"G," Cole's tone cautioned his grandmother not to say something that could be construed argumentative.

"You won't be paying anything," Nika pointed out, opening the woman's chart. "You have Medicare and a supplementary secondary carrier. They're the ones who'll take care of the bill."

"Yes, well, it's the principle of the thing that matters," Ericka said, her voice trailing off slightly as she seemed to lose momentum.

"How long will it take?" Cole asked, turning his attention to her.

"The surgery?" Nika repeated, guessing what his question referred to. "Most ablations usually run about-"

"No, the tests," he interrupted before she could finish. "How long before you know if she can have the surgery? The last attack she had was pretty bad. It lasted over two hours."

"Tattletale," Ericka accused with an annoyed pout.

Their roles, it occurred to Cole, had somehow gotten reversed and now he was the parent and she the child. He wasn't used to this.

Nika glanced toward the woman in the bed. A hundred fifty years ago, Ericka Baker would have been viewed as the perfect prototype for a robust, determined pioneer woman. Pioneer women didn't have time to be sick. It got in their way and annoyed them.

"She doesn't like the way those palpitations have been restricting her activities." It was an educated guess on Nika's part.

He shook his head. "Not a h.e.l.l of a whole lot, no. Would you?" he challenged.

"No, I wouldn't," she said honestly. "We should have everything back tomorrow, noon."

"That long?"

Gauging the duration was all in the eyes of the beholder. Nika laughed. "There was a time when a simple appendectomy kept a patient in the hospital for two weeks," she told him. "In comparison, this is pretty fast and streamlined."

She could see that her answer didn't satisfy him. Hard man to please, she thought. But he wasn't her concern. His grandmother was. "I'll call in a favor and we'll b.u.mp you up to the head of the line," she promised Ericka. "It's the least I can do, seeing as how your grandson rescued me."

Ericka nodded again, somewhat placated. "Sounds only fair," she agreed, glancing toward Cole.

Time for him to go, Nika thought, even though there was something about his presence that was oddly unsettling and yet exciting at the same time. Neither had a place within the framework of her duties.

"And now, Detective, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to make yourself scarce," she told him.

Not that he planned on staying any longer-the meeting was swiftly breathing down his neck-but having this snippet of a doctor push him out of the room like this raised red flags for him.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I'm going to have to examine your grandmother now," she told him patiently, "and I think it would be more comfortable for her if you respectfully waited just outside the door."

He looked at his grandmother and then quickly looked away. It was hard to say if he was more embarra.s.sed for himself, or for the older woman.

"Oh, yeah, well-" Heat rose up along his neck, causing it to turn an unnatural shade of reddish-pink. He was already at the door, turning the doork.n.o.b. "I'll come by after my shift, G." He tossed the words over his shoulder, along with one last quick glance.

"Unless some pretty girl nabs you," Ericka qualified, raising her voice to be heard.

He paused, shaking his head. The woman was always trying to get him to pair up with someone. "Not likely," he told her. "See you tonight," he added quickly, stepping outside the room.

And then he turned around to see if his grandmother's doctor was behind him. She was.

"Doctor, here's my card." He thrust the small, white card with its dramatic black lettering at her. "Call me if something goes wrong." It wasn't a request but an order. "You can reach me at the last number on the bottom anytime." He tapped it with his forefinger. "Anytime, night or day," he emphasized.

Nika slipped out of the room for a moment, easing the door closed behind her. It touched her that he was so concerned. Looking at him, at his chiseled features and the hard set of his mouth, she would have said that he didn't particularly care deeply about anyone-including himself. There was nothing soft about him, nothing vulnerable to indicate intense concern on any level.

Just went to show that you definitely couldn't judge a book by its cover, she told herself. Not even after the first few pages were glimpsed.

Her hand closed over the card he'd offered her and she tucked it into her pocket.

"I won't have to use it," she a.s.sured him kindly. "Your grandmother strikes me as a woman who can more than meet any kind of curve that life has to throw at her and come out smiling."

"She used to be," he acknowledged and a strain of sadness, which he couldn't quite cover, echoed in his voice. "But that was before she got this old."

Nika had known her patient for a total of less than five minutes so far, but some things she could just instinctively sense from the very beginning.

"I wouldn't let your grandmother hear you say that if I were you," Nika advised. "Otherwise, you're going to have to be sleeping with one eye open for the rest of your life."

