Chance Meeting Read online

  Chance Meeting

  International Bestselling Author

  Rita Delude

  Copyright © 2019 by Crazy Ink

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Book Layout by Crazy Ink

  Dedication

  To those who believe in love at first sight…

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you to Erin Lee of Crazy Ink Pubishing for her love, encouragement, and patience with me; to Samantha Talarico for editing this book; and to Ron Delude, who I fell in love with at first sight and who is now my first reader. He gave me valuable suggestions on crucial plot points for this story.

  Chapter One

  Emily

  “The skies look like rain. We might not be able to stay until the fireworks,” I tell Izzy as we exit the Rowdy Roosters ride, my favorite, at Canabie Lake Amusement Park.

  “Then we have to hurry. It’s my first year I’m tall enough to ride the Corkscrew, and I’m not gonna miss it,” Izzy yells as she pulls away from my hand and runs ahead to the next ride of her choice. Oh, no, just like Susan.

  “Izzy, wait up,” I yell, but that doesn’t stop her.

  She is out of sight before I know what’s happened. My heart races, and I take off in a jog to catch up. My eleven-year-old niece is faster than I ever was at her age and certainly faster than I am today.

  By the time I get to her, she is bundled up on a park bench just a few feet away from the Corkscrew ride in the arms of a man I’d never seen before.

  “Get away from her, you pervert. Now!” I scream.

  “No, Aunt Emily. He’s helping me.”

  When I reach the bench, I see Izzy is bleeding profusely from what looks like a huge cut on her knee. Obviously, her running landed her in a slide. But where did this stranger come in? What business does he have touching my niece?

  “Izzy, are you alright?”

  Tears are streaming down her face.

  “It hurts, bad,” Izzy says in a choked voice.

  “Let me see,” I say, trying my hardest to hold back the bile that is rising in my throat. The sight of blood always leaves me oozy and in agony over the memory of my past.

  “She’ll be all right. The blood makes it look worse than it is. It’s a superficial wound,” the stranger says, as he puts Izzy down on the bench and unzips his backpack.

  “And how would you know? They’ve got medics here. I’ll call a medic. Do you know how I can do that?”

  Just then a security guard passes by and asks what the trouble is. Perhaps they have cameras and have seen Izzy fall.

  “My niece is hurt. We need a medic. Do you have a medic?”

  “I’m sorry she’s hurt, miss. I’ll call one right away.”

  “Thank you,” I say, relieved that someone who knows what to do will take over.

  From his backpack the stranger takes sterile wipes and cleans Izzy’s wound. As he rubs it clean he asks, “Let me know if it hurts. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m going to fix you up.”

  “You listen to Uncle Chance. He knows what he’s talking about,” a boy about Izzy’s age says.

  I haven’t even noticed him being there before he speaks since I am so focused on Izzy’s predicament.

  Then the man puts some ointment on the cut and places three butterfly shaped bandages on it.

  “There. That should look like nothing ever happened in about a week,” he says. “How are you feeling? How about a drink of water?” He pulls an unopened bottle of water from his pack and hands it to Izzy, who drinks it greedily.

  “Better. Thank you,” Izzy says, and she smiles up at him. God, she is so precious. My sister and I are lucky to have her in our lives.

  “What seems to be the trouble here? How can I help? I’m the park’s medic,” comes a voice from behind us.

  “Oh, I’m glad you’re here. Izzy fell and cut her knee. It’s a huge cut as you can see. Can you check it out?”

  He looks it over.

  “Looks like someone’s done more than I could have done. We take care of cuts and scrapes with ointments and bandages. Anything bigger, we call an ambulance. We’re not paramedics. Just employees carrying a bunch of bandages. Someone did a really fine job here. No need for me or an ambulance. But I do have to have you fill out an incident report.”

  I am livid. He hasn’t done anything to help Izzy, and it took him forever to get here, yet I am stuck with paperwork. I fill it out as quickly as possible and hand it to him, who at close inspection looks about nineteen years old and is covered in pimples.

