The girl, Manuela, explained to her mother in a flood of Spanish, and they all trooped into the cement block building that appeared to be home.
A few minutes later he tousled Juan’s hair. “You’re going to be fine, young man.” He glanced at Terry, naming the medications he wanted. “You have all that at the clinic?”
She nodded. “I’ll run over and get them.”
“Wait. I’ll drive you.” And we’ll talk. He turned back to Manuela. “I’m writing down all the instructions for you. It’s very important to give him liquids, but just a little at a time. A couple of sips every ten or fifteen minutes. You’ll make sure your mother understands?”
“Yes, doctor.” She straightened, as if with pride. “I will take care of Juan myself. Everything will be done exactly as you say.”
“Good girl. You sound as if you’d make a good doctor or nurse one day.”
He saw something in her face then—an instant of longing, dashed quickly by hopelessness. He’d seen that look before. It shouldn’t be found on children’s faces.
“I would like, yes. But it’s not possible. This is my life.” Her gesture seemed to take in the fields, the building, the people.
“But, Manuela—” Terry began.
He shook his head at her and she fell silent. Now was not the time. But her expression made him fear Terry was taking off on another crusade.
“Well, you can practice your skills with your little brother.” He handed her the instructions. “Do you understand all that?”
She read through it quickly and nodded.
“Good girl. He’ll be a lot more comfortable once we get his fever down. We’ll be back in a few minutes with the medication, okay?”
“Okay.” Her smile blossomed, seeming to light the drab room.
He glanced at Terry. “Shall we go?”
She picked up her kit. “I’m ready.”
They walked to the car in silence. He’d intended to read the riot act to Terry once they were alone, but by the time they were bouncing down the lane, his anger had dissipated.
She was the one to break the silence. “Why did you come?”
He shrugged. “I wanted to check on how the first day went. Instead I found your car there, you gone. This seemed the likely place.”
“You mean you expected me to break the rules.” She sounded ready for battle.
“Let’s say I wasn’t entirely surprised.”
“The child was sick. What did you expect me to do?”
“You should have called me. Look, Terry, I understand why you went, but that’s not acceptable. If it happens again, I’ll pull the plug on the clinic.”
Her hands clenched into fists on her knees. “You’re pretty good at that, aren’t you? Cutting your losses.”
The jab went right under his defenses, leaving him breathless for an instant. He yanked the wheel, pulling to a stop in front of the clinic. Before she could get out, he grabbed the door handle, preventing her from moving. They were very close in the dark confines of the car.
“I thought we were going to leave the past behind.” He grated the words through the pain.
“I’m sorry.” It was a bare whisper, and the grief arced between them. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No. You shouldn’t have.”
This was no good. They were both trapped by what had happened, and he didn’t see that ever changing.
Chapter Four
Terry walked back into the clinic, aware of Jake pacing behind her. Why didn’t he just leave and let her take care of getting the meds to Manuela? The last thing she needed was to have him trailing along behind her as if she couldn’t be trusted to do a simple thing like this.
And does he know that he can trust you, Theresa? The voice of her conscience sounded remarkably like her mother. You certainly haven’t shown him that you’ll follow his rules so far.
Even worse, she’d brought up the past that both of them knew they’d have to ignore if they were to have any sort of working relationship. She had to do better—had to find a way to curb her tongue, along with that Flanagan temper that flared too easily.
She took a small cooler from the shelf and began filling it with ice.
“The antibiotic doesn’t have to be refrigerated.”
He was second-guessing her already. She would not reply in kind, but her lip was going to get sore from biting it if she had to be around Jake too much.
“I know. I thought Manuela could give Juan some ice chips to suck on.”
He gave a short nod and took the cooler from her, holding it while she scooped the rest of the ice in. “Where is the drug box?” His voice sharpened. “Surely you didn’t leave it here with the clinic unattended.”
She held back a sarcastic reply with more control than she’d thought she possessed. She met his gaze. “It’s locked in the trunk of my car.”
“Good.” He snapped the word, but then he shook his head. “Sorry. That wasn’t an accusation.”
She supposed that was an olive branch. A good working relationship, she reminded herself. You don’t have to like the man, just get along with him professionally.
“I know. Believe me, being responsible for that drug box is at the top of my list.” She hesitated. How much more should she say about what had happened tonight? “My family always accuses me of leaping before I look. I guess I proved them right tonight, didn’t I? I reacted on instinct.”
That was an apology, if he’d take it that way.
“Fast reactions are important for first responders like paramedics—”
She had a feeling there was a but coming at the end of that sentence. “Don’t forget I’m a firefighter, too. Sometimes it’s tough to keep the jobs sorted out.”
He blinked. “I didn’t realize that. In the city, being a paramedic is a full-time job.”
“It’s what I’m doing most of the time, but our department isn’t all that big. When an alarm comes, I do whatever I have to.” She smiled. “Can’t let the rest of the family down.”
Now she’d confused him. “The rest of the family?”
“All of the Flanagans are associated with the fire department in one way or another. My father and one of his brothers started the tradition, and our generation just carried it on. Even my cousin, Brendan, the one you met at the board meeting—”
He nodded, frowning a little, as if that board meeting wasn’t the happiest of memories.
“Brendan’s the pastor of Grace Church, but he’s also the fire department chaplain. He manages to put himself in harm’s way a little too often to suit his wife. The others—well, you’ll meet them all at the picnic on Sunday.”
This was the point at which he could make some excuse to get out of Mom’s impulsive invitation. He probably wanted to.
“I’ll look forward to that.” He paused, his arm brushing hers as he reached for the lid of the cooler. “Unless that’s going to be uncomfortable for you. If you’d prefer I not come, I’ll respect that.”
He was too close, and she was too aware of him. Instead of looking up at his face, she focused on his capable fingers,