Kitabı oku: «A Man to Believe In»
He’s the one worth keeping!
Love at first sight? Cassie Michaels thinks that notion exists only in the movies. Until she meets Peter Chapman and finds herself in deep, that is! He’s gorgeous, charming and very determined to see where this attraction can go. So even though the small-town E.R. where they work has a no-dating policy, it’s not long before she’s seeing him after hours.
But the rush of this affair takes a backseat when Cassie receives a serious diagnosis. How can she focus on a commitment with Peter when she needs to focus on recovering? Still, he proves his worth when he doesn’t walk away so easily….
“Do you think this is a date?”
“It will be if you kiss me,” Peter replied instantly.
Cassie laughed. “Be serious.”
Oh, he was serious. Okay, she’d spoken her mind, he’d followed suit. He couldn’t help himself. “I’d like to kiss that sexy baseball cap right off your head.”
“We just met a short time ago, Peter.”
“Does it matter?”
Her gaze slid from his face to the lighthouse behind him, as if thinking over her next answer. When those beautiful blue eyes darkened with desire, his blood fired. The twin braids falling over her shoulders lay like two lifelines to her mouth. He watched caution replace the want in her eyes as he lifted the baseball cap from her head. She leaned back. “Slow down, surfer dude.”
Those were definitely not the words he wanted to hear.
Dear Reader,
It’s so easy to be in love when all is well in the world. Love is truly tested and the real measure of a man or woman comes to light when adversity strikes. As a hopeless romantic, I prefer to believe that love conquers all. This fact was proven to me when my beautiful niece, an emergency room nurse, was struck with cancer in her late twenties.
Cassie Michaels, the heroine in A Man to Believe In, was drawn from this vibrant, beautiful and compassionate woman, who attracts the admiration of her coworkers, friends and family because she is so generous with her own love. In the beginning of her career, she met and fell in love with her boyfriend, who is also an emergency room nurse—a man of integrity, honor and love.
When this inspirational woman was diagnosed with Hodgkin’s lymphoma, her prognosis was good, but the chemotherapy was grueling. Hair and weight loss, nausea, lethargy, lack of appetite—all draining and distressing—brought some dark moments, but she never lost her positive attitude. When she was at her absolute lowest point during treatment, her boyfriend asked her to marry him. He wanted her to understand his deep love for her and his absolute confidence that they would spend the rest of their lives together. Today, my niece is free of cancer. When this book is released, these two lovers will have been married for two months. I will be at their wedding, celebrating my socks off!
I cherish a good love story, whether in real life or fiction. A Man to Believe In is complete fiction, but know that it was inspired by a true love story that I watched unfold, through adversity, only to triumph into happily ever after. God, I love my job!
Happy reading, my friend! Please let me know how you liked the story. Contact me at kathleenpickering@ymail.com.
Much love,
Kathleen Pickering
A Man to Believe In
Kathleen Pickering
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kathleen Pickering believes the best stories are drawn from real life, where readers can relate to the action and breathe that sigh of satisfaction at the end when the hero and heroine find “happiness ever after.” Inspiration is never more rewarding than achieving one’s goals—whether in love or life—after overcoming challenges with dignity, integrity and grace. Kathleen draws her characters and stories from real-life situations. She loves to travel and usually finds her adventures become research for her writing, because love and adversity dwell everywhere. When she sees or experiences either, she is surely taking note to share with her readers.
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This book is dedicated to Marrianna and Drew—true inspiration for the power of love in their lives and in their professional world.
Contents
Prologue
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
Epilogue
Excerpt
PROLOGUE
NO WAY COULD he compete with the dead.
Peter approached the memorial, the sculpture’s relief taking shape against the silhouetting sunrise. A pink granite pillar supported the bronze form of a man standing in a boat. The inscription read In Remembrance of Those Lost at Sea While Fishing These Waters.
His insides wrenched at the thought of Cassie surviving a near brush with death yesterday, Kyle’s name, not his, on her lips. He remembered the grateful look of love in her eyes when she had regained consciousness and had seen him. Yet, when speaking about going home, she had wanted Kyle.
A damned ghost.
