Mending the Doctor's Heart Read online

  She thought she could handle any disaster...

  Responding to a tsunami on the tiny island of Guam should be a routine assignment for Dr. Anna Atao. From epidemics to earthquakes, she’s treated patients in the most dangerous and remote places on earth. Except Anna hasn’t been back to Guam since a tragedy there tore her life apart—and she left behind the man she loved. Seeing Nico brings back all the pain and joy of their time together, but Anna knows he’ll never leave the island. And once her deployment ends, she plans to catch the first helicopter back to the mainland. Anna may be an expert in survival, but without Nico, can she ever truly heal?

  “Where are we?” Anna’s eyes were wide with confusion.

  “We’re in that old stone church off Chalan Road,” Nico told her.

  She sprang to her feet. “I went to Lucas’s grave.”

  He nodded. “We tried to reach you on the sat phone but you didn’t answer, so I got worried and came after you. There’s a hurricane going on outside—I needed to get you to safety. You passed out there.”

  “I...”

  Despite everything, he was glad she’d gone to Lucas’s grave. She so desperately needed closure, but it was clear she hadn’t found it. He fought to breathe. How was he going to help her?

  “Do you have any emergency supplies?” she asked. He pointed to his bag and she rummaged through it, coming up with a handful of pills and a water bottle. “Hand me the radio.” The battery-operated device turned on, but there was no signal.

  “I guess we’re stuck in this dungeon until the storm passes,” he said. Not that it was a horrible prospect. This might be the last time he’d get to have Anna to himself. “Let’s just hope there aren’t any dragons.”

  “Just those we brought with us,” she said wistfully.

  Then the lights went out.

  Dear Reader,

  This story has been in my heart for nearly a decade, since the first time I visited the beautiful island of Guam. I fell in love with the people there and the seeds of this story were sown. Mending the Doctor’s Heart is the story of Captain Anna Atao, a woman who must find the courage to forgive herself and find a way back to love.

  This book explores the depths of deep pain and sacrifice, against the backdrop of a paradise island decimated by natural disaster. I cried when I wrote Anna’s story and every time I’ve read it since. It’s a story to immerse yourself in, and the tears you shed will be worth it to see Anna complete her journey.

  To get free book extras, visit my website, sophiasasson.com. I love hearing from readers, so please find me on Twitter (@SophiaSasson) or Facebook (SophiaSassonAuthor) or email me at [email protected].

  Enjoy!

  Sophia

  Mending the Doctor’s Heart

  Sophia Sasson

  Sophia Sasson puts her childhood habit of daydreaming to good use by writing stories she hopes will give you hope and make you laugh, cry and possibly snort tea from your nose. She was born in Bombay, India, and has lived in the Canary Islands, Spain, and Toronto, Canada. Currently she calls the madness of Washington, DC, home. She’s the author of the Welcome to Bellhaven and the State of the Union series. She loves to read, travel to exotic locations in the name of research, bake, explore water sports and watch foreign movies. Hearing from readers makes her day. Contact her through sophiasasson.com.

  Books by Sophia Sasson

  Harlequin Heartwarming

  The Senator’s Daughter

  First Comes Marriage

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  To all the people who live on remote islands and preserve their natural beauty for us to enjoy.

  Acknowledgments

  This book and the entire State of the Union series would not happen without my awesome editor, Claire Caldwell.

  Most of all, thank you to my readers. Your reviews, emails and letters keep me writing.

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  EPILOGUE

  EXCERPT FROM A BAXTER’S REDEMPTION BY PATRICIA JOHNS

  CHAPTER ONE

  FIVE YEARS, TWENTY-SEVEN DAYS and ten hours since she left and swore never to return. Anna watched the swirls of aquamarine, green and royal blue surrounding the little patch of island she once called home. A tiny drop of land in the bucket of the great Pacific Ocean. At ten thousand feet, the view was breathtakingly beautiful, but as the helicopter dropped, the serene vision gave way to the carnage of broken buildings and debris-littered streets. She swallowed hard.

  Anna was the only passenger on board, so as soon as they touched down, she unbuckled, grabbed her duffel bag and hopped out. Her boots hit the muddy ground with a squelch. She pulled down the sunglasses parked on top of her head and raised her arm to shield her face from the stinging wind kicked up by the still-revolving helicopter rotors.

  This was the golf course where she and Nico were married. It looked far worse on the ground than it did from the air. The pristine green lawn with perfectly planned hills and flower beds was gone. Tree branches were everywhere, strewn about with random garbage. This is the least damaged part of the island? A crushing vise gripped her heart. Is Nico alive? She hadn’t been able to get through to their house on Tumon Bay; the landlines and cell towers were out.

  “Captain! You okay?”

