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Divided Dreams
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Divided Dreams
Moon Child (Book3)
By Janet Lane Walters
DIGITAL ISBNs
EPUB 9781771456050
MOBI 9781771456043
PDF 9781771456036
Print ISBN 9781771456029
Copyright 2015 by Janet Lane Walters
Cover Art 2015 by Michelle Lee
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
Chapter 1
You can’t go home again. Andi Sherman repeated the words she’d said hundreds of times. Yet, here she was on the road to Fern Lake.
Her stomach roiled. As the car sped along the highway leading to the town she’d left eleven years ago, she gripped the steering wheel. She gulped a breath. Yesterday she’d celebrated her twenty-ninth birthday and she still yearned for a faded dream.
She spotted the sign for County Road 178. On an impulse she turned. Fifteen or twenty minutes, instead of ten, would see her in her old hometown.
The July sun shone bright in a near cloudless sky. A few wispy clouds called ‘mares’ tails’ streaked the brilliant blue. She rolled down the window and inhaled the scents of summer, dust, wild roses, mown hay and other aromas different from those of the city. The winding road would take her past the house where she’d spent her childhood, a house that no longer existed. The property, lost to greed, slovenliness and criminal activities, had been taken for back taxes. She had escaped long before that day.
Dead. All her family members, except a younger brother, had died when the meth lab burned like an inferno. Dan Sherman, two years her junior, hadn’t been home the day of the disaster. Neither had she, but she’d seen pictures of the fire on television.
Andi sighed. The day she’d graduated from high school she’d left Fern Lake to begin a slow climb to success. She knew nothing about her brother’s whereabouts and she had no desire to learn.
Pressing her foot to the gas she sped past haunted memories and focused on the future. Now a Pediatric Nurse Practitioner, she was on her way to join two doctors who had offered her a partnership in their practice.
Her thoughts drifted to her new partners. Josh had settled in Fern Lake five years ago. Grace joined him two years later. Andi had always wondered why they hadn’t become a couple. They liked the same food, movies and books. Maybe she would find a way to open Josh’s eyes to the possibilities.
What about you?
She shook her head. She had a new career to explore. Eleven years ago she hadn’t dreamed of returning to Fern Lake as a nurse practitioner or for any other reason. Her journey had taken hard work and intense study. From nursing assistant to practical nurse to an RN, bachelor’s degree and finally to her Master’s. All this had left her with little time for herself.
The busy days had kept at bay memories of the boy who had hurt and rejected her. Only after hearing Rob Grantlan planned to sell the nursing home/rehabilitation center his father had built for him had she considered returning. The news he’d given up his medical practice had allowed her to accept her friends’ offer.
As she struggled to banish thoughts of him her knuckles whitened. Her chest ached. A rush of tears blurred her vision. She had no time for remembrances of lost dreams shattered like crystal spheres beneath battering words. She recalled the day she realized he’d never loved her and had used her for his pleasure remained strong.
Pleasure. Yours, too.
She had to admit the sex had been exciting. Her teeth clamped on her lower lip. She stopped the car to wipe tears away.
After gulping a series of deep breaths she hit the gas. When the car reached the snake-like segment of the road bordered by huge oaks and maples she slowed. This was no place for speed. A booming noise startled her. She drove around the final bend and discovered the cause. A luxury sedan had slammed into a massive oak. A plume of steam shot into the air. Andi slammed on the brakes and pulled onto the berm of the narrow two lane road across from the wreck. She grabbed her phone and dialed 911 as she ran toward the smashed red car.
The crumpled front end curved around the tree trunk. A rear door hung open.
An operator spoke. “This is 911, what is your emergency?”
“An accident. County road 178 about two miles from town.” She slid her hand across the jagged teeth of glass. “The driver has a faint pulse.”
“Help is on the way. Is there danger of a fire?”
Andi stared at the shattered hood. “The steam has subsided.”
A whimpering sound caused Andi to turn her head. “There’s a baby.” For a moment she froze. The mewling sound became an ear-shattering series of screams. The injured woman never stirred.
Andi leaned into the car and unfastened the infant seat and snagged a diaper bag. She carried the seat and bag to her car. Had the baby been injured? She turned to look at the car. Triage. The rules shot into her awareness. Care for the least injured first. She could do nothing for the woman until someone arrived to extract her.
The baby’s screams intensified. Andi took the child from the seat and tried to calm the infant. A wet diaper proved to be part of the problem. While Andi changed the little girl she checked for injuries. None were evident. She paced along the berm and patted the baby’s back, but the cries persisted.
“Hungry?” she whispered. Feeding the child before a thorough neurological exam had been made wasn’t wise. She found a pacifier. The infant sucked, halting the cries. Andi strapped the child into the infant seat she’d brought with the baby.
She left the car windows open. Though the July day wasn’t beastly hot and she’d parked in the shade she worried about the tiny girl. Andi ran across the trail of deep skid marks on the gravel road. She halted at the car to check the driver. Still alive.
