Fevered Hearts: Book 1 of the Hidden Hearts Series

By Macy Lewis

When Dr. Jamie Frothington embarks on a service trip to Liberia, he isn’t prepared for the horrors of death and pain. The terrible effects of the highly contagious Ebola virus send his mind into the past as he relives the heartless murder of his parents. Drowning the pieces of his shattered heart in gin, Jamie allows his demons to take over.

The undeserving target of his angst is his colleague, Nurse Sarah Ellison. Despite emotional turmoil, Jamie’s busted heart finds a way to fall in love with Sarah—and she with him. Their newfound relationship is severely challenged, though, when they are forced at knifepoint into the blistering heat of the African desert by terrorists.

Sarah, an eternal optimist, finds her positive attitude impossible to sustain, especially when the local terrorist’s ruthless son threatens both her life and virtue. Jamie’s weakened body and faltering heart may cost him everything, including the woman he loves. He is on a pain-filled tragic trajectory that will end in death if he cannot find hope in the depths of despair and hold on to the warmth of Sarah’s love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Oct 22, 2018
• ISBN: 9781480868434

Macy Lewis

Macy Lewis has been blind since birth, she graduated from the University of Utah with a bachelor’s in history and a minor in writing and rhetoric studies. Macy spends her time proofreading Braille, playing the drums, reading, traveling, and writing books, her forthcoming novel is The Island of Kamarie.

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Copyright © 2018 Macy Lewis.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

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ISBN: 978-1-4808-6844-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-6843-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018910995

Archway Publishing rev. date: 10/18/2018

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I would like to thank the following people for their help with this book.

My friend, Traci McDonald, thank you for the encouragement, numerous conversations and mentorship as I rewrote the book.

My dear friend, Jim King, thank you for reading the manuscript, for offering suggestions and encouragement, and for always believing in me.

Madeleine Kmetzsch, thank you for the beautiful book cover; you captured everything perfectly!

Dr. Garrett Emery, thank you for your invaluable expertise on the Ebola virus and the means to treat it. Chloe, thank you for being my liaison to your dad. You were the link that made his help happen.

My friend and editor, Janelle Evans, thank you for doing a final edit on the manuscript, catching everything I missed and adding more depth. You made this book even better than I could have imagined! Dad, thank you for going through the manuscript with me and accepting Janelle’s edits, I could not have done it without you!

Janet, Jennifer, Amy, Laurie, AmberLee, Julie, Elizabeth, and Mike thank you for always believing in me. Special thanks to Elizabeth and Mike for the writing lessons and textbook suggestions which have helped me become a better writer.

Claire, Jarom, Michelle, and Megan, thank you for research and sounding board assistance. You always answered my continuous flood of emails with helpful suggestions. Special thanks to Claire and Megan for helping me with British terms and phrases which made this book more authentic.

Dr. Larry R. Gerlach, Dr. Ginger Smoak, Dr. Nadja Durbach, Dr. Edward J. Davies, Dr. John S. Reed, Dr. Ann Engar, and Dr. Thomas Huckin, all current or emeritus professors at the University of Utah, thank you for helping me learn to love research. I hope the accuracy of the details in this story does you proud.

Nancy Smith and Eileen Mauerman, Teachers for the Visually Impaired who followed me from second grade to high school graduation, you taught me the skills I needed to be successful in life. This book would never have been possible without you.

Archway Publishing, thank you for the help publishing this book. Everyone I worked with was so kind and willing to answer all of my questions.

To all of my friends and family, thank you for the support. I am so blessed to have you in my life.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

CHAPTER 1

The salty taste of crisps lingered on my tongue. I closed my eyes on the last British fare I would consume. Everything else was taken care of in the same efficient manner in which I had done things in my past life. Saying goodbye, however, had never been my finest ability.

The filthy hotel room I sat in was not any better than the train from the previous night. Alone in my room, I emailed my grandparents then put my mobile on the bed. I walked to my case resting against the wall across the room and dug for my flask of gin. Sighing, I uncorked it, closed my eyes and drained the dregs.

Keep me safe, I muttered, the liquid running down my throat and warming my body. If I’m going to see death and disease in the next week, I may as well drown a bit of it beforehand. I gave a rakish sneer at my reflection in the mirror and toasted my blood shot eyes. I’m strong, stronger than the liquid pulsing through my veins, as long as Sarah never finds out about you. I held up the swirling liquid. My secret mistress.

