There was barely harnessed hysteria in the man’s voice. Terrance looked up from the bloodied woman on the gurney. Even if he were the most skilled doctor in the world, he could do nothing for her now.
But there was something he could do for the father.
Placing his body between the gurney and the man, he stopped the latter from plowing into it. Terrance clamped a hand on the man’s shoulder. “They’ve taken her into the exam room.”
It took a second for the words to process. “Is she…is she…?” He couldn’t bring himself to utter the unutterable.
Terrance’s hand remained on the man’s shoulder, holding him in place. “She’s alive,” Terrance assured him.
“And my wife?” Utterly beside himself, the man was blind to the still figure that lay on the gurney directly behind Terrance.
Terrance noted that the man referred to the woman as his wife, not his ex-wife. There were feelings there, he judged, vividly brought out by the tragic events of the moment.
He wondered if there were doctors who got used to saying this. He knew he didn’t. “I’m sorry. She didn’t make it.”
For a second Terrance thought the man was going to crumple before him at his feet. He seemed to get weak at the knees and sagged against Terrance as he saw the body of his wife.
“Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe Jill’ll finally be at peace.” There were tears in his eyes as he turned them toward Terrance. “But why did she have to try to take Wendy with her? She’s just a little girl, a baby.” His voice hitched badly. “She’s got her whole life in front of her.”
It never made any sense, but Terrance tried to find an explanation for him.
“Maybe your wife thought that Wendy couldn’t survive without her.” That was the most common psychological profile when it came to mothers who killed their children and then themselves. It revolved around a fear that the children left behind couldn’t really function in a world without the parent.
The man didn’t seem to hear. Instead he began to look around frantically, heading for the first curtained bed. “Where is she? Where did they take Wendy?”
Terrance drew him away before he could frighten a patient. “To Room Four for examination.”
He indicated the room Alix and the nurses had entered. The man hurried over to it. Terrance was right behind him, wondering if the man, in his grief, was going to have to be restrained. He cut him off before he had a chance to enter the room.
“They’re doing all they can for her. If there’s even an infinitesimal chance of saving your daughter, they will. Dr. DuCane’s with her right now, and they’re sending for an internal surgeon.”
At least, he assumed they were. Terrance knew he had to keep up a steady stream of conversation to distract the man. It was the best service he could offer in this situation. He knew how to treat common ailments, but what was going on behind the closed swinging doors to his right was beyond the scope of his expertise. Surgery for him meant removing pieces of glass from a cut or stitching up a simple wound.
Cushioned fall or not, the little girl they had just brought in was going to need some serious surgery—and someone who was up on what they were doing. That left him out.
Terrance thought of the lounge where patients’ family members waited for the results of operations. He’d passed it on his way in this morning. “Why don’t I take you someplace where you can sit down and—”
But the man shook off the hand that Terrance placed on his arm. “I don’t want to sit. I want to be right here. Right here,” he repeated numbly, “in case they need me.”
Angling around Terrance, he tried to get a better look through the windowed portion of the swinging doors. There was a ring of people around the table. He could make out the small form on the gurney.
“She’s so little,” he sobbed.
“Somehow they mend quicker when they are.” Terrance knew he was mouthing every platitude he could think of, but he needed to calm the man down. “She’s going to be all right.”
He saw the head nurse he’d met only minutes ago looking in his direction. He could tell by her expression that she’d overheard him. Wanda shook her head. His earlier training reminded him that he was violating a cardinal rule at the hospital: you never made promises you couldn’t keep.
But he knew how important it was to hand out hope, to offer it at least for a moment. Because he’d been on the other side of the operating room doors once himself, when his father had been the one the medical team were working over.
Small bits of precious hope, however unfounded, had kept him functioning and sane, had enabled him to keep his mother’s spirits up. And, eventually, had helped him cope with his father’s death.
It was the least he could do for the man who looked as if his whole world had shattered right before his eyes. The least and the most.
Down the corridor he saw Wanda waving to the orderlies who were taking the woman’s body away. He thought of directing the man’s attention to that, then decided against it. Instead, he stayed beside the father, whose eyes remained fixed on the activity around his daughter’s table.
“She’ll be all right,” Terrance repeated and prayed that Alix wouldn’t make him a liar.
Chapter 3
“Doctor, why don’t you go on in there now?”
Unnoticed—a remarkable feat considering her size—Wanda had come up behind Terrance and the little girl’s distraught father as they stood outside the examination room.
“I’ll take care of Mr.—” Wanda paused as she looked at the man. Her eyes were filled with understanding and compassion.
“Carey,” the man mumbled without seeming to be aware that he had said anything. He leaned his fisted hands against the upper portion of the exam room door, as if to somehow brace himself and help ward off the very worst.
“I’ll take care of Mr. Carey,” Wanda repeated, slipping a comforting arm around his shoulders. Though the man was taller than she, he seemed vulnerable and smaller. The events of the morning had diminished him.
Wanda glanced over her shoulder toward Terrance when he made no attempt to move. She made a slight movement of her brows, narrowing them quizzically, as she led Carey away to the lounge.
