Sophie's Path

In all that time, Sophie’s modus operandi for dealing with men never changed. She was an expert at getting a man’s attention, but once she’d landed him, she threw him back. Catch and release.

Sophie had come to realize that her commitment phobia and the lighthearted, devil-may-care persona she put on for the world to see, was just flat boring. Like a hamster in a cage, she was spinning her wheels and getting nowhere with her life.

The problem was that in a small town where everyone knew everyone’s business and had very long memories, her flirtatious ways had caused her to lose many people’s respect. And that was unacceptable to her.

Sticking her earbuds in her ears, Sophie smiled to herself. She bent down to press her nose to her knees as she clasped the backs of her thighs. She’d made some real changes over the past year.

Running had become nirvana for her and for the first time she had the body she’d always wanted. These days when she got depressed, she headed for the lake trail instead of a dish of Louise’s salted caramel and pecan ice cream. Her favorite store now was the organic farmer’s market. She had stamina that she hadn’t known before, and her weekend shifts at the ER, which could run as long as eighteen hours, didn’t compromise her regular weekday workload helping Dr. Nate Barzonni with heart surgeries.

Despite all these changes, Sophie hadn’t yet gotten a handle on love. She had no earthly idea how she’d overcome her bad habits, phobias and insecurities, but this was the year she’d start trying. Her self-help podcasts promised she could make it happen. She had to think differently and then she’d be able to make the right choices. She had to trust in the universe. Believe in the laws of attraction. Be the master of her own fate. Write her own script...

Her cell phone blared with an ambulance siren alert. It could only mean the ER was calling.

Sophie halted her run before it even started. She whipped the cell out of her shorts’ pocket. “Mattuchi here.”

The excited woman’s voice on the other end said, “How fast can you get here? We have a multiple-car accident on its way in from Highway 421. Possible DOA.”

“I’m there,” Sophie shouted into the phone, already sprinting toward her car.

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_bdac6da2-54f0-56a0-ab1a-099a79ad9a91)

JACK CRAWLED OUT of the rabbit hole. Or maybe it was some kind of wartime trench. Lights were flashing like mortars and bombs exploded. But this wasn’t war. He’d never been in a war, though he’d seen those kinds of movies. Maybe he was in a movie. No. Impossible. This wasn’t the drainage tunnel either, because they’d moved him out of that.

But who were “they”?

“Can you hear me, Mr. Carter?” a woman asked in the softest, most melodious caress of a voice he’d ever heard. It came to him like the peals of church bells tumbling through a mountain valley, distant yet beckoning.

It had happened. He’d died. Life was over. Pfft. Just like that. And this voice was that of the angel sent from heaven or the beyond to take him to his new life. He was struck by the utter finality of it all.

A thousand regrets fluttered across his heart. Jack never thought of himself as a family man, but the first person he pictured was his sister, Ava. He’d never see her again. Nor his brother-in-law and business partner, Barry. Would Ava be okay without her big brother Jack to watch out for her? Would Barry be able to handle the company without Jack’s guidance? And what about his niece, Kaylee? She wasn’t even a year old yet. He’d arranged for a bank account in her name to start her college fund. Ava and Barry were planning to come to Indian Lake for Katia’s wedding. Jack had hoped to talk them into moving here. Or had he already done that?

Facts tumbled into Jack’s brain like slow-falling snow. No, Ava and Barry still lived in Chicago, but Katia said she missed Ava a great deal and had investigated housing options for them, should they decide to make the move.

Now that Jack believed he was dying, he wished he’d pressed the issue more. He’d missed six months of little Kaylee’s life. Suddenly, oddly, that realization was very important to him and the loss filled him with sadness.

He also realized how vital Katia was to him. She was more than his stellar salesperson, manager and second-in-command at the office. She was a dear friend. He loved her like a sister and she took care of him like he was her brother. Katia juggled her own life—right now, she was planning a wedding and a two-week honeymoon in Italy—managed his business, grew their sales and made certain that just about everything in Jack’s world ran smoothly. How would he manage without her while she and Austin were on their honeymoon?

But if I’m dead, I won’t care. Will I?

His head was a jumble of thoughts and he was having a difficult time sorting out the present from the past. He supposed that was to be expected, considering he was dying. Or was already dead. But how did he get here?

Jack’s head felt like it was torn in two. Pain seared through his temples like a sizzling lance.

If he was dead, why was he in such agony? Think, Jack. Think.

