She knew from experience he wasn’t afraid to break anything that got in the way of what he wanted. She just had to make sure one of those “things” wasn’t her heart.

JESSI HAD JUST finished suturing an elbow laceration and was headed in to pick up her next chart when a cry of pain came from the double bay doors of the emergency entrance.

“Ow! It hurts!”

A man holding a little girl in his arms lurched into the waiting area, his face as white as the linoleum flooring beneath his feet. The child’s frilly pink party dress had a smear of dirt along one side of it, as did her arm and one side of her face. That had Jessi moving toward the pair. The other cases in the waiting room at the moment were minor illnesses and injuries.

The man’s wild eyes latched on to her, taking in the stethoscope around her neck. “Are you a doctor?”

“Yes. How can I help?”

“We were at a … She fell …” The words tumbled out of his mouth, nothing making sense. Especially since the girl’s pained cries were making the already stricken expression on his face even worse.

She tried to steer him in the right direction. “She fell. Is this your daughter?”

“Yes. She fell off a trampoline at a friend’s house. It’s her leg.”

Like with many fun things about childhood—climbing trees, swimming in the lake, riding a bike—danger lurked around every corner, ready to strike.

Jessi brushed a mass of blond curls off the girl’s damp face and spoke to her. “What’s your name?”

“Tammy,” she said between sobs.

She maintained eye contact with her little charge. “Tammy, I know your leg must hurt terribly. We’re going to take you back and help fix it.” She motioned to one of the nurses behind the admission’s desk. Gina immediately came toward them with a clipboard.

The girl nodded, the volume of her cries going down a notch.

“Let’s take her into one of the exam rooms, while Nurse Stanley gets some information.”

It wasn’t standard protocol—they were supposed to register all admissions unless there was a life-threatening injury—but right now Jessi wanted to take away not only the child’s pain but the father’s, as well.

Maybe Clint wasn’t the only one who knew how to break a few rules.

But she had to. She recognized that look of utter terror and helplessness on the dad’s face. She’d felt the same paralyzing fear as she’d crouched in the bathtub with her daughter, blood pouring out of Chelsea’s veins. She’d sent out that same cry for help. To God. To the universe. To anyone who would listen.

And like the distraught father following her to a treatment room, she’d been forced to place her child in the hands of a trained professional and pray they could fix whatever was wrong. Because it was something beyond her own capabilities.

But what if it was also beyond the abilities of the people you entrusted them to?

Raw fear pumped back into her chest, making her lungs ache.

Stop it.

She banished Clint and Chelsea from her thoughts and concentrated on her job. This little girl needed her, and she had to have her head in the game if she wanted to help her.

“Which leg is it?” she asked the father.

“Her right. It’s her shin.”

“Did she fall on the ground? Or which part of the trampoline?”

She asked question after question, gathering as much information as she could in order to narrow the steps she’d need to take to determine the exact nature of the injury.

Gina followed them into the room and was already writing furiously, even though the nurse hadn’t voiced a single question. That could come later.

“Set her on the table.”

As soon as cold metal touched the girl’s leg, she let out an ear-piercing shriek that quickly melted back into sobs.

As a mother, it wrenched at her heart, but Jessi couldn’t let any of that affect what she did next. Things would get worse for Tammy before they got better, because Jessi had to make sure she knew what she was dealing with.

“Gina, can you stay and get the rest of the information from Mr …?” She paused and glanced at the girl’s father.

“Lawrence. Jack Lawrence.”