by Barbara Lohr
“Are you blushing?” Selena’s eyes widened.
McKenna laughed, fanning herself with a memo from her desk. “I think Logan is trying to develop a rapport with me because we have to work together. Nothing more. Kind of cute and funny in a sweet way.” She was still trying to figure him out.
“Montclair’s Hot Doc—cute and funny?” Selena hooted.
“Trust me. Hot Doc can be both.”
Sitting back in her chair, Selena propped her feet up on McKenna’s desk. “He’s over the top organized. You know that, right?”
“He’s more than that. Logan’s not at all the aloof doctor we see in the halls.”
Her friend’s forehead was furrowed with doubt.
“He's pulling together a committee to discuss improvements to the obstetrics floor. We’re not exactly together on this one.” Understatement of the year. As McKenna told Selena about the meeting, her reservations came spilling out. She really did not want to back an OB project focused only on newer technology. “That’s just not the way our practice works.”
“All the docs at Montclair know that,” Selena said with a head shake that set her curls bouncing. “Maybe Logan Castle needs reminding.”
“He means well,” McKenna added, maybe a little too quickly.
Legs stretched out, Selena looked lost in thought. “This is going to be tricky.”
“Maybe.” McKenna yawned. The thought of going head-to-head with Logan both exhausted and excited her. She glanced at the framed degrees on her wall. The elaborate scripting revealed nothing of the all-night study sessions with Selena—the pots of coffee consumed and secrets shared. Still, she held back from talking about her conflicted feelings when it came to the head of their department.
Selena checked her watch. “Why don't you go home?”
“Pretty soon.” McKenna shook herself. “Mary Pat Gregory just called about some spotting. I told Lucy to have her come right in.”
Hands on her knees, Selena shoved herself up. “Well, I'm heading out. See you tomorrow. Your brother and I are hosting a family NASCAR get-together Sunday. The usual drill. Bring your strawberry jello mold?”
“Got it.” After Selena disappeared, McKenna shuffled through her phone messages and began her call-backs.
Two calls later, Lucy, one of their medical assistants, appeared at the door. “Mary Pat’s in room four.”
“Be right there.” McKenna found her patient stretched out on the exam table, the hem of her gown fisted in tight hands.
Mary Pat raised puffy, bloodshot eyes. “I'm spotting.”
“Happens sometimes with a new pregnancy. Why don’t you tell me more? How long? And what color?” As she listened to Mary Pat’s answers, McKenna did a quick exam. Because of her age, Mary Pat was a high-risk patient, and McKenna checked out every possible cause.
“Sometimes discharge carries out residue from your last period,” she explained as she finished up. “I'm not saying that's what this is, but I don't see any problems right now. Cramping?”
Mary Pat shook her head. “And I don't think I spotted in the last hour or so,” she added, anxiety thinning her voice.
“Excellent.” McKenna helped her sit up. “Go home and relax. Have Joe order a pizza.”
Exhaling, Mary Pat sent McKenna a shaky smile. “I hope you don't think I'm an alarmist.”
“Not at all.” Heck, McKenna would be on the phone to Selena in a second if this were her. “And don't hesitate to contact me. Give me a call tomorrow to let me know how tonight goes, okay?”
By the time Mary Pat left the office, only one lamp glowed in the waiting area. Dorothy had left for the day, and McKenna closed up. Driving home, she turned Selena's comments over in her mind.
Logan might be a real challenge.
Something she’d never been able to resist.
Chapter 3
He was looking good. Sitting at the head of the table in a blue oxford cloth shirt, red striped tie and crisp white coat, Logan could have been a cover for the Chicago Magazine Hot Docs issue.
But wait. He’d already done that.
“Morning, McKenna.”
She felt that smile clear to her toes. “Dr. Castle. Um, Logan.”
His grin tweaked up as he went back to the notes in his hands.
After a few hellos, McKenna poured a cup of coffee and took a seat at the opposite end of the table. Was this polite professional at the head of the table the real Logan Castle? Maybe the Hot Doc she’d discovered at the Purple Frog had been conjured up by a few beers and some mood music. All in her head. She tried not to notice Logan’s pink cheeks, like he’d just come from a hot shower. My, her imagination was working overtime this morning. The image flooded her with heat.
