Chapter 26

Rachel walked through the sliding glass doors, filling her with a surge of purpose. She was home. After weeks of uncertainty, the familiar routines of the ER soothed her frayed nerves. The controlled chaos, the steady beep of monitors, the purposeful rush of nurses and doctors moving from one critical patient to the next—it all gave her a sense of belonging.

Rachel moved to the nurse’s station and reviewed the files. Gunshot wound in room 3, heart attack in room 4, multi-car accident victims in rooms 6 through 8.

Her fingers tightened around the files as a spike of adrenaline shot through her. This was what she lived for. The chance to help people at their most vulnerable, to use her skills to save lives and stitch broken bodies back together.

She hurried to room 3, her sensible heels clicking efficiently against the linoleum floors. “How’s he doing?” she asked the doctor, stitching up the gunshot victim.

“BP is stabilizing. We need to monitor for internal bleeding.”

Rachel nodded, all business. “I’m on it.”

As she helped prep the patient for a CT scan, a fierce joy bloomed inside her chest. Jaxon had shown her a side of life she’d never known, a wildness and passion that both thrilled and frightened her. But this—this was her true calling. Helping those who needed it most. Using her gifts to make a difference. Rachel smiled, feeling more at peace than she had in a long time. She was exactly where she was meant to be.

That evening, Rachel’s phone buzzed with a text from Jaxon. “Meet me outside.”

She found him waiting on his motorcycle, his piercing blue eyes peering out from under his leather cut. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.

“Get on,” he said with a jerk of his chin.

“What are we doing?” But she was already swinging her leg over the seat behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

The engine roared to life beneath her, vibrating through her body. “You’ll see.”

Jaxon took them to the poorer side of town, where run-down tenements crowded together and trash littered the streets. He pulled up outside a community center and killed the engine.

“What is this place?” Rachel asked.

“They provide meals and services for homeless folks and poor families. But they’re short-staffed tonight. I thought we could volunteer to help serve dinner.”

Rachel stared at him, stunned. “You want to volunteer?”

He shrugged. “We’re gonna change things around here. Might as well start now.”

Joy and purpose flooded Rachel again, mingling with her affection for this complicated man. She leaned in and kissed him soundly. “Let’s get to work.”

Inside, they donned aprons and helped ladle stew into bowls, carry trays for those who couldn’t, and clear away dirty dishes when people had finished eating.

Rachel looked at the hope and gratitude on people’s faces and felt Jaxon’s hand squeeze hers, his eyes reflecting the same emotions.

They were making a difference together. And in that moment, Rachel knew this was exactly where they were both meant to be.