PARADISE COVE (PARADISE SERIES Book 1) (20 page)

"Good idea, Mom. I'm sure it will be appreciated." She pulled the rain slicker over her head and opened the door, preparing for the mad dash.

"I'll call you the minute anything happens, and you call me if you get any more news." Then she was out the door and running.

Back at Smooth Sailings, she pulled her sisters aside and told them what was going on. They decided to keep the information to themselves for now. Raul was watching TV, and Miguel was in the hallway outside the bedroom door, wearing a path in the old wooden floor.

"Hey, Miguel, take a break." Kayla smiled, and patted his arm. "I'll go see how she's progressing, and will report right back. Why don't you keep Raul company for a few minutes? Have some of that lemonade and cookies Taylor brought over. She baked the oatmeal raison you love."

He shook his head. "Can't eat—not now. Don't like this bad storm." He ran a hand threw his shaggy black hair, looking ready to pull it out.

"Nothing to worry about," she said, just as a streak of lightning crashed nearby, making a mockery of her words. The cottage shook and she jumped, then gave a sheepish smile. "Sheesh! That was close."

He hit the wall with his fists, then mumbled an apology. "Where's the ambulance? What's taking so long?"

"The weather is slowing things down. Driving is difficult.  Babies take a long time to come." She glanced at the closed door. "I'll let you know in a minute."

She had her hand on the door handle when a cry stopped her. She glanced at Miguel's face. "Was that...?" Hope slammed through her, making her almost weak with relief.

"A baby?" His weathered face broke into a big smile. "Go. See. I'll wait right here."

She closed the door behind her and put her back to the door. Juanita was pumped up with big pillows behind her, and Sean stood next to her, holding an infant in his hands. He cradled the baby as if it were the most natural thing in the world, then handed the tiny pink preemie over to its mother.

Kayla's heart melted when she heard him say, "Congratulations. You have a beautiful daughter." She watched as Juanita kissed the baby's head, then she grabbed hold of Sean's hand and kissed it too.

"
Gracias
." Tears rolled down her cheeks. "My beautiful American girl."

Sean turned his head and looked at Kayla. She blinked back tears, too emotional to speak. She nodded silently, and opened the door to tell Miguel the happy news.

"You have a girl," she said with a smile, and left the door open for him to enter. Then she walked down the hall to tell the others. A minute later they were all crowded around the opening of the door, and Raul sneaked his way through to stand near his father.

"Mama." He buried his head on the edge of the bed. "
Mi hermana, si
?"

She patted his head, and lifted his face. "
Si.
Meet your sister, Raul." She held the baby so he could see her, then kissed his cheek. "What should we name her?"

He beamed, and Kayla could see that this baby would have a loving big brother. "How about 'Merica’?”

Juanita glanced over his head and smiled at her husband. "
Me gusta
. Don't you?"

"Merica is
muy bonita
." Miguel hugged his son and then turned to throw his arms around Sean, who looked like a proud parent himself. "
Gracias
! Merica Sean Hernandez."

Kayla slipped away to call her mother, and to say she'd wait for the ambulance so that Anna could join in the happy moment. Besides, she needed to be alone. Watching the miracle of birth and seeing Sean holding the baby was too much for her to deal with right now. Her insides were in so much turmoil—wanting, needing, loving, with a fierceness she'd never known before. She wanted a baby. She wanted Sean. And she wanted him to want her more than he did his career. And that was so unfair that she couldn't even voice it aloud.

Her gut felt like a giant fish hook was buried inside. The pain was sharp. Intense. And she couldn't have it. Sean must never know how deeply she felt, because if he did it might hold him back. She couldn't do that to him. He had only come here to heal. Not to stay.

He was a wonderful doctor, an amazingly kind, gentle, generous man. He had a gift to offer the world and Paradise Cove wasn't big enough for a giant like him. He had to go where he could do the most good, and Boston certainly needed him more than the Florida Keys. She had found her safe haven, and by damn she was staying put. Therefore, she had to do the right thing. Come morning, Kayla would say good-bye to Sean and watch him sail away, even if her heart accompanied him home.    

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

It was the usual hour when Kayla would get out of bed and go for her run on the beach, but today she stopped at Rhapsody instead. She knocked softly on the door and as if expecting her, Sean opened right away.

