“Let’s just both pray you make it back to the Silver Horn,” Rafe said worriedly. “Seeing Marcella will have to come later.”
Chapter Thirteen
Marcella was standing at the main desk in the ER, chatting with Helen and a few other nurses, when she noticed Dr. Whitehorse stepping off a nearby elevator. Since he rarely appeared in this portion of the hospital, she hoped his business downstairs was professional and not an attempt to see her. Several times this past week their paths had crossed in unexpected places around the hospital, making her wonder whether the incidents had been coincidental or planned.
Tall, dark and solidly built, the physician was definitely handsome. He also possessed a kind, gentle manner that instantly put a person at ease. But as much as Marcella had always liked the man, he didn’t make her heart go zing or bells ring in her head. Only Denver had that unexplainable effect on her.
Denver. Dear Lord, what was she going to do about him? The past few days had dimmed her anger. Now tears remained a constant threat at the backs of her eyes, while a hollow ache of longing weighed heavy in her chest. Tonight after work, she had to pick up her phone and call him. He might not want to see her again, but she had to somehow convince him that the boys needed him. She needed him. Their life together shouldn’t be over. It should just be beginning.
The nudge of an elbow in her ribs interrupted Marcella’s whirling thoughts and she looked over to see Paige grinning cleverly at her.
“Uh—I think Dr. Hunky is heading this way and he has his eyes set on you. Why don’t you go say hello and put him out of his misery?”
From the corner of her eye, Marcella could see the doctor fast approaching.
“Why don’t you go say hello to him?” Marcella suggested.
Paige chuckled. “Because he doesn’t like coarse country girls like me.”
Biting back an impatient sigh, Marcella stepped away from the group to intercept the good doctor before he reached the nurses’ desk. If he wanted to speak with her, at least she could prevent the conversation from reaching a bunch of attentive ears.
“Hello, Dr. Whitehorse.”
He smiled warmly, and Marcella thought back to the last time she’d seen that sort of smile on Denver’s face. It had happened only moments before she’d told him about the baby. And she very much doubted he’d smiled since.
“Hello, Marcella. How are you?”
“I’m fine. Thank you for asking. If you’re here in the ER to check on a patient, we just sent the last one to X-ray. We’re actually getting a little breather this afternoon. I hope you don’t think we nurses stand around talking most of the day.”
His smile deepened. “I’ve seen the ER in action. You deserve every breather you can get.” He glanced over her shoulder at the other nurses, then refocused his attention on her face. “Actually, I came down here to the ER hoping I could have a moment or two with you.”
Even though Paige and a few other nurses had teased her about Dr. Whitehorse wanting to date her, she’d never put much stock in the talk. Until now.
“Oh. Is there something I can help you with?”
A shy smile crossed the doctor’s face. “I’m hoping you can. The Fallon Reservation will be having special Christmas festivities this coming weekend. If all goes well with my schedule, I plan to attend Saturday. It would be a lot merrier for me if you’d accompany me for the day.”
Even though she should’ve been expecting it, his invitation caught her completely off guard. At the most, she was thinking he wanted her to join him for a cup of coffee in the cafeteria lounge. Not a day of celebration with his Native family.
Her mind was whirling, searching for the best way to handle the situation, when a hopeful grin crossed his face.
“It’s the holiday season. Time to have a little fun. And I like you, Marcella. I’m pretty sure you’ve figured that out by now.”
She could feel her face turning warm with embarrassment. “I like you, too, Dr. Whitehorse. But I—well, right now I’m—”
When she broke off awkwardly, the doctor surprised her by taking her by the arm and leading her to a spot across the room.
“First of all, my name is James. Jay to my friends. And you don’t have to give me any explanations. I’ve heard about the baby. And that things haven’t exactly worked out with the father.”
Marcella’s mouth fell open. By now, most of the nurses she worked with in the ER had heard about her condition and her breakup with Denver. But she hadn’t expected any of them to start blabbing the news.
“Who told you that?”
He shook his head. “Not Paige, if that’s what you’re thinking. It doesn’t matter who. Hospital gossip spreads faster than the flu virus.”
The doctor was right. Nothing personal stayed that way for long around here. She shouldn’t let the chatter bother her. In a couple more months her condition would begin to show to anyone who bothered to look at her. Besides, she was proud of her coming baby. It was a special part of her and Denver, and she would always be grateful that something wonderful came out of their union.
Lifting her chin, she said, “Then you’ll probably understand I’m not exactly in the holiday spirit. You should ask someone who would be a fun date for you. Not me.”
He took her hand and squeezed it, and Marcella wished she could have felt something more than the simple touch from a friend.
James Whitehorse gave her an understanding smile. “I don’t expect you to laugh or dance or tell jokes all day long. There’ll be all sorts of good things to eat and you can see some of the culture of the Paiute and Shoshone tribes.”
This coming weekend was the annual Christmas barn party on the Silver Horn Ranch. It was always a huge celebration with a live band, lots of dancing, mounds of rich food and presents for everyone. Normally, Marcella would be attending, but this year she was staying away from the ranch. Seeing Denver among the partygoers would simply be too painful.