The woman of his dreams was fighting for her life. All he wanted to do was love her, help her heal. But no. She turned him away, along with his offer of marriage, because of a man and a memory lost at sea years ago. Peter couldn’t even lay hands on the dude to punch him out for breaking her heart and get some satisfaction and release from his anger.
His tormentor stood over him in the form of Montauk’s larger-than-life memorial—a muscled fisherman, shirtless, wearing waders and hauling a line. The fisherman stared away from Peter with sightless eyes, intent on the invisible catch over the side of the boat.
Peter pulled the engagement ring from his pocket. His grandmother’s ring. Saved for the perfect woman. From his other pocket, he drew a pocketknife. As the morning sun rose over the horizon and splashed brilliant gold light around him, Peter kneeled to the left of the fisherman, and sliced deep into the grass. In a hole deep enough to siphon his life, he buried the ring, marking the burial place in his heart.
He walked away.
Sometimes the ocean—and the dead—had no mercy.
CHAPTER ONE
Six months ago...
PETER CHAPMAN’S PICKUP crested the hill leading into Montauk Point, revealing his first glimpse of The End—the very tip of New York’s Long Island. The sunrise bursting over the Atlantic Ocean shone straight into his gut. Rays of gold illuminating the clouds lifted his spirits higher than the seagulls soaring overhead.
Exhausted from the long drive, he lowered the window, letting the brisk morning air rouse him awake. Peter whistled softly into the headset attached to his cell phone. “I made it, Gil. I’m home.”
“Well done, bro! I feel like I’ve arrived with you.”
Peter chuckled. Keeping one hand on the wheel, he rubbed his dry, itching eyes with the other. “You did, Gil. You stayed up all night, talking when I got tired. You shared the driving.”
“Just making sure you’re okay.”
Gilbert did stuff like that, as a friend more than an older brother. Though only eleven months his senior, the older status didn’t really count. They’d always been there for each other.
Peter steered the truck into the valley of the next rise, anticipating the view from the hilltop. He wanted to imprint this new vista in his mind every time he closed his eyes instead of seeing the accusing hurt in Melanie Chapman’s gaze, which had haunted him the entire ride here. Five days on the road from Los Angeles hadn’t erased the guilt of his last moments with his mother before leaving.
“The way Mom looked at me tore my heart out, Gil.”
Gilbert scoffed. “We went over this already. She’s messing with your head, as always. I don’t know why you let her get to you.” His voice dropped. “Besides, you had no choice. Even Uncle Michael said so. She’ll be fine where she is.”
Peter had spent a lifetime protecting his gentle-spirited brother from their mother’s depressive state. It felt good to have the tables turned with Gil supporting Peter’s choice to leave home. Peter had also shielded their mother’s sporadic substance abuse from prying eyes, learning quickly as an adolescent that if he let his mother sleep off her weeks, sometimes months, of depression, it freed him up to run the household and keep their world as normal as possible without outside intervention. Once his brother moved to San Francisco, Peter’s job of holding the family together was over. Uncle Michael, his mother’s brother, had been there for the boys when he could, but knowing Peter had carried the brunt of the responsibilities through the years, Michael insisted that there was nothing more Peter needed to do. Right now, he didn’t want to think about it.
“So, I guess you’re ready to catch some sleep,” he said to his brother. “I should let you go.”
Gil yawned into the phone. “Yeah. Feels like I pulled one of your all-nighters studying when you were in school.”
“Couldn’t have made the grade without you and Rudy backing me up.”
Gil chuckled. “After two years, he’s still telling me how great you looked in your nursing uniform at graduation.”
Peter laughed. “I’ll send a set of scrubs anytime you want.”
Peter had busted his tail to get through nursing school, and had loved his two-year stint in the E.R. in Los Angeles. Gilbert and his partner, Rudy, were the only ones who supported him from graduation until now, and still cheered him on. They were all the family he needed, but staying around L.A. wasn’t an option any longer. When the opening for the emergency room nurse in Montauk appeared, he had grabbed it and run.
Anyplace that touted itself as The End was exactly where he wanted to be—as far away as he could get from the fact that he’d failed his mother. In his heart, Peter believed he had caved and threw in the towel, despite Uncle Michael insisting that a twenty-eight-year-old man needed to pursue his own life.