He was dressed in his shorts and tee, and beside the door, she could see his bags were packed. He was leaving, and she wondered if he would have waited to tell her or slipped away in order to avoid this painful farewell.

"You're leaving." She walked into the room. "Were you going to say good-bye?"

"I'm not sure. I was having my coffee and trying to decide what I would say."

"And here I am." She lifted her chin and met his eyes. "I came here to tell you to go, so it looks like we're on the same page with that."

"Kayla..." he glanced down at his feet. "You know this is not easy for me. We discussed all the reasons why I should leave, and why I want to stay. Juanita giving birth last night changed everything. I feel like my job here is done. It's time to go."

She swallowed a big lump in her throat. It was choking her. "Yes. It is." She tried to smile but was afraid it was more of a grimace. "It's okay, Sean. You are doing the right thing. You came here to heal, and I hope you have. This place is too small for you and you have to go where you can use your talents." She said the words she'd rehearsed all night, but they were hollow. Empty. "I wish you all the best, and much happiness. You deserve it. Don't ever forget that."

He put out a hand and tried to pull her in for a hug, but she wasn't having any of it. "I do love you, Kayla."

"When you get back home, you'll forget all about me."

"I won't. And I will come back."

"You say." Oh, dear heaven, don't let her cry. Her gut was churning, her heart torn in shreds. "Well, in any case, you know where we all live and if you do get this way again, please drop in."

"Kayla," he frowned. "Don't do this. Don't belittle what we had between us. What we have," he corrected.

"I'm not. I'm a realist, that's all. I knew that we were having a casual affair. It was not a lasting relationship. I enjoyed every minute, don't get me wrong, but the main reason I put my heart on the line was for you. So you'd see that you still have so much to live for." She moved away, one hand on the door. "I'm not so full of myself that I take all the credit. Your saving that family from certain death helped save you too. What you did was an amazing thing, and I will always remember. Everything."

"Will you take care of them while I'm gone?" he asked. "Make sure the authorities are notified, today if you can."

"Of course. Don't worry. They will be well looked after. We are going to hate to see them go." Almost as much as you, she thought but didn't voice the words. "You take care of yourself, Sean Flannigan, and email us here at Paradise Cove to let us know how you're getting on."

She smiled brightly, but he wasn't fooled. He took a step forward and before she could react he had pulled her into his arms. He kissed her deeply, until she trembled. This was so unfair. She'd been so strong and now he was making her weak.

Kayla clung to him for a moment, accepting his kisses, trying desperately not to cry. There would be plenty of time for tears after he left. She pushed at his chest, breaking free of his embrace before she held on tight, unable to let him go.

"The operation is scheduled for Friday," he told her. "I notified the hospital to say that I'd arrive late today. I'm taking the boat to Miami and will dock it there. I have a flight out this afternoon."

"I see. That's wise. I suppose it would take days to get to Boston on your sailboat."

"Longer than that. It's over 1300 miles." He smiled. "So you see. I'll be back."

"You'll be in Miami to pick up your boat. That's different than coming back."

"I will see you again." His eyes searched hers. "If you will let me."

"Let's see how things go, okay? Once you get back into the swing of things, you might not be in a hurry to leave." She was eager to end this conversation and get away, knowing a crying jag was coming on. "I hope that's the case. I really want you to be happy. And your work brings you joy, just as running this place makes me happy."  

"You're an amazing woman," he said softly, and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"And you're an amazing man. Good luck with everything. I know you'll be great. You already are." With that, she opened the door and fled.

It was still dark, and the sun was low on the horizon. She picked her way through the mangroves and found the beach. She took off at a run, trying to flee her thoughts and to push past the pain. About a mile later she stopped running and sucked in air. She put her hands on her knees and bent over, heaving with the effort to breathe.

Her lungs were on fire, and her calves were tight. She turned and limped toward home, hoping by the time she got there that his boat would be long gone. From a quarter of a mile away she saw Sara leave the marina, and head out to sea. She sank on the cool, damp sand and let the tears run free. She cried so hard and so long, that her ribs hurt from the heart wrenching sobs, but by the time she was done, she knew she would cry no more.

