Page 43 of Healing the Heart

“No, really. I can barely manage one full-time job.”

“I like to stay busy, but I’m thinking of scaling back. The problem is, I’m not sure what to cut. I did my ortho fellowship here in LA and joined a group practice afterward. That pays the bills. But the hardships I saw while in the service haunted me, and I wanted to do something, no matter how small, to help. SVI seemed the perfect way. I enjoy the work I do for Rossi. It challenges me in a different way, which I need after seeing all that I see. Even better, the men I work with are all good friends or former teammates.” His gaze met hers and his voice took on an intimate tone when he concluded, “The club fulfills something deeper, providing a sense of belonging and a shared experience that work or volunteering can’t touch. What are your thoughts?”

“I couldn’t possibly decide for you.”

“If you could, what would it be?” he persisted.

“Well,” she drawled as she thought it over. “The bills have to get paid, and I wouldn’t call traveling the globe volunteering your surgical skills small. If you enjoy moonlighting as a private eye, you should. Life is too short. As for being fulfilled physically...” Her cheeks heated at how very personal this was. “It’s at the base of Maslow’s triangle, with air, water, and food. What we need to survive, isn’t it?”

“Indeed,” he replied softly, with a hint of a smile. “So, you see my dilemma. But, enough about me. How are you getting your needs met? You ended your membership at the club, so we know you aren’t being fulfilled.”

Fortunately, the waitress arrived with their breakfast, and she busied herself with her coffee and spreading jam on her toast.

“Moving on to something that doesn’t make you blush,” Noah teased. “I’m curious. Even on an OT’s salary, the club membership fees couldn’t have been easy to swing. The clinic is nonprofit, operating heavily on donations because we never turn away anyone based on their ability to pay. You could do better financially elsewhere.”

“But I love working with kids, and the underserved need me.”

“Which is why I travel the world with SVI. It sounds like we’re a lot more alike than different, Miss Delacour.”

“Except I don’t have a clinic with my name on it.”

“Touché,” he replied, inclining his head. “Private practice as an orthopedic surgeon can be lucrative, but I had student loans—believe me. It was my wife’s foundation that sponsored the start-up.”

The knife fell from her hand and clattered on her plate. She ignored the attention, too focused on his left hand, specifically his ring finger. It was bare, and there wasn’t a tan line or an indentation.

His somber expression hinted at the answer, then he said, “She died several years ago.”

“I’m so sorry, Noah.”

He just nodded and took a sip of his coffee.

“We met during our fellowship. She was a pediatric orthopedic surgeon, too, and loved working with kids. The foundation and clinic in her honor made sense to me.”

His buoyant teasing mood of moments before was gone and hers along with it.

“If you’re finished, we should probably get across the street and get that official statement done.”

She looked down at her plate seeing the toast was gone without her having tasted a bite.

Chapter 12

You Better Brace for This

FIONA PRIDED HERSELFon living thirty-four years without ever setting foot inside a police station. Her visit was yet another in a string of bizarre experiences. The officer behind the desk greeted Noah like he was a regular. When he told him to go on up, he had no problem finding the violent crime division on the third floor.

---