by Radclyffe
While holding Quinn’s hand, Honor observed everything the EMTs did, even though she knew they were well trained to handle that kind of emergency. She walked alongside the stretcher and climbed into the back of the van, and, despite her anxiety, she allowed them to do their job as they traveled the short distance to the hospital. Once in the ER, she directed members of her staff to get the equipment she needed as the EMTs wheeled Quinn through the hall to the procedure room.
As was so often the case after the event was over, by the time Quinn was settled onto the exam table, she felt close to normal. The IV that the EMTs had started was taped to her right arm. Her shirt was off and EKG leads were spread across her chest. The portable monitor by her bedside beeped with comforting regularity, and the tracing appeared normal. But just as Honor walked into the room, the EKG monitor gave a series of rapid beats, and Quinn felt a fluttering sensation in her chest. The same flutter that had preceded her collapse at the field. Both she and Honor stared at the monitor. Several misplaced beats skittered across the screen, and then the steady pattern returned.
“Something’s wrong, Quinn,” Honor said quietly, a rhythm strip from the electrocardiogram in her hand. “And I’m not so certain it’s your heart. You are having irregular beats, but they look almost as if the defibrillator and not your cardiac muscle is triggering them. I think you’re going to need the device replaced.”
“It certainly malfunctioned this afternoon.” Quinn took a deep breath and met Honor’s troubled gaze. “I felt the run of V-tach, and I could tell the defibrillator didn’t fire. I only had a few seconds before...” Before I went out. She shivered. “It didn’t pace me.”
“I know, baby.” Honor reached for Quinn’s hand and squeezed it gently. “But you’re being monitored now, and we’ll keep monitoring you until we get this fixed.” Then she said what she knew Quinn wouldn’t want to hear. “I want to admit you to a telemetry floor until I can get one of the cardiac surgeons in to see you.”
“I’d rather go back to Manhattan and let my cardiologist there deal with it.”
“I understand, but you’re too unstable to travel.” Just saying the words was enough to bring a surge of nausea roiling through Honor’s stomach. Now that the immediate crisis was over, she couldn’t prevent the enormity of what had nearly happened from penetrating her consciousness. She almost died. I almost lost her out there.
“I don’t intend to lose you, Quinn,” Honor said quietly. “I love you.”
“You certainly can pick your moments, Dr. Blake.” Quinn’s voice was gentle, her eyes soft with longing.
Honor bit her lip, suddenly terribly afraid that she would cry. She swallowed and forced a smile. “You tend to disrupt my timing.”
“Would you agree to me going to Manhattan if I went by ambulance?” Quinn took a deep breath, wishing she didn’t have to explain. “If they need to reposition the leads, it’s going to be tricky. They had problems with that the first time.”
“What kind of problems?” Honor’s voice was flat, her eyes betraying none of her apprehension.
“They triggered a run of V-fib and I...ah, Christ...I arrested during the procedure.”
“I see.” Refusing to allow the horror of that statement to penetrate her consciousness, Honor calculated the options. The period when Quinn might suffer a potentially fatal arrhythmia was the time up to and including the surgery. “All right. I’ll call your cardiologist now and find out if he can line up the surgeons for you right away. If he can, we’ll transport you this afternoon. But if he can’t, and there’s going to be any kind of delay, we’re not waiting.”
“Agreed.” Before Honor could turn away, Quinn grasped her hand. “I love you, Honor. I love you, and I love Arly. It’s going to be okay.”
Honor leaned down and kissed Quinn tenderly on the mouth. When she drew away, she whispered, “I love you. And we’re going to get through this.”
Chapter Thirty-One
“ETA—five minutes.”
Leaning against the partition separating the driver’s space from the treatment area in the EMS truck, Honor nodded wearily. “Thanks.”
Quinn was beside her, lying on the narrow portable stretcher, EKG leads still attached. She’d slept through most of the ninety-minute ride.
“Honey?” Honor brushed a hand over Quinn’s hair. “We’re nearly there.”
