To Make You Feel My Love

To Make You
Feel My Love

Paradise Beach

Book One

By: Tina Rose

This is a work of fiction. This story is a complete work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to names, places or events is entirely coincidental, and should be viewed as a fictional story.

All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced, distributed or transmitted without the permission of the author.

Copyright
©
2014 Tina Rose

Author has taken artistic license in using products and brands in this book. They are not associated with the publication of this book outside the author’s imagination.

This book is recommended for mature readers 18 years of age and older. It contains adult language and sexual scenes not intended for young readers.

Cover design by Damn Women Promotions

Edited by Write Right Edits

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

First, I’d like to say thank you to my husband, Eric and my family. They’ve believed in me from the beginning, and have stood by my side supporting me and helping me every step of the way.

Next, I’d like to say thank you to my mentors, Becky McGraw and Sidda Lee Rain. Without their help, I would’ve stayed dazed and confused about this process. But, they also encouraged me on the days I was ready to give up and kicked my rear when I needed it. As well as my editor, Carolyn, who gently made me see things in new light, but still helped me to achieve the goals I wanted. Thank you guys!

Finally, I want to thank my friends and sounding boards. Jessie and Marcia, I know I drove you crazy all hours of the night during this process. Kathy, Laurie, Pam, Jax and P.J., my biggest supporters and promoters, what would I do without you guys? Thank you so much!!

I could not have done any of this without their support of friends and family.

I love you all! Thank you for taking this journey with me.

And so, it begins…

CHAPTER ONE

“Code Blue, ICU 10…. Code Blue, ICU 10…” The loudspeaker blared for all to hear, but Alana Hatfield was already on the scene.

“Matt, I’ll have to ask you to leave!” she said, looking at the young man in the room who suddenly turned pale when the alarms on his mother’s bed
sounded. He was motionless. His mom was all he had left in the world. She raised him by herself since his father passed away when he was only eight. He was barely twenty-five now. Alana quickly guided him by the shoulders out of the room into the hall.

The room was small, but everyone jumped into action. The crash cart was by the foot of the bed. Paula, the respiratory therapist, had gotten a step stool and begun
CPR on Mrs. Gentry. She was the best respiratory therapist in the hospital, standing at a mere 5 feet tall, but she would not stop chest compressions on a patient until the doctor called it or she lost all feeling in her arms, and even then, it was anyone’s guess if she would give up.

“One more unit of epinephrine!” Dr. Patel barked sternly. Becky, Alana’s best friend and fellow nurse, was documenting each movement during the code. Alana rushed to the cart to grab the next dose of epinephrine and Paula stopped giving chest compressions long enough for Dr. Patel to check for a heartbeat. Finally, a faint heartbeat. The whole room breathed a sigh of relief. Alana felt like she had climbed Mt. Everest.

“Matt…” she whispered to herself. He was leaning on the window and looked as if he may pass out. She ran to his side, grabbed his hands and gazed at his face. If he realized she was there, it didn’t show. He was in shock. He didn’t say a word, he just continued to stare at his mother’s lifeless body. She was a beautiful woman, inside and out. Dark brown hair, bright green eyes, Sheila Gentry was only 43 and had been a nurse herself for 20 years. She had saved many lives, and yet, here she lay.

“Matt!” Alana called. He finally looked at her. Tears filled his eyes, he grabbed hold of Alana and began falling to the floor. “Becky…” she yelled. “Becky, I need some help!” Alana did her best to keep him from collapsing to the floor. He was a muscular
y
oung man at almost six feet tall, towering above her 5’4” petite body. Becky ran to his side, each woman putting an arm around him to hold him up, and leading him to the nearest seat. “Matt, she’s okay, the doctor saved her
.
She’s alive!!”