Flipping open her portfolio, she wrote “LDRP Meeting” at the top of the page. She fought a smile, wondering what Logan had jotted on his notepad. Probably “New OR Equipment.”
“Ready to start?” Looking up, he shot her the same delighted grin he’d worn watching her swirl sweet potato fries in ketchup. She blushed remembering how bold she’d been.
“Whenever you are.” Nope, the rascal was for real.
Bethany, another midwife in their practice, plopped down next to her. “Hey, McKenna. Exciting, huh?”
“Time will tell.” The thought of going head-to-head with Logan, if it came to that, sent a ribbon of anxiety through her body. Downing a slug of coffee, McKenna teared up when it singed her mouth. When would she learn to take things slow?
Eric Stone, also from Logan's practice, took the seat next to Gary. Next to them was Bob McCracken, who headed up another OB GYN group at Montclair. McKenna was glad to see Regina Drury, the Vice President of Patient Care. She reported to Regina and liked the level-headed older woman who'd been recruited from a busy urban Florida hospital. If it came to a vote, Regina would probably support the LDRP proposal. Selena hurried in and, with a quick apology, took a seat between Gary and Eric, throwing McKenna a quick wink.
At promptly seven o'clock, Logan began. “Thank you all for coming. As I told you over the phone, the Montclair Foundation Board is considering shaking loose some funding for improvements in the obstetrics department. We’re here to talk about just what those upgrades might be.” He cut his words off crisply, one hand playing with his striped tie.
Hard to believe this was the same guy whose troubled eyes had wrung her heart when he mentioned being an only child. Really, what was sadder than that? She wouldn’t know what to do without her big, noisy family. He began to send information packets around the table.
Darn it. She’d meant to put together information about LDRP but it had slipped her mind.
Logan dove right in. “You have in your hands some background information on technological updates that could set the Montclair Obstetrics Department apart. Just one option for us to consider.”
Selena arched her brows, but McKenna shook her head. She’d wait her turn to explain the one-room option. She may not have a packet of information but she was pretty good at thinking on her feet. To begin, Logan fielded questions. Gary and Eric seemed familiar with the new technology, but Bob wanted to be filled in, which gave her some time. Jotting down some points, she considered how to couch the alternative option. When Logan turned to her, she was ready. “McKenna? I believe you and your group had some suggestions?”
She sucked in a deep breath. “We sure do. That is, I think I speak for the midwives.” Bethany and Selena both nodded. “We were hoping for a total reconfiguration of the floor.” The heads of the physicians came up. Forging ahead, McKenna described the concept of the labor delivery recovery and post partum unit, beginning with the multi-functional bed and concluding with the home-like furniture and hidden high-tech equipment. She would have killed for a tidy packet like the one Logan had brought but that wasn’t going to stop her. “Often times, each room has a birthing pool that can double as a jacuzzi,” she added. No sense in dancing around that detail.
“Like the birthing suite you ha
ve now?” Gary asked.
“Exactly, only this time the birthing pool would be a part of a much larger concept.”
McKenna often talked with her hands. Once or twice she found Logan following her flitting fingers, but when she mentioned the birthing pool, he tented his own hands against his lips before asking, “Would you really need one in every room?”
Taking a deep breath, McKenna nodded. “Usage is growing.”
Logan didn’t look convinced. She wanted to wave a sweet potato fry in his face again. But all she had was a mug of cold coffee. Her mouth was dry, and she took a sip.
Regina Drury leaned forward. “Let’s talk about space. The old neurology area on the eighth floor is empty now that renovation of the fourth floor has been completed. Neuro moved down to four last week. If we go ahead with this idea, the OB unit on six could continue as usual while we renovate the eighth floor. Warren might be open to that.”
McKenna could've kissed her. “What a great view of the city for our moms.”
Regina nodded. “No other OB unit in the city has that benefit.”
Logan’s flush had paled. “But that’s not patient care. It’s window dressing.”