  “Thank you. Have a nice day, miss.”

  Just then, with the better part of the crisis over, I get up from the bench, head to the nearest waste container, open it, and vomit. I pull a tissue from my cut-off jeans and wipe my mouth. God how foolish I must look, but it happens every time.

  “Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine,” I answer as I head back to the bench where Izzy and the others are waiting.

  “It’s okay. Aunt Emily can’t stand the sight of blood. She barfs every time.”

  “Gross,” the young boy shouts.

  Just then I really look at the stranger who has taken such good care of Izzy. He is about six-feet tall with short-cut, ebony hair, a five-o’clock shadow on a chiseled chin, and has blue eyes that sparkle with life. He is muscular, but not in that behemoth body-builder-competition way, just strong looking. He wears jeans shorts and a T-shirt that reads: “Feel Safe at Night Sleep with a Paramedic.” I smile at the sight of it.

  “I love your shirt.”

  He looks down to see what he is wearing and his face turns red.

  “Oh, that, Christopher here gave me that for my last birthday. Thinks he’s a bit of a comedian. I’m Chance Manning, by the way, and this is my nephew Chris Dube, my sister’s kid.”

  “Nice to meet you. Thanks so much for helping Izzy. That’s Isabella Harris, but we call her Izzy, she’s my sister’s daughter, and I’m Emily Pace. We were hoping to ride the Corkscrew before the rain came and we had to head out.”

  “We’re riding the Corkscrew, too, come on, Uncle Chance, let’s get going,” Chris says and runs ahead. Emily follows close behind and doesn’t listen when I warn her not to run.

  “She knows she can get away with anything with me. She does listen to her parents, though, so that’s a good thing,” I say, as Chance and I follow closely behind picking up our pace but not running.

  “I love kids and don’t have any, so I borrow Chris whenever I can to do things like this. It’s my excuse to do kid things without looking foolish.”

  “So, are you really a paramedic? You sure acted like one.”

  “Yep, that’s me. First, for four years in the Marines and now as a civilian. Love it. The job changes every day. There’s never a dull moment.”

  “I can’t imagine. As you could see, I’m terrified at the sight of blood, especially anyone else’s. I’m glad there are people like you who can handle it.”

  The line is short. The kids hop into the front seat without looking back, and we take the seat behind them. Roller coasters are not my favorite rides at the park, but I am determined that this hunk of humanity will not see me panic on the ride. After all, he’d already seen me throw up, so I go all out lifting my arms in glee at every dip in the ride and even when it spins us upside down, and I e
ncourage Izzy to do the same. Every time I look his way, Chance is grinning at me and his smile shows one deep dimple on his right cheek. Precious.

  Chapter Two

  Chance

  Precious is the word for Emily. Her dark, shoulder length hair shines in the sunlight; her eyes are a gray-blue I’ve never seen before, not in all the oceans and seas I’ve seen in my travels, not in any woman I’ve dated. She’s petite, but not frail. Except for being so queasy about blood, so opposite of me. Her lips are full and draw me in wanting to pull her in for a long, deep kiss. She’s got a sense of humor. She liked my shirt. Some ladies think it’s sexist. It’s not. I’m not. I did tours with some of the toughest and a few of them were females. They held their own. I respect women. I’d like to get to know this one. She’s sure enjoying this ride. I’m glad. The bigger the thrill, the better I like it.

  It starts to sprinkle as we exit the ride that takes only seconds compared to the wait in line.

  “Looks like we’ll have to head home now,” Emily says to Izzy.

  “Please, not yet,” the little blonde pleads with her aunt.

  “You can’t go now. When it rains, the crowds thin out and there are almost no lines. You end up getting three times the rides for your money,” Chris says.

  God, I love that kid. I don’t want them to leave either, but I can’t be obvious and beg.

