Winds of Fortune (Provincetown Tales Book 5) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Synopsis

  By the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  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

  About the Author

  Books Available From Bold Strokes Books

  Winds of Fortune

  The winds of fortune are fickle guides…and happiness or heartbreak may be the destination. For Provincetown local Deo Camara, the only winds that have ever blown her way have been cold and lonely, and she doesn't expect things to improve when she is drawn into a family crisis against her will. Despite a decade of estrangement, however, Deo can't turn her back on the call of blood, no matter how high the price in heartache. Dr. Bonita Burgoyne is pleased with the changes she's made in her life…she has a rewarding new job and is looking forward to renovating the historic sea captain's house she has just purchased. She's content, and that's all she needs to be, or so she thinks until she hires Deo to head up the renovations. They have nothing in common except a shared legacy of betrayal by those they'd trusted the most, and an impossible attraction they would both prefer to ignore. Meanwhile, Bonita's new associate Dr. Tory King and her partner, Reese Conlon, must cero with the aftermath of the winds of war and the approaching fury of a very real gathering storm.

  The fifth in the Lambda Literary Award-winning Provincetown Tales.

  Winds of Fortune

  Brought to you by

  E-Books from Bold Strokes Books, Inc.

  http://www.boldstrokesbooks.com

  eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  Please respect the rights of the author and do not file share.

  Winds of Fortune

  © 2007 By Radclyffe. All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-60282-246-7

  This Electronic Book is published by

  Bold Strokes Books, Inc.,

  P.O. Box 249

  Valley Falls, New York 12185

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First Edition: October 2007

  This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

  Credits

  Editors: Ruth Sternglantz and J.B. Greystone

  Production Design: J.B. Greystone

  Cover Design By Sheri ([email protected])

  By the Author

  Romances

  Innocent Hearts

  Love’s Melody Lost

  Love’s Tender Warriors

  Tomorrow’s Promise

  Love’s Masquerade

  shadowland

  Fated Love

  Turn Back Time

  Promising Hearts

  When Dreams Tremble

  The Lonely Hearts Club

  Night Call

  Secrets in the Stone

  The Provincetown Tales

  Safe Harbor

  Beyond the Breakwater

  Distant Shores, Silent Thunder

  Storms of Change

  Winds of Fortune

  Honor Series

  Above All, Honor

  Honor Bound

  Love & Honor

  Honor Guards

  Honor Reclaimed

  Honor Under Siege

  Word of Honor

  Justice Series

  A Matter of Trust (prequel)

  Shield of Justice

  In Pursuit of Justice

  Justice in the Shadows

  Justice Served

  Justice For All

  Erotic Interludes: Change of Pace

  (A Short Story Collection)

  Radical Encounters

  (A Erotic Short Story Collection)

  Stacia Seaman and Radclyffe, eds.

  Erotic Interludes 2: Stolen Moments

  Erotic Interludes 3: Lessons in Love

  Erotic Interludes 4: Extreme Passions

  Erotic Interludes 5: Road Games

  Romantic Interludes 1: Discovery

  Acknowledgements

  As I complete the final edits of this work, I am fortunate to be staying in the seaside village that is as much a character in these stories as the people who populate the novels. The harbor at sunrise, the sounds of the ocean, and the spirit of those adventurers and artists who have come before never fail to inspire me. I’m sure I have not yet captured more than a glimpse of the beauty, grace, and history that is Provincetown, but it continues to be my very great pleasure to try.

  My thanks go to my first readers Diane, Eva, Jane, Paula, and RB, as well as to my editors, Ruth Sternglantz and J.B. Greystone, and the generous proofreaders at Bold Strokes Books for making this a better book. All the credit goes to these dedicated individuals and the responsibility for any shortcomings to me.

  Thanks also to Sheri for yet another standout cover.

  To Lee, for sharing the adventure. Amo te.

  Dedication

  For Lee

  For weathering every storm

  Chapter One

  Dr. Victoria King dropped a chart on top of the eight inch stack on her desk and checked her watch. Ten minutes to two. God, she was going to be late for her own daughter’s first birthday party.

  “Why don’t you get out of here,” a voice said from behind her.

  Spinning around, Tory smiled at the trim African-American woman in a white lab coat who stood in her office doorway. Like Tory, her new associate, Dr. Nita Burgoyne, was dressed casually, but in contrast to Tory’s pressed jeans and boatneck navy cotton tee, Nita’s stylish emerald green blouse, sand colored slacks, and tan sling-back, low-heeled shoes hinted at designer labels. She hadn’t quite made the transition from big city ER doctor to small town doc just yet.

  “You’ve been here, what—five weeks,” Tory said, “and already you’re reading my mind?”

  “Didn’t take telepathy.” When Nita shook her head, the gold clasp she used to restrain her shoulder-length, wavy black hair at her nape glinted in the overhead lights, echoing the amusement that shimmered in her deep brown eyes. “I could hear your thoughts out in the hallway.”