McKenna bit back her frustration. How could she help him see this in a different light? “Isn’t anything that improves the patient experience considered patient care?”
The other doctors kept silent. Selena and Beth exchanged glances. What was McKenna missing here? The air felt charged. Out in the hall, pages came over the PA system. The hospital was gearing up for another day. They had to wrap up the meeting.
“Where do we would go from here?” Regina glanced from Logan to McKenna.
Although McKenna knew this might be the time to draw back and give Logan time to digest the information, her words came rushing out. “Although I think new technology is important, isn’t it just one piece of the birth experience?”
The only sound in the room was the low hum of the air conditioning.
“Our patients have similar needs, McKenna.” Thank goodness Gary finally spoke up. “Sure, the patients would probably like to be in one room and their families would enjoy the convenience.” Eric nodded and the two physicians looked to Logan for agreement. Two spots of color had appeared on his cheeks.
“Do we really want to tear everything up and start over?” Logan asked with a puzzled frown.
“We’re building, not tearing anything up. Sometimes it’s good to begin again.” How McKenna wished she could smooth that frown from Logan’s forehead.
“For a lot of people, it's not that simple, McKenna.” Logan’s gray eyes had turned to slate. He dealt with some difficult cases. She realized that.
Regina was sending her a message with raised eyebrows, but McKenna wasn’t going to back down. Let the silence settle. She didn’t care how uncomfortable it became. Her brothers had often coached her with “The first person who speaks in a negotiation loses.”
Oh, how she’d spoken up with Nick. Pressed him for answers. And she’d totally lost. She never wanted to feel that rejection again.
“Well, let’s pick up on this discussion next week,” Logan finally suggested. The whole room exhaled but consensus felt a long way off.
“Do you mind if I contact Jack Frazier in Marketing?” McKenna asked, slipping her pen into her portfolio. “Maybe he can find a model unit somewhere else in the country. Give us input on how an LDRP looks and functions.”
“Great idea.” Logan began stacking his notes
“What exactly does Warren need from us?” Regina asked.
“A proposal for the Board. First of all, he’d like the group to come to some agreement.” Logan checked his watch. “Looks like we’re out of time. Can we meet again next Tuesday? My office will send out an agenda. We have to move this along.”
Heads nodded. Gary's pager went off and he stepped out into the hallway. Bob and Eric picked up their packets and followed him. Draining the last drop of cold coffee from her cup, McKenna was determined not to wrangle about this in front of the committee. Somehow she had to connect with the fun-loving guy she’d laughed with at the Purple Frog.
Just for business purposes, of course.
As she was leaving the conference room, her phone went off. It was Brody Lightcap, one of the ER docs. “McKenna, one of your patients was just admitted. Mary Pat Gregory. Heavy bleeding.”
“On my way. And Brody, I’ll need the ultrasound equipment.”
“You got it.” Clutching her phone after she ended the call, she hesitated. Gary usually provided backup for any surgical needs, but he’d been called away. The other docs were gone. Only Logan was still here, scrolling through messages. “Logan, can you come with me to check out a patient in the ER?”
“Of course.” Sliding his phone neatly into his upper pocket, he matched her stride as they headed for the elevator. On the way down to the ground floor and the ER, she filled him in on Mary Pat's medical history. When they reached the Emergency Room, Logan quickly pulled up the electronic medical record and began scrolling through it.
All hell broke loose when the outside doors crashed open. Ambulance personnel pushed two gurneys into the department, rattling off information to waiting ER staff. From the look of the casualties, these were crash victims. One flash of reddish hair and she knew her brother Seth was part of the Emergency Medical Transport team. Before dashing back outside, he turned and gave her a quick wave.
“Friend of yours?” Logan asked.
“Brother. One of the many.”
“Right. The Kirkpatrick clan.” He closed out of the document. While the ER staff assigned the patients to the glass cubicles that lined the hall, McKenna and Logan made their way to number four.
Mary Pat lay with eyes closed, hands folded over her chest. A nurse had started an IV and Brody had just brought in the ultrasound machine. McKenna’s heart twisted as she bent over the bed. This never got easier. “Mary Pat?”
