Her dad dying. It was the second time she’d said it that way.
“How long were you married?”
Ava looked down, rubbed at a spot on her hand. “We weren’t, actually. Bella’s not mine. Well, she’s mine in every sense of the word that matters. Heart and soul. Her mom died right after she was born. I met Paul when Bella was one year old.”
She glanced at him quickly before her eyes drifted over to Bella. “It was one of those things that just sort of happens. We fell in love hard and fast. And then...he was gone and Bella was left with no one but me. So I adopted her. We both don’t have any family, so it was either that or foster care, and I wasn’t about to let that happen. Fortunately he’d already named me guardian if anything happened to him, which it did.” And then in a voice so low he almost didn’t hear her, and probably wouldn’t have if not for the breeze that kicked her words right to his ears, she said, “Stupid man.”
She looked sad again and he’d have to have been an unfeeling son of a gun not to ache on her behalf. Sure, he’d thought about how hard it must have been on her personally and financially, but he hadn’t given a thought to the emotional toll it’d taken on her. He might not be a father but that didn’t mean he didn’t understand how difficult it must have been for her to walk out that door every day, leave Bella with strangers, to have to split her time between being a good mom and being a good student.
“You amaze me.”
She glanced at him sharply.
He reeled himself back, having started to sink into the grief in her eyes, and he couldn’t allow himself to do that. Doctor. Mother. Grieving widow. So many reasons to steer clear.
“Must be tough on her to be without a father.”
She considered his words before saying, “She doesn’t know any different.”
“Probably not.” He watched the waves of sadness for a moment. “I guess in some ways that’s lucky. I still miss my mom every day of my life.”
“And I miss Paul.”
Thoughts of his mom made his stomach churn, too. “Well. This is a cheerful conversation, isn’t it?”
“I’m about ready to prescribe us both antidepressants.”
“Nah.” He waved toward Bella. “All you need to do is look at the smile on that girl’s face.”
She met his gaze and he saw something he didn’t expect. Hope. It was only then that he realized how deeply she buried the pain of Paul’s passing.
“Thank you.”
He pushed away from the rail, feeling the need to move again, to turn away from her, to remind himself that he was there to do a job.
“Let’s see if she’s up to a trot.”
“Oh, no. Do you have to?”
“I’ve got this.”
Her eyes were the same color as the grass behind her. “I know you do.”
Chapter 6
It had been a magical day, Ava thought as she slipped into bed that night. Special and wonderful and totally unexpected.
“Momma?”
Ava sat up in bed, switching on the light on her nightstand. Bella’s tear-stained cheeks glistened.
“Honey, what is it?” She almost got out of bed, but Bella ran over to her, all but throwing herself into her arms. “Was it the nightmare again?”
She felt rather than saw Bella nod. She nestled her chin into her hair, pulling her close. Damn it. She’d been hoping the realization of one of her dreams—horses—might give her sweet dreams. Then again, it seemed like any time Bella was overexhausted, one of the bad dreams occurred, and today had been tiring for them all.
“I don’t want to go back to my own bed.”
“Did you want to go get Balto?”
They’d decided to keep the puppy in the new kennel she’s spent a small fortune to have delivered and erected that morning. Fewer accidents that way.
“No,” Bella said. “I want to stay here.”
“Okay,” Ava said, leaning back so they could lie side by side, Bella’s teary gaze staring out at her. “You can sleep here tonight.” The little girl blinked and the sadness in her eyes broke Ava’s heart.
Bella had been so young when Paul had died, too young to remember much. She’d been told he died in an accident, but that was all she’d know until she was older, and then she’d be told the truth about the tragic climbing mishap that had taken Paul’s life.
Bella’s mind had filled in the blanks, probably thanks to all of Paul’s adventure photos she used to have around their old place, but those she hadn’t had the heart to put up when they’d moved. She’d hoped that might help, too. So far nothing had kept the bad dreams at bay, not even a therapist, and a part of Ava still worried that she’d failed Bella somehow.
“What was it this time?”
“Same,” Bella said, already seeming to get sleepy. “He was about to fall and I was trying to stop it from happening.”
The funny thing was, Bella had never been told the details of Paul’s death. A hiking accident, that’s all she knew. He’d taken a tumble and hit his head. Ava became more and more convinced that something in her two-year-old mind had understood what happened. Or maybe she’d overheard something. Ava didn’t know. She just hated the effect it had on her.
“Go to sleep now.” She pulled her closer. “I’ve got you. Nobody’s going anywhere.”
It was a familiar litany that lulled Ava to sleep, too, but when she woke in the morning her mood wasn’t as bright as it normally was. It was a school day, and a work day for her, which meant rushing around the house getting things ready for Bella and then for later that night when she’d have to come home and cook. Provided all went well at the hospital. That had her thinking of something else. Carson. Today was his pre-op. Tomorrow she’d operate on him. Another thing that stressed her out, which was super ridiculous because his surgery would be a piece of cake.
The tension in her neck didn’t abate with the passing of the morning. Not even a particularly challenging microfracture she had to repair on a kid who’d fallen off a skateboard had helped her to focus. She loved helping kids. She just wished she knew how to make her own feel better.
