His Forbidden Bride: 50 Loving States, West Virginia by Theodora Taylor

Author:Theodora Taylor [Taylor, Theodora]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781942167075
Publisher: Rom Tell That
Published: 2016-05-03T22:00:00+00:00

The next thing I know, I’m being shaken awake.

I open my eyes and find myself flat on my back with my legs being held in the air by the diner’s waitress. Meanwhile, a paramedic I’ve met a few times at UWV/Mercy is shaking me awake, yelling, “Dr. Dunhill! Dr. Dunhill! Wake up, doctor. Come on back to us.”

I blink, woozy and confused. “Monty?” I ask.

“Good, she’s coming to.” To the waitress, Monty says, “You can drop her legs now.”

“Where’s your uniform?” I ask when I’m free to sit all the way up.

Monty grins, glancing down at his simple short sleeve button-up and jeans ensemble.

“I was pulling up to have a bite to eat with the wife and kids when that ruckus broke out. I started hustling Shannon and the kids back to the car and then a waitress came out yelling they needed a doctor inside. So I locked the family in the car and responded to the call.”

He throws a wry look at the crowd gathered behind him. Strange. All the patrons who went running as soon as a gun was drawn now seem to be back in triple fold. I can only thank the good God this isn’t L.A., where the first instinct of every person in the place would have been to pull out a camera phone and roll tape.

But then I notice someone is missing from the crowd. “Where’s John?” I ask, scanning the surrounding faces, none of which belong to him.

The paramedic grimaces. “I was afraid he might be telling the truth when that John Doe told the police he was here with you. They hauled him away, along with those two bikers.”

“It wasn’t his fault!” I start to explain. Then feeling silly, I let Monty help me all the way to my feet before explaining, “He took the gun off the biker. Oh my God, I have to go get him! Where exactly is he?”

“They took them to the jailhouse,” the waitress answers. “But they didn’t take any statements, so you know they won’t be keeping them there long. Least not the bikers. Pretty sure they got that whole department on their meth payroll.”

“Man, did he put up an unholy fuss when they took him out of there!” Monty tells me with a shake of his head. “The two bikers went without a word, but that John Doe was yelling about how he couldn’t leave you here. It took three officers to get him in the car!”

“Don’t call him that. He hates being called that,” I snap, unable to keep the rather unprofessional peevishness out of my voice. Hey, I’ve already been caught out on a date with one of the hospital’s former patients, why not exacerbate it with unnecessarily bitchy commands?

I grab my Virkin from a patron who was nice enough to hold it for me while I was resuscitated by an off-duty paramedic. Then I dart back to the table where I find John’s backpack exactly where he left it, stuffed up against the window.

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