Terrance had no choice. Unless he wanted to arouse the head nurse’s suspicions, he had to go into the exam room. Feeling incredibly out of place, he pushed open the swinging door and entered.
The instant he did, a wall of noise and chaos reached out and grabbed him, sucking him into its midst.
Alix glanced up in his direction. There were tubes running into the little girl’s mouth and attached to both her arms. The readings didn’t look promising, but at least there was still activity going on.
“Nice of you to join us, Doctor,” she noted coolly. Several of the nurses exchanged glances. They weren’t used to Alix being anything other than warm and friendly. “Where have you been?”
“With her father.” Terrance’s answer was lost in the shuffle of people as behind him, another man entered the room.
“You called for a miracle worker?”
Terrance turned and saw the man who’d been sitting beside Alix in the meeting join the fray. Despite the obvious circumstances, the latter smiled warmly at her.
“You got that right,” Alix said. It was beginning to look to Alix as if the little girl might need more than just one doctor to help her make it. Alix rattled off a capsulized version of what had happened. “Mother jumped from the roof of the courthouse, taking her daughter with her.” It never did any good to try to distance herself from her cases. Her heart was too big to allow it, even though it cost her emotionally. “She’s got all sorts of internal damage going on, but she’s hanging in there. She’s a fighter.” Alix brushed the bangs away from the girl’s forehead. “Poor little thing.”
“Wendy,” Terrance said. Alix looked up at him sharply. “Her father said her name’s Wendy.”
“Well, she certainly wasn’t meant to fly, at least not without Peter
Pan,” Reese commented, looking toward the closest nurse. “Call up to the O.R. and tell them to get a room ready immediately, Donna. Then page Dr. Owlsey. I have a feeling I’m going to need all the help I can get here.” As the nurse ran to the wall phone, Reese looked at Alix. The orderly beside him was taking the brakes off the bed, mobilizing it for the trip to the elevator. “Want to come along?”
Alix shook her head. She knew she’d be of more use down here. “I’ll only get in your way. I’ll stop by later to see how she’s doing.” She smiled at him. “I’ve got faith in you, Reese.”
Terrance tried not to remember when that smile had been his alone to absorb. He clamped down on any extraneous feelings that threatened to seep through. Like the lady had said, the past was the past. There was no use in going there.
“Good to know,” Reese quipped. He looked at Terrance as he hurried beside the bed from the exam room. “Reese Bendenetti, internal surgery.”
“Nice to meet you,” Terrance called after the man. Reese, the bed and the two nurses and one orderly with him disappeared around the corner.
Terrance blew out a breath, realizing that he’d been in the midst of an adrenaline rush without knowing it. Ordinarily when he experienced one there were guns involved. And usually a drug bust.
With one drama now beyond her control, Alix turned toward Terrance, annoyance etched into her expression. “Where the hell were you?” she demanded. Shedding the yellow gown, she shoved it into a trash basket, her eyes blazing. “You were supposed to be in there with me.”
“I was.”
Typical. He was playing with words. Just as he always had. “From the beginning, Doctor.”
She was swiping at him. He figured he owed this to her. “I already told you. I was outside, comforting the father.”
Alix pressed her lips together to keep back choice comments. She’d never felt so out of control, so unsettled. “We have nurses for that.”
“I know,” he replied quietly, refusing to be drawn into an argument. “Wanda took him over. But at the time, it seemed like the thing to do.” Maybe if he complimented her, she’d back off. “Besides, you seemed to be on top of it.”
She never felt on top of it. She always felt that there was a little more she could do, even as her patients were pulling through. There was always the nagging concern that something had been overlooked, that her efforts weren’t enough.
But part of her success, part of the reason her patients did so well and their parents always returned to her, was that she knew how to make it seem as if she was on top of a situation. She knew how to make them think that she had all the answers even before the questions were formed. Knew how to make them feel confident.
She wished she could say the same for herself. It was all a ruse. She supposed that gave her something in common with magicians and actors.
“That’s no excuse,” she told him tersely. “You’re here to assist and learn our way of doing things.” She fisted her hands at her waist as she looked up at him. He was a good ten inches taller. “Or don’t you think you need to?”
The fire in her eyes had him feeling nostalgic despite the sharpness in her voice. There was a time when he would have warmed himself at that fire, rather than feel it as a threat. “I know better than to be lured into a fight with you, Alix.”
She resisted the temptation to tell him to call her Dr. DuCane. She wanted no more familiarity between them than was absolutely necessary. “Oh, really? I wouldn’t have thought you knew anything about me at all.”
Terrance looked around for someplace more private. “Look, I—”
Whatever he had to say, she didn’t want to hear it. There was nothing that could be said to whitewash what had happened six years ago.
“Why don’t you make yourself useful and take the patient to Bed K?” It was not a suggestion, but an order, issued crisply. “I’ll be around if you need me.”
Terrance remembered how she used to say that to him when they were studying for their MCATS. She’d always been the better student. The familiar phrase brought a smile to his lips. “Just like old times.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Nothing at all like old times,” she informed him tersely. “Bed K,” she repeated, pointing toward the general area as she walked away. “The nurse said he has projectile vomiting, so I’d stand clear if I were you.”