“Your pre-op is in room 303.”
Ava took a deep breath. “Thank you.” Still, her hand rested on the door handle a moment before pushing into the room.
And there he sat, the man who’d put a smile on her daughter’s face. Who’d lifted her kid’s spirits in ways they hadn’t been lifted in years. The man who couldn’t wait to get back on a horse and ride off into the sunset.
“You look like someone who lost their best friend.”
She had to take another deep breath before she could look him in the eyes. Yesterday, outside the arena, she’d felt something, a something that had scared her to death.
“Been a long day.” She pasted a smile on her face and, as silly as it seemed, she felt ridiculously grateful that she’d dressed the part of a doctor today: tan slacks, white lab coat, hair pulled back in a ponytail. Sure, it was her normal uniform. So what if she’d brushed on some lip gloss a few minutes ago?
“You should try living on a ranch. Sunup to sundown.”
“I’m sure.”
His smile was so much like Paul’s—part best friend, part natural-born flirt—that for a moment she couldn’t breathe. What was it with men like him? They sauntered around as if a meteorite could land on their head and not hurt them.
“It’s kind of strange for me to be sitting around so much.”
“Yeah, well, after you have surgery, no riding.”
“For how long?”
“Six weeks at best. Longer if you don’t heal as quickly as others.”
He didn’t take the news well. But then she saw his chest expand, and if she wasn’t mistaken, he might have nodded. “Okay, so what’s on the agenda today?”
“We want to make sure you’re healthy enou
gh for surgery, so we’ll be drawing some blood, checking your heart, that kind of thing.” She opened his chart on her tablet and it felt good to put her doctor hat on. “I see you’ve already had your BP and temperature taken, and that looks good.” She swiped to another page. “And the health questionnaire Laura gave you looks good. My anesthesiologist will want to talk to you before you leave, too. Surgery still looks good for tomorrow morning.” She closed his chart. “What?”
He put a brave smile on when he said, “Nothing,” but she knew better.
“Worried about surgery?”
He shook his head. But she wasn’t fooled. That was, indeed, his concern. She could see it in his eyes.
“Carson, this is about as routine a surgery as you can get. Plus, I’m a good surgeon. I even had one of the highest scores when I sat for my boards. You won’t find another surgeon as well qualified as I am.”
“It’s not really about the surgery.”
His words gave her such a sense of relief that she took stock of the reason why. She’d been afraid he might be one of those male chauvinists, the kind that might secretly want an older, male doctor to do his operation. No denying what a relief it was to realize that wasn’t the case.
“It’s that my mom died while she was under general anesthesia, and I suppose it brings back old memories.”
She caught a glimpse of rueful embarrassment before he dropped his gaze. She watched as he took a deep breath before squaring his shoulders and meeting her gaze again.
“I know it’s ridiculous. My mom was sick and I’m not, but I guess deep down inside I’m a little afraid.”
Afraid he wouldn’t wake up. She’d heard it a thousand times.
“It’s very safe. We eliminate much of the risk beforehand. That’s why we have you meet with the anesthesiologist. You’ll see. It’ll be easy.”
“I’m sure it will.”
Before she could think better of it, she reached for his hand...and immediately wished she hadn’t. It took her less than half a second to realize her touch was a little too personal. While she prided herself on her bedside manner, she tried not to cross the line.
Who was she kidding? She’d crossed the line where he was concerned days ago.
But then he pulled his hand away and, instead of feeling relief, she sensed something close to disappointment. Crazy.
“I’ll be fine,” he said with an air of bravado she knew was false. “Just nerves.”
She had a feeling it wasn’t easy for him to admit how deeply the thought of surgery affected him. That would be so typical of this type of man. They bulldozed their way through life until something reached out and slapped them down.
“We have things we can do to help you with that—your fear, I mean. Lots of people are afraid before surgery. I’ll prescribe you something.”
He looked up and met her gaze. “Thanks.”
“I promise you. Everything will be fine.”
He stared so deeply into her eyes that it felt like he touched her soul. It made her want to pull away from him.
“I’m going to hold you to that,” he said.
* * *
She’d never been such a nervous wreck. See. That was the problem with getting involved with your patients. You lost your objectivity.
“He sure is a handsome hunk of man,” said her scrub nurse as she walked into the operating room on Tuesday, her eyes above the blue mask full of amused interest. Ava just shook her head. She’d known this would happen.
His cast had been removed earlier, an ink stain marking the spot where she’d cut into his arm. She’d put a brace on his arm post-op, the kind that always reminded her of blood pressure cuffs thanks to the way it wrapped around a patient’s upper arm and lower arm, leaving the elbow section bare, save for the brace that connected all four pieces. They would need to keep it exposed so they could check his incisions.
“You think he works out?”
Okay. That did it. “He’s a patient, Nurse Bell, not a sex object.”
One of the other OR nurses, someone whose name she didn’t know, peered up at her from above her mask, her eyes wide. Dr. Hanover, her anesthesiologist, also looked up sharply.
Nurse Bell’s eyes had dimmed. “Yes, ma’am.”