It wouldn't be the first time he'd had to sleep lightly, he thought, thinking back to some of the undercover cases he'd worked. But he saw no reason to say anything about that to this woman. This wasn't about him, it was about his grandmother. About keeping her well and thriving the way she always had been.

"Keep the card anyway," he told her. "Just in case. It'll make both of us feel better."

"Us?" she questioned uncertainly.

"My grandmother and me."

"Oh. Of course." What was she thinking? Why in heaven's name would the man be making a reference to the two of them as "us"? Of course he was referring to himself and his grandmother.

That stretch in the elevator addled you more than you're willing to admit, Nika, she upbraided herself. Get a grip.

Nika rallied, pushing on, as the detective, satisfied that he'd made himself clear, started to leave. "And don't forget to give me your bill," she called after him.

He didn't bother turning around or answering her. He just kept walking.

"Um, Nika, I don't know if anyone's explained this to you, but eventually, we're supposed to be charging them for our services, not the other way around," an amused female voice said behind her.

Turning around, Nika saw that she'd guessed right. Her older sister-older only by eleven months-stood behind her. It was amazing, though, how much Alyx sounded like Sasha, her oldest cousin and the very first Dr. Pulaski to come to this hospital.

"Alyx, what are you doing here?" Nika asked. And even as she formed the words, the answer came to her and her whole countenance lit up. "Did they send you here to help me?" She tried to recall if Alyx had mentioned anything about having the flu. She couldn't remember.

"No, I snuck up here as soon as I heard. I wanted to make sure you were okay." Alyx's eyes washed over her quickly, taking inventory of every limb.

"Heard? Heard what?"

"Someone in the E.R. told me that there was a resident stuck in an elevator in between floors," Alyx told her.

Nika looked at her, a little surprised. "And you immediately thought of me?" she questioned, then pointed out the obvious before her sister could answer. "Alyx, I'm not the only resident that this hospital has."

Alyx raised her slender shoulders. "What can I tell you? Some of Mama's paranoia rubbed off on me." She looked down at a particularly dark streak of dirt on her sister's lab coat. It was all the evidence that was needed. "It was you, wasn't it?"

"Busted." Nika laughed. She was already moving away. "But I don't have time to talk about it right now. I have a patient to get back to." One of many, she added silently. Nika nodded toward Ericka's door. "I'll tell you all about it tonight, I promise. Call me when you're free. If you're free," she qualified, thinking of the very handsome policeman her sister had introduced her to when she'd arrived. The policeman who had arrested Alyx's heart and placed it behind bars for all eternity. Alyx was going to be the first of them to get married, Nikka thought, with a little mistiness tugging at her soul.

"And you'll start by explaining what you're offering that somber-looking hunk money for?" Alyx asked, still standing where she was.

"A clean breast of everything," Nika promised, crossing her heart with her forefinger.

Not knowing the whole story immediately, she could see, was all but killing her older sister. Alyx had always been insatiable when it came to her curiosity. She always had to know everything about everything.

"It's not nearly as exciting as you think," was the only crumb she had time to toss her sister before she hurried back into Ericka Baker's room.

"About time you came back," Ericka said, her eyes narrowing as she looked at her doctor. "I thought maybe you decided to run off with my grandson."

Nika flashed a smile at the woman as she took her stethoscope out of her pocket. "Sorry to disappoint you, no running off."

"I'm not the one who's disappointed," Ericka informed her with conviction.

"Oh? And just who would be the one who's disappointed?" Nika asked, humoring the woman.

Ericka didn't answer her. Instead, the elderly woman merely watched her intently, her message silently conveyed.

And then, sitting up straighter, Ericka announced, "Let's get this show on the road already," and began to unb.u.t.ton the top of her nightgown-she'd brought her own, no doubt refusing to be caught dead in the one that the hospital issued.

"Not so fast, Mrs. Baker," Nika cautioned, placing her hand over her patient's to stop the older woman from disrobing. "There's a little matter of a history and physical to get out of the way first."

Ericka seemed somewhat annoyed and very impatient. "Nothing's changed since I saw my doctor two days ago," the woman told her.

"That might be true," Nika agreed, humoring her, "but I need to acquaint myself with you and I've never taken down your history before."