Sirens sounded in the distance and came closer. The driver’s pulse beat rapid and steady against her fingers. Andi tried to open the door but no amount of tugging helped. A fire truck, an ambulance, and a police car arrived.
Andi drew a deep breath. Help was here.
“Move aside,” a man commanded.
Andi retreated and watched the firemen remove a tool from the truck. She believed the implement would allow them to force the door. The screeching noise made her cringe. Who was the victim and why had she sped on the hairpin curves of the road? The length of the skids showed she’d tried to stop.
Andi backed away until she reached her car. One of the officers approached. “Did you witness the accident?”
She shook her head. “I heard the crash as I reached the last curve. When I saw the car I stopped and called 911. The driver had a rapid but steady pulse. Then I heard the baby.” She continued her story as she watched the firemen and the EMTs work.
The officer flipped his notebook closed. “Good thing you happened along. She could have been here for hours. The road isn’t well traveled these days.”
Andi looked away. That was a change from the time when she’d lived in Fern Lake. Years ago the road had been busy with cars arriving to buy drugs from her older brothers.
“Sounds like you have medical training,” the officer said.
“I’m a pediatric nurse practitioner.” She watched the EMTs remove the woman from the car. The baby whimpered. Andi lifted the car seat. “I’d better take her to the ambulance before they leave.” She strode across the road.
One of the attendants turned. “Was your baby hurt?”
“She’s not mine. I found her in the rear seat of the wre
cked car. She’ll need a neurological evaluation. I found no other injuries.”
The man took the carrier. “We’ll see one’s done.”
“How is the victim?”
“Barely alive.”
“Any idea who she is?”
He shrugged. “There’s no hand bag, no ID, We can’t access the glove box. Her face is bruised and swollen. Maybe from the accident or for some other reason. The police will have the car towed and they’ll investigate.” He handed the infant seat to one of his colleagues and slid two suitcases inside. “We might find something in these.” He paused on the step. “Who are you?”
“Andi Sherman. I start tomorrow in partnership with Josh Patton and Grace Lunt.”
He smiled. ‘Jack Browne. Heard you were joining them. Why not follow us to the hospital. I’m sure either of your partners would be glad to see you.”
“I could, but I really want to see my apartment and unload my car.” She crossed the road. As she closed the rear door she saw the diaper bag. She turned to shout but the ambulance sped away followed by the fire truck and the police car. Looked as if the hospital had become her destination.
* * *
The jangling noise of three alarm clocks startled Rob Grantlan. He straightened and stared at the computer. Must have dozed. He hit save and stretched.
Six months ago he’d signed a contract giving him his dream. The first of his medical suspense novels had been accepted. He’d signed a contract committing him to two more.
After stretching he rose. Time for a shave, shower, and coffee, before heading to Fern Lake General to okay a deal granting him freedom. He strode to the bathroom between his study and his bedroom and stripped to step beneath the spray. He shaved and returned to the bedroom. He paused at the walk-in closet, found slacks and a shirt. He dressed, checked the time and poured the last of the liquid from his gallon thermos into the cap doubling as a cup. The time had come to relinquish the last tie to his father.
Six months ago his father’s death had set Rob on a path to explore a world he’d always wanted. He could leave a profession the older man had considered marginally acceptable. Rob’s stern and money-loving father had hated his oldest son’s dislike for business. Rob’s younger brother had delighted in making, spending and losing money often not his own. At times the investment schemes had brought rich rewards and others deep losses. The younger man’s life had ended when his car plunged over a cliff after an evening of heavy drinking.
Rob strode through the main room and grabbed his keys from a hook beside the door. He revved the engine of his silver sports car and drove from the cabin to the main road. Full leaved maples and oaks shaded the lane.
He laughed. In an hour he would be free. The money from the sale of the nursing home/rehab center would repay the remaining debts left by his brother and father. With his mother settled in the Florida luxury condo he would be rid of all entanglements and able to follow his desire. With a three book contract and a savvy agent he couldn’t wait to end the old life and begin the new.
Twenty minutes later he pulled into a spot in the doctor’s lot near the hospital’s Emergency Department. He strode to the narrow door beside the wider one for ambulance arrivals. His smile broadened. Old man, I’m not following your rules. Those hated scribblings will rule my life.
According to the older Grantlan writers were dilettantes who didn’t earn important money. Even when Rob had pointed to the hefty advances offered to some authors, his father had scoffed.
As Rob stepped inside, the odors of the hospital reached him. People, antiseptics, and some less than pleasant smells, swirled in the air. As he passed the reception desk one of the women seated behind the L-shaped desk called for him to stop. He turned.
“Who are…Sorry, Dr. Grantlan.”
Rob waved. “No problem.” He strode to the bank of elevators around the corner, entered one and hit five. On the fifth floor he walked to the conference room. At a long table the Board members and two attorneys waited.
Nate Forbes, Rob’s lawyer waved. “Ready for this?”
“More than ready.”