“I’ll think about it, Jay,” she told him. “And let you know by tomorrow morning.”
“Great! I—”
The doctor paused as Paige suddenly called to her from the corridor leading into the treatment area.
“Marcella! Over here, hurry! It’s Denver!”
Denver? Icy fear shot through her, and not bothering to excuse herself to the doctor, she took off in a run toward the nurses’ desk.
Meeting her halfway, Paige latched a hand onto Marcella’s shoulder and guided her toward the treatment area.
Her heart frantically racing, Marcella asked, “What’s happened?”
“Don’t panic,” Paige swiftly ordered. “He’s not critical. At least, he doesn’t appear to be. One of the Calhouns brought him in. Rafe, I believe—he’s in the waiting area.”
“Where is Denver?”
By now they’d reached the main room of the ER, and Paige pointed to a compartment shielded by heavy white curtains.
“Dr. Sherman is with him now,” she told her while keeping her hand firmly planted on Marcella’s arm. “I’m not sure you should go in there. Let me handle it.”
“Not on your life!” Marcella exclaimed, then hurried into the compartment.
“It’s about time someone showed up!” the doctor practically shouted as he attempted to push Denver’s shirt away from his chest. “Where is Nurse Winters?”
“Outside—”
“Tell her to get herself in here!”
Marcella didn’t have to bother going after Paige; the nurse appeared instantly and the two of them jumped into action removing Denver’s shirt and acquiring his vitals. As they moved his upper body one way and then another, his eyes were squeezed tightly shut, his teeth clenched with pain.
After a quick scan of Denver’s vitals, the doctor began to examine the large contusion on Denver’s lower ri
b cage. “He needs oxygen and IV,” he ordered, quickly adding the specifics of each. “That means now! Not tomorrow!”
Her hands shaking, Marcella pulled the necessary items for the IV from a nearby cabinet and returned to the bedside. Up until now Denver’s eyes had been closed, but the moment she touched his arm, his lids flew open and a pair of brown orbs looked straight at her.
“Marcella!”
Even though her name came out as a raspy whisper, there was a tender plea in it that very nearly had Marcella bursting into tears.
“Do you know this man?”
Paige answered Dr. Sherman’s question before Marcella had the chance.
“He’s the father of her baby.”
There was a momentary pause, but Marcella didn’t bother glancing over to see whether the ER physician was about to order her out of the treatment area. She continued on with her job of finding a suitable vein for the IV.
Finally, Dr. Sherman replied, “Then we’d better take extra good care of him.”
The unexpected show of kindness from the testy physician had Paige slicing her a look of disbelief. Meanwhile, Marcella warned Denver, “Sorry. You’re going to feel a stick.”
Denver tried to grunt out a laugh, but the pain in his side stopped him short. “My leg,” he said. “It’s full of prickly pear spines. Another stick isn’t going to hurt.”
“Nurse Winters, cut his jeans open and we’ll see about the spines.” He asked Denver, “How did this happen? What hit you? Or you hit what?”
“A mean bull with long horns. We were doctoring him and he charged,” Denver explained gruffly. “He knocked me off my feet. My partner said I flew through the air. I don’t know. The next thing I knew I was on the ground and could hardly breathe.”
A cold shiver ran down Marcella’s spine. He could’ve been killed, paralyzed or, at the least, disabled for months. The reality jolted her. If she hadn’t realized just how important this man was to her life before, she certainly knew it now.
“Hmm. That explains things.” Dr. Sherman placed the disc of the stethoscope against Denver’s chest and listened intently at several different spots. Eventually, he stated, “You must be a lucky guy. Your lung doesn’t seem to be punctured. And from this initial assessment, you don’t appear to have any internal bleeding, but you definitely have some broken ribs. I’m sending you to the lab for an X-ray and an MRI to see exactly what sort of damage is involved. Once I look at the pictures, I’ll determine whether you’ll need more hospital care or if I can tape you and send you home.”
By now Marcella had the IV ready and Paige had a tube of oxygen flowing into Denver’s nose. The doctor rattled off several drugs to be administered, then scribbled orders on a clipboard before motioning to Paige.
“Nurse Winters, quit dallying around and come with me.”
He started out of the curtained cubicle and Paige called out to him, “But, Doctor, the spines in his legs!”
He shot her a tired look. “Marcella is perfectly capable of dealing with the patient’s leg. Now get out of there! I need your help elsewhere.”
As soon as the doctor and nurse disappeared from the small treatment area, Denver said, “He calls you Marcella and her Nurse Winters. Does he always talk to her like that?”
Marcella nodded while her heart squeezed with pain. He looked so bruised and beaten, yet so very, very dear. It didn’t matter what he’d said to her in the past or how he’d said it. All she wanted was to take away his pain, to tell him how much she wanted them to be together. But would he ever feel the same way?
Clearing her throat, she said, “Dr. Sherman goes out of his way to hide his real feelings from Paige.”
“Like someone else I know,” he murmured soberly.
Marcella moved to the head of the bed, and he wrapped a hand around her forearm. Her eyes full of moisture, she leaned her head down to his.
