Finally Yours: The Triumphant Series, #2

By Kimberly Whitmore

Someone was determined to keep Pamela Harrington from returning to Middleton. Not that she was overly thrilled about the prospect herself. She left there fourteen years ago, after a tragic accident and a broken heart, vowing never to look back. Now, one of those rare opportunities of a lifetime was presenting itself, but of course it was in Middleton. What should she do?

Steve Jarrod’s life also changed that day of the accident, but family ties, including an unborn child, prevented him from fleeing Middleton with Pam and had ended their love affair.  Now there was a chance Pam might return.  Fourteen years was a long time to be apart, but he was determined to seize this second chance at a life together with her, if she was willing.

Neither Pam nor Steve knew that a third party had their own reasons for keeping Pam away from Middleton. When their efforts failed to dissuade her and she moved back to marry Steve, they realized  more drastic measures were needed, if their fourteen year old crime was to remain a secret.  They had killed once. If necessary, they would kill again.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Great Scott Publishing Company, LLC
• Release date: Sep 22, 2015
• ISBN: 9781513010199

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

"I’ve got to be out of my mind," Pamela Harrington whispered. She turned the rented SUV into a small service station a few miles north of downtown Middleton. A quick peek at her watch told her she’d been driving nonstop for close to three hours.

She parked the vehicle alongside a gas pump and switched off the ignition. Quickly, she texted her friend, Rebecca Kincaid. I’m here.

Rebecca responded almost immediately. Excellent! Call me once you get settled. And stop worrying.

Pam stared out the windshield and released a deep breath. Rebecca was right. This was no big deal. She’d already decided to take the job at Chicago General. Then she sighed. So what was she doing in the middle of Pennsylvania?

Fill ‘er up, ma’am?

Startled by the interruption, Pam jerked her head toward the open window. A young, red headed attendant smiled back at her.

Sure. That will be fine. She stepped outside to stretch her cramped muscles.

Are you that doctor who used to live around here? he asked, placing the gas nozzle into the tank.

Pam’s over-anxious nerves shot to a new high. She held up a hand to shield her eyes from the sun’s rays, burning bright in the mid-afternoon sky. She wanted to make this trip anonymously. Clearly, that wasn’t happening. Possibly. She gave him an inquisitive stare. What makes you ask?

The attendant’s smile widened. He pointed his chin toward the inside of the SUV as he washed the windshield. Simple deduction. Your hospital ID is laying there on the front seat, the bumper sticker says you rented this vehicle at the airport, and you meet the physical description.

Pam removed a fifty dollar bill from her jacket pocket. I’m impressed. Care to tell me who’s interested in my arrival?

Sure. He replaced the nozzle and gas cap, then took a pen from his back pocket and wrote out a receipt. Handing it to her he said, My cousin. He paid me ten bucks to call him when you got this far. He flashed her a mischievous grin. Want to make a counter offer so you can surprise him yourself?

Pam couldn’t help smiling back. She held up the bill. Sorry. This is for the gas. What’s your name, anyway?

He touched the rim of his baseball cap. T.J. Jarrod, Jr., ma’am. At your service.

A mixture of fire and ice soared up Pam’s spine and settled like hundreds of nasty bee stings at the base of her neck. She swallowed hard. And your cousin is Steven Jarrod?

He sent her a wink. Yup. So what do you say? Want to reconsider my offer?

Before Pam could answer, a thunderous roar rumbled nearby. T.J.’s bewildered eyes locked onto hers as the ground shook beneath their feet. It lasted several seconds.

T.J. darted toward the building.

Pam followed. Once inside, she heard a steady voice providing instructions over a scanner.

Signal Ten. Companies one, three and four. Explosion at the Power Master Tool Factory, 43 Sumner Avenue, Middleton. Middleton Regional Rescue has been dispatched.

That’s me. T.J. grabbed a portable radio and said, This is Fire Fighter 132. I’m responding to the scene. As he spoke, he motioned for Pam to follow him outside. He locked the station door behind her.

Hey, your SUV’s better than my old pick-up. Can I drive us? He ran toward the vehicle, then stopped and looked at her. You are that doctor, right? You’re coming too?

Pam gave him a quick nod and tossed him the keys. How far is it?

About nine miles. It’s the industrial park.

Once inside the vehicle, T.J. started the engine and pushed an adapter into a power plug. Next, he placed a flashing blue light on the dashboard. As Pam buckled her seatbelt, he floored the gas pedal, lurching them forward. The tires squealed as they sped out of the lot and onto the road.

