Chapter five

Tammy's POV

I walk into the coffee shop, my head pounding and my breath ragged from my run.

I should have opted for coffee before going for a run to get me completely awake and energized, but I guess it's too late for regrets now.

I order a large cup of black coffee and take it to go sit by a booth close to the large window.

Covering most of my face with the hoodie of my tracksuit jacket, I slide down my sit, taking pathetic slurps of my coffee. I chose this booth because it gives me privacy, and I get to people-watch without the people having a clue that they're being watched.

I let my mind wander, going to the times when my grandad was still alive. It's almost time for his death anniversary and I'm already starting to miss him so much.

If when he was still alive, we used to go on early morning runs together, and afterwards grab coffee at a cafe close to where we lived. I haven't stepped a foot in that place since he died. Besides, I don't even miss the coffee there that much anyway. It's nothing, compared to the coffee served here.

A shadow looms over me and I push my hoodie backwards, peering upward at the person that interrupted my thoughts with their presence. My breath gets stuck in my throat on recognizing the figure before me.

'How did he manage to find me?'

"May I sit?" he asks, gesturing to the seat opposite mine.

I nod and he sits down. Following his movements with my eyes, I don't fail to take notice of the way his muscles flexes through his tight fitted tee-shirt. The hem rides up, revealing little of toned abdomen and v-line.

I swallow an invisible lump in my throat and force myself to look away, attempting to suppress the unwelcomed attraction I feel to this man who's still a stranger to me.

"If you keep staring at me that way, I might start to think you were hoping for me to find you," he states, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

Heat rises to my cheeks, at his comment about my blatant gawking. I adjust my hoodie so it's covering my eyes again, and l look down bashfully at the now cold cup of coffee in my hands. I hadn't even realized I had gone back to staring, and him calling me out that way has me feeling even more embarrassed.

Clearing my throat, I gather my thoughts and try to regain some composure. "I wasn't staring," I reply, tilting my chin up so I look so confident. I squint my eyes at him in suspicion. "How did you find me anyway?"

He chuckles softly, the sound sending a flutter through my chest. "I have my ways," he says with a shrug, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Besides, you said I had to find out your name, and where to see you if what I had to say was important," he reminds me of my words from yesterday.

I feel a twinge of surprise at the admission. In my defense, I hadn't expected him to take my words seriously. But of course he did.

'Maybe he really needs my help after all. What this stranger possibly need my help with? And why is it so important ?'

I twirl the cup in my hand and sigh, my curiosity getting the better part of me. "Well, now you've found me, you might as well state your need."

He leans forward, his expression serious, and the sparkle in his eyes dying down. "Tammy," he says my name, adding to my bewilderment about him bothering to find out about me. "I need your medical assistance. The people of my town have been falling sick so often, and we do not have a good nurse to watch over them."

I mull over his statement, feeling bad about delaying hearing him out. Something particular sticks out to me from his confession. "Sounds to me like what you need is a doctor, and not a nurse. Or better still, go to a hospital," I tell him. Hopefully he'll take heed to my words and take the rightful steps that'd help them out.

"No," he responds with a shake of his head. "We don't need a doctor, just a nurse to offer basic treatment, and taking them to a hospital is out of question."

Everything about this man has been so out of the ordinary. Now he's saying taking sick people to a hospital isn't something he can do? "Why?" I demand.

He looks at me inquisitively, with a raised brow. "Why what?"

I sigh and pinch the space between my eyebrows, trying to dispell the headache that was forming. "Why can't they be taken to a hospital?"

"We've already tried taking a few, hospitals don't provide what they need. And the ones that have been taken to the hospital, end up dying there. So if they're going to die anyway, why should we bother taking them there?" he explains.

I nod my head, understanding starting to dawn on me. Suddenly, my mind goes back to the patient from last night with the weird symptoms. He was this man's family, which means that-

"The man from last, was he also sick with whatever you're talking about?" I inquire, also coming to the realization that he hasn't stated the name of the sickness.

He nods, confirming my suspicion. "He was."

We fall into silence after his admission, and I take the time to process everything.

The man's sickness wasn't one that we had any understanding of. The autopsy revealed he had a seizure before he died, which is unusual for someone diagnosed with a mild fever. His medical records showed no history of epilepsy or any diseases that could cause seizures.

That means that whatsoever this man is saying, must be the truth.

I break the silence. "So where exactly do I come into play here?"

"I'm offering you a contract as my town's head nurse," he states.

I stare at him in disbelief, my mind racing as to why he would want me, a total stranger to take on such a massive responsibility? Shouldn't it be in the hands of someone he trusts?

He must be desperate, if he went through the trouble of doing what I asked. But why is he so interested in me?

Instead of speculating, I choose to ask him directly. "Why does it have to be me?"

He furrows his brows, as though lost in thought, all the while pinning me with a meaningful gaze. But doesn't answer.

I press on. "You could have easily found someone willing, but you still came back to me even when my conditions delayed your mission. What's the reason?"

"I don't know," he says quietly. His words say one thing, but the look in his eyes tells me there's something he's keeping hidden from me.

Normally, I wouldn't consider helping someone who's being cryptic. But thinking about all the sick and dying people who would only get worse if I don't help, fills me with unease. I can't sit back and do nothing, when I'm position to help.

I let out a breath from my lips, massaging my temple. I know I shouldn't delay it any longer, but I need time to think this through, and I have to figure out what to do with my current job. If he gets tired of my delay, he might decide to go meet someone else.

Making up my mind, I reply him. "Give me a few days to think about it."