“Are you trying to make a point?” she asked, not allowing herself to think past the moment, or to hope there might be a chance for them.
“It means all those awful things I said to you about the pregnancy—I was trying to hide my real feelings, too.”
As his words slowly sank in, her head swung back and forth in disbelief. “You had to be gored by a bull to tell me this?”
He grimaced. “I wasn’t gored. The horn didn’t rip into me!”
The fear that had poured through her when she’d first seen him on the gurney had left her shaken to the core. To hear him make light of the accident angered her.
She pointed to the large blue contusion rising up on his rib cage. “Look at this! That’s close to being gored. You could’ve been killed!”
“Would you have cared?” he asked softly.
The moisture in her eyes spilled onto her cheeks and she quickly dashed it away and sniffed. “A nurse isn’t supposed to show her emotions in front of a patient, but I happen to...love this patient.”
Amazement joined the pain on his face. “Marcella! Do you really mean what you just said?”
She gazed into his brown eyes and the protective shell around her heart fell away, leaving her raw emotions exposed and throbbing like an open wound. “I mean it. Although I’m not sure why.”
He started to push his upper body off the gurney, but Marcella grabbed his shoulders and gently lowered him back to the narrow bed.
“Don’t try,” she ordered softly.
“But there are things I need to say—”
Her throat tight, she shook her head. “Right now I have to get your meds going. Then we’ll talk.”
Marcella hurried away to the drug dispensary. When she returned, she was relieved to see that a bit of color had returned to Denver’s face, telling her the oxygen was doing its job.
As she hung the IV bag and connected the line to the port in his arm, he asked, “Can you tell me what’s in that bag? A bunch of truth serum?”
Ignoring his attempt at a joke, Marcella concentrated on adjusting the drip. “Everything you need to get well is in this solution,” she answered sagely.
“That’s not true. Everything I need is standing right here beside me.”
Afraid to give in to the rays of hope bursting inside her, she turned to him. “Have you forgotten I’m pregnant with your baby? A baby you don’t want.”
Once again he attempted to rise up, but his shoulders managed to lift only a few inches before he let out a defeated groan and fell back to the mattress. “Don’t say that, Marcella. Don’t ever think it or say it! I want our baby and you! More than anything.”
“So when did you come to this conclusion?” she asked, the misery of the past several days edging her voice with sarcasm. “When you thought you might die from your injury?”
He mouthed several curse words while snatching a hold on her hand. “I never thought I was going to die! You’re probably not going to believe this. But before the incident with the bull, I had decided to drive into town today to see you—to beg you to forgive me. I’d already told Rafe. I hardly planned for Crowbait to run me down or knew that I would end up meeting you like this in the ER.”
She leaped on one important word. “Did I hear you right? Did you say forgive you?”
A sheepish look swept over his features. “You heard me. I’m asking you to forgive me. For acting like a jackass of the worst kind. I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“But you did. You hurt me terribly.” She swallowed at the ache in her throat. “Look, Denver, I can accept the fact that you don’t love me. I can even understand your reluctance to enter into another marriage. But to deliberately accuse me of getting pregnant like your first wife...that was—is—too much!”
His expression rueful, he shook his head. “You’re wrong, my darling! So wrong. I do love you. More than anything. I do want to be your husband. I think I’ve wanted th
at from the very start. But from the moment we began growing close, I turned into a coward. The more I loved you, the more frightened I got. That morning when you told me about the baby, I was suddenly terrified. All I could think about was you dying—the baby dying. I wanted to tear into you for risking everything precious we had together. I reacted like an idiot. But to be honest, I didn’t know half of what I was doing or saying.”
Suddenly none of it mattered anymore. Denver loved her. And she loved him. There would be bright, beautiful days ahead for them.
Tears streaming down her face, she leaned over and gently smoothed the dark tousled hair off his brow. “I’ve hardly behaved in the best of ways, either, Denver. And you might not believe it, but I had decided to call you as soon as my shift ended. I was going to plead my case for us to be together—whether you wanted to hear it or not. The last thing I expected was to see you lying here in the ER with broken ribs!”
A weary smile tilted the corners of his lips. “I’ve missed you so much. You and the boys.”
She sighed as joy began to flood through her, washing away all the doubts and sadness she’d carried with her since she’d ordered him out of her life. “We’ve missed you, too. Very much.”
His gaze flickered up to hers. “Have you told them about the baby yet?”
Shaking her head, she said, “I was planning to tell them at Christmas. After all, the baby is a gift. Against giant odds, he was miraculously conceived. He’ll be born healthy and handsome. You have to keep that faith and hold it in your heart. And then you won’t be frightened anymore. I won’t let you be.”
A sly smile lit his brown eyes. “He? Maybe it’s a she with bright red hair and a fiery temperament. Did that idea ever cross your mind?”
“I’m thinking it might be another son with dark hair and warm brown eyes. Would you like to have a daughter?” she asked softly.
“Daughter. Son. Either way, I’ll love it with all my heart. I want us to have babies, Marcella. As many as you want. That’s what I’d like.”
The Cowboy's Christmas Lullaby Page 18
