But when he told her she needed to consider first what the future may have in store for her, a small, hopeful part of him knew he was talking about them.
A future for him and Willow?
Enticing, but not possible.
To say he didn't miss her all afternoon would have been a lie. He'd grown accustomed to having her by his side. Grown accustomed to her occasional touch. And her sultry glances. Hell, he even missed her huffiness whenever she didn't like what he had to say. What nurse—what woman—had the spunk to stand up to him?
Only Willow.
Warmth seeped through his heart at the very thought of her. He needed to see if she was all right. His lectures over, he went in search of her at the reception desk and found Emmy hanging up from a phone call.
"Willow isn't here," Emmy said with barely a glance to him.
"Who said I was looking for her?" he asked.
"You didn't have to say it."
"Then how do you know?" he challenged.
She scrutinized him. "Because you have that lost look on your face whenever she isn't within grabbing distance of you." Emmy looked at him expectantly.
"I don't know what you're talking about." His words stuttered. This nurse barely ever said two words to him and yet her statement was so boldly true. "Okay, yes, I've come to depend on her, so do you know where—"
"She's with your baby."
"Excuse me?"
"You know, the one you keep leaving anonymous gifts for when you think no one's looking."
Shayne clenched his jaw to keep it from gaping open. "Again, Emmy, I have no idea—"
"Dr. Edwards, nothing gets by me on this floor. Don't worry, I can keep a secret." Her demeanor appeared casual, but her airy tone proved she enjoyed having something on him.
Normally, a cutting retort to send her scurrying would be his response. But she'd caught him off guard. Was he going soft? Then again, she was Willow's friend. He cared about Willow and now found himself caring about how he treated Emmy. Damned to hell. He was, indeed, going soft.
"All right, all right. Guilty as charged," he growled as he glanced over his shoulder to be sure no one was eavesdropping. "So, we'll keep this between ourselves, right?"
"Yes, doctor." She broke character by smirking.
"Now, about Baby Jack. Has he been moved to the Step Down Unit yet?"
"Yes, Willow is there with him now. She personally saw to the move. Your baby is doing well."
* * *
Shayne's thoughts skipped ahead to Willow as he went in search of her and their baby—or rather, her soon-to-be-adopted baby. He shook off the jumbled thoughts and concentrated on navigating the maze of hallways and wings. He eventually entered the Step Down Unit and stopped short.
What he saw before him sent his senses into overdrive.
A sweet vision in pink scrubs, Willow sat in a white rocking chair, cradling the baby in her arms. Seeing the swaddled bundle in her loving embrace set thrumming the heartstrings he'd forgotten he had. She looked so right, so at home holding that child. How did he ever question her decision to become Baby Jack's mother? Nothing could be more natural. More perfect. He watched in admiration as Willow gazed with love down on the infant. An inner light radiated from her, casting a halo of warmth about the two of them. Her tender murmurs bathed the infant in love. Yes, definitely love.
He could feel the love.
In silence, he continued to watch. Willow, so engrossed in loving the baby, didn't notice his arrival at first. Just then, she looked up as though in anticipation of him, attuned to his nearness. Remarkable. How did she do that? How did she sense his very presence? Her gaze settled on his.
"Shayne," she whispered through smiling lips.
He could hear the love.
His breath caught; a band of heat constricted his chest. Willow's look alone revealed how she felt about him. A response identical to his own.
He loved her.
The realization startled him, infused him with conflicting thoughts and emotions, attacking his sensibilities. All this time, his head had warred with his heart over how he truly felt about her. In this moment, his heart won out—he loved her. But on the heels of that admission came the doubt. Was he worthy of Willow's love?
After so much betrayal in his past he didn't see how he could be trusted with such a tender soul. But he couldn't think of it now. Instead, he pushed aside the doubt and put all of his energies into enjoying the tender scene before him. Even if for just a little while.
He approached her, bringing his hand to her shoulder. "Under normal circumstances I'd say it was too soon to be holding our little guy, but I also believe a loving embrace goes a long way in one's healing."
"He's doing so well. I couldn't be happier. I'm so grateful you're here to help him—"
"And I'm grateful you're here to heal him."
The baby cooed, an amazing feat given the traumatic events of his life. Shayne drew his attention to the little tiger. Good thing Willow would be there for him.
"Willow, about our discussion in the Serenity Garden. Please know, my heart was in the right place."
"Yes, I know. And I'm glad we talked. Sharing your story made me realize something."
"Oh? And what is that?"
"I want to adopt Baby Jack more than ever."
Willow's mettle brought out a smile from him. "I wouldn't have expected anything less."
His past had caused him to turn his back on the idea of family whereas Willow's past caused her to embrace it. She had much more courage than he ever could when taking such a leap. He wanted to embrace her for her brave decision to become a mother. But given the fragile state of their relationship, he only gave her an affectionate stroke along her shoulder. For now.
"You'll make a wonderful mum."
"I think so." She showed an eagerness that he appreciated. "The paperwork has been pushed through. Everything looks good. Now, I just wait for the final documents."
