Caressa was placing the newborn infant on his mother's chest when the paramedics made their way into the tiny, cramped bathroom of her favourite pub on Commercial Drive. A pub she would never look at the same way again. She rattled off what had happened as the paramedics clamped off the umbilical cord.

"You a doctor?" The petite female paramedic with short-cropped hair gave her a big smile.

"Nurse." Caressa tried to extricate herself and return to her guys.

"You did a good job," the other paramedic said. He was a bigger man, also sporting a wide grin. "Must have happened fast."

"I don't know what happened." The new mother gripped her baby tightly. "I came in here and my water broke and..."

Another patron had come running out asking if there was a doctor in the restaurant. Nobody stepped up, so of course Caressa had run into the bathroom, only to be confronted with a baby who was crowning. Instinct had kicked in, and out had popped a very placid baby. It was all a little much, but she had assisted with births before and undoubtedly would, again.

Caressa watched as the paramedics prepared to move mother and child to a stretcher. Just before they began to lift her, the woman waved them off. She turned to Caressa. "I don't even know your name."

Smiling, Caressa gave her name.

"I would name my baby after you..."

"But he's a boy."

The woman nodded. Then she asked, "Who are you here with?"

"My friends Michael and Cole."

"Michael Cole." The mother beamed. "I think that's the perfect name." She allowed the paramedics to move her to the gurney and begin to bundle her into the blankets, securing her with the straps while she cuddled her son.

As they wheeled the woman out, Caressa wondered idly what would have happened if she had said Cole and Michael instead of the other way around. She didn't expect the woman, who was still high from the birth, to actually name her son after Caressa's two best friends, but it was a nice thought.

As the paramedics left, the manager of the pub came back in. She looked ruefully around the room. "I think the men's bathroom is going to be unisex for the rest of the night." There were towels strewn across the floor, which was wet with amniotic fluid. The smell was almost overwhelming, but it gave Caressa the reassurance she needed that mother and child would be fine, since it was that of a normal and healthy birth.

Caressa grinned. "Yeah, probably a good idea."

"I have to tell you, that woman's husband was useless. Apparently, this is their fourth child and the guy was so pale your friends had to get him to sit down and put his head between his knees before he passed out. They in the medical profession as well?"

Caressa shook her head. "No, Michael is an engineer and Cole is an actor."

The manager's eyes went wide. "That's where I've seen him. He's the lead on that new series, isn't he? Man, he is hot."

Since she couldn't disagree, Caressa smiled. Women had always found Cole attractive. Or at least they had since his braces had come off, he'd gotten contacts, and his gangly teen body started filling out. Cole's late teens had been good to him and he'd gone to theater school right out of high school. He'd paid his dues, working his way around productions for years, but this new series was his big break. It had been picked up by one of the major American networks and just renewed for a second season.

Feeling a chill, Caressa looked down at herself and grimaced. Amniotic fluid did not look or smell good on her favorite jeans and pale-blue blouse. The blouse she had chosen because it matched her eyes. Not that she was dressing up for Michael and Cole. They wouldn't care if she showed up in a potato sack. But it was the first time she'd gone out since returning to Vancouver, and she'd wanted to look nice. Since Cole had complimented her on the blouse and Michael had admired her hair, she'd obviously cleaned up okay. After two years in a little village in Africa, it felt weird to sit and have dinner in a first-world country with running water and cold beer.

"I think I need to get going."

"My chef has put together a take-out box for you and your friends. We didn't figure you were going to stay." She waved at Caressa's clothes. "Feel free to send me the dry-cleaning bill."

Caressa gave the woman a smile and made her way over to the sink. She'd scrubbed as best as she could before delivering the baby and now she was going to do her best to clean up. Then she was going home. There was a fleeting moment of disappointment, though, because she'd been looking forward to catching up with Michael and Cole. Their meal had barely been served before the call to help had come. Since she loved this pub's dishes, she would enjoy whatever the chef had prepared for her.

When she finally emerged from the bathroom, Cole and Michael were sitting at the nearest table, Michael holding her coat, Cole holding the bag of what Caressa assumed was the food. She was barely out the door before the two men rose to their feet and began applauding. Within moments, all the patrons of the restaurant were out of their chairs. There were a few whistles in the mix. Caressa was surprised, but then realized she shouldn't be. Of course the whole place knew what she had done. So, despite her blushing cheeks, she curtseyed to the crowd.

Pretty soon the patrons were back on their barstools or sliding back into their booths.

