A Time for Us - By Amy Knupp Page 0,3

hospital personnel used, so as not to miss her.

Once again, when she came into sight, he was momentarily shocked by her looks, so similar to Noelle from a distance. As soon as the logic part of his brain kicked in, he recovered and automatically began to inventory the sisters’ physical differences. Rachel walked with a whole lot less sway in her hips. Her hair was obviously a different length, and her mannerisms were more precise and economic, whereas Noelle had seemed to flow through life more.

Rachel’s shoulders drooped with fatigue. Her blue scrubs were wrinkled, as if she’d camped out in them for several days. For all he knew, she had. Though she was significantly late leaving after her shift, he’d bet she hadn’t been chatting it up with colleagues or messing around. Noelle had told him on many occasions what a workaholic her sister was. He got the impression that, on some level, she’d admired Rachel because of it—it wasn’t a trait the sisters had shared. He’d liked Noelle’s easygoing way. Rachel, at times, put out a vibe of being untouchable, and if he hadn’t previously known her outside of the hospital, hadn’t seen beyond her all-business shell to the less secure woman beneath, he wasn’t sure he’d have the nerve to stake her out now.

He kept his eyes on her as she approached, and when she spotted him, there was a barely discernible instant of hesitation. He wondered if she held something against him specifically, or if that was just more of her don’t-bug-me persona. Was it that he reminded her of her sister? Wasn’t staying in the house where Noelle had lived a bigger reminder? He didn’t care for the idea that he might make her sad.

“Hi,” he said as she angled closer, squinting into the already hot June sun. He’d left his sunglasses in his Sport Trac, not planning to be here for this long.

“You’re out and about early.” She shifted her practical, expensive-looking leather bag from one shoulder to the other.

“Went off duty at seven. Kind of figured you did, too.”

“Technically, yes. I wanted to look up some information for a patient.” She went on to mention a condition he’d heard of in passing but knew nothing about, seeming to become more comfortable the longer she talked shop.

Cale nodded and tried not to feel dumb. She stopped midsentence, met his eyes briefly, then lowered her gaze.

“Sorry,” she said. “Guess I’m preoccupied. So what are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you.”

Was that panic or surprise on her face?

“Why?”

He smiled to try to put her at ease, wishing she’d smile back. “Nothing bad. Thought I’d offer to buy you breakfast.” He pointed toward the round-the-clock breakfast joint across the street that was usually full of off-duty or on-break medical personnel. Noting her hesitancy, though, he was beginning to lose confidence in his idea.

She stiffened and shielded her eyes from the sun with one hand, managing to hide from him, as well. “I’ve been up for almost twenty-four hours. That’s probably nothing to you, but I’m beat.”

He was painfully familiar with the overtired sensation after a long, drama-filled shift. “You still have to eat, though, right?”

“I hadn’t thought about it, actually.” She placed her hand on her abdomen quickly and looked embarrassed. “That would be my stomach telling me differently.”

“I make you uncomfortable.”

She shook her head and stammered. “It’s just—”

“That’s not my intention at all. We were almost family, Rachel. That doesn’t have to change because Noelle isn’t here.” Damn the lump in his throat.

She was obviously debating with herself as she pegged him with reserved, gulf-blue eyes, and he found himself holding his breath, caring too much about her response. Finally, she nodded. “I could use something more substantial than corn flakes.”

They headed across the parking lot in the direction of the Egg-omaniac.

“Busy night?” he asked.

“That’s one word for it. What about you?”

“Busy enough to keep us up more than we slept. How’d the cardiac-arrest woman we brought in fare?”

“She’s holding her own. We had an elderly man later who wasn’t as lucky.”

“I’m sorry.”

She nodded. “It’s hard to get used to.”

“Tell me about it. Don’t think you ever do completely.” He held up two fingers to the hostess when they walked into the restaurant. “Was it your first one?”

“No. I lost a few patients as a resident. Goes along with emergency medicine, but then, you probably know that. This was the first one I didn’t beat myself up about, though.”

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me about you,” he said

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