  “Let’s go to the Boston Tea Party. That way, we’ll get wet and won’t care if it rains,” Izzy suggests.

  This little munchkin is quickly becoming my second favorite kid. Before we can hear any objections, we head off to the wettest ride in the park. One of my favorites. There’s still quite a line there because these folks don’t mind getting wet, which likely means they’ll be staying into the night, rain or shine, as we will.

  “So, I’m a paramedic. What do you do?”

  “I teach first grade students at Milford Elementary School.”

  “Wow, that’s impressive!”

  She smiles and her perfect teeth show me what her students must see a thousand times a day.

  “What’s so impressive? I’m not saving lives,” she says, looking down at her tiny sandaled feet, and I look too and see her toenails are painted blue to match her sleeveless top.

  “If I remember right, first grade is the one where we all started off dumb as bricks and before the year was out the teacher had us all reading and doing addition and subtraction and printing full sentences. I’d call that miracle working.”

  She laughs and the sound is a cross between a bird chirp and a baby chuckle. I’m smitten.

  “Well, saving a dying person is more of a miracle, but thanks for the compliment. It is quite a feat. The kids do come in pretty low on skills, but they pick them up fast, and when that light bulb goes on for each one, it’s makes all the effort so worth it. I love my job.”

  “I love mine too. I work out of Nashua, so we’re pretty busy.”

  “Aunt Emily, we’re next,” Izzy says, and we move into position. When the ride is over, we are soaked as we expected. We’re all laughing and we stand on the deck waiting for the next boat to crash down and soak us even more. When it does, I can see straight through to Emily’s bra because her shirt is plastered to her, so I look away, wanting, but not wanting to stare.

  It rains, but after the Boston Tea Party ride, it doesn’t bother us, and we fly through one ride after another taking several rides on the wooden Cannonball Rollercoaster and the 1903 Antique Carousel, which Chris calls lame.

  We stuff ourselves with cotton candy, candy apples, fried dough, popcorn, and pizza. Neither of us is able to say “no” to our charges. During the worst of the storm, we take in an Elvis impersonation show and even Chris and Izzy enjoy it. Eventually, the rain stops, which makes it possible for the Wednesday night fireworks to take place. Once a week, the park sets off a great fireworks display over the water on the lake. We always pick a Wednesday, so we don’t miss out on that.

  Just before the fireworks start, we hop onto the Caterpillar ride and when the canvas top slips over the top of us, I put my arm around Emily. She does not pull away. As the rides moves up and down and around, I feel my stomach doing the same. This lady has me doing flip flops. No woman since my return home has had me feeling this way. Maybe it’s the excitement of the rides, maybe it’s the accidental meeting, maybe it’s the smell of her skin, the scent of lilac shampoo, mixed with sweat and rain water, or the color of those eyes. Something tells me I must have more time with her.

  As the fireworks fill the skies and we four sit on the shoreline “oohing” at each color and sound, I watch the reflections in Emily’s eyes. She’s mesmerized and mesmerizing. I pull her to me and whisper, “I don’t want this night to end.”

  “I don’t either,” she says.

  Chapter Three

  Emily

  Did he mean it? We exchanged phone numbers, but does he really want to see me again? I wonder. I’ve met men before who made a great first impression, and who I thought I’d made a great impression on, but nothing came of it. Was this meeting with Chance the same? Will I never see him again? Well, if I don’t, it will be a long time before I forget the smell of his cologne and sweat mixed together with the raindrops that smell 110% male. It will be forever before I forget how his muscles tightened when he pulled the trigger time after time and won prizes for me and Izzy and Chris at the shooting range at the park. He lifted the rifle, flexed his muscles, aimed, and got the target with each shot. And I’d always thought those things were rigged. If they were, he had discovered the secret to beating the system, and if it wasn’t rigged, I understand why he’d done well in the Marines. He was a damned good shot. Then there were his eyes that were the blue of the inside of a glacier. So pure, clear, and perfect. I could look into those eyes forever and see into his soul.