“Yeah, I heard him.” Quinn turned to search her lover’s face. “Once I get settled, you can go ho—”
“We’ve already had this conversation,” Honor said gently. “I’m not leaving you. If they do the procedure this afternoon, we’ll be able to go home tomorrow. Arly’s fine with Phyllis for one night.”
“I know that, I just thought...” I just thought it would be easier on you if you didn’t have to wait in the hospital. You’ve got to be thinking about Terry now.
Honor leaned close so that the EMT, who was strapped into the small pull-down seat at the other end of the van, wouldn’t hear them. Her voice was a whisper of steel. “What did you think, Quinn, when you made it impossible for me not to fall in love with you? Did you think that I would leave the first time we ran into a problem? Any kind of problem?”
Quinn opened her mouth to answer, but it was a full minute before she actually spoke. “I wanted you so much that I refused to think about what might happen if...this happened.” She looked stricken. “That wasn’t very fair, was it?”
“Oh, Quinn,” Honor said with a sigh and an affectionate shake of her head. “Fair has nothing to do with it. Life isn’t fair. Love isn’t fair.” She traced her fingers over Quinn’s cheek. “But when love is good, it’s everything. And I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Quinn reached for Honor’s hand and held tightly. She was scared. Less scared of dying than she’d ever been, but more frightened than she’d imagined possible at the thought of not having the chance to live her life with Honor. “And I’m very glad you’re here.”
“Good. Then stop trying to get rid of me.”
The ambulance slowed and had barely come to a halt before the rear double doors opened. Honor was surprised when a lean, dark-haired woman in navy blue scrubs climbed into the van, ignoring the EMT, and crouched down by Quinn’s side.
“Christ, Maguire. What have you gotten yourself into now?”
Then the woman reached out to the portable EKG machine and pushed a button. After twenty seconds, she tore off the rhythm strip that had scrolled from the machine and glanced at it. “This doesn’t look bad enough to call out the troops. Getting soft in that cushy new job of yours?”
“Excuse me,” Honor said coldly. “But I think it might be prudent to move Dr. Maguire into the emergency room where she can be properly monitored.”
The newcomer gave Honor an appraising stare and a raised eyebrow. Honor returned the stare while a muscle jumped along the edge of her jaw.
Before fireworks could erupt, Quinn made hasty introductions. “Dr. Saxon Sinclair, Dr. Honor Blake, the chief of emergency services at PMC. Honor is—”
“Her lover,” Honor said succinctly. She leaned around Quinn’s previous chief and said to the technician, “Let’s move her, shall we.”
“It’s a pleasure, Dr. Blake.” Sax gave Quinn an approving grin and got out of the way.
“Take her into the trauma bay, guys,” Sax instructed as the group proceeded toward the hospital. She glanced at Quinn. “When Caroli called and said you were on your way up, I got Wisnicki on the phone. He’s waiting upstairs in the OR in case it looks like that pacer has to be changed.”
“Is that the cardiac surgeon?” Honor took rapid stock of Saxon Sinclair. In many ways, she resembled Quinn. They were both dark haired, blue eyed, and aggressively good looking, and both had that classic surgical air of competence bordering on arrogance. Sinclair was fundamentally different from Quinn, however. The first thing Honor remembered noticing about Quinn was the unusual core of tranquility beneath her assertive exterior. It was one of the things she loved about
her, that calm, steady certainty. In contrast, Sinclair radiated so much electricity that Honor was surprised her skin wasn’t tingling. The air around the surgeon seemed to vibrate with the force of her energy. “He’s the best you have?”
“He’s the best on the East Coast.” Sax led the way into her trauma unit and supervised Quinn’s transfer to the examining table. A blond man in scrubs appeared at her side. “Aaron, draw the routine bloods on her and let’s get a chest x-ray stat. I had her old films brought down for comparison. Put those up on the view box for me as soon as you get a chance, will you?”
“Sure, Doc.”
“I have her records from Philadelphia with me,” Honor said, handing the oversized envelope to the trauma surgeon.
“Thanks.” Sax favored her with a grin. “What’s your assessment?”
“Anybody interested in my opinion?” Quinn asked, leaning up on her elbows on the stretcher.
Honor and Sax turned and spoke as one. “No. Just lie still.”
