by Cheryl Wyatt
He shrugged. “You didn’t know.” Obviously he still had festering wounds about circumstances surrounding Dad’s death. Treat that internal ailment ASAP, will You, Lord?
Trauma techs brought in the youth. He not only looked bruised and bloody, but…
“He looks shocky.” Lauren finished Mitch’s thought as the crew transferred the patient to the table with a backboard.
“Type and cross him for six units of blood STAT. Give him two now, and I want to see his lab work ASAP,” Mitch instructed the circulating nurse.
An orthopedic specialist with whom Mitch had consulted their case-in-progress arrived and stood across from Mitch. The specialist nodded at Lauren. “She new?”
* * *
Lauren’s nerves rattled as the formidable man sized her up.
“She’s my scrub tech.” Mitch’s answer apparently appeased the intense surgeon. His visual scrutiny stopped instantly, proving his great professional respect of Mitch and his choice in staff. The man would probably hit the roof if he knew surgery wasn’t her primary specialty.
But Lauren trusted Mitch, too. If he didn’t think her completely capable, she wouldn’t be in here. That didn’t keep Lauren from hoping like mad that Mitch’s judgment was sound.
Doubt crept in. If Mitch had called in a specialist, perhaps Lauren wasn’t the best scrub tech for this case?
The specialist’s scrub tech entered. After Kate gloved him, he stood opposite Lauren and nodded professional acknowledgment.
“Should I step out?”
“Stay. You’ll learn a lot,” Mitch answered before Lauren could bail. How did he continue to read her mind and heart?
After Mitch updated them on the patient, the specialist fired up a drill and began piecing bone together with hardware. A burning smell reached her nostrils and made her eyes water, despite surgery goggles. Fine misty powder floated in the air. The smell made Lauren nauseous. She tried not to breathe.
That only worked well for a couple minutes. “Should I go check on other patients?” Lauren asked, feeling suddenly queasier. She didn’t like the orthopedic instruments. Or the sounds they made. Particles sprayed the air like sawdust. Lauren leaned in. Was that…? Bone powder. Her queasiness rocketed.
“Soon as we’re done here,” Mitch answered with his head and hands lowered to the surgical site.
Lauren puffed shallow breaths and begged herself not to gag or pass out. “I—I really think I need to step out now.”
Mitch eyed her. “You look a little pale. You okay?”
She nodded but couldn’t say another word.
When her stomach revolted in a telltale gallop, she knew she was no longer okay. Frowning, she shook her head.
“Go.” Mitch nodded to the double doors, which wobbled and turned into four as Lauren stumbled toward them. Or perhaps she wobbled rather than the door. Everything whirled around her.
Don’t let me pass out or throw up.
“She’s going down!” someone yelled.
Don’t…let… Lauren’s thought floated off, and so did the surface she stood on. The room tilted. Her stomach sank like a magnet sucked into the floor. She reached out, flailed for anything to hold on to, but air was the only thing within reach.
Besides the pretty floor tiles, which slammed upward.
She had a vague sense of someone swooping in. Breaking her fall. Arms shoved beneath her pits. And so she hung there. Tried to talk but could only blink into Mitch’s face, which floated in and out of her vision.
“Get a gurney. Check her blood sugar. We have a nurse on the floor.” Mitch’s voice. Soothing. Serious. Ordering. Her?
Lauren tried to explain to the voice that there were many nurses on the floor. But her tongue felt like a two-ton anchor. She slowly blinked eyes open, but saw only an odd ring of green ankles and a blue circle of surgically booted feet around her.
* * *
Moments later, Lauren tried to lift her head.
“Whoa. Don’t move, Lauren.” Mitch’s hand rested on her forehead. A poke stung her finger. She looked down. And came fully to, to find herself flat on her back. Nita held a glucose monitor. “Have you eaten today, sweetie?”
She was the nurse on the floor. Literally. On the tile, outside the operating area. Embarrassment and horror hit her. Had she jeopardized the patient by becoming one?