CHAPTER TWO

Steve Jarrod spoke clearly into his emergency radio. Medic One, Regional Rescue to dispatch.

Medic One, go ahead.

I’m at the scene. Requesting Rescue Flight Helicopters and all available medical rescue teams to this location. Alert the burn unit at Middleton Medical Center. Be advised, these buildings are fully involved.

Roger that, Chief, the dispatcher replied. They’re on their way. Neighboring towns are responding.

Keep me posted, Steve said, stepping out of his truck. I’m out.

He surveyed the scene. Walls of orange flames, laced with black smoke, danced high in the afternoon sky, as if in tune to the sirens blaring in the distance. He grimaced. The fire had already spread through two of the factory’s neighboring buildings in the industrial complex. Fueled now, it moved on at a seemingly unstoppable pace. At this rate, it could reach the nearby residential area by sundown.

Steve shifted his gaze upward. If you’ve got a minute, Lord, we could use some help down here.

At that instant, three fire trucks appeared and expertly parked near a hydrant. At the same time, Steve heard helicopter blades overhead. A half dozen ambulances and police cruisers followed. Thanks, he whispered, welcoming the rescuers with a wave. Good to know you’re with us.

Steve!

T.J.? He turned to find his young cousin racing toward him.

Look who I got.

Steve’s glance darted from the teen’s beaming face to the tall redhead in khakis and a blue, pinstriped shirt. She carried a black medical bag. He stopped mid-stride, as if colliding into a stone wall.

Pam.

She met his shocked gaze. Where do you want me?

CHAPTER THREE

"I need a medic over here!"

Steve spun toward the voice shouting over the fire’s crackling thunder. It came from a firefighter exiting one of the burning buildings. He carried a victim over his shoulder.

Steve looked at Pam and grabbed his medic bag. Let’s go.

They reached the patient, now lying on the grass. He appeared unconscious.

I found him in a hallway, gasped the distressed firefighter.

Steve checked the victim’s pulse. He’s still breathing. He continued checking vital signs and noticed Pam take the spot opposite him. She loosened the man’s collar and unbuttoned his shirt.

Look at his nose. She pointed to the charred and swollen skin. Heavy smoke inhalation.

Agreed. Steve rubbed his knuckles into the man’s chest, trying to elicit some kind of response. Nothing. He reached for his portable radio. Medic One to Rescue Flight.

Go ahead Medic One.

I have a priority transport for you at the factory’s southeast entrance.

Roger.

Steve reached for his intubation kit while Pam started an IV. The patient’s airway was swelling shut from the superheated gases in the burning factory. There wasn’t much time.

Pam, he said, seeing her finish. Grab an ambubag and hook it up to my oxygen cylinder. I’m going to tube him.

As she worked, he gathered what he needed. Leaning on one knee, he inhaled burnt air. A helicopter hovered, its noisy blades drowning out the piercing engine sirens. Glancing at the sky, he noted glowing embers and ash swirl through the black smoke. At the same time, portable radios filled the air with orders barked out and acknowledged.

Tipping back the patient’s head, Steve carefully inserted the laryngoscope into his mouth, gently pushing the man’s tongue to one side. Blisters are erupting everywhere, he said to Pam. They’re closing his airway.

With the vocal chords in sight, Steve fed the tube that would help the patient breathe. He attached the ambubag Pam had prepared to the end of the tube. Slowly, he started squeezing. The man’s chest rose. Good.

Check his lungs, he said to Pam.

She placed her stethoscope on the patient’s chest. If she could hear equal lung sounds on both sides it would confirm the intubation tube was in the proper position.

She gave him a thumbs up. You’re in.

Okay.

Steve grabbed a roll of tape while Pam held the bag steady. Without thinking, he put his hand on top of hers to help hold the tube as he taped everything in place for transport. The touch was quick. And distracting.

All set, Chief?

Steve hadn’t noticed the landed helicopter or the paramedics wheeling over a stretcher. Yeah. You’re all set. He stood. Keep the fluids going. His airway was already swelling when I inserted the tube.

Both medics nodded. They loaded the patient onto the stretcher and whisked him away.

Steve turned to thank Pam for her help. Instead, he saw her running to the next victim.

CHAPTER FOUR

"This is the last of them," Pam heard someone announce. Doors slammed and a siren followed. Filthy and still running high on adrenaline, she leaned against a standby rescue unit to catch her breath.