  “Aunt Emily, thanks for the best day,” Izzy whispers, and it draws me from my thoughts of Chance.

  “Thank you for being my best niece,” I answer.

  Izzy laughs a long, happy giggle. “I’m your only niece.”

  “If I had one-hundred nieces, I’m sure you’d still be my best,” I tell her.

  “I think having Chris and Mr. Manning there made it even more fun. Chris is pretty funny for a boy, and I think Mr. Manning likes you.”

  Could she really have noticed something?

  “Really? Why do you say that?”

  “He was always staring at you, even when you weren’t looking at him or talking to him. He just kept looking like he was afraid he’d lose you in the crowd or even in the lines, and he smiled a lot when you looked at him.”

  “He has a nice smile,” I admit.

  “Yeah, Chris does too, for a boy,” she says. “Gosh, I’m tired.”

  “Well, they practically slammed the gates closed on our butts tonight because the park was closing,” I say, but when I hear no reply, I look and see that Izzy has fallen asleep. In her arms is the pink unicorn Chance won for her.

  It certainly was a special day.

  When I arrive at their house to drop off Izzy, Allen rushes to the car to wrap her in his arms and carry her up to bed. My sister, Laurie, invites me in for a visit. I refuse.

  “I can’t, sis. It’s been a long day. But I do want you to know that Izzy fell and got a good cut on her knee. She’s okay, but keep an eye on it and keep it clean, so it doesn’t get infected, okay?”

  “Look at you being all medical about a cut. Normally, you’d be throwing up, not telling me what to do about it.”

  “Well, a paramedic we met told me what to tell you. He said if she spikes a fever or the cut gets oozy, you should have her seen by her PCP.”

  Laurie laughed at me then.

  “Wow. You’re talking like this is my first rodeo. Izzy’s got her big brothers, you know. We’ve survived cuts before. I’ll keep an eye on it and her. Don’t you go worrying about it like you do.”

  “Okay, I won’t. I was panicked at first, but this paramedic was great.” />
  “Someone from the park?” Laurie asks.

  I look down and scuff my sneakers in the dirt that edges the driveway.

  “No, just another paying customer like us. He was there with his nephew, but he’s a trained paramedic and the first one to get to her when she fell,” I say, finally looking up at Laurie.

  She stamps her feet, and I notice she’s wearing the Garfield slippers I gave her for Christmas. “Is he cute? It sounds like someone’s got a crush.”

  I’m sure my face is turning three different shades of red before I can answer her.

  “We did spend the rest of the day and night talking with each other and going on rides. His nephew is about Izzy’s age. It was…nice.”

  Suddenly, Laurie pulls me into a huge hug and without warning Allen is back and the hug becomes a threesome and a real bear hug because he’s a big man.

  “What are we hugging about?” he asks.

  “Emily met someone at Canabie,” Laurie spills the beans.

  “It was just the paramedic that fixed Izzy’s knee when she fell.”

  “Oh that. I saw it. Looks like he knows what he’s doing. Question is, does he know how to handle you?”

  Laurie slugs Allen in the shoulder. “Cut it out. No teasing. You know she hasn’t been dating since some of those catfish she met on the Catch.net dating site. This may be just the guy for her.”

  It’s my turn to laugh. “Don’t start shopping for wedding gifts. We just met at the park. That’s all. Period.”

  Just then, my cell phone rings. With trembling hands, I pick it up. Unless it is Mom or Dad, who would be calling at this hour? Laurie and Allen are grinning at each other.

  “Hi, it’s Chance. Chance Manning. You know, the guy you met at Canabie today. I dropped off Christopher, and well…I can’t sleep. I was wondering if you’d like to meet me somewhere where we could have a drink and talk maybe or a coffee shop. Somewhere quiet. Maybe it’s too late. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called so late. I’ll try back tomorrow or maybe tomorrow’s not good. Would the next day be okay?”