***

The evening’s overindulgence brought misery the next morning. I rubbed my pounding temples, glaring through my squint at the blasted sun in all its cheeriness. The navy-blue polo shirt and jeans I put on, though comfortable, did nothing to lighten my mood. I chugged some lemonade to settle my roiling stomach. After I had picked up some breakfast at the hostel café, I glanced around. Maybe a bit of a jaunt will do me good?

My walk brought me through Hyde Park. The famous tourist spot seemed a fitting end for my final look at London. I don’t know what possessed me, maybe it was being amongst the tall trees and beautiful flowers, but I offered up a prayer to my estranged God. Keep me safe on the trip. The thought only made me grimace.

I hailed a taxi for the airport, sealing my fate.

Gray fog and banks of drizzling clouds clung to my heart and mind. I pulled my case from the boot of the taxi and paid the driver.

Have a wonderful holiday, sir, he said offering a smile which lifted his entire face.

I offered a slight smile in return before walking away. My throat was already parched, yet my eyes felt as if the French Riviera lay beneath my eyelids. I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and glanced around the main concourse of Heathrow. My shoulders dropped and my breaths came easier at the sight of Sarah, waiting for me by the luggage claim. Her white t-shirt with a red tank top over it made her thick blond hair almost glow. The way her jean clad leg tapped against her suitcase made an unexpected thought invade my mind. I love working with Sarah.

A wide smile lifted the corners of her mouth and her blue eyes sparkled as she lifted a small boy from where he had fallen over her bag. Wiping away his dripping tears, she stroked his fine brown curls and sent him along.

My mind flashed to the first time Sarah and I met. In a packed casualty department with several severely injured patients. There had been a six-car pileup and tanker truck fire on an icy motorway. As we treated patients, Sarah looked up from her clipboard and offered a smile and words of encouragement to everyone who passed her. Keeping everyone calm with her positive attitude was a trait I had learned to depend on.

After that night a flirtation began. In our single state we frequented pubs, the cinema, and even the occasional show at the theatre with friends. When we received the call to go on this service trip I thought about taking our relationship to the next level, depending on how we held up during the service. We would encounter some pretty shocking things and I did not want to add drama from our personal lives into the mix. I kept our relationship quiet around the hospital so there would be no chance for issues to come up, and Sarah had not seemed to mind my decision to compartmentalize our lives.

Unable to hold back the smile lifting the corners of my mouth, I walked up to Sarah, my black rolling case behind me. Hello, Sarah.

Hi, Dr. Frothington. It’s so good to see you. She teased, throwing herself into my arms and kissed me on the lips. I suppose Doctor may be more common in Liberia. Can I call you by that name?

With a roll of my eyes I shook my head. You didn’t bring anyone to see you off either?

It seemed easier to just go on my own, she said, her cheeks flushing. Nodding, she looked to the main doors and back at me. Oh good, there’s Cosette and Robert, and they brought their spouses! I wanted to meet them. Sarah’s eyes glazed over, staring off into space. At times such as these, don’t you wish you were married? She threw me a broad smile.

Lord, I could never let this one go. I shook my head at the sudden thought and gave a slight nod.

That smile on her face brought me back to our moments together in the casualty department. Her gentle smiling face, tender touches and compassionate tears all shown from her sparkling eyes. As her lips turned and flashed another smile, I thought of the many long nights after we had been to the pub with our friends, unwinding with hot sweet tea and staring into one another’s eyes until I had the pleasure of those lips brushing mine. The stresses of our work so often made it necessary for me to find comfort and solace in her arms. My fraying nerves and clenching stomach gurgled that desire inside of me once again.

Sarah and I will be something, I thought. Something…extraordinary!

I’m a bit anxious today. Sarah’s voice roused me back to reality. Is it okay if I call you Jamie, like I do when we’re not at work?

Sure, Jamie’s fine.

Cosette’s strawberry blonde hair hung in a side braid draped across her right shoulder. The reddish curl at the end caressed her bare skin. I choked back a laugh and shook her hand. Good lord, woman, I chided internally. It’s London, not the beach.

Her yellow tank top dress, accented by silver heels, swirled around the lime green rolling case behind her. In a lilting French accent she introduced her companion. This is my husband Christophe.

After shaking Sarah’s hand, she gestured at the red-haired man beside her who did likewise. About my height, Christophe shifted his weight from one foot to the other, barely meeting our gazes. Instead, his dark, intense eyes seemed to be peeling the shadows from every corner of the building as he nodded at us.

Friendly, yet reserved, I whispered to Sarah.

Nerves, because of the situation, she said through a toothy smile.

