Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Calvin

I 'm as wound up as a taut guitar string, ready to snap. I take a deep breath, forcing my attention to the road. Okay, most of my attention.

I'm distracted which is not desirable while driving in snowy conditions. Somewhere between kissing Caroline by the gazebo and hopping into my car like a rabbit with Elmer J. Fudd on my tail, the world has turned white. Snow is coming down in droves, the roads turning slick. It's almost as if that kiss triggered something powerful in the universe.

Caroline and I are friends, and that kiss, in an instant, blurred the lines we've drawn. Given how she seemed on the drive back to the house—and even when I left—I have to assume the friendship sustained a hit. Whether it's a lethal one has yet to be determined.

I'm kicking myself. The woman lost her husband. And now she's facing a potentially life-altering lawsuit.

And what did I do? I hit on her. What if she thinks I brought her up here to seduce her? Who could blame her if she never looks at me the same way again. Never speaks to me again. No wonder she was so agreeable when I said I was leaving. She certainly didn't put up a fight.

My mind goes back to her watching me from the window, her smile gone. I did that. The thought delivers a pain deep in my gut.

I slow down along with the other cars and manage to make out the sign beyond the growing swirl of snow. Next exit, I-91 to Brattleboro. I've been on the road for no more than thirty minutes. At this rate, the six-hour drive will turn far longer. I flick on the radio, hoping for cheerful holiday music to boost my mood. Instead, it's an emergency weather alert.

The reporter sounds revved up. Probably getting the largest audience he's had in years. He's calling it the Blizzard of the Century. Seems gratuitously sensationalistic but reminds me of those amazing ice cream sundaes my grade school buddies and I used to get from the shop on Main Street.

The reporter promises regular updates and signs off with, "Stay inside."

Why didn't I heed Aunt Pearl's warning? Yep, distraction. In the form of the beautiful Caroline.

I turn off the broadcast, focusing once more on the exit. Half-mile to go. Warnings to batten down the hatches don't apply to medical personnel needed in hospitals. I'll keep going.

The Bluetooth lights up and I tap the screen. I recognize the number. It's the emergency room nurse back in New York.

"Hello?"

"Dr. Sinclair, where are you?"

"I'm on the road heading back from Vermont. I received your page. Sorry I didn't have a chance to call but I should be there . . . not sure when. Are you short-staffed?"

"Two interns are here and we got another resident to cover for you."

"Cover for me?"

Despite the weather, her voice comes through strong and clear. "It's why I paged you. I saw the notes you left about your trip north. Figured getting back here in time for your shift wasn't going to happen."

"I appreciate your diligence but I never asked you to do that," I say, annoyed. I left Caroline to make my shift.

"I'm sorry, I just listened to the news reports. It's pretty bad here but worse where you are. They're talking about shutting down some of the main roads until the plows can get out there."

"If it's bad, you'll need me. There are always people who disregard the cautionary warnings and end up in the ER."

"I see your point."

"I'll get there as soon as I?—"

A black Honda one lane over loses control and before I can react, I hit a patch of black ice, spinning into a three-sixty. My adrenaline spikes and I grip the wheel with all my might, pump the brakes, and pray.