When her patient’s eyes fluttered open, they were dark with apprehension. “Am I losing the baby?”
“Let’s see what’s going on,” McKenna reassured her, snapping on her gloves and smoothing gel on Mary Pat’s tummy. While Logan hovered at the end of the bed, McKenna grabbed the wand from Brody “Dr. Castle is here with me in case we need him.”
But as she guided the wand over Mary Pat's abdomen, McKenna’s heart sank. No heartbeat. No movement.
“McKenna? Is it bad?”
She turned. “I’m sorry, Mary Pat. So sorry.”
“Oh, God.” Flinging one arm over her eyes, Mary Pat began to sob. Because of her age, she’d been wildly excited on her first appointment. McKenna knew how much this baby meant. Putting the equipment aside, McKenna squeezed Mary Pat’s hand. Every loss like this felt so personal, as if she’d lost her own baby.
After a quick exam, McKenna moved back to the head of the bed. “Mary Pat, we have to get to the OR.”
“Joe? Has he gotten here yet from work?”
“I’ll check. You’re almost fully dilated, Mary Pat, and you’re losing a lot of blood. We have to move.”
“Okay, fine. Joe is going to kill me. He didn't want me to go running, but I've always run. It relaxes me.”
Running? McKenna’s mind flew back to her final instructions the day before. What exactly had she said? Go home and relax. Guilt swept her stomach in a sickening wave. Clinically, she knew that sometimes bleeding just happened. The running may have not been a factor.
McKenna’s mind raced while Logan asked Mary Pat a few questions. He had a great bedside manner, almost as if he were dealing with a family member. “We’re going to get you ready, Mary Pat. Let me know if you have questions.”
After Logan left to call the OR, McKenna tried her best to calm Mary Pat. Without giving her the old “You can always have more children,” she wanted her to go into the procedure with some hope in her heart. When Brody came back in the room with a nurse who would handle the transport, McKenna stepped into the hall. She pulled up the medi
cal record and reviewed the notes Logan had just written. The heavy bleeding probably indicated a ruptured placenta.
Sometimes placentas healed if the tear was slight and early in the pregnancy. Not in this case. The rupture might have happened before or after the fetus lost viability. McKenna’s own heart tore a little as she closed out of the document. A nurse appeared with Joe Gregory in tow, pale skin stretched tight across his cheekbones.
“Mary Pat’s experiencing some heavy bleeding. She’s fine but we have to get her to the OR.”
Joe’s face contorted. “But we’re past the three month mark. We’re safe now, right?”
She guided him into one of the consult rooms and closed the door. “I’m afraid the baby’s gone, Joe.”
Joe’s disbelief turned to horror. “What?”
“I’m so sorry.” She remembered how thrilled he’d been at the first clinic appointment. So proud to finally be a father. “How can that be?”
She took him through the clinical facts she always gave a spouse in a case like this. When she finished, Joe still stared at her with empty eyes. “We should go up now,” she said. Logan would be scrubbing down and she wanted to join him.
After taking Joe to the waiting room, McKenna met up with Logan in surgery. Leaning against the cold stainless steel sink in the scrub room, she said, “Okay if I scrub in?” Gary Rice never had a problem with it, but she’d never worked with Logan.
“Of course. She’s your patient.” As Logan pulled up his face mask, his eyes softened. “Sorry, McKenna.”
“Part of the job, isn’t it?”
His jaw hardened. “Not the part we enjoy.”
“You got that right.” As she suited up and scrubbed down, McKenna sucked in deep breaths, trying to ease the heaviness in her heart. She’d become a midwife for the sheer joy of helping build healthy families. Working with a couple to heal this type of hurt was part of her profession. The part she always had trouble with.
In the OR Logan worked with calm certainty. As she assisted, McKenna had to continually remind herself that Mary Pat and Joe would have another chance to have the family they’d always envisioned. But there were no guarantees. Her own siblings were proof of that. Her older brother Connor and his wife Amanda were having a terrible time conceiving.
