Page 41 of Healing the Heart

“Surgical Volunteers International. There’s a lot of need in hard-to-reach places, so I travel when there’s a call for an orthopedist. Keiran works with my schedule, but I’m basically ‘as available’ with them.”

“I’m in awe of people who are so generous with their time and their talents,” she breathed. “Do you fix things like cleft palates?”

“That’s not my area. My focus is on other congenital defects like clubfoot, joint malformations, and spinal issues. Whatever they need.”

“You work with kids?” she asked, genuinely fascinated by it all.

“Mainly. It’s rewarding to see how much a simple procedure can change their lives.”

“I can imagine. Where have you traveled?”

“Cambodia, Nicaragua, India, but mainly Africa. In here is the coffee,” he announced, glad for a change in topic.

He led her through the open door of the employee breakroom, which he was relieved to find empty. She was already on edge and didn’t need to be bombarded with more questions.

“How do you take it?” he asked.

“A cream and three sugars.”

Noah didn’t comment, but his lips turned up in a smile. He should have guessed she took her coffee extra sweet, just like her.

They exited the rear of the building into the dimly lit parking garage. Fiona sucked in a breath, her feet coming to a stilted halt as if stuck to the concrete floor.

Noah berated himself silently, calling himself ten times a fool for not anticipating her reaction.

“This is on me. I should have considered the memories a parking garage could trigger so soon after and picked you up out front.”

“I’m okay.” Her death grip on his hand told him otherwise. “Can we please just go?”

“Yeah. We’re right here.” He waved to the Rossi vehicles, all black SUVs with tinted glass, front row reserved parking—thank fuck.

He opened the passenger door and waited for her to buckle up. Her hands were trembling too badly, and he had to help. When he got behind the wheel, he slammed the gearshift into reverse and hauled ass out of there.

She visibly relaxed when they were on the street in the bright California sunshine. But not fully. Her hands clutched the borrowed coffee-filled Yeti with a white-knuckled grip as she stared out the window.

“I’m not usually so fainthearted.”

“I doubt your usual includes seeing what you saw last night.”

She let out a soft laugh, but there was no humor in it. “This is true.”

A loud rumbling echoed throughout the vehicle. Fiona pressed both hands to her stomach. “Excuse me. That was rude.”

“How? It’s involuntary,” he replied, not glad for her embarrassment but that it had shifted her focus and brought a little color to her cheeks. “You haven’t eaten, have you?”

“I was too nervous to eat.”

“Change of plans. Food, the police report, and then home. Where is that, by the way?”

“Culver City.”

“And you work at...”

“Children’s Hospital.”

“Oh, are you in a medical field? Or support?”

“I’m an occupational therapist. I work for the Richmond Rehab Clinic.”

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