“Well, I’m as far away from Los Angeles as a man can get while staying in the good old U.S.A.”
“No, bro.” Gil gave an exaggerated sigh. “You could have gone to Maine.”
“Too rocky to surf and the water is freezing.” He’d researched Montauk, and the surfing had capped the deal. Seems the remote fishing village had some of the best waves on the East Coast. Locals even surfed through the winter with the proper gear. Arriving in Montauk now, he’d have time to adjust to the area before the traditional surfing season.
“A nursing career and surfing? We might not ever see you again.”
Peter glanced through the rearview mirror at the bed of his pickup, which carried his few belongings. Three surfboards and a trunk with some household basics, his clothes, the LEGO he’d loved as a kid. Maybe one day he’d have a kid of his own to pass them on. After he outgrew LEGO, he had discovered the water, and surfing had become his saving grace. When Mom wigged out, he put her to bed and hit the beach where he didn’t have to think about anything but the next wave.
Cresting another hill, Peter slowed the truck way down. A woman riding a mountain bike glided from the center to the side of the road. He wanted to pass her safely. Besides, the flash of her long-sleeved T-shirt and tight biking shorts made him want to see more. He pulled up beside her, slowing enough to enjoy the view, especially that trim butt. A mass of blond curls fell down her back. Sunglasses and a baseball cap shielded her eyes. Hey, no bike helmet? He’d like to give her a lecture on biking safety. Any excuse would do to pull over that beauty and engage her attention. What a great mouth and just enough determination to that chin. All in a glance. She was his type of girl. He was gawking like a schoolboy and couldn’t stop himself.
She glanced his way then did a double take. She must have liked what she saw because her frown turned into a smile that nearly floored him.
Not wanting to look like a jerk, he sped up. “Nice!” The move to Montauk kept getting better and better.
“What is?” Gil asked.
“Bro, I gotta go. Riding next to some local wildlife and she looks promising.”
Gil laughed. “Why don’t you stop her and ask for directions?”
“Great idea. I’ll call later. Love you, bro.”
Not wanting to ogle the woman, he passed giving her enough room for safety. She waved her thanks. He smiled but really wanted to whistle. He’d keep an eye out for her around town. Meanwhile, he became so preoccupied watching this awesome female in the side mirror that he swerved to miss a deer darting into his path from the woods across the street. Glad to miss it, he didn’t expect a buck following the doe to bolt in front of the truck. He yanked the wheel too hard, veering off the road toward a shallow ditch. No room to maneuver.
“Damn!”
The truck nose-dived into the narrow embankment. Impact stopped his truck, but not before Peter’s head smacked the steering wheel. The clatter of his surfboards flying around the flatbed filled his ears.
“What the...?” His forehead stung. Wet warmth trickled into his eye. His vision began fading, and he realized he was bleeding and blacking out. He couldn’t stop the sensation. Almost as an afterthought, the air bag released to catch his fall.
* * *
BUZZING IN HIS ears grew louder. An antiseptic scent invaded his nostrils. Hospital. Familiar. Peter tried to open his eyes, but the light hurt. He closed them once more.
“Well, this is a fine way to introduce yourself to new coworkers.”
The laughter and warmth in the woman’s voice made him want to see the person coaxing him awake. An odd satisfaction filled him. The calmness in her voice tugged at his awareness until he could no longer resist.
Peter opened his eyes. In the few seconds it took to focus, he was pretty damned sure an angel stood over him. A halo of honey-gold hair framed clear blue eyes and the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. Surely he’d died and gone to heaven.
“Who are you?”
Her smile widened. “Cassie Michaels. Your ID says that you are Peter Chapman. You passed me on your way into town. Good thing I was there when you ran off the road.”
Ahh. The beautiful wildlife of Montauk on the road. Sans hat or sunglasses. Man, was she pretty.
“You shouldn’t ride without a helmet.”
She winced. “I know. I know. I broke my helmet in my last fall. I’ll take care of that.”
“Your last fall?” He closed his eyes. If he had any say, she’d not ride again until properly equipped. “Am I at Mercy Hospital?”
“Yes. We were expecting you next week. Thought you’d walk through the door instead of arriving early by ambulance.”