Matt had just turned twenty-five and was a student at the local state college. He was a stunningly handsome young man with dark brown hair and green eyes like his mother’s. He was juggling between classes
a
nd taking care of his mother
,
who was
s
truggling with heart disease. She had been in the hospital for twenty eight days, and Alana’s patient every shift she had worked. A lot can happen in twelve hour shifts. During that time Alana had had several long discussions with Matt and Sheila and they had gotten to know one another on a personal level. That wasn’t uncommon in this field, getting to know the patients and their families. But now, thinking of Matt’s situation, Alana began to feel as though she had a personal responsibility to him.

“She’s alive?” Matt looked stunned, the corners of his mouth twitched as if not sure whether to laugh or cry.

“Yes…she’s alive,” Alana said, smiling and squeezing his arm. “Your mom is a fighter, she’s not ready to go down yet. She’s a long way from going home Matt, but the doctor thinks once this transplant is complete, she’ll be fine.” She knew Sheila still had a long road ahead of her, but Alana was optimistic about her recovery.

Matt finally smiled, “Thanks Alana, I’m going to go make some phone calls.” He pulled his phone from his pocket, and walked away.

“So, how do you feel? A bit overwhelmed?” Becky knew Alana all too well. She and Alana had been friends since Alana graduated from high school. Although Becky Harris was nearly five years older than her, they were best friends. Becky was
the reason Alana had become a nurse in the first place. They met when Alana visited a friend’s mother in the hospital her senior year of high school. Becky had been the lady’s nurse. She seemed fun loving, warmhearted, and loved her job. Alana mentioned she was interested in nursing, and Becky had been quick to encourage the thought and offer her phone number if she needed any advice or help along the way.

“I feel like I just ran a marathon.” Alana’s eyes began to water. She looked towards the wall to try and gain control of the tears. She never knew the feeling of actually saving a life, until right at this moment.

“Alana, I know what you’re feeling. We all feel this way when we save our first patient. It’s the rush of adrenaline and once you come down, you sometimes feel weak.” Becky rubbed Alana’s shoulders and pulled her into her arms.

“Hey, you know what we should do?”

“Slip in the doctor’s on call room and take a nap?” Alana retorted.

“Ha. Ha. Smartass. A girl’s night out!” Becky said, with a mischievous smile across her mouth, bouncing her eyebrows up and down. “It’s bike week, so let’s go find us some hot ass bikers.”

“I don’t think so, not tonight. I need a hot bath and a good night’s sleep after today. For now, I’m going to go see if Matt needs anything before my shift is over.”

All she wanted was time to reflect on her day. She was exhausted and felt it in every muscle of her body. Going out was the last thing she wanted to do.

“Alana, you need to go out with us tonight. You need something to take your mind off today’s events. If you don’t, you won’t get any sleep. You’re too keyed up right now. Key lime pie doesn’t fix everything. Do what you can for Matt, fill out your paperwork, and start thinking about the trouble we can get into tonight. Trust me,” she called over her shoulder.

“A girl’s night out?” Alana murmured to herself, blowing a breath toward the loose curl bouncing on her face. “What the hell is she thinking?”

Alana returned to Matt leaning on the pale cream colored wall outside his mother’s room. The glass door and curtains were open to her room. He was on the phone with someone explaining what was going on with his mom. Looking up at her, he gave her a high voltage, panty melting smile, signaling for her to wait a minute. She noticed again
his green eyes and muscular build. Oh yeah, he could get his share of women. His eyes were still moist from the tears. “Okay Grandma,” he said into the phone, “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He closed the flip phone and looked at Alana.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for my mom,” he said wearily. “You’re her favorite nurse. She said you reminded her of herself when she started nursing” He reached for her hand, she thought for a handshake, but he pulled her in for a tight hug.

“Your mom is an amazing woman, and a fighter,” she said. “She makes me proud to be a nurse.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Tears began to fill his eyes again. He knew just how close he had come to losing his mother today. Alana rubbed his arms.

“Matt, I couldn’t help overhear your conversation. Is your family coming to give support?” she asked while gently touching his hand.

