Rainshadow Road

“A bike can be replaced. You can’t.”

“You were sweet to come here,” Lucy said. “I know how busy you are.”

“Are you kidding? Nothing’s more important than you or Zoл. She wanted to come too, but someone had to stay at the inn.” Justine paused. “Before I forget, Duane wanted me to tell you that they’ve figured out the problem with your car. It has cylinder compression problems.”

“What does that mean?”

“It could involve a faulty intake valve or piston rings, cylinder head gaskets … Duane’s taking it to the shop to make sure it’s fixed right. No idea how long it might take.”

Lucy shook her head, exhausted and disoriented. “With my leg all messed up, I probably won’t be able to drive for a while anyway.”

“You have a legion of bikers who’ll take you anywhere you want to go.” Justine paused. “As long as you don’t mind getting there on a Harley.”

Lucy managed a faint smile.

The doctor, a black-haired man with tired eyes and a pleasant smile, came in.

“I’m Dr. Nagano,” he said, approaching Lucy. “Remember me?”

“Sort of,” Lucy said sheepishly. “You asked me to touch my nose. And you wanted to know my middle name.”

“Part of a diagnostic test. You have a slight concussion, which means you’ll need to rest for the next few days. And in light of your X-rays, that won’t be a problem.”

“You mean my leg? Is it broken?”

Dr. Nagano shook his head.

“Oh, good,” Lucy said.

“Actually, a clean break would be preferable. A bone heals more easily than a strained ligament.”

“That’s what I have? A strained ligament?”

“Three of them. Plus a hairline crack in the fibula, which is the smaller of your two calf bones. Needless to say, you’re going to be completely off your feet for the next three days.”

“I can’t even walk from one room to another?”

“That’s right. No weight at all on that leg. Keep it elevated and iced. Those ligaments are going to require some time to heal properly. I’ll be sending you home with some detailed instructions. In three days, you’ll come back for an Aircast brace and crutches.”

“For how long?”

“A minimum of three months in the brace.”

“God.” Lucy closed her eyes.

“Any other injuries?” she heard Justine ask.

“Scrapes and bruises, nothing major. The important thing is to monitor her for any side effects from the concussion … headache, nausea, confusion … in which case she’ll need to come in right away.”

“Got it,” Justine said.

After the doctor left, Lucy opened her eyes and saw Justine rubbing her forehead as if it was a wadded-up piece of paper she was trying to smooth out.

“Oh,” Lucy murmured in dawning dismay. “You and Zoл already have your hands full, don’t you?” For the past few days, they had been frantically preparing for a huge wedding and reception that would be held this weekend. “This is the worst possible time for me to do this to you.”

“You didn’t do it on purpose,” Justine said. “And it’s not like there’s ever a convenient time to get hit by a car.”

“I’ve got to think of what to do … where to go…”

“Do not worry,” Justine said firmly. “From this moment every bit of your energy is going to be spent healing up. Not stressing. I’ll figure out what to do.”

“I’m so sorry,” Lucy said with a sniffle. “I’m a pain in the ass.”

“Shut. Up.” Justine reached for a fresh tissue and clamped it to Lucy’s nose as if she was a child. “Friends are the support bras of life. We don’t let each other down. Right?”

Lucy nodded.

Justine stood and smiled at her. “I’ll be in the waiting room, making a few calls. Don’t go anywhere.”

* * *

From the moment Sam had gotten Justine’s call, he’d been seized with grim anxiety. “I’ll be there” was all he’d said, and within fifteen minutes, he had reached the clinic.

Entering the building with ground-eating strides, he found Justine in the waiting room.

“Sam,” she said, a ghost of a smile crossing her face. “Thanks for coming here. It’s a hell of a situation.”

“How’s Lucy?” he asked curtly.

“A mild concussion, scrapes and cuts, and her leg is totally messed up. Strained ligaments and a fracture.”

“Damn it,” he said softly. “How did it happen?”

Justine explained in a flurry of words, while he listened without comment. “… so she can’t move at all for a few days,” she finished. “And even though Lucy doesn’t weigh much, Zoл and I can’t carry her around.”

“I’ll help,” Sam said at once.

Justine let out a deep sigh. “Thank God. I adore you. I knew you’d have enough room at your house, and Zoл and I have the wedding from hell at the inn this weekend. We won’t have one spare second, and there’s just no way we could—”

“Wait,” Sam interrupted brusquely. “I can’t take Lucy to my house.”

Justine clamped her hands on her hips and gave him an exasperated glance. “You just said you’d help.”

“Yes, help. She can’t stay with me.”

“Why not?”

The strength of his objection had left Sam temporarily mute. He had never let a woman spend the night at his place. And he especially didn’t want Lucy in his house. Especially not wounded and needing him. He had gone tense all over, a mist of sweat covering his skin.

“Why can’t someone else do it?” he asked tersely. “What about her parents?”

“They live in Pasadena.”

“Doesn’t she have other friends?”

“Yes, but not on the island. With the exception of Zoл and me, she lost the friends she made with Kevin. They didn’t want to piss him off by taking her side.” With exaggerated patience, Justine asked, “What exactly is the problem, Sam?”

“I barely know her,” he protested.

“You like her. You rushed right over here when I called.”

“I don’t know Lucy well enough to help her in and out of bed, carry her to the shower, change the bandages, all that stuff.”

“What, you’re all prudish now? Come off it, Sam. You’ve been with a lot of women. Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“It’s not that.” Sam paced across the empty waiting room, raking a hand through his hair. How could he explain the profound danger of intimacy with Lucy? That the problem was how much he actually wanted to take care of her? He didn’t trust himself with her. He would end up having sex with her, taking advantage of her, hurting her.