He was indulging in the tender moment when his pager beeped. He assessed the message. His blood ran cold.
With a grim expression, he said, "Willow, they need us in the main ER. They're even pulling nurses off the floors."
"What?" Willow whispered. "They never do that."
"The loss of life could be tremendous."
After all, the emergency code came across loud and clear.
Disaster with mass casualty.
* * *
Willow burst through the ER doors and into an eruption of activity. Doctors and nurses in full force responded to the onslaught of injured victims. Her first disaster-response at Baycoast Memorial. She'd trained for a crisis of this caliber all year, serving on a team to answer the rare call, yet no drill or procedure could fully prepare her for the real thing.
Emmy passed by in a whir. "Grab a live one and sort through what you can."
"What are we up against?" Willow called out.
"Multi-car pileup on the highway, including a school bus full of kids," Emmy called back over her shoulder. "They're coming in droves."
A surge of dread shot through Willow. She assessed her surroundings to acclimate herself as quickly as possible. The main ER was wild enough and she didn't need to add to the drama by messing up the workflow.
When Willow first started working at Baycoast Memorial, Emmy had told her about the occasional car pileup in the area. Often due to fire weather—dry conditions mixed with sudden wild thundershowers. A single lightning strike could set fire to dry brush, billowing out smoke onto the nearby highway, creating a wall of white.
The tropical depression still hovering off the coast of Florida wasn't helping matters. While the weather locally had been balmy and sunny the past few days, it was really just the calm before the storm. She knew the unstable weather in the Gulf of Mexico had triggered a domino effect in the bay area from scattered storms to fog. When foggy weather combined with smoke, unsuspecting motorists faced treacherous driving conditions.
But a school bus full of
kids took this tragedy to a whole new level.
Willow lost track of Dr. Edwards as she jumped in assisting where she could. Fortunately, initial injuries had been minor and sent to Triage. But as the hour moved on, someone periodically announced the rising death toll as casualties rolled in along with the more seriously injured. Willow could only focus on the living, saving what lives she could. During times of high duress, she—like most nurses—operated on sheer adrenaline, tapping into her past training to jump into the fray with her head on straight.
The next few hours passed at breakneck speed. Tensions rose but all the while, staff operated in high-octane mode. Willow caught an occasional glimpse of Dr. Edwards as he flew by, tending to victims.
Willow had been holding her own through the last of the injured patients, until an emergency room doctor recognized her from Pediatrics. He ordered her to assist a young pregnant mother just brought in on a stretcher.
Drenched in sweat, the soon-to-be mother was panting in pain. Between short breaths, she shouted her worries about her twin babies.
In one ear, Willow listened to the paramedic's account; the young woman been trapped in her compact vehicle for too long in the middle of the pileup. The impact of crashing into a semi had caused trauma to her body. Her womb reacted by releasing the twin fetuses, sending her into early labor. Too early—way too early. And too fast to even start the emergency C-section. Willow couldn't clean up the blood fast enough. She couldn't save the twins. She couldn't hold the grieving mother in her arms long enough.
When Connie from Social Services came to provide grief counseling, Willow took her cue and left. As she stepped into the hospital corridor, she could still hear the young woman's tearful cries. Emmy came from the other way, looking frazzled but still in control.
"What a nightmare," she bellowed, but then took a second look at Willow. "How are you doing, hon? You okay?"
"The mother, who went into early labor, survived. But her twins... I lost them." Willow rubbed away the wetness from her aching eyes.
Emmy rubbed Willow's arms. "I'm sorry to hear that. You did what you could."
"Wasn't enough." A small sob escaped her.
"You attempted the impossible. Those babies need to be in God's safe hands, whether you wanted them to be or not."
"I let them die." She took a shuddered breath as she tried to reign in her grief.
"No, you helped a mother live. You'll see what I mean after a good night's sleep. Your shift ended a long time ago. Now go home."
"I'm going to stay. Dr. Edwards might need me—"
"He'll be fine. He'll survive without you."
"But what if Shayne—"
"Shayne? That's it. I'm pulling rank on you. I'm ordering you to go home."
"C'mon, Emmy, don't do this."
"I'll write you up, you know I will."
Willow stared at her friend in annoyance. She'd be more irritated with her if she weren't so drained. Emmy as a friend and Emmy as a nurse had a great divide. She knew to heed the warning.
"Fine, I'll go. But I don't have to like it."
With a huff, Willow trudged off toward the nurse's station to gather her things. As she headed down a quiet corridor, fatigue settled in. The all-business airs she'd put on to get through the traumas of the day also wore off. Swift memories of the disaster accosted her. Alarms filling the air. Patients crying in pain. Staff rushing. And ultimately, holding in her arms an inconsolable mother.
Willow tried to push away that final memory and the helplessness it evoked. She'd done what she could to stay strong. But now, all she could think about was that poor mother after she'd lost her twin babies. An echo of emotion haunted Willow, an internal heart sob over a similar loss she'd grown all too familiar with.