  Anna turned to see the pilot carrying a box. He tilted his head toward the rest of the cargo, which he had unloaded from the helicopter and set on the ground. How long had she been standing there? She looked toward the medical camp. Tents were set a hundred feet from where she stood, their dull beige forlorn against the calm blue sky.

  Anna swung the duffel on her back, looping the handles around her shoulders so she could carry it like a backpack. Her arms protested as she lifted a heavy box. It had been more than a month since her last deployment, and her muscles were a little out of shape.

  She carried the box to a waiting staff member, then set down her bag and helped the pilot carry the rest of the supplies from the makeshift helipad. When they were down to the last box, the pilot stepped back into the cockpit, waving to her as he started the rotors.

  The helicopter rose and disappeared from view. There was no way off the island now; she was stuck here
. Again. The permanent ache in her heart gnawed at her.

  Picking up the remaining box, she walked back to the bright-faced staffer. His crisp uniform, regulation lined badges, and chipper hello told her it was his first deployment. She nodded to him and handed over the box.

  “Where do I report?”

  He pointed her to the medical command tent. She unzipped the outer pocket of her bag to remove her papers. As she entered the tent, her eye caught the big digital clock that hung from a wire. Forty-five hours and twenty-two minutes. That’s how long ago the tsunami had struck. It was also the clock that would determine when she could leave. Around the time it struck 168 hours, the actively wounded would slow to a trickle, mostly limited to those hurt as a result of the rescue efforts. When the red digits ticked to 381 hours, the rescue operation would be over and the focus would turn to recovering bodies. By then, plenty of relief organizations would crowd the small island with their staff outnumbering the injured. She’d be replaced by social workers who would stay here for months dealing with the mental trauma that would haunt people for generations to come.

  “Took you long enough to get here.”

  She whirled to come face-to-face with a woman dressed in blue scrubs. Rear Admiral Linda Tucker was Anna’s height, around five foot six, and had red hair streaked in spots to faded copper. Her face sagged with exhaustion but her gray eyes sparked as she surveyed Anna.

  The Public Health Service was a uniformed division but worked more like a health care service than a military unit, so Anna didn’t salute and was happy to note that her new supervisor was wearing scrubs. Some PHS field commanders insisted they wear their uniforms, which inevitably made the days uncomfortable. Yet despite this concession, she knew Linda Tucker’s reputation and braced herself.

  “I got here as soon as I could,” Anna replied evenly.

  “I expected you yesterday.”

  Anna had flown from Washington, DC—where she’d been visiting with her sister, Caro—to Japan, where she had to wait for the long-haul military transport helicopter to bring her to Guam. She’d been traveling for twenty-three hours and fifty-three minutes straight.

  Shrugging, she settled for a nonchalant. “I was delayed.” What she didn’t say was that she’d come close to being discharged from the PHS for defying orders to board the first transport to Guam. It had taken a call from the surgeon general’s assistant with a plea from the SG himself to get her on board. She was the only PHS officer who spoke Chamorro.

  “Well, get changed and meet me back here, we have a lot to do.” Dr. Tucker turned and bent over the newly arrived cardboard boxes, efficiently slicing through the tape. Anna handed her papers to the clerk, a young man with a pockmarked face who looked pained to be there.

  Anna scanned the tent while the clerk typed her details into the computer. The tent looked like every other medical command center she’d seen. Every available inch of space was being put to use. Corners were stacked with cardboard supply boxes, the center dominated by U-shaped desks cluttered with laptops and assorted materials. A large fan blew in fresh air from a makeshift window, but the heat was still oppressive. She ran her finger under her collar and twisted her neck, trying to get some air between her sticky skin and the wilted cloth of her once-starched khaki uniform. She scanned the faces in the room but quickly stopped and chided herself. Why would he be here? Nico would be out in the community, helping people defy the odds of survival. If he’s alive. Closing her eyes, Anna took a breath. She’d have to go to the house in Tumon Bay to check on him, find out for sure. From what she’d seen in the air, the roads weren’t passable by car, so she’d have to walk the five miles there. At her typical walking speed, she could do it in an hour and fifteen minutes, but given the condition of the terrain, she figured she’d have to budget at least four hours to get there and back.

  “I’ll show you to your tent. That way you can get changed while I process your paperwork,” the clerk said suddenly. Anna turned to see Dr. Tucker motioning to him to hurry things up.

  “I need you to get to work.” She bent over the boxes again before Anna could ask when she might be able to go check on Nico.

  Anna followed the fast-walking clerk out of the tent and down a narrow pathway. No matter where she went, the sounds of the aftermath of a disaster were always the same. Moans of people in pain, shuffling of fast-paced boots, generators and battery-powered machines rumbling to life, the smell of wet earth and the incessant buzzing of insects.

  Nico has to be okay. I’d know if he wasn’t. Wouldn’t I?