"Bravo." Michael pulled her close and gave her an enthusiastic hug.

"I'm covered in gunk." Caressa tried to push away. It was pointless as Michael was a strong man with an iron grip.

"No matter." He patted her shoulder. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"Why wouldn't I be?" She had hardly been in any peril in the bathroom. But then she understood his underlying meaning. She realized he'd probably been worried while she'd been in Africa. So she allowed herself to be pulled into an embrace that felt so familiar it was like coming home, and laid her head against his chest as Cole ruffled her hair.

"You did good, kiddo." Cole lightly caressed her temple. He glanced down at his watch. "I really hate to do this, but my call time is at 4:00 a.m., which is about six hours from now. We're doing an early dawn scene. Hoping for mist off the creek, and all that stuff."

Caressa hadn't realized she'd been gone so long. It had felt like minutes, although it had clearly been longer than that. "I'm sorry you can't enjoy the food with us."

"So am I. I would have loved to invite you two back to my place, but I've got to get some sleep." He ran his hands through his black hair, which was longer than the normal style. It nearly swept his shoulders and framed a face blessed by the gods, with his high cheekbones, chiseled jaw, corded neck, and deep-blue eyes. Caressa understood why women swooned over him week after week in his role of corporate raider by day and secret vigilante by night.

He pressed a kiss to Caressa's forehead, which was easy to do as he had a few inches over her five-foot-seven-inch height. "I'm glad you're back safely." There was a hitch in his voice, the first chink in his armor Caressa could ever remember.

She blinked back tears. "I missed you guys too." And she had. Just not enough to come back. She'd taken four straight tours because she'd feared coming back to Vancouver and seeing her best friends would have caused her resolve to falter, resolve to help and give back to a world that had been so good to her.

Cole held his hand out to Michael. "Soon."

Michael nodded. "Definitely."

With a nod to both of them, Cole turned and headed toward the door, not looking back as he stepped out into the cold and rainy Vancouver evening. It was mid-December and the weather had taken a turn into true winter, bringing with it days and days of unrelenting rain. After the arid and hot climate of South Sudan, Vancouver was a relief—a return to what she knew and loved. Rain had never been an impediment to having a good time with her two best friends.

"Why don't we go back to my place," Michael offered. "You're staying out in the Valley, right? No sense driving back there tonight."

Caressa was staying with a friend from nursing school in Mission City, about an hour out of town. Now that she was crashing from the adrenaline high, the promise of a hot shower and food was alluring. She linked her arm with Michael's and gave him a wide grin. "Deal."

They left the pub and headed around the corner to the side street where Michael had parked his late-model SUV. At Caressa's raised brow, he shrugged. "It's great when I have to go out to a job site." Then he grinned. "And sometimes it's just great to have my own vehicle." His last car had been a Honda Accord that had seen better days. That Michael could now afford this small luxury spoke well of how he was succeeding as a structural engineer. He held the door for Caressa, waiting until she was in before shutting it.

She watched as he rounded the hood and slid into the driver's seat. Within moments, he was pulling out and heading downtown, where his new condo was. He had turned on the seat warmers and the hot air was on full, trying to blast away the chill of the night. The truck still had that new car smell and was decked out with all the latest accoutrements and a few gizmos Caressa didn't even recognize.

In the passing streetlamps, Caressa stole greedy glances. Whereas Cole had the tall, dark, and dangerous look, Michael was more of a hometown golden boy. He had short blond hair and beautiful hazel eyes. Eyes that had clouded with concern when she announced she was leaving for some war-torn country on another continent. Eyes that revealed his relief and pleasure at her safe return. Eyes that were as open and honest as he was.

Michael glanced over while they were stopped at a red light, catching her staring. "What?" There was mild amusement in his voice.

"Just thinking."

"About," he prompted.

"You... Cole... Africa..." She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I'm glad to be home, you know?"

He nodded, his attention turning back to the green light. Without looking at her, he reached across and took her hand in his, squeezing it. She wanted to admonish him about keeping two hands on the wheel, but held herself back because the contact felt so good. Michael, despite his abusive upbringing, had always been comfortable offering physical comfort to her and Cole. And emotional support as well. Of the three, his had been the direst of circumstances, yet he had endured and had been a source of strength and support. He had been the one to push them into studying hard and getting good grades. It was his encouragement that empowered Caressa to go to nursing school on a scholarship. That same inner determination enabled Michael to get a degree in engineering and encouraged Cole to go to theater school.

