Summer of Love Marie Ferrarella (easy books to read in english TXT) 📖

One of the emergency services workers knelt beside her. “What have you got?”

Jessi glanced at the man, who looked to be almost as young as Chelsea. “Possible rib fractures.” She read off the woman’s vitals. “How’s the little girl next to us?”

“Fractured wrist, but she looks good to go.”

Jessi’s patient broke down in tears. “Is that her? My daughter?”

It was amazing someone hadn’t been more seriously injured or even killed in that fall. But luckily the bleachers had been built on dirt rather than a harder surface like concrete or asphalt.

She turned to the EMT. “Can you ask Dr. Marks if his patient’s name is Brandi? It’s her daughter, if so.”

“Sure. I’ll be right back.”

Asking everyone to move back as he did so, she finally had a clear line of sight to Clint. He gave her a reassuring wink that made her smile.

God, how familiar that was. And it still made a jolt of electricity go through her system.

The girl was indeed Brandi, and within minutes everyone had been bundled up into two ambulances, which were creeping back between the throngs of horses and people, and soon disappeared. The sirens were off this time, probably trying not to spook the horses and risk more accidents.

Clint grasped her elbow and eased her over to the side. “They’re taping off the bleachers.”

Her adrenaline was just beginning to dissipate from her system. “I felt the piece of metal give a little bit earlier, but it’s been here for ages. I had no idea it could come loose.”

“Just an accident.”

“Thank God it wasn’t worse. How about the person who fell, trying to get down?”

“Evidently they were all okay, since we didn’t have any other patients.”

With the excitement dying down, people were moving over to the rail next to the arena as the remaining barrel racers moved back into position.

“Do you want something to eat?”

She glanced up at him. “You can eat, after all that?”

He tweaked her chin. “They’re all fine, Jess. Let’s enjoy the rest of the day.”

Their patients may have been fine, but Jessi wasn’t so sure about herself. The memory of his hand grasping hers as he’d hauled her up the steps wound around her senses. She missed his touch. Wanted to reach over and …

The cell phone on Clint’s hip buzzed. The hospital? Her whole body stiffened as dread rose up to fill her being.

Clint’s system went on high alert as he put the phone to his ear.

“Marks here.”

“Clinton? Clinton Marks?”

Frowning, he tried to place the feminine voice on the other end of the line. While the light Southern drawl was familiar, it definitely wasn’t anyone from the hospital, because they would have called him “Doctor.” If this was some telemarketer, they were about to get an earful for scaring Jessi.

And she was scared. He could read it in her stiff posture and the hands clenched at her sides.

He decided to go ultra-formal. “This is Dr. Marks.”

“Well, Dr. Marks—” there was an air of amusement to the voice now “—this is Abigail Spencer, Jessi’s mom. Chelsea’s grandmother. You remember me, don’t you?”

Hell. That’s why she sounded familiar.

He mouthed “Your mom” to relieve Jessi’s fears, wondering why she was calling him instead of Jessi.

Jessi evidently had the same idea as he did, because she frowned and checked her phone. Maybe it was dead or something.

Clint and Jessi’s dads had both been stationed at the same base, so he’d seen her parents quite a bit during his school years. His memories of Mrs. Spencer were of a kind woman with blond curls very like her daughter’s and a quiet smile. So very different from his own mother’s tense and fearful posture that had cropped up anytime she’d heard that front door open. Or how she would place her body in front of her son’s until she had gauged what mood her husband had brought home with him. He rubbed a thumb across his pinky. His mother hadn’t always been able to protect him, though.

Which was why the Spencer household had seemed so strange and alien to him. He’d never been able to shake the feeling that Jessi’s mom had seen right through to the hurting kid hidden beneath a rebellious leather jacket and spiked hair. He brought his attention back to Jessi’s mom as the silence over the phone grew awkward. He cleared his throat. “Of course I remember you. How are you?”

“Anxious to see my granddaughter. But Jessi told me that’s not a good idea right now. I want to ask why. It’s been over two months.”

He didn’t understand what that had to do with him, unless Jessi had used him as an excuse to deflect her visits. But whatever it was, that was between the two of them as far as he was concerned.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Spencer. I really think you should talk to your daughter about that, because I can’t discuss Chelsea’s treatment. Jessi would have to give written authorization to—”

A poke to his arm made him look at the woman beside him. She shook her head.

Mrs. Spencer’s voice came back down the line. “I can do better than that. Why don’t you come over for dinner tonight? Jessi will be here, and we can hash all this out between the three of us.” There was a pause. When her voice came back it was on the shaky side. “I’m her grandmother. Don’t you think I’m entitled to know what’s going on?”

“Again, that’s not up to me.” He felt like an utter jackass for saying those words to a woman who’d been nothing but nice to him during his time in Richmond, but Jess was staring holes right through him. “Jessi has medical power of attorney at the moment.”

“She’s trying to protect me, but I don’t need protecting.” An audible breath came through the receiver. “Won’t you please come to dinner?”

There was no way he was going to walk into a situation like that without Jessi being fully aware of what was coming, and he wasn’t willing to admit her