As Alix rounded the desk at the nurse’s station, Wanda made a comment. “Seems to be sparks flying between you and that new miracle worker.”
Alix punched her ID into the computer. A screen popped up, and she began a search for information she needed to treat one of the patients she’d admitted early this morning.
God, this was all she needed, hospital gossip. “No sparks, Wanda.”
The woman snorted. “Didn’t look that way from where I was standing.”
Alix slanted a quick glance in her direction. “Then I’d say that you were obviously standing in the wrong place.”
“Yes, Doctor.” Wanda’s tone was sing-songy and falsely deferential.
Alix looked up from the screen, flashing a contrite smile. “Sorry, Wanda. I didn’t mean to snap.”
“No,” Wanda readily agreed, “you didn’t. Need to talk?”
That was the last thing Alix wanted to do. The less said about Terrance, the better. “No.”
But Wanda wasn’t put off. Cocking her head, she crossed her arms before her ample chest. “I’ve got three kids and a passel of grandkids, Doctor D. I know when someone needs to talk.”
Alix looked at her for a long moment, then sighed. “Maybe I can’t.”
“Now that’s different,” the older woman allowed. “I can understand that.” She gave Alix’s shoulder a maternal pat. “But don’t hold it in too long, Dr. D., or you’re liable to explode. And I’m not cleaning up that mess when you do.” Her pseudo-serious warning faded as she studied Alix. Something was most definitely going on here. She was far too good a judge of human nature not to notice. “In case you’re wondering, he seems to have a good bedside manner.”
“No.” Alix’s fingers flew over the keyboard. “I wasn’t wondering.”
From the way Wanda smiled, it seemed she was willing to bet that Alix knew all about Terrance McCall’s bedside manner firsthand.
“I meant with your patient’s father. Just because they issue someone a stethoscope doesn’t mean they know how to handle people. Sometimes the best medicine they can dispense is a dose of hope, even if there’s not much available.”
Alix nodded dismissively. Wanda was right. A good bedside manner was a much-underrated ability. But right now she wasn’t willing to give Terrance any accolades, deserved or otherwise. Finding what she needed on the computer, she made a mental note and logged off.
“You’ve got my number if you change your mind,” Wanda called after her.
That made two people who’d offered her a shoulder to cry on, she thought, walking away. Not that she was going to take either of them up on it. She’d cried herself out a long time ago. There were literally no tears left. Not for anything.
If there had been, she would have shed them for the little girl she’d worked on.
Since the turmoil in the E.R. had gone down a notch after Reese had taken Wendy Carey up into surgery, Alix decided that it wouldn’t hurt anything to stop by the small chapel on the premises before she went on with her duties.
And maybe it would even help a little—both her and the little girl. Involuntarily her thoughts turned to Terrance’s sudden reappearance. She could do with a little something extra on her side right now.
“So how’s it going?”
Rounding a corner, Terrance stopped short. He’d almost walked directly into a dark-haired, cocky-looking orderly wielding a cart of empty lunch trays.
He recognized the voice even before he looked at the man. Terrance smiled wearily.
“That stint in Argentina’s beginning to look better and better in comparison all the time. At least no one threw up on me in Buenos Air
es.”
True to Alix’s prediction, the patient in Bed K had vomited all over him. An hour and one change of clothes later, he still felt the smell of the incident clinging to him. It was a hell of a start.
Riley Sanchez, a perfect blend of an Irish mother and a Spanish father, flashed a row of brilliantly white teeth. “But you’ve got to admit that the scenery’s nicer here.” Riley leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “Have you checked out some of the nurses?”
“We’re not here to check out nurses, remember?”
“Can’t help it if they walk into my line of vision.” Riley’s grin broadened. “I noticed that the lady doctor they assigned you to isn’t exactly someone who’d stop a clock. That’s one fine-looking woman.”
Riley’s laid-back, easygoing demeanor belied the sharp mind that lay beneath. Nothing worth noting ever got past Riley, which was what made him so good at his job. His humor made him an asset when times got tough. But right now Terrance was in no mood for any of his partner’s witticisms.
Riley saw the way Terrance’s jaw tightened at the mention of his guide. “Something wrong?”
He didn’t feel like getting into it, certainly not here. “No.”
Like a dog with a bone, Riley didn’t let go. “Well, it’s not right,” he observed. He stopped, thinking of the man they suspected. “She’s not connected to…?”
“No,” Terrance said firmly, “she’s not.”
That much he knew. Alix couldn’t and wouldn’t be involved in the reason he and Riley were here. Alix DuCane was as honest as they came, incapable of lying or anything more serious. He’d stake his life on it. Some things, no matter what, just didn’t change.
Shifting, Riley studied him. “Judging by the way you just said that, you’re pretty certain. It’s too soon for you to have bonded with the lovely lady doctor, which means that you know her from a previous life.”
Terrance took the high road and dismissed Riley’s words at face value. “I’m not into reincarnation.”
“Neither am I. I was talking about the life we had before we sold our souls to the agency.”
Undercover M.D. Page 3
