LITMIR.BIZ

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      The years had only improved his boyish good looks. He looked the same, from the dimple on the right side of his mouth to the tiny scar on his chin. The same, yet somehow different. Matthew Clark was a man now.

      He grimaced. Clearly the swelling and already colorful contusions on his face were painful.

      “You two know each other?” Luke looked back and forth between the patient and her, stunned interest on his face.

      “She’s my wife,” Matt said, his voice flat and void of emotion.

      Luke’s brows shot up. “Your wife?”

      “Ex. Ex-wife,” Anne sputtered.

      Her words stretched out, filling the small room with a million unanswered questions.

      When Anne stooped to pick up the scattered chart at her feet her stethoscope slid to the tiled floor. Resisting a groan, she draped the stethoscope around her neck once more and gathered the papers. She read the paramedic’s evaluation as she stood.

      “How are you feeling?” Nelson asked his patient.

      “I’ve been better,” Matt returned. “I didn’t think I needed that ambulance ride, but they insisted.”

      “Always good to play on the side of caution.”

      Anticipating the doctor’s needs, Anne tore open a sterile package of gloves, and offered them to him. Maybe if she focused on her job, her thoughts would stop spinning out of control.

      “Thanks.” Nelson glanced at the hospital gown folded neatly and untouched next to Matt. “Ideally, we’d like you to change into that hospital gown.”

      “Me? In that? Not happening in this lifetime.”

      When a wicked smile curved his lips, Anne struggled not to laugh. Yes, the same old Matt. How had she forgotten his irreverent sense of humor?

      The ER doc gave a thoughtful shake of his head. “We can work around it. I need to look at that scalp wound first.”

      Matt lowered the ice pack from his head.

      “Not too bad. A couple of sutures should do the trick.”

      “You want to stitch my head?” He jerked back with surprise.

      “Yes. These things bleed like crazy. Lots of superficial vessels in the scalp.”

      “Do you have to shave my head?”

      “No. Just trim a bit of hair near the wound. Won’t be obvious.”

      “Looks like I have to trust you.”

      “I’d appreciate that,” Nelson said, matching his patient’s humor.

      “Go ahead and do what you have to do.”

      “I’ll get a suture kit,” Anne said.

      She exited the room and leaned against the wall. Matt. After all these years? Releasing a deep breath, she grabbed a sterile suture kit from the supply cart. It tumbled from her trembling hands. Scooping it up, she turned and ran smack into Marta.

      “Whoa, careful. Is Nelson in there?”

      “Yes. Room two.”

      With a gentle hand on Anne’s shoulder, Marta peered closely. “Honey, are you okay? You look pale. Maybe you’re catching that bug that’s going around.”

      “I’m fine.”

      “Hmm. Well, can you tell Nelson that the family of the patient in exam room three wants to talk to him?”

      Anne nodded, avoiding her friend’s gaze.

      “You’re sure you’re all right,” Marta persisted, her eyes probing with concern.

      “I’m good.” Of course she was good. As good as she could be after seeing the man she’d walked away from after they’d said, “I do.”

      Anne pushed back into the exam room. “You’re wanted in three.”

      “On my way.” Nelson turned to her. “Do you mind cleaning up that scalp wound? I’ll be right back to suture and then we can send him up to X-ray to assess that ankle.”

      “No problem.” Anne straightened her shoulders. Of course she could do this. She was a professional.

      Nelson gave her a brief nod, pausing long enough to once again look from Matt to her as he exited.

      “Could you go ahead and lie down, please?” she asked Matt.

      “Lie down?”

      Anne pulled supplies from the exam cupboards. “You’re...” She cleared her throat. “You’re too tall for me to reach the area.”

      The exam table creaked as he moved to a reclining position. “How’s Manny?” Matt asked.

      “Manny Seville.” Anne turned slowly as realization hit. “Your college roommate.”

      “That’s right. Manny is the site boss on the project.”

      “He’s stable right now. We’ll know more soon.”

      “Was his family notified? He has a wife and a new baby.”

      Anne released a small smile. “Does he? I always liked Manny, though I have to admit I never thought he’d settle down.”

      “People change.”

      Yes, they do.

      She pulled herself from her musing thoughts. “Our procedure is to notify immediate family. I can confirm that we had contact information when I finish this.”

      “Thank you,” he said. Matt met her gaze, his expression humble. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of your—”

      “Dr. Nelson is my colleague.” She pulled the rolling stainless-steel exam table closer.

      When he glanced pointedly at her left hand, her gaze in turn shifted immediately to his. Large, capable hands. In a heartbeat she regretted the action. There was no need to let him know that she’d often wondered if he’d married. After all, she’d moved on with her life long ago.

      Hadn’t she?

      * * *

      Matt glanced at her name tag: Matson RN. There was zero doubt in his mind that Anne hadn’t told anyone about her “unfortunate” marriage.

      Of course she had neatly erased the past. He expected nothing less.

      Her black-brown hair framed her face in a bob that barely kissed her chin, the long bangs swept carelessly to the side, framing her face. Her features had evolved from a young, carefree girl to a classically elegant woman. He fought hard to ignore the fact that she was more beautiful now than at eighteen.

      “So, you’re a nurse,” Matt said.

      “Yes.”

      “Just like your aunt wanted.”

      Anne tensed a fraction, yet only silence ensued.

      “Nine years,” he finally murmured.

      “Excuse me?”

      “We haven’t seen each other in nine years.”

      “Ten,” she said, without looking up.

      The simple response was enough to shake him to his core.

      “Close your eyes, please. I’m going to cleanse the area and we don’t want to get any Betadine in your eyes.”

      “Got it.”

      Her touch was gentle as she attended to his face. With his eyes closed he could smell the antiseptic along with a whiff of vanilla. Involuntarily, his lips curved into a smile. Anne always wore vanilla lotion. Why was it that solitary lingering memory

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