“Yeah, my grandparents live in Indiana. They’re catching a flight in the morning. They were my father’s parents, but we have always stayed in close contact. My grandfather isn’t in the best of health, which is why they haven’t already been down. Grandma has her hands full with his medications, oxygen and doctor’s visits. He has CHF and COPD. Mom and I told them there was no use in them coming down until the operation. They’ll be here tomorrow afternoon. Is it okay if I go in to see her now?”

“Sure,” she answered. “If there is anything I can do, please feel free to ask. You know how to find me, just give me a call.” They both stood and hugged again, before Matt gave her one more smile and entered his mom’s room.

* * * * * * * *

Logan Montgomery sat on the edge of the medical table waiting for the doctor to return. The room felt clinical, like most hospitals do. He spent his share of time in this place. It was a small room with a tiny sink basin, a few cabinets, a medical table and a stool. There were diagrams on the walls of arms, legs and shoulders. A film viewer hung in the middle of the wall. No windows or anything fancy. Just four walls. A drunk driver had damned near killed him on his motorcycle, but after a long stint in the hospital, several operations, and months of physical therapy, he was finally able to return to his life. At least he hoped. He was more than ready to return to work. At thirty-three years old, he was a staff
sergeant in the US Army Special Forces, and couldn’t remember the last time he had so much time on his hands. His physical therapist said he wasn’t one-hundred percent yet, but he was confident that as a disciplined soldier, Logan would be able to return to his normal life within a short matter of time, although, he
would probably have a slight limp.

Dr. Adams entered the room. “Well, everything looks good son, but I think for now you should continue with light duty.” He was an extremely tall, slender man with dark skin, gray hair and glasses. “I’ll send a full report to your lieutenant and let him know you’re clear to return for light duty. In the meantime, you should spend the rest of your time off doing something fun. It won’t be long until you’ll be back to work and wishing you had spent more time relaxing and less time worrying about work.” He slapped Logan on the back as he left the room.

That was it? After all this time? He was free? Well hell. The doctor said he could return to his normal activities. Well, light duty, but he knew it wouldn’t be long until he was back to his normal routine.

Lieutenant Sam Hendrix had
required Logan to take a long furlough after being released from the hospital. It wasn’t so much of a furlough as a required leave of absence. Seeing a physical therapist had been a requirement, so he had returned home to Birmingham, Alabama for rehabilitation before returning to base for a full evaluation.

Logan joined the military straight out of high school. Not that he had much of a choice in the matter. It
was that or face jail time and a permanent record. That, of course, his father would have never allowed.

After serving two terms in Afghanistan, Logan had returned to Fort Stewart awaiting his next deployment before the accident. He had just left the local tavern after having a few drinks with the guys. The driver in the car behind him was too drunk or too stupid to see him at the red light, and plowed him over. His Harley Davidson VRSCDX V Night Rod, or Lucinda as he liked to call her, had only been banged up a little. He had bought her at a bike rally in Myrtle Beach. He often joked that she was the only girl he would ever love. After this, he was thinking seriously of giving her up.

He thoroughly enjoyed his job. He loved traveling to different countries, the adrenaline rush he got with each new assignment. But most of all, he loved defending his country with some of the best men he had ever met. His father had been a military man himself, but decided against re-enlisting once Logan was born. A decision Logan felt his father
regretted. A decision that made him push Logan into enlisting.

Logan loved his childhood home. It was a yellow, two-story farmhouse style home with a wraparound porch. His mother hung a porch swing on each corner, and it was adorned with huge ferns hanging from the eave by each post. Spending time with his mom was something Logan enjoyed, and she was a huge asset during his long, arduous recovery. The tension between he and his father hadn’t changed since he left for the army almost fifteen years ago. He needed to get away before the fireworks started.

A dust cloud rose on the dirt road leading to Logan’s house. Dusty Richards, Logan’s best friend since pre-school, pulled up in the driveway in his red Chevy Silverado pick-up. Dusty was a good ole country boy. His mom and dad owned a dairy farm in Birmingham where he worked for them. He worked hard and played harder. He was tall, always looked like his wavy dark brown hair was in need of a cut, and
never
cared what came out of his mouth. Women loved that about him. Logan could never understand why.