Before she realized they had arrived, Michael took away his hand to reach for the key fob to raise the gate for the garage of his building. As he drove slowly down to the lower level, Caressa glimpsed quite a few automobile brand names she recognized. Cars whose cost could feed a village in Africa for a year or two, could bring desperately needed medicine and better healthcare.

The familiar band tightened across her chest. She had done everything in her power to help, but it never felt like it was enough. And now she was back in a world of privilege and comfort. She might be just couch-surfing, but it was in a warm bed with unlimited hot water. Things Caressa would never again take for granted. She had bags of warm, fragrant food on her lap, and the smell filled the truck, making her salivate. Unlike those she left behind, she wouldn't go hungry tonight or be unable to find clean water.

Knowing it was expected, Caressa waited for Michael to come around and open her door. He held it open for her, relieved her of the food, and helped her alight, then closed the door when she was out. For someone who grew up with monsters for parents, Michael had somehow developed a true sense of chivalry and empathy, qualities that held him in good stead over the years as the many women in his life had proven. But there had never been a special someone. Or at least, not as far as Caressa knew. Maybe that had changed while she'd been away.

"Am I going to be intruding on some other woman's territory?" She suddenly halted their journey to the elevator.

Michael stopped as well, meeting her gaze head-on. "No."

She waited, but there was no elucidation. Nothing to give her a clue about the current woman in Michael's life—or if there even was one. The whole train of thought brought her up short. She had never concerned herself before about Michael's love life as the women had always been transitory. She had assumed if he was to become serious with a woman, he would share her existence with both Cole and herself.

Michael gestured for her to continue and she did, feeling unsettled. Two years was a long time to have been away. There had been lots of letters and e-mails when she managed to get to a computer with internet, but truth be told, Michael wasn't much of a letter writer. Cole, on the other hand, with his dramatic flourish, had been a font of information about Vancouver and the goings-on. But his letters had always left her feeling a bit empty as he hardly talked about his personal life.

The elevator car was waiting and it whisked them to the seventh floor. Michael unlocked the door to the condo and ushered Caressa inside.

"It's not much." He held the door for her, locking it after she had walked through. Then he put the food on the island in the kitchen.

She waved him off, stepping into the space. "It's lovely, Michael." She took in the main living area with its kitchen, dining room, and living room all in one large space. The walls were a soft grey with ivory crown molding. There were several prints in frames that Caressa began to examine. One was a cityscape of downtown Vancouver at night, with the bright lights of the city.

"I have the same view from my balcony." Michael gestured. "But this print seemed to capture the vitality of the city."

Caressa noted that it was showing the downtown core and not the Downtown Eastside where they had grown up. Two miles might have been a million, the disparity a chasm between the two worlds. She moved on to the next print that was of the North Shore Mountains at dusk. There were pink and purple streaks in the sky falling across the snow-dusted peaks. It had obviously been taken in winter during ski season since the mountains were bare of covering during the summer.

"I did the Grouse Grind last summer."

Caressa whirled to meet his sheepish gaze. "That's how many steps up?"

"Two thousand three hundred and eighty." Michael had a shy smile on his face. But there was a gleam in his eye. "About a mile and a half to get up the mountain."

"Well, that's crazy."

Michael shook his head. "It took me a while, but it wasn't so bad. I just wanted to be able to claim to have done it, you know?"

She did know. It had been one of the things they had always talked about but had never managed to find time to do.

"We'll do it together."

Caressa snickered. "Don't kid yourself, Michael. I might be leaner than I was before, but it's not from doing cardio."

He shrugged. "We have four months to get you in shape. The Grind doesn't open until spring."

Another reminder that it was just a couple of weeks before Christmas. Regardless, the thought of serious exercise and training left her feeling weary. She was accustomed to hard work, but not actual physical labor. "What made you decide to do it?"

"I went up when you told me you were staying for your fourth tour."

Caressa was stunned. It seemed like such an odd thing to do in reaction to her decision to stay in South Sudan working with Médecins Sans Frontiers. The Grind was a challenge, sure, but it wasn't dangerous. "Why...?"

"Because I was worried about you and I needed to let off some steam. What I really wanted to do was fly to Africa and drag you home, but I didn't figure international authorities would turn a blind eye to kidnapping, so I went up the Grind. Cole went out and got wicked drunk."

Speechless, Caressa sought words. Her brain was slow in responding. "I was safe where I was, Michael. I told you that."

