She pulled back, blinked the emotion away and smiled at Zach. “Are you my ride home?”
Zach’s radio cued him. He listened, responded and hooked a thumb toward Tanner. “I’ve got a call across the lake. Tanner, can you get Julia home?”
* * *
Tanner saw a shadow of reluctance in Julia’s gaze. About riding with him? Going home? He had no idea, but the quick look surprised him. “Glad to. Where’s home?”
“I’m on Upper Lake Road, just beyond the Lodge.”
Tanner pulled out his hat and gloves, realized Julia had left hers in his cruiser, and handed them to her. “I’ll pull my SUV up to the ER entrance so you don’t have to walk out in the snow. But wear these until you get to the car because the windchill is wicked.”
“But—”
He ignored her protests as he strode into the storm. Five minutes later, he was at the ER door, waiting for her. She climbed in quickly, set his hat and gloves on the space between them, and settled into the seat.
She looked exhausted.
And pretty, despite the banged-up face. The way she sat back, as if allowing herself time to relax didn’t happen often, told him Julia Harrison looked after others first, and then maybe took time for herself.
“So, Julia, what do you do, exactly?”
“I’m a midwife and women’s health practitioner.”
Tanner’s fingers tightened around the wheel.
“Our practice was awarded a state grant recently,” she went on. “We bought the strip mall location about eight months back. Now we have the approvals in place to get it ready. Once the cleanup work is complete, we’ll set up three exam rooms, a waiting room and reception area—”
“With bulletproof glass,” he muttered as he made the turn onto Upper Lake Road.
“It’s a tough area,” she acknowledged, “but I think you run a risk anytime you set up an outreach like this. It didn’t stop Mother Teresa, and it didn’t stop Jesus.” She shrugged. “I like to think this clinic will reflect James’s teaching in the Bible. He said faith without works is dead. And while I love our practice, a lot of women don’t have the money or insurance to come to our main office, or they shy away because they’re afraid they don’t fit in. This way, they don’t have to do without needed care. And the area isn’t as bad as you make out,” she added with a pointed look in his direction.
“No?” He wouldn’t argue with her because she was fresh out of the hospital, but the lower end of Kirkwood Lake bordered some tough areas of Clearwater. Still, everyone deserved medical care. He believed that. But the thought of a pregnancy center, run by a midwife, right under his nose...
Was this God’s idea of a joke? Considering his loss, it felt more like a stab in the back to have Julia Harrison and her health care ideas parked in front of him.
“I think people will be pleased by the idea of medical care at the interstate entrance,” she continued. “That way we’re only a few minutes’ drive for folks in the hills...”
The rural poor of northern Appalachia was a documented fact, a problem that had existed for generations.
“And the people who’ve fallen on hard times in Clearwater are close, too.”
“Plenty of those, unfortunately. The loss of jobs messed up a lot of folks.”
“It did.” Julia puffed out a breath of air, then turned his way. “But I’ve always felt that each step we take toward making things better has some good effect. Even if we don’t see it.”
Was she right?
Tanner wasn’t so certain. Was that because of his work, his past? Or was he a negative jerk who always looked at the dark side because he’d been surrounded by that kind of environment as a child? Lately, he wasn’t sure. “You’re an optimist.”
“I hope so.” She motioned up ahead. “That’s my place on the left, with the red reflectors at the bottom of the driveway.” He made the turn up the snow-filled drive, pulled to a stop and she climbed out before he had a chance to get out and open her door.
Her actions said she liked her independence. Five hours ago he might have considered those undesirable qualities in a woman, but seeing how calmly she reacted to the scene at the clinic, then the accident and the hospital—
Maybe a strong, independent woman wasn’t a bad thing.
She quirked a grin his way and gave him a quick salute as she grabbed her purse and medical bag, the only things they’d retrieved from her rental car. “Thank you again. I’m sure proximity will mean we see more of each other, and I’m going to hope for two things.”
“And they are?”
“First, less snow and ice.” She made a face into the driving storm. “And second, if I do run into that trouble you’re expecting, you and my brother are around to save me. Again.”
Tanner knew that sector as well as anyone. Trouble would find her, no question. Would he be hanging close by to make regular runs to a pregnancy center?
Most likely not, but he didn’t need to share that at the moment. “Get inside. Get warm. And good luck finding someone to rent you another car.”
She laughed as she dashed up the rest of the driveway and through the garage door.
Lights clicked on inside, behind pulled-back lace curtains.
He considered that as he backed around to pull out of her sloped driveway.
He wouldn’t have tagged her as a lace curtain girl. As he drove south toward the interstate, he wondered what else he might have gotten wrong about Julia Harrison.
He pulled into the barracks lot, parked and went inside to complete required paperwork and file his report before he headed home. He didn’t want to think about babies and midwives, old dreams and harsh reality. He wanted justice and explanations.
But right now, he wanted a good night’s sleep. Restless dreams messed that up. Convoluted images of children and families floated through his brain. Each year he dreaded the double anniversaries. The day he lost his wife, and the day after, when his son took his last breath.
The shift commander called him late morning. “Johnson’s out with flu. Can I put you in for an extra afternoon shift today and an overnight tomorrow?”
“Absolutely.” He didn’t say he’d longed for a call like this. Only the commander in Jamison knew his history, and Alex Steele wasn’t the kind to betray a confidence. But Alex could empathize because he knew what it meant to bury a wife. “I’ll be there by two.”
The work respite pushed him into gear. He’d made it a habit to follow up on accident victims, which meant a quick call to Zach’s sister. Mixed emotions rose as he dialed her number on his way to his car. Julia the person was intriguing in multiple ways.
Julia the midwife? Not so much. But that was his problem, not hers. She answered on the second ring. “Julia Harrison.”
“It’s Tanner Reddington, Julia. I wanted to check in and see how you’re doing today.”
“Before or after the tree fell on my house during last night’s storm?”
He stopped walking, certain he’d misunderstood. “What?”
“A tree. Fell on my house.”
Was she serious? “Are you okay?”
“Fine.