Before long Rob had read, signed, or initialed, a stack of papers. With each stroke of the pen an ounce of weight slid from his shoulders. Finally, he endorsed the check and saw the papers notarized. After passing the endorsed check to his attorney he grinned.
Free at last.
He rose. “You know what to do with the money.”
Nate Forbes nodded. “Take care of the taxes and finish paying the people your father and brother cheated. Do you think we’ll ever find where they hid their stash?”
“Doubtful.” Rob strode to the door. Euphoria filled his thoughts. He felt as though he’d drunk a magnum of champagne. The glow of freedom filled him.
He bolted for the elevators and collided with a woman. “Sorry.”
Manon Marshall grasped his arm to steady herself. “My fault for barging out of Rafe’s office.”
“We’ll share the blame.”
“You look pleased. I guess the sale went through.”
He felt his grin broaden. “Certainly did.”
“Are you really giving up your medical practice?”
“Absolutely.”
She frowned. “Aren’t you wasting your education? You’re a good doctor. Why walk away?”
“I’ve found a different way to use what I learned.” He released a held breath. He had an answer for her but it was too soon to let everyone know. “Medicine wasn’t my first choice.”
“Then why go to med school?”
“My father insisted I pursue a real career. Even during my school and residency I felt like an actor playing a part. Every day as I drove to the nursing home I kept repeating, today I am a doctor.”
She pressed for the elevator. “Then you’re right to walk away. I wish you luck.”
“Thanks.” Though he wanted to shout to everyone that soon he would be a published author, he refrained. She wasn’t the person he wanted to tell.
Andi Sherman was, but he had no idea where she’d gone. Immediately after graduating from high school she’d left town. He’d come home from his freshman college year to find her. No one knew where she could be found.
So far his mother, Hattie, Simon, Dana, and Nate, were the only people who knew about the books.
He and Manon rode the elevator in silence. She left on the third floor. “Good luck.”
The doors closed on his response. On the first floor, with a carefree stride, he walked to the doors. He stepped outside into the warm July afternoon. The brilliant blue sky added to his joy. The air smelled of flowers, fresh mown grass and summer. He turned toward the doctor’s lot.
An ambulance blocked his way. EMTs unloaded a gurney. A third carried an occupied infant seat.
Rob glanced at the swollen face of the woman as the gurney sped past. He stared. Even though her face was bruised he knew her. “Patricia.”
The doors closed. His plans for the day changed. He couldn’t leave until he knew why his sister was here, and why an infant had come with her. He looked toward the drive expecting to see a second ambulance. Had his sister caused another accident? He sucked in a breath and entered the treatment area.
“Dr. Grantlan, can I help you?” a nurse asked.
“The woman who just arrived. She’s my sister. Where is she?”
She pointed to one of the curtained cubicles. Rob drew the cloth aside and viewed the scene. An ED physician issued orders. One nurse slid an IV needle into Patricia’s arm. Another placed a mask and adjusted the flow of oxygen.
Rob gestured to the doctor. “Her name is Patricia Grantlan. What’s her condition?”
The doctor turned. “There’s internal bleeding. Dr. Reed just arrived and we’re taking her to the OR.”
Rob stepped to the gurney. He touched his sister’s hand. “Patricia.”
Her eyelids fluttered open. So did her mouth. The mask muffled her words. He leaned closer.
“Hurts…He d
id…Take care of…”
A nurse opened the curtain. “They’re ready for her.” She hung a unit of blood and stepped aside.
“Do you want to observe?” the ER doctor asked.
Rob shook his head. “I’ll take care of the paperwork and stay in the ED waiting room to hear the news.”
As they wheeled his sister away Rob strode to the waiting room door. What had Patricia meant by her words? Had someone hurt her? Was she in danger? Who should he care for?
He stopped at the admissions’ desk. “I’m here about the woman who just arrived by ambulance.”
The clerk looked up. “Dr. Grantlan, do you know her? The EMTs had no idea. They found no identification, but they left two suitcases I was about to open.”
“Her name is Patricia Grantlan.” At her startled gasp he continued. “She’s my sister, but I have no idea if she has insurance. I’ll handle the bills.”
She passed a clipboard holding several forms to him. “Fill these out as best as you can.”
Rob retreated to a seat at the rear of the room. He added as much information as he could. After returning the forms the clerk gave him the suitcases. He returned to his seat on one of the plastic chairs facing a television tuned to a cooking show.
A young woman with light brown hair entered. A diaper bag hung from her shoulder. She must be the baby’s mother. Relief rolled like a stream released from a beaver’s dam. Patricia hadn’t caused a fatality. The young woman stopped at the desk.
Who was she? Though curious, knowing wouldn’t halt the thoughts galloping through his head. Something about the way she stood with one hand on her hip drew him and made him think he knew her. Her shorts revealed long tanned legs. Would her face match the rear view?
He groaned. She reminded him of Andi Sherman. Why think of her now? He’d ruined any chance of a future with her. Twelve years ago, he’d followed his father’s demands and told her he didn’t love her. Once more the words spoken in a steel-coated voice slid into his thoughts.