"In a war zone, Caressa, really? You've never seemed like a stupid woman to me. Naïve? Yes. Stupid? No."

"They needed me, Michael. They still do, but I knew it was time to come home. I might go back—"

"No."

The word was said in a deceptively quiet tone, but Caressa couldn't miss the underlying message. She held Michael's gaze and noted the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes that were glittering in the lamplight. Finally, he appeared to relent, his taut stance relaxing.

"I don't think I will survive you leaving again, Caressa. Neither will Cole."

She didn't know what to say. So she drew a deep breath and tried to find her center of calm. Michael had always been a reasonable guy. The easygoing one. The strong one. The implacable one. "Well, my contract at St. Paul's Hospital is for a year, so you can relax. I was able to get into the emergency department, even though most of my trauma skills are rusty. I considered applying for maternity, but I would have to go through the qualifications, and by the time I do..."

"It would be time to contemplate going back." Michael correctly read her reticence at completing the thought.

"Why don't you show me the rest of your home?"

His lips pursed, but he gave her a quick nod. "There's not much to it. Vancouver prices being what they are and not wanting to take on a huge mortgage, I opted for a one bedroom." He beckoned her along the short hallway. The door to the bedroom was open and Caressa was stepping in as Michael reached for the light switch. She waylaid him and he stopped mid-movement. The blinds were open and the room was bathed in the city lights. There was a building directly across the street and many of the apartments had lights on. Some blinds were open and Caressa could see in, looking at people who were getting on with their lives.

"Sometimes I sit in the dark and watch." Michael eerily read her thoughts. "I just sit and wonder what they're doing. What's going on in their lives? What tragedies and comedies are they enduring?"

"Sounds like something Cole would do."

"Probably." Michael laughed. "But wait until you see his place. He's really moved up in the world."

Caressa tore her gaze away from the cityscape and turned, indicating Michael could turn on the light. The two bedside lamps illuminated, on low settings, and the room had a warm glow about it. "I can't hear the traffic noise."

"Good soundproofing. If you go out on the balcony, you get a sense of it. I like living downtown. I like the vibe of the city."

Turning, Caressa caught the fleeting look on his face. "No, Michael, you don't. Your dream was always to find somewhere nice and quiet, out in the country. As far away from the city as you could get."

His eyes flashed. "Those were childhood dreams, Caressa, nothing more. I work in the city and, therefore, have to live in the city."

"How very practical of you." She cringed at her tone. She didn't mean to taunt him with his former dreams, but Michael had always talked about getting out of the city. Sure, they were far away from their childhood apartments, but he was still enmeshed in the city life he had always claimed to detest. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "No biggie." He stepped over to the walk-in closet and came back a moment later with a terry-towel robe. "It'll be a bit big, but you'll manage. Toss your clothes out the bathroom door and I'll put them in the laundry."

"En suite?"

"Yep." Now there was a wry grin. "No more laundromats for me. Ever."

Caressa flashed to a memory of Cole pushing her in a cart around the laundromat while Michael tried to coax them into behaving. They couldn't have been more than ten, but the owner had a penchant for hanging out in his back office and smoking joints, not caring who was using the machines as long as they picked up the clothes before closing time. Anything still there had a tendency to wind up in the dumpster at the back of the store. For that reason, and the ever-present threat of theft, the three of them had never left the clothes unattended. In later years, they brought their school books and, under Michael's steady tutelage, Caressa and Cole had worked to understand and learn everything they would need to know to get out from under the crushing poverty.

She pointed to a door. "Bathroom?"

He nodded. "I'll wait out here for the clothes."

"Thanks, Michael." Caressa hesitated, then moved closer to him. She placed her hand on his muscled forearm and leaned over, tipping her head up to press a kiss to his cheek. "For everything."

She was about to slip away when he turned his face toward her. "Please don't go back, Caressa." His voice hitched on her name. "I think I'll go out of my mind if you do." Then he turned away, going over to the windows, his back to her. "I'll break."

Words again escaped her because she'd had no notion he felt this way. In all his correspondence, he'd always told her to stay safe, but had never mentioned his fears for her. Yet she could see the tension in his hunched shoulders.

He reached out and placed a hand on the window pane.

A gust of wind sent a lash of rain against it, almost matching the tumult she felt inside. "I'll toss my clothes out." Without another word, she fled.

I hoped you liked this first chapter.  The anthology is available on Amazon and Kobo and is on sale until August 31st.  Also, feel free to message me and let me know if you enjoyed it.