The specialist probably thought she was a first-class idiot with a one-way ticket to Weaklingville.
Speaking of tickets, a Texas-bound flight sounded real good right now. She fought a maniacal urge to laugh.
Why did Mitch trust her? Under the guidance of his gentle hands, she sat up slowly. Put her head between her knees, mostly to hide the rush of tears and her blazing red cheeks.
“Lem makes sure she eats,” Mitch said. Good thing because Lauren’s mouth still felt sutured. “But juice and crackers couldn’t hurt,” he added.
The team lifted her to a gurney. She hated to trouble them over a stupid fainting episode. Yet they’d scold her if they knew her thoughts. Every patient mattered and somehow, Lauren knew with all her heart, she mattered immensely to them.
Thank You, Lord. Friendship was an unexpected summer blessing.
“Tell me what’s going on, Lauren.” Mitch’s fingers brushed her forehead, so he must not be angry. He certainly didn’t sound it, which baffled her. Nita brought juice and crackers and left.
“It’s the bone powder. The burning smell didn’t help. I think it got to me in there,” Lauren said with intense effort and slur.
Mitch chuckled. “That happened to me in residency, if it makes you feel better.”
“You passed out?” Lauren blinked, overcome with surprise.
“Whammo!” He smacked his palms together. “Face to the floor.” He pointed at his eyebrow to a tiny scar. One she may not have noticed, had he not been so close and pointing it out.
“You had stitches?” That almost made her laugh.
“Only four.” He smiled. “But my ego needed a few more.”
Now Lauren did laugh. “No doubt.” She turned serious and put her hand on Mitch, which seemed to momentarily arrest him. “How’s the patient?”
“Better than my scrub nurse at the moment.” He grinned.
Then in one athletic motion, he hopped onto the gurney. He used his thigh to brace her back as she sipped the juice. “Don’t you dare think a fainting episode is going to excuse you from scrubbing with me.” Determination glinted in gorgeous eyes, alongside deep compassion and a killer smile.
“I’m sorry.” She dropped her face. Stared at pulp floating in her orange juice.
With the world’s most tender motion, Mitch raised her chin. “No need to be sorry. Or embarrassed.” His eyes softened as they dragged like silk across her face.
She swallowed. The hall closed in around them. They stilled like two enamored sculptures with gazes tangled.
If anyone walked by, their feelings would be discovered.
In a surprising moment, his fingers slid down her neck and bent her head back in a way that could only position it for a kiss.
Every reason not to marched across her mind and massacred the moment. “I— Mitch, this—” But the safe, sedating look in his eyes killed the protest on her tongue as he responded with a high-caliber hug, and solid muscles squeezed the reasons out.
“I know. No need to be embarrassed about that, either.” His voice lowered delectably, as did his chiseled face.
Thrill scuttled through her. Followed by all the reasons this would qualify them for a prescription of Anti-Stupid Pills.
“It can’t work. I live in Texas. And you have someone else’s stinkin’ ring in your glove box,” she blurted out before his mouth brushed hers. Heated breaths mingled. Utterly engrossing eyes and luscious, inviting lips hovered m
illimeters from hers.
Her words must’ve slapped instant sense into him.
He drew a confounded breath, clenched his jaw and backed slowly away.
And Lauren could breathe again. Think again.
Knock her stupid, stubborn head against the floor again for stopping the ridiculously gorgeous man from kissing her.
Good. Gravy. The near-kiss scorched Lauren’s cheeks.
They looked around, startled, as if remembering they were still technically at work. Therefore this near-miss-kiss hadn’t been the brightest, most professional idea.
He stood, face rigid. “Don’t move until the juice kicks in. I’ll have Nita bring more crackers, then I’ll drive you home.”
“Thanks.” Every nerve ending still fizzed.
He lifted her side rail. “I mean it. Don’t get up without assistance. You’re a fall risk.”