A minute ago he was driving his car, though he couldn’t remember where he was going. Then the squeal of his brakes, the thud of the initial impact with the other car; the grind, crunch and thunder of his car being mangled. And the voices. His voice—cursing. Owen shouting and cursing even louder than Jack. And Aleah’s blood-curdling scream. Then soft whimpers. Then nothing.

Aleah. She was the reason he’d insisted on this seminar in Chicago today. Katia had hired Aleah to be an assistant. Sweet kid. Only twenty-one but with the wired kind of energy he could only get from a triple cappuccino at Cupcakes and Coffee. She didn’t know a darned thing about insurance, but she was smart and so willing to please. Jack had wanted Aleah and Owen to learn as much as they could about the business as quickly as possible. Proper information and training were key. Jack didn’t have time to teach them all he wanted them to know, and this seminar was perfectly timed for his needs.

Needs.

“...needing immediate attention,” the angel voice said. “I’m so sorry if I cause you any more pain, Mr. Carter.” Her voice brought him back to the present. “I have to clean the glass out of your eyes.”

I’m not dying.

Hospital. I’m in a hospital.

She was wiping his mouth with a warm, wet cloth. With light dabs, she sponged at his nose and he realized that the musty smell he’d thought was the drainage tunnel had been the scent of his own blood. He heard, but did not see, the plinking sound of bits of glass as she plucked them away from his face and put them in a hard plastic container.

She leaned her face close to his and he smelled mint mouthwash and a floral perfume.

“Mr. Carter? I know you’ve been through a trial. The police said they had to use the Jaws of Life to get you and the woman out of the front seat.”

Jaws of Life... Was he alive now? He thought he was dead. Floating in the stars. No. He had to be alive because he felt excruciating pain.

“Aleah,” he said, but her name came out like a choke and was indecipherable even to him.

“Mr. Carter, I’m so sorry if I’m hurting you. Am I hurting you?”

The angel’s words somersaulted over each other and didn’t make a lot of sense, and then Jack realized it wasn’t the angel, it was the fact that his brain was working on slow track. But he didn’t mind letting her voice wash over him. It took away his fears.

Impossible as it was, he clung to hope.

“I know it’s difficult to talk. Just go slow, Mr. Carter. Try to say your name. Can you do that for me?” she urged.

He wanted to please her. He didn’t know why, but he thought there might be some kind of judgment about all this. He lifted his tongue. “J-Jack.”

“Wonderful,” she breathed. “Marvelous.” She smoothed the cloth over his right eye and continued to wash it before moving on to his left. “It’s looking good. You’ll probably need some stiches over your eyebrow and along your hairline. Can you open this eye for me?”

The struggle was like Sisyphus pushing his boulder up a mountain. His eyelid barely lifted and what little he could see swam in front of him like a school of silverfish on one of his snorkel dives in the Caribbean. “I’m—not blind?”

“No.” She chuckled softly. “The blood and glass had matted them shut. I’m almost done with the other eye. I’m glad to see that no glass hurt this one.” She continued cleaning his left eye then rinsed the cloth. She used what appeared to be a long pair of tweezers to remove a tiny flake of glass from his upper lash. “You have long lashes. Good thing. They helped to capture this little rascal.”

She wore medical gloves, but he could feel her warmth as she traced her fingertip over the top of his left eyelid. “I think you should go ahead and open this eye for me now.”

Jack couldn’t believe the enormity of his task. If he opened his eye and didn’t see, what would he do? How would he cope? Would he have to have surgery? What if there was no cure?

“You’ll be just fine,” she assured him, touching his forearm and holding his hand in hers. “I’m right here.” She offered him more comfort and more confidence than he’d thought possible. He realized he was deeply afraid.

He finally managed to get his eye open, and as he looked at her he realized that in some sacred part of him, he’d hoped this was heaven, and that she might be an angel. Yet his slow and beleaguered consciousness affirmed that he was alive. As his eyes focused through swollen and bruised lids, he saw a beautiful stranger with an illuminated smile and dark eyes that promised a universe filled with hope.

“Hello, Jack,” she said with that voice he knew would haunt him for the rest of his life, even if he never saw her again.

She had a heart-shaped face; naturally, being an angel of mercy and saving lives, she would be all heart. She wore a white lab coat over maroon scrubs. Her name tag rested over her right side, heart pocket.

S. Mattuchi. RN.

“Nurse Mattuchi?” Jack mumbled, feeling a jagged pain saw through his head.