door. “Can you talk?”

Surprised, Nita looked up from examining Joey’s hand and swiveled on the short metal stool to face Tory. “Back already? What’s up?”

“Joey’s sister is here. Do you mind if she comes in to see him?”

Tory nodded to Deo. “Hi, Deo.”

“Crap,” Joey muttered. “I told you we should call her.”

“Jesus, Joey,” Deo scoffed. “Did you want me to call your mommy too?”

Ignoring the back-and-forth behind her, Nita gestured to Joey’s hand draped in sterile towels on the table. She had yet to repair the damage and it didn’t look pretty. “She might want to wait until we get him cleaned up a little bit more.”

“Pia is a hand therapist. She’ll be fi ne with it,” Tory explained.

Nita raised her eyebrows. She didn’t mind family in the room when she was working. Medical personnel, however, sometimes took special handling, because they usually wanted to direct the treatment.

This sounded like one of those situations.

“KT’s here too.” Tory looked mildly chagrined.

“Ah,” Nita said, the pieces suddenly falling into place. She’d worked with KT a few times right after Reese had been captured in Iraq and Tory had needed extra help in the clinic. She recalled now Randy mentioning over lunch one day that KT’s lover was an occupational therapist in town. “Well, you might as well all come on in.”

After covering Joey’s hand with moist gauze, Nita rose and stripped off her gloves. Then she went to intercept the group just inside the door to the treatment room. The woman with KT and Tory looked like an elegant version of Deo and Joey. She had the same glossy, wavy black hair and dark expressive eyes. Her skin was a slightly lighter shade than theirs, closer to her own, and her features a little more fi nely