The way his eyes bored into hers as he leaned in with his torso, as well as his words and direct stare, Lauren knew he didn’t mean “fall risk” merely in the sense that she was likely to pass out again and hit the floor.
He very clearly meant she was a fall risk…for him.
Chapter Eighteen
The second Lauren stepped inside the center the next day, Kate grabbed her and squealed. “Sweet vitals! He almost kissed you!”
“You saw?”
Ian meandered up after Kate. “Saw what?”
Kate clapped. “Mitch almost smooched Lauren yesterday.”
Lauren’s face heated. She dragged her gaze down the halls. Where was Mitch? What if he heard Kate creating an ordeal? Would he freak out? Avoid her? Ugh.
He hadn’t come to breakfast at Grandpa’s this morning. Double ugh!
“Finally!” Kate peeled the top off a yogurt with zest. “You two’ll get with the program and stop fighting the inevitable.”
Ian looked from one woman to the other. He also looked increasingly disturbed. Kate’s face glowed as though she was ecstatic at the prospect of Lauren and Mitch being an item.
No question, Ian was not.
Why? Concern infiltrated Lauren. Perhaps chocolate would sweeten Ian up. Remembering the dark chocolate stash Mitch paid for, she scrambled for her satchel. She’d leave Ian chocolate and flee. Mitch approached. She tensed. Swatted Kate, smirking.
How would Mitch react upon seeing her? Caustic like yesterday? Acid curdled up Lauren’s throat and burned.
Mitch walked, head bent, eyeing his watch. “I have a meeting with new employees. Be back later.” He nodded to Kate, avoided Ian and gave Lauren’s shoulder a playful pinch. “Hey.”
“Hey.” She pressed tangled hands to her fluttering tummy.
As Mitch stepped away, he smiled slowly, expressions revolving like someone stumbling into a state of wonder.
Lauren put a hand to her chest. Relief!
Kate smiled smugly and went to answer a call light. Lauren went to stock rooms. Ian’s gaze narrowed at Lauren then Mitch, who paused in the hall, talking with another doctor. Ian obviously fumed about something. What?
He lumbered angrily toward Mitch. An ICU nurse poked her head out of a room. “Dr. Shupe, can you check these vent levels?”
Ian sulked that way. The look on his face said this unchartered conversation was far from over.
Kate joined Lauren stocking rooms and kept humming classic love songs. Lauren swatted her with glove packets. They finished a row of bins and grabbed the next list.
Kate smiled. Pointed behind her, whispering, “Your admirer.”
Lauren turned to find Mitch observing her with a tender expression. He walked toward them. When had he returned?
“Lauren, you busy?”
“I was just helping Kate.”
“I see that.”
Kate snatched the bin from Lauren. “She’s done.”
Chuckling, Mitch led Lauren from the room. “I saw your employment application in the office.” He beamed. “You should put in for a permanent Illinois license…if you plan to stay.” The question grew stronger than the gleam in his eyes. Stay?
The idea appealed more than he knew. “I found out last night I get to be here two more months. My Texas friend is doing her best to accommodate me in light of Lem’s recovery.”
“How is he today?”
“If you’d come for breakfast, you’d see he’s doing super.”
He nodded but didn’t give an explanation as to why he hadn’t joined them for breakfast. He had at least phoned Grandpa to say he wouldn’t make it. Still, Lauren was curious. Yet not secure enough in their fledgling relationship to ask his whereabouts.
“So how about it, Lauren? Want the job full-time?”
“I guess it couldn’t hurt.” She nibbled her lip. “As long as you let me transfer to recovery or somewhere less intensive.”
Apple in hand, Kate returned and leaned against the wall where they talked. “It’s trauma care. Everything’s intensive.”
“Not like this.” Lauren indicated the O.R. suite. “I can do recovery. Also wouldn’t mind doing triage.”
Muscular arms folded across his broad chest. “I like you better as my scrub nurse.”
“But orthopedic surgery is apparently not my thing.”
“What if I’d walked away when I hit the floor that day?”