The two women looked at each other and laughed.
“Perfect,” Quinn grumbled. But, relieved to see that the woman she loved and the woman she respected unconditionally appeared to be getting along, she relaxed and settled back down.
“Let me show you the traces we have from this afternoon and a few weeks ago,” Honor said, walking to the counter against the far wall that served as a desk.
While Honor and Sax talked, Dr. Caroli, Quinn’s cardiologist, arrived. The three doctors reviewed the serial EKGs as well as the chest x-rays, and eventually, Honor returned to Quinn’s side.
“Your cardiologist thinks that the leads are out of position,” Honor said quietly. She took Quinn’s hand and held it gently. “So do I. Probably from that fall you took the day you injured your shoulder. He wants to reposition the leads and change the battery unit, too, just to be safe.”
Quinn closed her eyes for a second, then took a deep breath. When she met Honor’s gaze, her expression was resolute. “Okay. Sounds like a plan. When?”
At that moment, Sax walked up to the bed. “Now. I thought I’d give Wisnicki a hand. Keep him honest.”
“Probably not a bad idea,” Quinn said, a rush of gratitude causing her to choke slightly on the words. She cleared her throat. “He’s probably in a rush to get back to the golf course. With you watching, he’s not as likely to forget to attach something important.”
“Not to worry.” Sax grinned and squeezed Quinn’s shoulder. “Besides, if he’s too slow, I’ll do it myself so you won’t miss dinner tonight.”
Honor watched the trauma surgeon saunter out, then looked at Quinn with some concern. “She won’t really take over the case, will she?”
Quinn hesitated.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Honor muttered. “I don’t know how you turned out so sane being trained by that maniac.” Nevertheless, she felt strangely comforted by Saxon Sinclair’s presence. She could feel the woman’s love for Quinn, and that was all she needed to know. Quinn would be taken care of when Honor couldn’t be there to do it herself.
“You ready to go, Quinn?” Aaron, the trauma nurse, asked.
Honor helped gather up Quinn’s records and walked beside the stretcher with her hand on Quinn’s shoulder as Aaron directed the moving bed unerringly through hallways resembling obstacle courses toward the elevator.
“Hey!” a lithe, strikingly attractive redhead called as she hurried down the hall toward them. Breathless, she skidded to a stop beside the stretcher, leaned down, and kissed Quinn soundly on the mouth. “God, I thought I’d missed you. How’re you doing, sweetheart?”
“I’m fine.” Quinn grinned. “It’s not that serious. The medical people are just fussing.”
Honor made a sound resembling a growl.
Quinn reached for Honor’s hand and smiled. “Honor, this is Jude Castle, Sax’s partner. Jude, Honor Blake.”
Honor extended her hand as they all crowded into the elevator. “Pleased to meet you.”
Jude took Honor’s hand and tilted her head pensively. “You came up with Quinn from Philadelphia?”
“Yes.” Honor smiled down at Quinn. “She seems to have stolen my heart.”
“Wonderful,” Jude exclaimed as the elevator doors opened. She turned at the sound of someone calling her name, and her eyes took on a warm, tender glow. “Hello, Dr. Sinclair.”
Honor wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t witnessed it: a fleeting stillness came over the hyperdynamic Saxon Sinclair as she looked at Jude Castle, and an expression of deep peace eclipsed her features. Then Sinclair grinned, and the spell dissolved.
“I’m glad you made it,” Sax said to Jude, brushing her fingers over Jude’s shoulder and down her back. Then she turned her attention to her former trauma fellow. “We’re all set, Quinn. Time to saddle up.”
“Just a second,” Quinn replied. She tugged Honor’s hand and drew her close. “This isn’t a big deal. I’ll be fine. I love you.”
Honor kissed Quinn firmly, then brought her mouth close to Quinn’s ear. “You have to be fine, Quinn. Arly and I love you. And we need you.” She straightened and brushed her fingers through Quinn’s hair tenderly. “I’ll see you in a little while, baby.”
“Yeah,” Quinn said through a throat tight with longing. “See you soon.”
