that had collided with a large yacht filled with passengers. She recognized a few faces from the faculty of the local university. They were all very lucky; apparently, due to the quick action of someone on the yacht, there had been no drownings.
Drinking and driving was hardly regulated enough on land to suit Mary. People could have died, and did die in such accidents, and there wasn’t even any law to prohibit drunken speedboating. She had been born and raised in Cherry Bay, and had heard many stories similar to the one she heard now. It never failed to outrage her.
The last patient needing attention was one of the drunken young men, waiting sullenly in one of the cubicles. He needed stitches in his arm, and she attended to him in thin-lipped silence.
One of his friends was standing beside him, glowering. Except for their size, they looked like petulant, unrepentant boys.
They were arguing in a heated undertone about the accident. “Didn’t I tell you? You should have let me drive,” said the one Mary was stitching.
The other one sneered, “Let you drive? For God’s sake, Peter, you can’t even sit up straight.”
“God, my dad is gonna kill me. And you, Trevor— he’s gonna kill you, too. Do you know how much that boat cost him? Thirty thousand dollars! How’m I gonna tell him his precious boat is sitting at the bottom of the lake right now?”
The image of the ashen-faced child with the broken leg flashed through Mary’s mind, and she controlled the urge to bash both of them over the head with an instrument tray. She finished the job and reached for bandages.
Trevor ran his hands through his damp hair, jerked up his chin and said belligerently, “It wasn’t my fault, I tell you. Hell, they swerved in front of me—and anyway, his insurance’ll cover it. No problem.”
That did it. She slapped down her handful of bandages, rounded on him and said tightly, “Get out.”
He ogled her, mouth slack. Then his face flushed, and he said insolently, “Sure thing, sweetie. Soon’s you’re done patching up my friend here.”
She said icily, “My name is not ‘sweetie’. My name is Dr. Newman, and I have a job to finish here. The police must be here by now, so why don’t you go tell your story to them—or haven’t you got it straight yet?”
Alarm registered in Trevor’s face and he started to back away. “Maybe I better take off, Pete—”
Fury darkened the other man’s cheeks. “And leave me to clean up your mess? No way, dammit—”
He lunged off the gurney toward Trevor, knocking against Mary, who stumbled back, lost her footing, and sat down on the floor so hard her teeth jarred together. Shock held her frozen for a moment, then with a thrill of fear she scrambled to her feet and opened her mouth to shout for help as the two men surged back and forth like prizefighters.
What came next happened so fast all Mary saw was a blur of movement. One moment the two men were grappling each other and cursing, then the next moment Trevor was subdued on the floor, and Peter was back on the gurney where he belonged, with a large, powerful hand locked around his throat. Mary’s huge gaze followed the hand back to its owner.
It belonged to a long, lean, hard-muscled body dressed in faded cutoff jeans and a skintight black sleeveless shirt. He stood casually, weight on one slim hip, blond hair in his eyes. He was even smiling a little. She recognized the man who had carried in Erin. Big, he’s very big, she thought numbly. I didn’t notice that before. And he’s still calm, but—oh, I don’t like the looks of that smile.
“I’m getting a little tired of you two,” he remarked quietly. His sparkling hazel eyes sliced to her, sharp as a blade. “Are you through with this one, Doctor?”
“I…” She twisted and untwisted her hands, staring. Somehow the man’s presence had such an aura of settled maturity that he relegated the other two back to the status of spoiled boys. She worked her aching jaw, then tried a nervous smile. “Yes. No. I mean—” Darn it! “He needs a bandage and a prescription for antibiotics.”
He looked down at the one on the floor, eyes hard and deadly. “You’re the driver of the boat, aren’t you? I’ve already given my statement to the police. They’re waiting out front to hear from you. Get.” After a resentful pause, Trevor stood and scurried away. Then the blond man turned to her. “Why don’t you go write the prescription? I’ll stay with this one while a nurse finishes his bandage.”
Mary sucked in a breath and bristled. Don’t tell me what to do! The man cocked his head at her, waiting. His hand was still locked around Peter’s throat. Her courage wavered when she looked at the drunken young man, and suddenly she deflated and mumbled, “Be right back.”
Safely back at the nurses’ desk, Mary scribbled out a prescription, pressing down hard with the pen and slapping it down afterward. Who did that man think he was? Ordering her about! And those other two— what criminal stupidity! Worried about a thirty-thousand-dollar boat, when people could have died! She wanted to find out how Erin was, she wanted to sit down and have a cup of coffee and eat that lunch she hadn’t managed to get to, and she wanted a nap. She looked around. Everything had gone quiet for now. She took a deep breath, rubbed her face hard with both hands and shuddered.
A hand descended onto her slight shoulder, and she jumped. “What? Oh—hi, it’s you.”
Dr. Victor Prentiss stood looking quizzically down at her. Just under six feet tall, he was a slender, elegant man in his early thirties. Mary had started dating him a few years ago when she was still an intern. A quiet, rather shy, bookish individual, she had been thrilled when Victor had shown an interest in her. Between the pressures of her internship and Victor’s career demands, their courtship to date had been sporadic. Now that Mary had started her residency and was working closely with him, she felt it was even uncomfortable at times—she was inexperienced and didn’t know how to date a man and also keep a professional distance at work—but she greeted him right now with relief.
“Are you all right?” Victor asked her gently. “I heard some of the ruckus.”
“Yes, I’m fine. Just tired. I missed lunch,” she said miserably. On top of a double shift. Were those black spots in front of her eyes? Squinting, she tried to chase them down.
“The Fourth of July is always like this. Look, darling—it’s almost six. Why don’t you get some dinner and go home?” He rubbed her back softly.
“Almost six?” She looked around in surprise. Where did the time go? Working in the E.R. was always like that. Whenever she came in, it felt like she was entering a twilight zone of crisis after crisis. This was a small community normally, but as a celebrated resort area, the population more than quadrupled in the summer. She had just started working at the E.R. in May but it felt like she had been working there forever, and she could never shake the sneaking suspicion that she was inadequate for the job. Now guilt and gratitude warred for supremacy. “Are you sure?”
“It’s quiet now,” Victor assured her. “And Kelly is due any minute. Don’t drive hungry and tired, though. Go on, get something to eat before you go home. And if you want to call tonight off, I’ll understand.”
Victor was supposed to be taking her and her younger brother, Tim, to see the fireworks over Lake Michigan that evening. She had been looking forward to it once, but now, with every bone in her feet and legs aching, it didn’t sound nearly as fun as it had. “I’ll think about it. I did promise Tim, though…” Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of Peter being marched toward the nurses’ station by the bossy blond man, who still wore an unpleasant smile as he kept a firm grip on Peter’s newly bandaged arm.
Mary felt herself compact into the smallest possible package. It didn’t make her invisible, however. The two men stopped in front of her, and there was an uncomfortable pause. Then the blond man said lazily, “You got something to say, Pete?”
The younger fellow studied his shoes and muttered, “I’m sorry.”
Mary