Robert, the fellow from radiology arrived beside me in a rumpled black shirt and worn jeans. His wife, Tamina, he informed us, shook all our hands before curling her palm over his boney arm. Her long fingers flicked through his light brown hair. He bent to kiss the top of her head.

We must look like a whole group of first time travelers, I said with a broken laugh. All nerves and cases waiting for…we don’t even know what.

Here’s all the contact information, Cosette said handing out email addresses to all of us. I guided Sarah toward the check-in counter, allowing Robert and Cosette a brief last goodbye with their spouses.

I’ll only be eight days love, I heard Robert say to Tamina. We’ll be fine.

Somewhere behind me a shrill woman called out my name. Jamie dear, you weren’t going to leave without saying goodbye, were you?

Her long bony hand sparkled, a massive diamond on her finger catching the light as she waved at me. I could not stop my mouth from dropping open or my eyes from rolling.

I thought you didn’t bring anyone to see you off, Sarah said smiling and watching me.

I didn’t. That’s my uh…well…I pretend she doesn’t exist. Since I was a lad, this woman has been a source of darkness in my life. I struggled to trust anything she says or does.

Sarah’s eyes widened along with her smile when the woman screeched at me again. It’s your aunt Jillissa.

She wasn’t going to quit flapping her arms until I acknowledged her. I sighed and excused myself from my shocked colleagues. I had to stop her before she came any closer.

The moment I neared, Jillissa opened her arms, but only managed to pat my biceps with her fingertips before I stepped out of her reach. She scowled and wrinkled her nose. She attempted to fuss over me, without actually touching my skin or clothes. Looking at my hair, and flicking at my case, she pinched her narrow mouth into a pucker. Really, Jamie dear, did your mum teach you nothing? You really need to dress more proper. And honestly, I don’t like the look of the others. They, they don’t fit with you, love.

I laughed. Jillissa was out of her bloody mind. What are you talking about? I look fine, and don’t bring up my mother. Good lord woman, I have told you, time and time again, to stop mentioning her unless you have something to—

She cut me off, throwing her arms around my neck and burying her head into my shoulder to sob.

Oh lord. I twitched with the spectacle in my arms but patted her shoulder, trying to help. Glancing at my watch, I realized three minutes had passed and I desperately wanted to get away. Look Jillissa, I said, steel in my voice, I’ll be fine, but you must let me go.

She pulled away from my shoulder, wiping her glistening eyes while shaking her head. You must say goodbye to Naelia. She’ll be so upset if she doesn’t hear from you.

Every passing second had me grinding my teeth harder. I pursed my lips. She’s eleven Jillissa. She won’t care.

I frowned at the mobile she pulled out. She tapped on her husband’s number and handed it to me.

Hello Martin, I said with an absence of emotion. I’ve called to say goodbye. Would you mind putting this call on speaker, so I can say goodbye to you and Naelia?

Through the phone came his laughter. Oh, absolutely my boy. I love this. Naelia dear, come say goodbye to your only cousin. God bless him for putting himself in harm’s way.

Hi, cousin, a young girl’s voice called out. I wish you well into your perilous journey. Do come back safely and bring me a present, would you?

Swallowing, blood burned through my face. Like mother like daughter! No, that’s not funny. I’ll see you later. The mobile shook in my trembling hand.

Handing the mobile back to Jillissa, I sneered at her. Tell your husband and daughter to show some respect. Heaven knows you don’t. I need to go, I’ll see you soon Jillissa.

I turned away but she called after me with her fake honeyed tone.

All right, we’ll see you alive and well then Jamie dear.

I glared at the ceiling, the touch from her corrupt skin still stinging my flesh. Meeting back up with my colleagues didn’t ease my annoyance. Sarah’s brow had wrinkled, and a frown creased her mouth.

Your Aunt seems rather troubled. Is everything all right?

I made the mistake of glancing over my shoulder to see my aunt still standing behind me. Sobbing quietly, her hands shook.

Oh give it up woman. I muttered, rolling my eyes. My colleagues chuckled.

She wasn’t supposed to come I take it, Tamina said smiling.

Nodding, I began to laugh too. Yes, I wish she’d never learned about my departure. It would have been much easier to get on without her.

My colleagues stayed with me, watching Jillissa disappear into the crowd. Once she was gone for good, I followed the others to the check-in counter to get my ticket. I left my bag there with others at the luggage drop and headed to the security queue to be cleared to enter the terminals.

Christophe has connections to the French Air Force if we need help, Cosette said handing over