She was the only Jama, though.

Jama reached up and touched her ear and said, “Ruth.”

“What?”

Jama looked at him and indicated the Bluetooth earpiece. “I’m calling my director. I set up the voice recognition while we were at the hospital. Amy and I used to wear ours all the time at the hospital, even when they weren’t on. It kept people from thinking we were crazy when we talked to ourselves.”

“You did that a lot, huh?”

“Sure. We were residents, always memorizing and studying procedures, anatomy, medications and dosages. It was tough, but-” She broke off, then said, “Yes, Ruth? It’s Jama. I’m on my way back to River Dance. Will you need-”

She paused, grimaced. “Okay, I’ll see you in about twenty minutes. Maybe thirty. I need to drop Tyrell off in town to pick up his mother’s car.”

Again, the grimace.

Jama disconnected, than glanced at Tyrell. “You know, you got me into this.”

“Me? What did I do?”

“This loan from the town of River Dance was your idea.”

“It was a good one,” he said. “You needed the loan, and you wouldn’t take it from Mom and Dad. You’re so independent. Admit it, Jama, you shot yourself in the foot when you disappeared for six months with no explanation about where you had gone. I’m surprised you weren’t penalized for defaulting on your other school loans.”

“I got an extension. The loan company knew I wasn’t defaulting. The counselor knew I was recovering from the accident.”

“Yes, but when you disappeared from the face of the earth-”

“We all grieve differently. The loan companies didn’t need a play-by-play of my life. It wasn’t anyone’s business.”

“Not anyone’s business? You might have considered your worried family.”

“I told Monty and Fran I’d be okay. They trusted me to take care of myself.”

“You think they didn’t worry anyway?”

Jama gave him a “back off” look.

Tyrell resisted the strong urge to ask where she’d gone. Later, maybe, she would tell him.

“So what’s the deal with your director?” he asked. “She did seem a little put out with you this morning for leaving.”

Jama rolled her eyes. “She’s already judged me and found me wanting because our gossiping mayor filled her in on some of my…activities in high school.”

“You’ll prove to her soon enough that you’re not that kid anymore.”

“That’s one of the reasons I’ve dreaded coming back home. I’m tired of having to prove myself. She’s a grump.”

“Give it some time. Some of the grumpiest people turn out to be okay once you get to know them.”

“That’s what I’ve heard, but I’ve never actually seen proof.”

“So tell me about what just happened.”

Jama shook her head. “She’s not angry, she’s just cold. The clinic is currently swamped because of a fire at the winery. Several employees were brought to the clinic for treatment instead of being sent to Fulton or Jefferson City, and I’m not there to help. I might expect some anger, but there was nothing, just the demand I return to the clinic immediately.”

“Then you need to go straight there. Maybe you could use my help until it gets sorted out. I still have my paramedic license up-to-date. I can triage.”

“You have crops to save.”

“What’s more important, crops or people?”

“Maybe I should get there and see what’s needed first. It wouldn’t hurt Ruth to cancel interviews for the rest of the day and see to the injuries. Let’s hope she has her priorities straight.”

“Put yourself in her place. She’s a stranger in a town full of people she doesn’t know.”

“I’ll give it some thought.”

He studied the fine, tense features of Jama’s exquisite face. “Sweetheart.”

She looked at him. He lost himself for a brief moment in the depths of those beautiful blue-green eyes.

“Give Ruth some time.”

“I will.” She returned her attention to the road, but a faint flush turned her cheeks an alluring shade of pink.

“More than a day,” he said.

“Of course.”

“And give yourself some time, too. You’ve never done well with that. You’re always so impatient with yourself. I happen to know everyone in River Dance will welcome you with open arms.”

She glanced at him again, her eyes reflecting mild humor…and another emotion. Affection. More than affection. “I get it, Tyrell. Okay? Don’t worry about me. We have a lot more important things to think about today.”

How well he knew what they had to think about. He reached across the console and touched her arm, felt the smooth silk of her skin. He felt goose bumps form beneath his touch, and he enjoyed that connection.

Maybe he was being selfish-he needed the comfort of her touch as much as he needed her presence right now. He couldn’t help believing his presence-his touch-might also lend her comfort. Encouragement. A reassurance of his love.

“You’ll call me if I can be of help at the clinic?” he asked as she turned onto River Dance Road.

“I’ll call. Promise.”

Jama dropped Tyrell off at the grocery store to pick up Fran’s car, her senses still tingling from the touch of his hand. He had no idea what he did to her.

Did he?

The moment she walked into the clinic, she regretted dismissing his help so quickly. The smell of smoke hung in the air. Eight people huddled in the waiting room, where it seemed everyone was talking at once.

Down the hallway, Zelda Benedict rushed from one treatment room to another, still in her jogging clothes.

Ruth Lawrence stepped out of a room and caught sight of Jama. “You’re here in time to suture a wrist. We’ve got a smoke inhalation in three.” She pointed across the hallway to the room Zelda had just entered. “There are more to be seen, and more are probably on their way.”

“Any that are life threatening?”

Ruth shook her head.

“If we need more help, I know a good paramedic.”

Ruth’s eyebrows rose. “In this town?” She said it as if she couldn’t imagine such a thing.

“Tyrell Mercer supported himself through school as a paramedic, and he still takes a shift from time to time to keep his skills sharp.”

“Good. We’ll call him if we need him.” Ruth nodded toward the four men and two women hunched together near the unmanned reception desk. All six pairs of eyes watched Jama.

She recognized several former classmates, including Jim Hammersmith, who’d been a couple of years ahead of her in school. She nodded to him, and he stood up. “Did you hear about the fire, Jama? A little gas heater we had in the storeroom exploded. Caught a couple of crates on fire, spread to a bunch of wrapping paper, and whoosh! It was an inferno in that place.”

“Everybody’s coming here, though, right?” she asked. “No one was sent on to a hospital by ambulance?”

“Naw, everybody’s coming to the clinic. I’m a little worried about Scotty. He fell into a stack of bottles trying to get out, and cut his wrist pretty badly.”

Scott Hammersmith. Jim’s little brother. Jama frowned. He’d been in her class at school, and he’d had a crush on her forever-at least it had felt that way.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of him,” Jama said.

Jim’s eyebrows reached for his hairline. The others seemed to grow more interested.

“You’re the one who’s gonna sew on him?” Jim asked.

“My handiwork’s pretty good, and we’ll have him numbed up so he won’t feel a thing.” She’d expected to encounter these misgivings from a few of the people who’d known her in school. It had to be a little uncomfortable to think that the girl who’d been sent to the principal’s office more than once for sassing a teacher might now have a sharp needle in her hand.

Merilee Jacobs, who’d grown a bit more chunky, with lank brown hair, cleared her throat. “You know, Jama Sue, you weren’t the best at sewing in school.”

And then, of course, there was that. “I wasn’t sewing on people then, Merilee, and I’m not using one of the old sewing machines. I’ve learned a few things since high school.” Jama shot a glance at the others on her way to the treatment room, and felt as if she’d stepped back into a time warp.