Falling Again in El Salvador Read online

  In such close proximity to Bryce, it was impossible not to notice that she was once again enveloped by the cedar spice scent of him. She took a deep inhalation as quietly as she could.

  And then, in spite of herself, she started giggling.

  She couldn’t help it. Somewhere, far in the back of her mind, her physician self was running a mental self-diagnostic. Sleep deprivation accompanied by fits of hysterics, she thought. Diagnosis—you’ve probably run into an ex while in the middle of nowhere.

  “Something funny, Cass?”

  “It’s just that earlier today I was talking to a chicken, and now...” She couldn’t finish, erupting into paroxysms of laughter again.

  “I know,” he said. He rubbed his hand briskly along her arm, comradely. “Weird day, right?”

  “Yeah. Super weird.” Her laughter fading. “Sorry. It’s just that I haven’t slept in twenty-four hours, and then when you showed up on that motorcycle...it was just so unexpected.”

  “I wasn’t expecting to see you, either,” he admitted. “I was just heading out to pick up the new doctor for the camp. I had no idea it’d be you.”

  His breath tickled her ear, and she felt another wave of worry. So much had happened, and they weren’t even at the camp yet. There’d been no time for either of them to adjust to the shock of seeing each other again or to process the situation at all.

  “Are we going to be okay working together?” she said.

  “As I recall, we always worked well together.”

  “Until we didn’t.”

  He groaned. “Cassie...it’s in the past. We made the decision we made. And a lot has changed in five years. Can’t we just focus on how to move forward?”

  His breath tickled her ear, ever so slightly. He was so close she could almost feel his lips brush her skin. How long had it been since Bryce had held her this close?

  Five years, three months and six days.

  The whole point of breaking up with Bryce via note five years ago was that it had allowed her to flee his apartment without confronting him. Because she’d known that if she had to face him, he would convince her to stay. She wasn’t proud of what she’d done. It had simply been what was required, in order for her to follow through with the breakup. The one thing she couldn’t steel her resolve against was seeing Bryce in pain. And it was the thought that staying with him could result in even more pain that had spurred her onward all those years ago. She didn’t know how he could look at her and not see the woman who had cost him a prestigious fellowship, and who had almost cost him his job. Who might still have cost him his job if anyone had found out they were dating. And so she’d left, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to see him again without betraying both herself and him.

  And now here he was, asking if they could move forward.

  His body was so warm next to hers. His arm settled so naturally around her waist. As though no time had passed since the last night she lay curled beside him.

  Did she want to move forward? She supposed they didn’t have a choice. Lying next to him and sneaking surreptitious inhalations of his scent was nice, but it didn’t get them anywhere. They’d never be able to work together if she was still holding on to the past.

  “You’re right,” she said. “We did work well together. And in spite of everything that’s happened between us, the fact that you’re here speaks well of the organization. They must be a very committed group of doctors to have you on the team.”

  “Very kindly said, Dr. Andover,” he replied. “See? Just because we have a past doesn’t mean we can’t be professional.”

  “I agree,” she said. “Although...maybe we don’t need to tell our professional colleagues about tonight’s sleeping arrangements.”

  “You read my mind.”

  After several minutes more, Cassie began to hear slow gentle snores from Bryce. She was glad he’d been able to get to sleep. She, however, was having more trouble.

  Because it had been a long time since she’d been nestled in someone’s arms. And...it had been a while since she’d had sex...

  Five years, three months and six days, in fact.

  As she felt Bryce’s body shift in his sleep, his arm tightened around her and pulled her closer to him.

  Staying professional wasn’t going to be easy.

  No, it wasn’t going to be easy at all.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THERE WAS A small commotion the next morning when Cassie and Bryce arrived back at the medical camp. Bryce’s motorcycle had taken more damage than expected, and they’d had to walk the rest of the way with Bryce pushing the bike along. The ankle that Cassie had jarred when the bike had broken down still felt a bit tender, but she told Bryce she was simply footsore from walking so much the previous day. She knew if she mentioned her ankle to Bryce, he’d be concerned, and there was nothing she hated more than someone fussing over her. The last thing she wanted was for that person to be Bryce.

  Dr. Enrique Garcia, the camp’s director, met them at the entrance.

  “I told you there’d be trouble with that motorcycle,” he said, shaking his head at Bryce.

  “It made more sense to take the bike than the milk truck. The bike’s faster,” Bryce replied.

  “Faster! Right, so much faster that you arrived twelve hours later than you planned. I can’t imagine what kind of ramshackle operation our new doctor thinks we’re running here.” He turned to Cassie. “I can’t tell you how glad we are to have you here, Dr. Andover.”

  Cassie shook his proffered hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

  “Cassie and I are actually...old friends,” said Bryce.

  If Enrique caught the hesitation in Bryce’s voice, he didn’t show it. “Let’s get you settled in,” he said. “I can assure you that despite the rustic appearance of our camp—” he waved an arm to indicate the cinder block walls and portable canvas medical tents in the forest clearing behind him “—we do have access to some decent amenities and technology. It’s just that yesterday our internet happened to be down, and we were hit by a number of emergencies all at once, including a complicated breech delivery that Bryce got caught up in.”