“You were expecting me?”
“I work here in the E.R. Today is my day off.”
His new coworker? Could it get any better? He managed to grin. “I like to make memorable entrances.”
She laughed. “I’ll bet you do.”
Despite his throbbing head, he didn’t miss that she spoke with just enough emphasis to be flirting. He liked that. He also liked the way she rested her bombshell blue gaze on his. Oh, yeah. This one had keeper written all over her. He glanced at her left hand. No wedding ring.
“Did I hurt the deer?”
“No. They got away.”
“Thought so.” He closed his eyes, but the vision of her burned in his mind. He opened his eyes to find her staring at him. She was smiling, and he wanted to die. “You were the first local I saw, and we’re meant to work together. That’s a coincidence.”
“Not really. Montauk is a small town.” She looked around the room with a satisfaction that seemed soul-deep. “I hope you like it here. I’ve worked at Mercy full-time for three years now. My mother retired and I took her place. I’ve been haunting these halls since I was a little girl.”
“I guess you like your job.”
“You could say that.” Her affable gaze turned serious. “So, how do you feel?”
He closed his eyes again to assess the damage. “Bit of a headache, but I’m okay.”
Her voice grew quiet. “You have a black eye, which will probably swell more. You were out for a while.”
Her concern zapped right through him. “I probably needed the sleep. I drove through the night.” He touched the tender spot on his forehead. Bandage. Tape.
“You took a few stitches,” Cassie explained.
“That’s it?” He didn’t really hurt anywhere else, but his throbbing forehead held his attention.
“Otherwise you’re fine. We did a pan scan.”
Full-body X-ray. Standard procedure. Check. “Good news. My truck?”
She laid a reassuring hand on his. He must be delusional because he felt a tingle, like electricity, where her fingers rested. “Towed to the station. Jack, one of the local police, is making sure your possessions are safe. He was a great help. I left you in his care once the ambulance arrived so I could ride the bike home and get my car.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. We take care of our own here.”
Our own. She’d already included him in the community. Nice. Inhaling a deep breath, he rested, absorbing the sounds of his new workplace. A ringing phone. Call for a doctor over the intercom. The squeaking of sneaker-clad feet moving down the hall. Nurses chattering at their station. The E.R. seemed to be moving smoothly for a Tuesday.
“So you’re a surfer.”
The curiosity in her voice was as sexy as her mouth. He caught the tilt of her head, the friendliness in her eyes. Damn. She was sweet. He couldn’t believe his good luck.
“Yeah. Love to surf. Do you?”
“I ride a mean boogie board.”
Oh, man, that smile! “I hear the waves are good here.”
“The locals like to keep a low profile.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “One of our best secrets is that a very popular musician known for his songs about the tropics surfs his long board at Ditch Plains regularly.”
He slowly sat up. Cassie reached to prop a pillow behind his back. She smelled great. Baby powder and something sweet like honeysuckle and incense. Made his chest tighten, so he inhaled deeper.
“You have an excellent bedside manner.”
She blushed and took a step back, giving him a chance to take in her slim, lithe body with curves in all the right places. Oh, yeah. Great curves in those biking clothes.
“I think you’ve recovered, Nurse Chapman. Let’s get you released. I’ll introduce you to Dr. Bailey then we’ll get you to wherever you are staying.”
He was naked under the hospital gown. “Not sure I want to meet my new boss undressed. Tips the balance of power from my favor.”
Her grin grew wider. “You two have already met.”
He glanced at the plastic bag on the chair holding his bloodstained clothes. “Who cut off my shirt and shorts?”
“Doc Bailey. The other three nurses wanted to insure that you hadn’t sustained any further injuries.”
A sense of humor. He liked that. He liked her. His new job already had its benefits. Carefully, he swung his feet over the side of the bed. He wondered what his new boss, John Bailey, thought about his odd arrival. He wanted to make himself more presentable as soon as possible.
“I’ll need clothes.”
She opened the small closet. His satchel stood on end in the narrow space. “Jack figured as much and brought this for you.”
“That’s great. Gotta love the local police.”
Feet on the floor, he stood to test his equilibrium before covering his exposed rear end. She didn’t seem to notice.