Then Saxon Sinclair took hold of the side of the stretcher and pulled it toward the automatic doors that opened into the operating room on the other side. Honor watched until the doors slowly swung closed and Quinn was gone.
“Can I get you anything? Something to eat or a cup of coffee?” Jude Castle offered.
Honor smiled wearily and shook her head. “No, thanks.” She glanced at her watch and saw with amazement that it was after six p.m. She hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast, but she wasn’t hungry. Quinn had been gone just over an hour.
“Wisnicki is apparently a fabulous surgeon, and Sax is with him. Believe me, she won’t let anything happen to Quinn,” Jude said softly.
“Dr. Sinclair does seem to inspire confidence,” Honor remarked wryly. When she isn’t being completely aggravating.
Jude smiled this time, a fond, indulgent smile. “She’s actually as good as she thinks she is.”
“Right now, that’s very encouraging to hear, although you might be just a little bit prejudiced.”
“I might be, if I hadn’t spent a year watching her work. I’m crazy in love with her, but I’m not exaggerating about her skill.”
“I saw some of the documentary that you filmed here. It was very good work.” Honor found that the distraction of casual conversation helped her almost ignore the undercurrent of fear that rippled and swelled with each breath. She hated that Quinn was somewhere she couldn’t see her. Couldn’t take care of her. She knew it was irrational, but she couldn’t bear to think that Quinn might slip away, and she might not be there to stop it. She shivered. I couldn’t bear to lose you. I just couldn’t.
“Thanks.” Jude wanted to do something to comfort the other woman, because it was impossible not to see her pain and fear. “You’re Quinn’s boss, aren’t you?”
“Technically, yes, but I’d say that we’re more colleagues than anything else.” Honor glanced toward the operating room doors as if Quinn might walk through them at any moment. Her voice was distant. “Other than lovers. God, I hate this.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
Honor gave the redhead an appreciative glance. “It helps that you’re here to keep me company. I could tell that Quinn was glad to see you, too.”
“We’re both very fond of her. Sax always has terrific fellows, but Quinn is special. I was very sorry that she couldn’t stay...” Jude laughed softly. “But it seems that it’s worked out for the best. I’m so happy that the two of you are together.”
“Yes. So am I.”
“I’m sure she’s—” Jude looked up as the doors whooshed open and Sax strode out.
Honor got immediately to her feet and took two steps fo
rward, her eyes riveted to Sax’s face. There was nothing else in the world except Saxon Sinclair’s eyes, steady and strong and sure.
“Is she—”
“Fine. She’s fine.” Sax’s voice was as certain as her expression. She took Honor’s arm, cupping her hand beneath Honor’s elbow. “Come over here so I can fill you in.”
Unexpectedly, Honor was light-headed. Her knees were weak, and she leaned slightly against the surgeon, grateful for the firm hand to support her. “She’s awake? Her heart?”
“Sit down,” Sax repeated gently, guiding Honor to one of the well-worn chairs in the waiting area. Once Honor was settled, Sax pulled over another chair so that they were eye to eye. “Wisnicki replaced the leads and the battery pack. No problems. But I’ve got even better news.”
In that moment, Honor was no longer a doctor, merely a terrified loved one who needed reassurance and the belief that this doctor would somehow answer her prayers. She couldn’t take her eyes from Sax’s.
“Since Quinn was being monitored and we could handle any arrhythmias that might come up, the cardiologist did an electrical mapping. Her heart’s much better than it was six months ago. The focus of irritability is very small.”
Honor closed her eyes and lowered her head. “Oh, thank God.”
Sax looked across the room toward Jude and motioned for something to drink. Jude signaled her understanding and rose quickly. Then Sax leaned forward and rested her fingertips lightly against Honor’s knee. “She might not even need the defibrillator, but Caroli wanted to be careful, so we replaced it for now.”
“All the problems she’s been having...” Honor raised her head, her voice incredulous. “It’s been a technical problem with the device, hasn’t it?”
“Probably a lot of it. It happens.”
“Oh, I know.” Honor brushed at her cheeks, stunned to find tears. She hadn’t felt them escape. She looked up gratefully as Jude handed her a cold soda. “Thank you.”