***

Boston didn't look much different, but as Sean took a cab home from the airport, he felt the change in the air. When he'd left this town he'd been stifled, like he was choking on fumes, and couldn't breathe freely as he did now.

The city had seemed oppressive, like a heavy cloud hung over it. Now he knew the cloud had circled him, keeping away light and sunshine and anything that might penetrate his protective shell. His dark space had been a comfort to him and he'd clung to it fiercely, not wanting to let it go. It had driven away his wife, his friends and most of the well-meaning people that had the bad fortune to be near.

His stay at Paradise Cove had changed all that. The air felt fresher and he could breathe again. He could respond to the taxi driver and not mind his friendly questions. He even joked about the weather and admitted to being in the Keys.

He was a different man than the one who left six weeks ago. A better man. And he hoped whole. Time would tell. He had surgery to do in a few days and just the thought had his fingers itching. He couldn't wait to get in there and perform the magic he'd  learned so well. Kayla had been right to send him back.

This is where he belonged.

The next twenty-four hours flew by in a blur. He arrived at the hospital and was warmly greeted by all his colleagues and friends, and within a few short hours it was as though he'd never left. Time almost stood still as he sucked in the energy, the sights and sounds and smells that were as familiar to him as his own scent. He strode with renewed confidence, knowing he was revered by many—and the few people who were not enamored wished to be in his shoes instead.

A year ago he had given Brian Dempster a stent for his clogged artery, but it had not stood up. In the past month he'd become short of breath and had felt a lack of energy during his workouts at the gym, or during a round of golf. He'd set up an appointment with his cardiologist and had a stress test done. Not happy with the results, Brian had been sent over to the hospital and had had an EKG and an angiogram. It indicated a ninety percent blockage in one artery, and a slightly higher blockage in a second.

His cardiologist, Dr. Nielsen, had explained that bypass surgery was required. Brian had demanded Sean Flannigan to be his surgeon, and although other top notch doctors were suggested, the affluent and powerful patient remained adamant that Dr. Flannigan was widely known to be the best. 

Sean hoped to hell he was right. That evening he'd gone back to the hotel and had spent a restless night in bed. Tossing and turning his mind had conjured up every possible complication and scenario for this type of routine operation, and he'd refreshed himself step by step. There would be no surprises tomorrow. He knew instinctively how to handle any given situation, and that was a part of the reason he was good at what he did. He was unflappable. Calm. Cool. Controlled.

He took a long shower in the morning, mentally preparing himself for the day ahead. He would prove himself once again and reclaim his role as one of the top surgeons at Mass General.

He entered the hospital early so that he could familiarize himself with his patient and medical history. Brian Dempster was a relatively young man. Sixty-two. Following his procedure last year, Brian had completed six weeks of rehab, and continued to exercise. He didn't smoke, and drank occasionally. Yet, with all that, he now required a double bypass surgery.       

His patient had arrived much earlier to be prepped, and was now waiting for him to scrub up and get to work. His nerves were steady and he felt his heartbeat quicken as he prepared to enter the OR. The patient's age was beneficial for an operation like this, due to the fact that obtaining adequate vessels to use for the grafts was difficult if dealing with someone twenty years older.

Once he obtained the vessels, they would be harvested and used to detour blood around the blockage to the heart. The blood would then be routed around the blocked portion of the diseased vessel.

After that was accomplished, he'd make an incision to open the chest and divide the sternum in half. This was the part of the surgery that a young resident doctor might balk at, but a surgeon with as much experience as he could crack the breastbone as easily as a chef could an egg. The patient's heart would be put "on pump" using a cardiopulmonary bypass machine. This machine would temporarily do the work of the heart and lungs, allowing him to stop the heart and perform the intricate surgery without the distracting movement of a beating heart.

Routine.

He took a deep breath and walked in. The attending nurse smiled at him. "Good morning, Doctor. Good to have you back."

"It's good to be back." He nodded at the others he knew, recognizing the faces above the operating masks. "Shall we have a little Bohemian Rhapsody this morning?"

"Doctor, I thought you always hated pop music."

"Not today, Stella. I'm in a Rhapsody kind of mood." He winked, and the young nurse's eyes widened in surprise.

"Okay. Queen it is." She found the music which another younger physician preferred, and slipped the disc in the player. The room exploded with sound.

"Perfect," Sean said, and went to work.