“Dizzy?”
He shook his head. “No. Hungry.”
“Where are you staying?”
“Booked a room at the Oceanside Resort.”
She pulled his satchel from the closet. “That’s pretty close. Do you need help dressing?”
All sorts of inappropriate answers flew through his mind. “I think I can handle it.”
“I’ll be happy to drive you to the Oceanside.”
* * *
CASSIE WAS HALFWAY down the hall before she realized she was holding her breath. Oh. My. God. They sure knew how to grow men in California! Peter Chapman had rocked her balance from her first glance of him out on the road. Now that she’d seen him up close and personal, heard the deep timbre of his voice then had a chance to lose herself in those smoking dark eyes, her knees practically shook.
It was bad enough his brief smile had practically knocked her off her bike this morning. One glance at the California license plates had her sending a small prayer skyward that maybe he’d be the new coworker they were expecting. Witnessing him crash his truck had been surreal. She’d seen him watching her in his side-view mirror and felt guilty for distracting him.
His dark blond sun-bleached hair and tanned body, built and muscled like a man used to physical activity—and lots of it—had her wondering just how much work she could get done in close proximity to him. He was freaking hot and she couldn’t catch her breath.
She hadn’t had a reaction to a man so deeply in over a decade. That thought turned off her come-on button like a flicked switch in a dark room.
Kyle. She’d reacted to Kyle like that once. Then he was gone. Literally. He’d been swept off her father’s fishing boat during a late-summer squall. They never recovered his body, and his death had created a living hell that had lasted years for all concerned.
Cassie hadn’t had the courage to give anyone her love since. Instead, she had plenty of casual dates. She broke hearts, unintentionally of course, but whether her emotions had shut down or she just hadn’t met anyone who invoked the same feelings she had for Kyle, she hadn’t settled with one man. At twenty-nine, Mercy Hospital’s E.R. was her life. She was happy here. She also had wonderful friends, both guys and gals, and her occasional dates seemed to be enough.
“Cassie, you okay?” The charge nurse, Rachel, frowned as Cassie approached the nursing station. “You look flustered.”
One of Cassie’s curses. Her thoughts always showed on her face. “Is John around? I’d like to take Peter Chapman home and can’t until John signs the release.”
Rachel grinned, showing the small space between her front teeth. Her smile was her signature.
“Doc is stitching up Lou Anderson again. You planning on hiding Chapman in your closet?”
She waved a hand. “Not to my home, silly woman. To the Oceanside. Besides, our new coworker is off-limits for me.”
Rachel smirked. “Are you sure? You took time from your day off just to attend to him.”
“Hey, you’d do the same.”
Rachel’s eyes narrowed. “Hmm. You looked pretty interested when Doc was cutting off his clothes.”
“Can’t fault me there. Every woman present was.”
Rachel’s gaze drifted in the direction of Peter’s room. “If I were single and younger, I’d take a chance with that one.”
“Well, then, it’s a good thing you’re not. Don’t think Huey would be too happy.”
Rachel laughed. “Huey wouldn’t take his eyes off a football game long enough to notice.”
Cassie glanced at the clock on the wall behind the nurses’ station. “When Doc finishes, send him back. He wanted to meet Peter awake.”
“Okay. I’ll cover for you if you get...delayed.”
“You have an overactive imagination, girl!”
Cassie headed for her locker, distressed by Rachel’s comment about Huey. Did she ever want to get married if long-term relationships grew stale? Definitely not.
She grabbed her purse from the locker and closed the door. Amazing how a new curiosity like Peter Chapman arriving in Montauk caused such a ruckus with her female coworkers. She’d met him first, albeit through his accident, so felt a sense of proprietary interest in him. She’d flirted with him against her better judgment because, hell’s bells, he was just too handsome to resist. After hearing the other nurses’ chatter, it was time to rely on reason and behave. Taking Peter Chapman to his hotel and leaving him there seemed like the next best thing to do.
No matter how capable Peter was, hospital rule insisted that a patient be wheeled to the door. Pushing a wheelchair toward his room, she convinced herself that if Peter’s professional bedside manner proved to be anything like his charm, they’d be working together for a long time. Might as well not ruin their budding friendship by stepping over boundaries.