  “Well, I’m glad I didn’t finish what I was thinking, then.” Tory grimaced. “How many more do we have?”

  “Not enough for you to worry about.” Nita lifted a shoulder in the direction of the hallway behind her. “Now go while the coast is relatively clear.”

  Tory hesitated, torn between wanting to be with her family and knowing she was needed at the clinic. During tourist season, the East End Health Clinic was open seven days a week, and patient hours often stretched well beyond the scheduled times. Here emergenci
es were the norm, rather than the exception. Minor accidents, fender benders, forgotten medication, common colds, and more serious events ranging from heart attacks to strokes were daily fare. It might be quiet right this minute, but chances were it wouldn’t be for long—not on Sunday afternoon of Fourth of July weekend in Provincetown—and Nita hadn’t worked a holiday alone yet.

  “I’m not some green intern,” Nita chided good-naturedly, obviously continuing to read Tory’s mind despite her earlier denial. “Sally is the best nurse I’ve ever worked with and better than a lot of the doctors I’ve known. We’ll be fine.”

  Tory considered arguing, but she could tell by the set of Nita’s slender shoulders that her mind was made up. She had learned very quickly that in Nita’s case, looks were very definitely deceiving. Although Nita’s dark almond eyes, sculpted features, and smooth coffee-and-cream complexion gave her a look of exotic, nearly delicate beauty, she was neither delicate nor insubstantial in any way. Ten years Tory’s junior, she was a self-assured, highly capable professional, and wonderful with the patients. Even though she was personally reserved and rarely talked about her private life, her genuine warmth and compassion were obvious, and Tory liked her.

  “You’ll call me if things get busy?” Tory asked.

  Nita folded her arms beneath her breasts and pursed her lips.

  “Okay. Okay.” Tory held up both hands in surrender. “Will you at least stop by the party later? We’ll have plenty of food and the adults will out-number the kids, I promise.”

  When Nita looked uncertain, Tory felt a surge of guilt. As far as she knew, Nita had yet to really meet anyone in the community outside of patients and the office staff. Part of that was Tory’s fault. She should have had a welcoming reception for her when she joined the practice, and what she’d greeted her with instead was a crisis. Nita had only been with her a few days before Reese had been reported missing in action in Iraq. With her lover probably wounded or possibly dead, Tory had barely managed to keep her sanity and had foisted all but the major responsibilities of the clinic onto Nita. Everything else had fallen by the wayside. Even now, though she tried not to let it show, Tory still felt as if her life was on shaky ground.

  “It’ll just be some good friends and family,” Tory urged.

  Finally, Nita nodded, hiding her reluctance behind a smile. A child’s birthday would be harmless, and she only needed to make a brief appearance. “Thank you. That would be nice.”

  “Good. Then I’ll just finish up these chart—”

  “Tory! Get!”

  Laughing, Tory shrugged out of her lab coat and tossed it onto the high backed leather chair behind her overflowing desk. “I’m gone.”

  Just as Tory stepped out into the hall, their receptionist rushed in from the waiting area and skidded to a halt beside her. Lithe and handsome, Randy’s blond hair was uncharacteristically mussed and his big blue eyes were overly bright.

  “Sorry,” he said breathlessly, looking from Tory to Nita and back again, “but Deo Camara just brought Joey Torres in, and he’s bleeding all over the waiting room. Sally’s putting them in the procedure room.”

  “What happened?” Tory inquired sharply, turning back into her office for her lab coat. If Randy was ruffled it must be serious, because he could simultaneously handle five emergency calls, three hysterical mothers, and a recalcitrant insurance rep without breaking a sweat.

  “Deo said something about a saw.”

  “Thanks, Randy,” Nita said calmly. “Why don’t you get the waiting room cleaned up and let the other patients know there might be a little bit of a wait.”

  “Okay, right.” As quickly as he had appeared, Randy was gone.

  “I’ve got this, Tory,” Nita said.

  Tory drew up short, one arm in and one out of her lab coat. Nita was a board-certified emergency room physician. She was trained to handle anything that might come through the door. Rationally, Tory knew that. Still, it was hard to leave. She had hired on temporary help before, but Nita was the first physician she had contracted for a possible long-term association. The only partner she had ever considered had been KT O’Bannon, the woman she had once considered the love of her life. But KT had left her with a broken heart and broken dreams. Then Reese Conlon had come along and mended her heart, but until now she’d never really considered sharing her professional life with anyone else.

  “You might need an assistant,” Tory pointed out.

  “If it’s that bad, the repair will need to be done in the OR and we’ll transport him to Hyannis. Otherwise, Sally can help me. Now I’d better get in there—and you have a party to go to.”