Willow halted in the corridor. Her breathing grew labored. Couldn't catch a deep breath. Couldn't keep the panic at bay. Thoughts of the devastated mother mixed with her own sense of loss from her past became too heavy to bear. She had to get some air fast. She escaped out the first exit door she saw and sought solace in the Serenity Garden at the back of the hospital. She needed the peaceful reprieve before heading home. But even the garden, with its abundance of roses and azaleas amid statues in the twilight, did little to alleviate her delayed reaction to the final crushing event she'd just experienced.
Willow halted in the middle of the labyrinth, trying to inhale the sea air mixed with a floral aroma to keep the panic at bay. Trying to stop the sweeping memories of her losses and that of the young mother's. Her eyes burned as she fought the mosaic of images piercing her. The blood loss. The mother's cries. The babies that went silent.
"Willow?"
With a sharp turn, she found herself staring into Shayne's tired eyes. The early evening's events had taken their toll on him, as well.
"I couldn't save them," she uttered.
"You did everything you could for all those trauma victims."
"No, I mean, the babies. I couldn't save any one of them."
"You tried. I saw you try to save that mother's babies."
"No, not hers. Mine." She choked on the words.
Surprise broke through Shayne's fatigued expression.
"Talk to me."
"I lost my babies, Shayne. All three of them. I've never carried to term. And today I lost those twins. I wish I could change things, but I can't."
She willed herself not to burst into all-out tears, because if she did...
No. She'd have none of it.
Willow raised a brave chin to him. "My husband walked out on me the day I'd lost our last child. He wanted no part of it. Not marriage, not family, and certainly not me."
Shayne didn't move. He didn't lean in to comfort her or ask about a medical diagnosis. And most surprisingly, he didn't turn tail and run. He did exactly what she needed him to do; he stood there listening.
"Remember when you asked me about my OR experience? In Boston, I was in the middle of surgery when I had my last miscarriage. I just kept right on working—in complete denial. I couldn't believe, nor accept, it was happening again—until I collapsed on the floor. Yep, I just dropped right there. What the hell is wrong with me?"
She spun away, unable to face Shayne's reaction. She wanted to leave the sanctuary of the garden. Couldn't be near Shayne after confessing something so intimate to him. If she stayed in his presence a moment longer, she feared she might crumble into his arms and beg him to hold her forever.
She marched off through the garden's wandering path.
"Willow," Shayne said before she got too far. But she continued to abandon him there amid the profusion of roses and azaleas.
"Come on, Willow. You can't always run away from me," Shayne called out.
Before she could increase her distance, a strong hand curled itself around her arm. Shayne drew her back to him. "And you certainly can't just march off after saying something like that to me."
She searched his eyes, their intensity overwhelming.
"I didn't realize this was about you," she said.
"Of course it's not, but after what you've just been through back there—after what you've been through in your life—I have to know if you'll be okay."
That very same question had been haunting her for a year. Would she ever be okay with constant reminders surrounding her of what she could never have on her own, or the deadly consequences if she ever had the audacity to try again? She attempted to nod, feign a bravado to convince him she would be fine, but simply couldn't.
"Is anyone ever the same after living through losing a child?" she asked.
The question had Shayne gripping both of her arms, setting a grim look on her. "No, I don't believe so. You and I are kindred spirits in that regard."
Feeling his hands on her body sent a crashing wave of release through her. A release of built-up tension she'd been carrying for far too long. She sank into him, needing to be held. He captured her in his embrace, hugging her in silence.
"Come on, I want you stay with me
tonight."
"No, I can't. I have to..." she began to say from sheer habit of denying her feelings for this man.
"I insist. You shouldn't be alone. You're exhausted. Overwhelmed. You always take care of everyone else. A car service will be here for me any minute. Come. Let me take care of you just this once."
With his strong arms around her, she found herself surrendering to the idea. For the first time in a long time, she wanted to relinquish her courageous front and allow her vulnerable side to break through.
Yes, she would let Shayne take care of her, even if just for tonight.
Chapter 13
Willow sat with Shayne in the backseat of the town car as the driver headed toward Shayne's place. Silence fell between them, a much needed respite from the afternoon spent in the main ER. The quiet left her to her own thoughts. Thoughts about Shayne and what he'd come to mean to her.
Things had certainly changed between them. They'd been changing all along, ever since he first walked into her life as her boss. Their relationship had gone beyond the previous kisses she'd never meant to share. She'd opened up her heart to him, an act more intimate than any kiss. When she'd told him about losing her babies, she'd revealed a tragic weakness, an irreparable hole in her soul.
And now armed with the knowledge, Shayne could destroy her with it.
What had gotten into her?
She'd had a weak moment when the reality of losing those twins and consoling the distraught mother had struck her hard. Oh, that poor mother. Willow swallowed back the regret over leaving the hospital on Emmy' orders. No final check-ins with patients—not even the young mother who'll never know those children. How could she leave behind that woman, aching and childless, back there? Life's cruel hand had determined the woman's fate, no matter what Willow did. Why hadn't she refused Emmy and insisted on staying with her?
Playboy Doctor (Heartthrob Heroes, Book 2) Page 11