  The clerk led her to the tiny tent that would be her living quarters. She groaned inwardly at the paper sign in the plastic sleeve on the door-flap indicating she would be sharing the tent with Linda Tucker. So she wasn’t going to get a reprieve on this deployment.

  She changed quickly and found Admiral Tucker waiting for her outside the tent. She motioned for Anna to follow. “We don’t have enough wound care supplies or topical and IV antibiotics, so we need to ration them. I understand this isn’t your first deployment?”

  “No, ma’am, I’ve been through twenty deployments in five years. My last one was in Brazil for the Zika virus after I returned from Liberia, where I was dealing with the Ebola outbreak.”

  The rear admiral’s eyes widened with respect. “Good, then I don’t have to orient you. Feel free to call me Linda.” She continued her brisk pace, weaving through the narrow gaps between tents, dodging pieces of machinery and carts carrying supply boxes from one tent to another.

  “The locals are just now mobilizing, so we get about ten new patients an hour. Tent space is at a premium. Anyone who doesn’t need to be monitored gets sent to the high school, mall or the hospital, where they’ve set up shelters.”

  Anna’s throat closed. “Is the hospital operational?” she choked out. The last time she’d been at the Guam General Hospital, she’d lost everything she ever loved. She hadn’t used her pediatrics training since then, staying as far away from children as she could.

  Linda shook her head. “Not as a medical facility, but the building is still standing so they’re using the space to house people.” Linda slowed and turned to make sure Anna had heard her.

  “A local stopped by a few hours ago to say someone’s managed to set up a field hospital in one of the newer buildings. A local physician is helping them, but they have over a hundred people there. If we get through our current patients, I’d like you to go. They can’t get those patients to this side of the island.”

  Anna nodded. It would give her a chance to go to Nico’s house, her old house, and make sure he was okay. “Did they tell you where on the island?”

  “Talofofo. It’s on the Pacific side, so I’m not sure how well it fared.”

  A brick fell through Anna’s stomach. Talofofo. That’s where Nico had bought land. Right after they’d buried Lucas, the piece of herself that would forever be in Guam. Nico had tried to convince her it was the way to heal, a desperate attempt to get her to stay. What happened to his plans? Had they washed away like the rest of their life together?

  “Dr. Tucker, I have a request.” Before she could continue, Linda stopped abruptly and Anna almost bumped into her. One of the patients had come out of a tent screaming at her.

  “I’m going to die!” A man scarcely over five feet tall stood in front of Linda, his chest puffed out.

  “Sir!” Linda’s voice was firm and laced with annoyance. “I’ve told you already—you’re not getting pain medication, so stop the racket.”

  Linda turned to her. “He’s yours. Sixty-some-year-old male, leg laceration, five stitches, prior undiagnosed first-degree heart block. He’s been having arrhythmias, which is why he’s still here. Not even close to the worst of the wounded.”

  Anna took in the broad, wrinkled forehead, the firm purse of the man’s lips, the gray in his hair and the slight stoop
to his back. He was an elder, a man used to getting what he wanted. She stepped up to him and bowed slightly, making her frame smaller so she wouldn’t tower over him, then spoke softly in Chamorro. “We don’t have supplies, the hospital is damaged, we’re saving the pills for people who are badly hurt.”

  The patient nodded, thanked her, then went back to the tent.

  Linda shook her head. “He speaks English. I heard him talking to the others. These people!”

  Anna bristled. “He needed to know that you weren’t making a judgment call in denying him pills. People here understand shortages and rationing...” She muttered under her breath, “They understand it all too well.”

  Linda pressed her lips together tightly, and Anna reminded herself that the woman was a superior officer. While Anna wasn’t interested in climbing the career ladder, she had to work and live with Linda for the foreseeable future, and she still had to ask her for a favor.

  “He should be grateful we’re here to help him,” Linda said irritably. “But I’m glad you speak Chamorro. Follow me—I think I’ll put you in this tent.”

  Anna opened her mouth, then shut it. Linda had already resumed her purposeful walk. Most of the doctors she worked with didn’t appreciate the local cultures. They were adrenaline junkies who went into deployment to feed their hero complexes and left with little understanding of the place. They were dispassionate about the very people they supposedly came to serve. While people like Linda annoyed her, at some level Anna understood the need for emotional distance from the patients they were serving. She had come to Guam and ingrained herself in the community. If she’d treated her time here for what it was, a temporary medical rotation, she never would have married Nico, never would have had Lucas.

  Linda went through the open doorway of one of the tents, talking as she went. Anna pushed her attention to Linda. She needed to stop thinking about her past and snap into the present. This could be Liberia, or Sri Lanka, or Thailand. The tents all looked the same, the misery around her was no different. Pretend you’re not in Guam.