And now look what she’d done. She didn’t want to be “that” doctor, the one the nurses hated to work for. She was too new to the job to be stepping on toes, no matter how right she was to point out that ogling a patient was unprofessional.
“Are we ready, Dr. Hanover?” Ava asked a few minutes later, Carson’s face covered with a laryngeal mask.
“We’re good to go,” said the older man, watching his monitors closely.
She lost herself in the delicate surgery then. It wasn’t a particularly difficult one. She’d have a much tougher one later this afternoon—a proximal femoral shaft fracture—but that didn’t mean she wasn’t just as tense and just as on edge. She knew Carson. Appreciated what he was doing for Bella, so perhaps that was why she spent more time than usual repairing his damaged bone.
“Okay. I think we’re good,” she said less than an hour later. “Dr. Hanover, you can stop the anesthesia.”
She checked the Velcro straps on his black splint, making sure it was secure enough. He’d have it on for at least a few weeks, probably more. With any luck he’d be back to riding horses in a couple months. But all in all, she was pleased with how things went. They wheeled Carson out, Ava stripping her gloves off. She’d check on him later.
But when she ducked into the recovery room after she’d washed up, he was still out cold. Sometimes that happened.
“He’s taking his sweet time opening his eyes,” the recovery room nurse said.
“Are his vitals okay?”
“They’re fine.” The nurse’s eyes twinkled. “Just as fine as he is.”
Ava bit back a retort. She’d already chastised one nurse today. She moved in a little closer.
“Carson,” she said. “You can wake up now.”
It was as if he’d been waiting for her. His eyes snapped open. She felt herself relax because, despite what she’d told Carson, there was always the fear that a patient wouldn’t wake up. Usually she didn’t think about such things, but today she had, and he’d clearly be just fine. He even tried to move. The surgery straps held him down.
The nurse stationed herself on his other side. “Mr. Gillian. I’m Nurse Diaz. I’ll be with you while you wake up. Are you cold? Do you need a blanket?”
“Who?”
“Nurse Diaz.”
“Where’s she?”
“Where’s who?” Nurse Diaz asked.
“Good-lookin’ doctor.”
Nurse Diaz snorted, pinning Ava with a stare that held amusement and maybe even a touch of envy. Ava shook her head. Patients said the damnedest things when they were coming out of anesthesia.
“She’s right there.” Nurse Diaz nodded in her direction.
Carson tried to sit up again.
“Whoa. Don’t do that.” The nurse placed a hand on his chest even though Carson couldn’t sit up. “Just relax.”
Carson’s eyes went big just before he smiled. “There she is.”
Ava tried not to laugh at the look on Carson’s face. It was as if he’d spotted his most favorite toy in the whole, wide world.
“S’pretty,” he said on his way back down.
Nurse Diaz laughed. Ava meant to shoot her a look of reprimand, but she would bet it wouldn’t come off as very authoritarian, not with the smile she tried so hard to keep off her face. Despite the fact that she knew there could never be a future with him, his words filled her with a burst of purely feminine delight.
He thought she was pretty. How nice.
“Keep an eye on him,” Ava said. “He’s a personal friend.”
The woman lifted a brow and Ava
quickly clarified. “He’s teaching my daughter how to ride.”
“Ride?” Carson tried sitting up again. “What horse’ll we ride?”
Once a cowboy, always a cowboy, she thought, turning away.
“Wait,” Carson called.
The nurse encouraged him to lie down. Carson turned his head, searching for her.
“Ava, go ride with me.”
The recovery room nurse clearly fought off laughter. Ava felt heat stain her cheeks red.
“He’s confusing me with my daughter.” Ava felt the need to explain.
“Surrrre,” drawled Nurse Diaz.
“He is,” Ava said. But it was clear Diaz was teasing her, and that was better than being afraid of her, she supposed, so she let the matter drop.
“Wait.” Carson tried to sit up again. She was almost to the door and she had no idea how he managed to undo the OR straps without the use of his right arm, but he managed to lift his shoulders enough to make eye contact again. She stopped with her hand on the door.
“I wanna date.” He fell back to the bed. “Take on a date.”
The way the nurse’s shoulders shook, and her eyes glittered, put Ava on the defense. “It’s just the anesthesia talking.” Goodness, her cheeks were probably as red as the emergency sign outside the ER.
The nurse cocked up another brow. “Best truth serum around.”
She ducked her head. The nurse chuckled softly as Ava got out of there before she lost complete control of her emotions.
He liked her. He thought she was pretty. Wanted to take her on a date. It shouldn’t matter, but for some reason it did. Maybe she hadn’t been sucked dry by her career and motherhood. It was just too bad she’d never date a man like him...no matter how tempting.
Chapter 7
What the heck had they given him?
Carson tried to keep his eyes open but couldn’t seem to do it, the room they’d parked him in so bright he had to squint against the light. His elbow hurt. And he had a splint on his arm now.
But he hadn’t died.
Even in his foggy state of mind the thought registered with such astounding clarity that he smiled. A nurse filled his vision.
Home on the Ranch: Rodeo Legend Page 5