Very slowly, a smile of approval slipped over the older woman's lips. "Believe in crossing your t's and dotting your i's, do you?"

"Every time," Nika told her.

"Not a bad quality, I guess." She didn't quite succeed in sounding indifferent. Ericka eyed the physician's left hand. "You married?"

She thought of her mother, who had been crusading for each of her daughters to get married since Alyx turned twenty. She was desperate to be a grandmother-and have more grandchildren than Uncle Josef and Aunt Magda. "No, I'm not."

"Planning to be?" Mrs. Baker prodded, watching her carefully as she answered.

"Someday, yes." But that someday was a long way in the future, Nika added silently. She wanted to get a practice going, wanted to do things that really mattered first. If marriage was in the cards for her, it would happen. But there was enough time to worry about that later.

Ericka c.o.c.ked her head, still looking at her closely, her expression saying that she was confident she could detect a lie if she heard one. "So there's no one important in your life right now?"

"You, Mrs. Baker," Nika told her warmly as she prepared to take the woman's blood pressure. "You're important in my life."

Ericka frowned. "Is that your hokey way of telling me that you're dedicated?"

"You might say that," Nika allowed with a laugh. "It's also a 'hokey' way of saying that I care about my patients. Every one of them. And since you're one of my patients..."

Ericka nodded her head, holding up her hand to keep her doctor from continuing. "I get it. You care about me. Well, if you do, it's nice to know. Now," the old woman instructed as she braced herself and raised her chin, "do your worst."

"What I plan to do, Mrs. Baker," Nika told her gently, "is my very best."

Ericka's head bobbed curtly. "I'll let you know if you succeed."

Nika pressed her lips together. She'd come to learn that patients didn't like it when you laughed at what they said, unless they were intentionally trying to be funny. "I'm counting on it," she told the woman.

Chapter 4.

Nika frowned as she appraised the upper and lower numbers on the blood pressure gauge in her hand. They weren't what she wanted them to be, especially since the woman in the bed was on blood pressure medication.

"It's a little high," she told Ericka as she deflated the cuff. Pausing to make a quick notation of the reading on the woman's chart, Nika swiftly unwrapped the cuff from the thin arm.

Ericka waved away the note of concern. "Of course it's high. My new doctor kept me waiting. I got aggravated."

Nika looked at her. She knew the woman knew better than that. "That wouldn't have caused your blood pressure to elevate like that unless you were waiting for me in a yard full of pit bulls." She tucked the cuff away. "I'd like to see that come down a little bit before we finally whisk you off for surgery."

Ericka made a noise that sounded very much like a snort. "You forfeited the 'whisking' part by making me take all these tests you're talking about first."

Nika placed a placating hand on top of one of the woman's blue-veined hands and said gently, "Mrs. Baker, the object here is to make you well, not to see how fast we can get you in and out of the hospital. We don't take chances with our patients' lives here."

Ericka looked at her for a long moment, as if a.s.sessing the genuineness of the statement. And then her sharper features melted into a softer expression as she smiled.

"Call me G," she urged.

Nika c.o.c.ked her head. She'd heard the detective refer to the woman that way. Was it her middle initial, or the first letter of some kind of nickname?

"G?" Nika repeated, an unspoken question in her voice.

The platinum-blond head nodded. "That's what I told Coleman to call me when he first came to live with me. I hated the way Grandmother sounded. Still do. Makes me think of some old, bent-over woman, shuffling around in sensible shoes, her white hair pulled back in a bun at the nape of her neck." Finished with her description, Ericka shivered.

"No worries," Nika told her with a laugh. "That certainly doesn't begin to describe you. I thought the computer made a mistake when I looked down at your chart earlier. If ever a woman didn't look anywhere close to eighty-four, it's you."

Ericka positively beamed. "You know, you just might have become my new best friend after all," the older woman told her.

"I'll settle for being the doctor who makes you feel well enough to go home, Mrs.- G." About to use the woman's last name, Nika corrected herself at the last moment.

"Fair enough," Ericka declared. "Continue," she urged, indicating that she was ready to endure the rest of the physical.

Nika suppressed her smile and did as she was "bidden."

She had just finished the feisty woman's exam and was carefully entering the last of her notes on the chart when the sound jolted her. Piercing the late morning air, the alarm sounded a great deal like an air raid siren used in one of those old movies depicting Europe during World War II.