  “Why would Bryce get caught up in a complicated delivery?” Cassie asked. “He’s a surgeon, not an obstetrician.” She turned around to look for Bryce, who was already striding across the camp.

  “Need to check on Mrs. Martinez!” he called over his shoulder as he sauntered away.

  He didn’t have to leave so fast, Cassie thought. But then maybe he was just that eager to get away from her. Even after all their discussion of keeping things professional the night before, maybe Bryce still didn’t know exactly how to get through the awkwardness of working together again. To be honest, she didn’t know, either.

  Enrique looked a bit taken aback. “Well, with Bryce otherwise occupied, I suppose I’ll be the one to show you around.”

  “I could show her around.” A boy of about ten had come to see what all the commotion was about.

  “Not right now, Manny,” said Enrique. “But why don’t you run Dr. Andover’s pack over to her living quarters for her? She’s in block seven.” Before Cassie could blink, the small boy flung her giant backpack over his shoulders and took off at full speed.

  “Are there many children here?” asked Cassie as Enrique led her toward the nearest cluster of cinder block buildings.

  “A handful. Manny seems to be their self-appointed leader for now. He’s very curious, gets into everything—don’t be afraid to be firm if he pesters you too much for chocolate, Dr. Andover.”

  “Duly noted. And please, call me Cassie.”

  As the tour continued, Cassie remembered that no one had answered her question earlier. “You said that Bryce was helping with a breech birth. Was there something so unusual about the case?”

  Enrique looked at her quizzically. “No. Why do you
ask?”

  “Because you said that Bryce was called in,” said Cassie, still wondering why they’d called a surgeon in to help.

  “Yes, of course. Our midwives are incredibly skilled, but it’s nice to be able to have an obstetrician on hand for complex cases.”

  “Bryce...is an obstetrician?”

  “Of course. Almost all the doctors here are.”

  Her mind was spinning. She’d known the medical camp focused on providing services to new mothers and women giving birth, but somehow, when Bryce had picked her up on his motorcycle, she hadn’t put the pieces together. She’d been so overwhelmed by seeing him again, by everything that had happened since she’d left home, that she hadn’t bothered to think carefully about what Bryce’s presence here might mean. He wasn’t a surgeon anymore. He was an obstetrician.

  Why wasn’t he a surgeon anymore? Had he lost his job after she’d left him, after all? She couldn’t think of anything on earth that would have led Bryce Hamlin to voluntarily give up surgery. Even Cassie, who had only been a medical student when they’d met, could see that Bryce was an artist in the operating room. And the passion had been evident on his face whenever he talked about his profession.

  But even if he’d lost his job, why would he change specialties? Surely, he could have gotten a job as a surgeon somewhere else.

  Was he no longer a surgeon because of her? Had she cost him everything, just as she’d feared she would?

  She had to find out.

  “Back when Bryce and I used to work together, he was a talented surgeon,” she said. “Why would he change specialties?”

  Enrique hesitated. “Bryce mentioned the two of you are old friends.”

  “Yes. We used to know each other well but...that was a long time ago. I haven’t seen him in five years.”

  “Ah.” The confusion lifted from Enrique’s face, but he still seemed to be choosing his words carefully. “Then I suppose all I can say is that Bryce reached a point in his life where he needed a change.”

  That was probably true, but it was also frustratingly vague. Bryce had been a rising star in surgery. Why would anyone need a change from that? From Enrique’s hesitant response, she had a feeling that if she wanted to find out, she was going to have to ask Bryce.

  “I’m sure you and Bryce will have a great deal of catching up to do,” Enrique continued, confirming her suspicions that she wouldn’t get much information from him. “Personally, I’m just glad he’s here. I don’t think we’ve ever had a better obstetrician than in the three years he’s been here.”

  Three years. No wonder it had been so easy to avoid news of Bryce. Early on, after the breakup, she’d tried not to hear any news of him through the medical community grapevine. But after a while, it seemed as though he’d disappeared completely. Now she knew why.

  She pulled her focus back to the tour as Enrique pointed out the various buildings and features of the camp, though it was difficult to keep her thoughts from returning to Bryce.

  “What kind of obstetrics cases come in?” she asked.

  “We see a lot of Zika virus, but many of our patients are simply mothers who are undernourished, or who’ve been through enough harrowing experiences during their pregnancy that the fetus is at risk. It’s hard to work without as much modern equipment as we’d like, but our medical team is great at improvising.”

  It sounded as different from Brooklyn General as she could possibly have asked for. Cassie felt a surge of excitement. This was medicine.

  Enrique pointed out the shower unit somewhat apologetically. Six outdoor wooden shower stalls stood in the open air. A hose was rigged above each stall to approximate a showerhead. Cassie couldn’t help feeling a twinge of longing for the luxurious steam-filled staff showers at Brooklyn General, with their organic jasmine soap and tea-tree-oil-infused shampoo.