  Nita disappeared down the hallway. Tory could either follow her, making a clear statement that she didn’t trust her to handle the problem alone, or she could go home where the people who loved her were waiting.

  She hung her lab coat on a hook behind her door, and with one last glance down the hall toward the patient rooms, she left.

  *

  Nita pushed through the door into the procedure room and stopped short at the incongruous sound of laughter. Their clinic nurse, Sally, stood at the counter on the far side of the room setting up an instrument tray. Two young men in khaki work clothes and dusty boots, one seated on the stretcher and the other leaning against it, faced away from the door toward the petite blond nurse. Apparently no one heard her enter because the revelry continued.

  “We need to make sure this gets fixed up right,” remarked the deeply tanned, curly haired Adonis who nudged the shoulder of a similarly handsome man whose right hand was wrapped in a bloody towel. “Otherwise, Joey’s sex life is going straight down the toi—”

  “Oh I don’t know,” Sally laughed as she laid out gloves and irrigation solution, “it doesn’t look like any of Joey’s critical equipment is in danger.”

  “That’s just the problem, he needs that hand to take care of his main business,” the Adonis smirked.

  “Come on, Deo,” Joey said, “I’m in pain here.” He glanced over his buddy’s shoulder and, spying Nita, instantly looked chagrined. “Besides, there’s a lady present.”

  “Oh, well, excuse me,” Sally said archly, rolling the metal instrument stand up to the table. “Now you two decide to get some manners?” She waved to Nita. “We’re all ready for you.”

  “Thanks.” Nita crossed the room briskly. “I’m Dr. Burgoyne. What happened?”

  “Joey here picked a fight with a table saw and lost,” the uninjured member of the pair replied, turning in Nita’s direction. Deep-set eyes so dark they verged on black did a slow survey of Nita’s face, flickered lower for an instant, then returned to lock on Nita’s. “Well, hello.”

  Nita blinked, bombarded by a series of quicksilver images—wide, sensuous mouth; midnight curls tumbling onto a broad forehead; thick, almost straight black brows; and skin, she realized—not tanned—but a rich natural bronze. An Adonis, no doubt. But very much not a man. For one second Nita completely lost focus and everything else in the room receded from her consciousness except her awareness of this woman. How she hadn’t realized immediately that Adonis was a woman, despite the nondescript work clothes, she couldn’t imagine. Even partially turned away, her sharply-carved profile was just a little bit too exquisite to be male, despite its strength. And not even the well-developed shoulders and thighs could diminish the undeniably feminine nature of her body. The subtle swell of her breasts, the narrow waist, the slight curve of hip all screamed woman. Beautiful woman.

  Nita felt her skin warming as the woman continued to stare at her with a mixture of amusement and frank appreciation. Nita knew the look. Not just beautiful, beautiful and arrogant. This one knew she was gorgeous and no doubt knew the effect she had on women. Women and men, probably. She was looking at Nita as if she expected Nita to melt. Nita mentally shook herself—that wasn’t going to happen. Not now, not ever again.

  “Perhaps the patient would like to fill me in,” Nita said, dragging her gaze away from the dark hypnoti
c eyes. She knew she sounded irritated. She was irritated. And disturbed. Irritated at herself for even noticing how striking the woman was, and definitely disturbed for being intrigued—if only for an instant—by the admiring look in the woman’s eyes. Being stirred by any woman’s attraction was something she had thought she’d expunged from her mind and body, but apparently she’d been wrong.

  “If you could step back, please,” Nita said, “I need to see to your friend.”

  “By all means,” Deo said with a slightly mocking tone and a sweep of her arm, “be my guest.”

  Deo Camara wasn’t surprised by the doctor’s initial consternation. She was used to that. Strangers often took her for a guy, especially in her work clothes, or confused her with one of her many cousins. The anger that had quickly surged in the piercing, raw umber eyes was unexpected, though. What was even more unanticipated was that the doctor’s antagonism bothered her. She didn’t know the woman, so why should it matter what she thought? Annoyed at being off-balance, she shrugged and shifted a few inches, folding her arms across her chest and rocking back on her heels.

  “Thank you,” Nita said dryly, edging around the stranger when she failed to make room. Apparently she was as rude as she was good-looking. She smiled at the patient. “Hi. Joey is it?”

  “Yeah. Uh, yes ma’am.” He dropped his eyes and blushed.

  “I’m going to need to examine your hand. Why don’t you lie down.” She looked to Sally. “Gloves?”

  “Here you go.” Sally handed Nita a package of sterile gloves and then pulled on her own pair. “I’ve got a basin and sterile saline when you’re ready.”

  Nita glanced over her shoulder at Deo, who still stood so close Nita could smell a faint mixture of salt air and sawdust clinging to her. For some reason that struck her as more alluring than a fine perfume. Nonplussed at the thought, she said edgily, “This will probably take awhile. You might want to have a seat out front.”