Her laughter faded.
Kate smiled and stepped gingerly away. “He has a point.”
Mitch rustled Lauren’s hair. Normal at first, then slower, which sent tingles through her scalp. “You’ve obviously had sufficient surgical experience.”
“In school, I worked part-time as a surgery tech. Also in obstetrics, we got cases at night that couldn’t wait for morning. They trained the OB crew to scrub in during an emergency.”
“You have a knack for it. Regardless, I’d like you on board in any capacity. Think about it, okay?”
She nodded. “I will.” Even though a lump of fear the size of Texas sat on her chest.
Did she deserve the trust freely flowing from his eyes?
God, from the time I was little, Grandpa always said You’re The Great Physician. If You’d still entrust the care of patients to me, please help me to know that.
Out of the blue and on the heels of her unspoken prayer, Mitch dialed a number and handed the phone to her.
“Who is it?” Lauren asked. Kate resumed eavesdropping.
Mitch grinned. “Illinois Department of Professional Regulation. Nursing Department.”
She shook her head and eyed Kate, who snickered. “When the man wants something, he doesn’t waste time.”
The caller answered. Lauren explained her situation.
“We’ll need to conduct a departmental check. It should be three days.”
“For the background check?”
“No, ma’am. For your license to arrive, as long as there are no red flags.”
She hung up, feeling like a floatation device. She stared at the phone. “I absolutely cannot believe it.”
Mitch sank his teeth into a chocolate square and leaned his hip on the desk. “What’d they say?”
“My Illinois license will be here in three days.”
Mitch’s grin grew sweeter than any chocolate in existence.
Lauren didn’t know what terrified her more. The prospect of doing nursing full-time again. Or the giddy way her insides crooned when Mitch looked her way.
She stood on three precipices that could go very badly. Or very well. Hopefully her streak of hardship was over. Being able to work as a nurse without making a single mistake. To move to Illinois near Lem, like she’d always dreamed of. Growing a relationship with a dashing doctor.
Any one of the three going wrong would break her heart. Hard to hope for all to work out well when he
r life hadn’t been without heartache since age ten. Lem had been the one bright spot.
“Chocolate for your thoughts?” Mitch brandished her candy.
She smiled. “Things seem too good to be true. Not sure I remember what it feels like to hope and have it come true.”
“Thankfully we know Someone in the business of restoring hope.” Mitch’s gaze tracked Kate, who was leaning their way. “She’s nosier than a plastic surgeon’s office agenda.”
“Ya think?” Lauren laughed.
“Although she did bring up a good point to me yesterday. Said she hoped you’d end up working here with us permanently.”
“How’d your meetings go?” Lauren hedged.
“Excellent. We headed off a serious staffing shortage. I put out a community call for employees and have interviews lined up for weeks. We’ll soon have two more trauma teams in force.”
Which meant he was moving on, with or without her long-term. Mitch was the kind of man who would. That made her feel glad and sad at the same time.
Glad for the community. Sad for her? “I’m a nut job,” Lauren announced decidedly.
Mitch laughed. “You trying to convince me I wouldn’t want you working here with me?”
“I’m trying to convince both of us.” She groaned when call lights went off. “Shall I answer that? Or make the doctor?”
He smiled. “Either way. You let me know.”
She headed toward the light. “Since it’s a nurse’s job, I’ll cut you a break.” She aimed her finger at him. “But know without a doubt I’d be far too much trouble for you.”
That stopped him in his tracks. She went on to the room.
“May I trouble you for an extra pillow?” the mother, at the side of her son—the recovering planker—asked Lauren.
“It’s no trouble.” Lauren turned to get it and rammed face first into something hard—Mitch’s chest. She looked up, up, up. He grinned down and raised well-built arms. A pillow dangled from each hand. He must’ve followed her into the doorway and heard the mother’s request.
What kind of doctor delighted in answering call lights?
“Thanks,” Lauren muttered and snatched both pillows from him, then helped the mother plump them around herself.