She inhaled a fortifying breath and whispered, “I can do this.”
She wheeled the chair into the room to find Chapman dressed and sitting on the end of the bed, hands on his knees in easy posture, talking with John, who everyone affectionately called Doc. John was of medium height, lean, middle-aged, with a full head of russet hair and a perfectly manicured beard. Dressed in his usual white doctor coat, worn open over a blue man-tailored shirt, striped tie, jeans and well-worn cowboy boots that he insisted were more comfortable than sneakers, John had his hands hooked in his pockets as they chatted.
His smile reached his warm, brown eyes while he concentrated on what Peter was saying. Doc had been head of Mercy Hospital’s E.R. for ten years running. Before taking charge, he was a resident doctor. Cassie’s mom had worked with him before Cassie attended nursing school.
Their friendship was one of the perks of small-town living. Doc’s first wife, who was a friend of her mother’s, had died of cancer. He’d since remarried a lovely woman ten years his junior, and before becoming a nurse, Cassie had babysat their two daughters. Cassie also became friends with Ellen Bailey since she was closer to Cassie’s age than her mother’s. The two loved the beach. Wore similar clothes. Biked together early on Tuesday mornings and liked to share gossip over mocha lattes Ellen would make in her kitchen while the kids played at their feet. Such was life in a small village. You worked and played with your neighbors. The bond kept life predictable, despite the occasional drama between locals, and was especially important for a tight-knit fishing community that entertained seasonal tourism and was a haven for celebrities.
Doc waved her in. “Hey, Cassie. Peter says you’ve taken good care of him.” He gave her a pointed look. “If you’re finished, I’d say he’s ready to go.”
The heat of a blush immediately burned her cheeks. Doc was baiting her because a year ago she had dated an intern, breaking his heart so badly that he had quit and moved to the city. She had no doubt that Doc was making sure she’d leave Peter Chapman alone so he would stick around.
She waved a dismissing hand. “You did all the work, Doc. I was merely the first face he saw when he woke up.”
Doc smiled, clearly enjoying her willingness to banter even though he made his point. “Peter will make a good addition to our crew.”
She met Peter’s gaze and forced herself to breathe slowly. Doc had spoken highly of Peter when he’d decided to hire him. He’d graduated at the top of his class, spent two years working in Los Angeles and came with excellent references. Amazing that an offer for a job could be made and closed by online conferencing these days. Neither man had to spend precious time or money traveling for the interview.
Cassie had been impressed by Doc’s description of Peter’s abilities. In person, he became sheer firepower in a glance, but the real test would be watching him in action. She’d seen it before. Book smarts, no matter how impressive, paled in comparison to bedside manner, fast thinking in a crisis and an ability to get along with one’s peers. For her, the jury was still out. Sure, Peter had charm. But, could he insert an IV into an unconscious and severely dehydrated patient, or anticipate a doctor’s call for meds required for a trauma victim, or accurately assess who needed attention first when multiple trauma victims arrived at the same time? His résumé said he had the experience. Now he had to prove it. Mercy Hospital worked hard to establish its reputation as a state-of-the-art facility, especially with the celebrity population in Montauk. Cassie was curious to put him to the test before she made any definitive conclusions.
Peter pointed to the wheelchair. “I’m not riding in that thing.”
Doc clapped him on the shoulder. “Sure you are. Cassie has a license to drive wheelchairs. You’re safe in her hands.”
Peter stood. “I’m fine. No wheelchair.”
Cassie wagged a finger at him. “Now don’t be a difficult patient.”
Doc put an arm around her shoulder. “You’d better not cross her, Peter. This woman is my best nurse.”
Grateful for the compliment, especially in front of the new guy, she made light of his kind words. “John says that to all his nurses when no one else is listening.”
Doc looked at his watch. “I have to go. Cassie, when Peter comes in next week, I’d like you to show him around the E.R. I want him totally comfortable before Easter.”
One-on-one with the surfer stud. Could she handle it? Inwardly, she scoffed. Of course she could. They’d be working together now. It was just a matter of getting used to a new employee. She shot a casual look in his direction. “Think you can make the grade?”
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