She checked her watch. It was close to eight o’clock. Though the fire still burned low in places, it was finally under control. Most likely, it would smoke and sizzle for days, along with the putrid smells of burning plastics and other artificial fibers. At last count, she heard ten patients had left by helicopter and more than thirty by ambulance. Fortunately, so far, there were no fatalities. Considering it a miracle, she whispered a grateful, Thank you.

It was quiet now. And dark. The radio’s incessant flurry of activity had finally slowed to an occasional transmission, releasing many of the fire and rescue units from the scene.

Did you enjoy the fireworks? I arranged them specifically for you.

Caught off guard, Pam stood straight. She knew Steve would show up eventually. During the emergency, they had exchanged quick glances and orders, but nothing more. Certainly nothing to suggest fourteen years had passed since last seeing each other.

Keep it light, she told herself. Meanwhile, her heart pounded and the back of her neck burned.

I’m certainly impressed, she replied, looking around at the wreckage. But you really didn’t need to go to all this trouble. A simple ‘hello’ would have been fine.

Steve’s deep laugh filled the cool night air. Obviously, the old boiler in the factory thought you deserved something more dramatic.

Smiling, Pam nodded. Obviously.

Thanks for your help. Your timing couldn’t have been better.

I’m glad I was here. She paused, then added thoughtfully, The rescue operation was impressive.

So you approve?

Definitely.

Steve gave her a firm nod. Good. Then the fire wasn’t a total loss. It gave you an idea of what to expect if you accept the medical center’s offer.

Startled, Pam met his bright eyes. Challenging and mischievous, and gauging her reaction to him. She broke the connection. How do you know about that?

CHAPTER FIVE

Before Steve could answer, his radio crackled on his hip.

Medic one, here. Go ahead, he responded.

Pam listened as the female dispatcher said, T.J. dropped off the keys to Dr. Harrington’s vehicle at the Red Cross station. She might be looking for them.

Surprised, Pam realized the young gas station attendant must have held on to them when they first arrived. She started to say something but Steve made a motion to wait. Looking at her, he said, Roger that, Dispatch. Thank you. The doctor’s with me now. We’ll get them.

We will? Pam’s thoughts shouted, emphasizing the we. What’s that about?

Roger and off.

Ending the transmission, Steve motioned for her to walk with him. I saw the Red Cross truck parked around the corner.

Thanks, Pam said. But I’m sure I can find it. You must have a ton of things to do. Like go home to your wife and child.

Steve continued leading the way. I’ll go with you. Do you want to eat now, or see the medical center first?

Pam nearly tripped over her own feet. Excuse me?

He slowed. I’m sure you’re hungry and anxious to see the place. What do you want to do first?

She opened her mouth to reply, but they reached the Red Cross truck and Steve went inside. Seconds later, he reappeared and held up her keys.

I’ll drive, he announced, as if the matter was settled. Mine’s the black pick-up over there. He pointed to the left, down the street a bit, and headed toward it.

Thanks, but no, Pam insisted, chasing after him. I’ll be fine. As far as she was concerned, she’d already spent quite enough time with Steven Jarrod for one trip. For a life time, in fact. The further they stayed away from one another, the better. Besides, she needed to see the hospital alone. She wanted to get a feel for the place before being thrust into tomorrow’s grand tour and the dozens of introductions and meetings that were sure to take place.

What time did you get up this morning? Steve questioned over his shoulder.

Pam caught up and matched his fast pace. He still had her keys. Ugh.

Early, but…

They reached his vehicle. Steve opened the passenger door for her. So, you’re tired, hungry, it’s dark, and you haven’t driven these country roads for what? Fourteen years?

Pam started to say she felt fine but he cut her off.

And now you’re going to find the hospital and your hotel all by yourself? He gave her a challenging grin. You’re making total sense. Why would you want a ride from someone who knows exactly where the place is, and then can get you some good food and take you to your hotel? I guess that would just be too easy. I understand completely.

Pam scratched an itch on her nose. Of course he was right. Which annoyed her to no end. She released a deep breath.

I appreciate…

Steve cut her off again. I know what your problem is.

What problem? Pam retorted, thrown off balance again. His grin was entirely too cute.

It’s my boots.

Totally confused, she looked at his feet, barely visible in the dark night. What about them?

It’s the cow poop stuck to them. I was out in the fields when the alarm came in. I didn’t get a chance to change.

That’s ridiculous, Pam automatically countered. I just thought…

You just thought, Steve lowered his voice to a seductive tone. you don’t want to be alone with me. And them.