  “There’s hot water,” said Enrique encouragingly. “Although you’ll want to shower early if you can, because it runs out pretty quickly. And you’ve really got to watch out for the door. It can swing open unexpectedly if the wood gets jostled even the tiniest little bit.”

  He showed her the dispensary, where staff received any necessary medical care and daily doses of antimalarials. She made a mental note to return for a bandage and some pain relievers for her throbbing ankle as soon as the tour was over.

  As they continued, she realized the camp was larger than she’d expected. It was fairly deep within the forest. Earlier that morning, as she and Bryce had been walking and pushing the motorcycle the last five miles to the camp, she’d barely been able to discern the road leading to the front gate. Enrique explained that the camp’s relatively hidden location had a tactical advantage.

  “We can travel wherever we need to in El Salvador, but it’s best if the camp itself is in a location that’s fairly out of the way, so that it won’t become the target of a gang dispute,” he said. “Plenty of the women and families here are escaping domestic violence situations or are seeking refuge because they’re caught in the cross fire of territorial disputes. We’re not exactly hiding, but we also don’t want to be easily found.”

  “I’ve heard that gangs are a significant problem,” Cassie said.

  “One of the most challenging parts of our work involves dealing with the artificial borders created by gang activity,” he said. “Different factions claim territory in the forest and in the mountains, and that makes it hard to deliver medicine and treatments to some of the people most in need. Of course, Bryce has been incredibly crucial in negotiating agreements so that our docs can travel where they need to, no matter who controls the territory.”

  Cassie wasn’t certain she was hearing him correctly. Enrique made it sound as though Bryce negotiated with gang leaders on a regular basis.

  “He has a surprising success rate,” Enrique continued. “And for the mountain areas we absolutely can’t get to, we can always do helicopter drops of medical supplies. Sometimes we’ll have medical personnel drop down as well to perform a procedure. There are women who would have died if we hadn’t been able to send anyone to help deliver the baby.”

  “You do helicopter drops here?” said Cassie.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” said Enrique, mistaking her reaction for fear. “Bryce does most of those. We have a few other physicians who will do them, but most prefer keeping their feet firmly on the ground to jumping out of a helicopter. But you know Bryce. He loves that adrenaline rush.”

  “Right,” said Cassie softly.

  Gang negotiations? Helicopter jumps? Who the hell are we talking about? Because it’s definitely not Bryce Hamlin.

  Clearly, there was even more to the mystery of Bryce than she’d originally thought. Whatever he’d been doing over the past five years, it had involved a lot more than going to the gym. And she was determined to find out what it was.

  * * *

  The moment they’d arrived at camp, Bryce had welcomed the opportunity to head directly to the obstetrics tent, claiming the need to check on Mrs. Martinez. He needed space to think. Ever since he’d driven to the Miraflores bus stop yesterday and laid eyes on Cassie, he’d fought against the tension of two conflicting impulses.

  He wanted to put as much distance as possible between himself and her.

  He wanted to wrap his arms around her, hold her and never let go.

  Sleeping next to her, practically naked in the cramped tent, hadn’t exactly helped to resolve either of those impulses.

  It had felt both sweet and frustrating to be so close to her. There were so many things he remembered that hadn’t changed and yet felt completely new. The way his arm notched perfectly into the curve of her waist as he lay on his side, arm draped over her. The tiny divot in the nape of her neck.

  But they’d both agreed to move forward, and thoughts like this would only serve to keep him stuck in the past.

  Moving on hadn’t c
ome easily for Bryce, especially in the early days after the accident. When that drunk driver had swerved into his car, his life had changed forever. The physical recovery was hard, but giving up his career as a surgeon had been devastating.

  His parents, grandparents and sister were all surgeons. They made jokes about surgery being the family business. Bryce hadn’t always been certain he wanted to follow in their footsteps, but from the moment he first picked up a scalpel, he knew the operating room was where he belonged. Early on in his residency, he developed a reputation for being able to handle especially difficult cases that required singular patience and dexterity. Other doctors didn’t merely praise his work, they described it with words such as gifted and exceptional.

  Once, his father had sat in the operating theater and observed him working. “Son,” he’d said afterward, “there are some people who are good surgeons. But you were born to be a surgeon.”

  At the time, his father’s words had meant the world to him. But after the accident, the memory of that day was like a weight around his neck. If he was born to be a surgeon, and his hands had been permanently injured, then who was he supposed to be now?

  His family and friends didn’t seem to know how to support him. They made well-meaning comments about what a talented surgeon he’d been, but their words only served to remind him of everything he had lost.

  Although no one said it outright, he could tell that some people from his past felt pity for him. Instead of being impressed by the new life he’d built for himself, they lamented the old life that he’d lost.

  If Bryce were being truthful with himself, he missed that old life, too. He missed the life-and-death intensity of the operating room, the pride his family showed in him and the feeling of beginning an operation and knowing exactly what to do next. He missed being the person trusted with the most difficult, delicate cases. Surgery had provided all the excitement he needed in his life—or so he’d thought, until he met Cassie.