Her eyes widened. What?

He nodded. That’s right. You remember what happened the last time we were together. Steamy truck windows, fumbling with cumbersome buttons and zippers, my work boots making both of us gag. You’re afraid all those feelings will come rushing back and you won’t be able to keep your hands off me.

Pam couldn’t stop the string of giggles. Her eyes actually watered. Of course nothing like that really happened. Well, maybe just a little. More to the point, he was acting now like he did during the years before they’d starting dating. Back then, he was a hot, twenties something, school bus driver. Every morning and every afternoon, he’d tease her nonstop about anything and everything. Her innocent heart ached to be noticed by him as a woman, not just one of the teenage girls he drove back and forth to school.

It was true they came from two different worlds. She grew up in Boston, a huge city filled with opportunity and history. Soon after she turned sixteen, her father took a job in Pennsylvania. They moved to rural Middleton in January. Talk about culture shock. Instead of busy streets, filled with fancy cars and people from every country imaginable, she was surrounded by acres and acres of huge farms, dotted with hundreds, even thousands of cows and horses. Sheep and goats, too. And everyone owed a pick-up truck and a tractor!

Then Pam met Steve.

Welcome, poor little rich girl, he greeted loudly, as she stepped onto the bus. Flashing her his gorgeous blue eyes and a brilliant smile, he added, From Boston, in an exaggerated New England accent. We hope you don’t mind living amongst us poor, ignorant country folk.

The bus was empty except for them. Pam didn’t know how to respond. She decided to head to the back when he said, Just kidding, in an accent-free, friendly, kind of flirty, voice. I’m Steve Jarrod. Sit up here with me. I’ll fill you in on everything you need to know about Middleton.

Though hesitant, Pam accepted the invitation. Quickly she discovered Steven Jarrod was neither poor nor ignorant. In addition to driving the bus, he worked full time on his family’s busy dairy farm and coached the high school’s football team. He was also a paramedic and in charge of the town’s medical rescue services department.

Well? Steve asked, bringing Pam back to the present. What do you say?

She blinked. Sure she could take a joke. She could even dish one out, but he was always so quick. Wait. I’m out of practice, she insisted. Give me a second.

Again, she saw that twinkling glint in his eyes. In the moon’s light she noticed smile lines around his mouth and eyes. And yes, his sandy hair looked a bit thin on top. Or maybe it was just flattened by his baseball hat. So what? His intense gaze still turned her insides to jelly when he looked at her. And he was still such a flirt. Just like in the old days.

On impulse, Pam glanced down at Steve’s left hand. No wedding ring. But that would mean… She stopped herself. It didn’t mean anything. Lots of married men didn’t wear a ring and why should it matter? They had each gone their separate ways a long time ago.

Come on, he urged. It’s about a twenty minute drive to the medical center. I’ll give you the five cent tour of the area on the way. There’ve been a lot of changes around here since you left. You’ll hardly recognize the place.

Pam stifled a yawn. It was late. She felt grimy and exhausted. And starved. Maybe she should just wait until tomorrow to see the hospital. A bath and a hamburger from a fast food place would do just fine.

She started to decline again when Steve added, If we hurry, you’ll get to meet Dr. Everett. She had the day off, but came in to help out in the emergency department when she heard about the explosion. I know she was impressed when she heard you were at the scene.

Pam didn’t know what to say. Marlene Everett’s invitation was the only reason she’d agreed to make this short trip. Months earlier, Pam had applied to Chicago General, seeking to work with Dr. Everett in its emergency department. Then she learned the prominent physician had left to become the director of a new medical center in Middleton, Pennsylvania. More importantly, she personally invited Pam to interview there.

Pam’s admiration and respect for the doctor knew no bounds. Though lots of women now entered the medical profession, Marlene was one of the first to forge her way into emergency medicine years earlier. Thanks to her never ending achievements and efforts, the road was now much easier for her female colleagues.

Then Pam remembered her disastrous physical appearance. Thanks, Steve. I really appreciate the offer, but look at me. I’m a wreck. First impressions count. I don’t want her seeing me like this.

Before Pam could step back, Steve came toward her and placed a finger under her chin. He tilted her gaze to him. His touch felt warm. His eyes mesmerized her. You look fine. Besides, it will give her a preview of what you’ll look like if you take the job and spend all day and night up to your elbows in blood and guts.

Pam eased away and arched him an eyebrow. "You make