His Motherless Little Twins (3 page)

“Y
OU
didn't, by any chance, ever assist in a septostomy did you?” Eric asked, handing the baby over to the two nurses who'd run to greet them when they'd pulled up to White Elk Hospital's front door.

“I've seen them done. And taken care of the patient afterwards. Why?”

“We're short-staffed right now, and I could use you in the operating room if you've got the experience.”

“I do have the experience,” she said hesitantly. Her preference would have been helping the volunteer crews who were busy sandbagging the hospital, trying to keep the flood waters back from it. That was something she could do, something that wouldn't remind her of how much she ached for a career that hurt her so deeply.

“Then I need your experience. Normally, I'd have another doctor in there, but he's driving Gabby and your sister to the hospital right now, and everybody else is tied up. I can grab our nurse practitioner, Fallon, and she's competent in surgery, but her skills are more needed in co-ordinating everything else that's going on. So if you know your way around the operating room…”

He actually wanted her in surgery? She was flattered, but
she'd walked away from being a nurse. Not because she didn't care, but because she cared too much. By rights, she should have turned him down and under most other circumstances she would have. But there was a baby who needed her…
another baby
…

“
Please
assist me. I have a very sick little boy who needs surgery, but if all my qualified staff are busy elsewhere, his surgery may have to be put off until we have the right combination of people free. You know what that could mean.”

Yes, she did know. When he put it that way, what was she supposed to do? How could she walk away from Bryce the way everybody had walked away from little Molly? “OK, I was more than a staff nurse. I was the head pediatric trauma nurse in my hospital. Just in case you want to know, or check my qualifications.”

“You wear your qualifications for everybody to see,” he said. “And I'm a pretty good judge of that.”

Better judge than she was. Once upon a time she wouldn't have hesitated. Now she wasn't sure. “Where do I scrub in?” she asked on a disheartened sigh.

Eric pointed her in the direction of the surgery. “What's your name, by the way?”

“None of your business,” she snapped. If he knew her name, it got personal, and she wasn't doing personal again. Personal hurt. It devastated. And she was tired of the pain.

Eric laughed. “When you scrub, I'd suggest you use cold water. Might cool you down a little.”

 

Well, he generally didn't like his women so feisty. Lord knew, nothing about Patricia had been feisty. She'd been the model of cool, calm composure in everything. Always smiling, always happy, Patricia had been perfect. Maybe too perfect for the likes of him. But this woman…she was spunky, bois
terous, argumentative, and in just an hour or so of knowing her, she'd raised her voice to him more than his wife had in all the years they'd been together.

Yet there was something about her that wouldn't let him look away. Drawn like a moth to the flame…that's the thought that kept running through his head. But didn't the moth usually get burned to a crisp?

This woman was all fire. Get too close and you were sure to get burned. But she was on his mind anyway, and it had nothing to do with his expectations of a pediatric trauma nurse, and everything to do with feelings he'd vowed he'd never let happen. He'd had a perfect marriage once. Anything else would fall short.

Besides, he had two little daughters to consider. In his life, they mattered more than anything else and the thought of putting them through a life-changing adjustment scared him. They were good the way they were…all three of them. Very good.

His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Neil Ranard, desperate for news about Gabby's son.

“You look bothered,” Neil Ranard said, as Eric scrubbed. “Is it about Bryce?”

Eric shook his head, but didn't answer right away, because what bothered him was the disloyalty he was suddenly feeling, thinking about the beautiful nurse the way he was. He had no business looking at another woman, and the wedding band on his left ring finger was a shining testament to that. “No, he's stable right now. Doing pretty well last time I checked. The good news is that once we've done this first procedure he should be stable enough to be transferred to get the help we simply can't provide here.”

“Gabby and I have every faith in your abilities, Eric. Neither of us would want anyone else helping Bryce right now.”

“I'll do my very best not to let you down.”

“I know you will. So if you're not too worried about Bryce right now, what is bugging you? Hold on, this wouldn't be about working with Dinah Corday, would it?”

This time he didn't bother shaking his head, as the guilt was beginning to consume him. Because, yes, it was about Dinah–so that was her name! She intrigued him. And she was sexy as hell. Something he had no right noticing.

“Well, she's a looker,” Neil conceded. “And even though we've only worked together once, she's one of the best nurses I've ever dealt with. So, which of those two qualities is distracting you? Because it's got to be one of them, since you don't know anything else about her.”

“I'm not distracted,” Eric snapped. “I'm concentrating, and you're breaking my concentration.”

Neil laughed. “I think your concentration was broken before I came in here, and it's got nothing to do with anything medical.”

“It's not what you think,” Eric denied. “I don't have time, and you know that. Between my job, and my rescue duties, and especially with the twins…” He shook his head as he backed away from the sink, arms up, water dripping down to his elbows. “I don't have time, no matter how much she…or any other woman…breaks my concentration. So I'm not going to let it happen, simple as that.”

“Look, Eric. I know you were totally devoted to Patricia, but she's been gone for five years, and I don't think she would have wanted you putting yourself through this. She would have wanted you to be happy again. To find a new life for yourself…something in addition to your work. And that would include finding someone else to share that life. But you haven't even taken a woman out for a simple dinner, have you?”

“Once or twice.” Truth was, after Patricia had died, he'd lost interest. Hadn't found it again, either, because in his heart he was still a married man.

“Look, I know it's not easy. Believe me, if anyone knows how hard it is to pick up the pieces and move on, it's me. After my marriage broke up…” He paused, shrugged, then smiled. “But I'm working it out with Gabrielle now, and I think we're going to get married. Which shows how easily the past becomes just that—the past—when the right future opens up to you. So keep yourself open to the possibilities, because you deserve to find some happiness. If not with Dinah Corday, then with someone else.”

“What if I don't want to open myself up to them? I mean, what if I like keeping myself shut off?” Eric spun away from Neil and pushed through the surgical door, stepping directly into the gown the surgical tech was holding up for him. He was back in the moment now, back in the zone. That's what always happened the instant he stepped into surgery and right now, even though the most gorgeous pair of brown eyes he'd ever seen in his life were staring over a surgical mask at him, he was focused on starting the procedure to save Bryce Evans's life.

But as he stepped up to the table, for one fleeting moment the only thing he saw in front of him were those eyes. Beautiful eyes. Distracting. Then he blocked them out, and cleared his throat. “Let's go over the surgical check list before we start.”

 

Well, if this hadn't been quite the day! She'd helped deliver one baby, helped resuscitate that baby, and had then assisted in his surgery. All that, plus dodging a flood. By all rights, she should have been tired, exhausted, ready to find a quiet corner somewhere, put her feet up and take a nap. That's probably
what she'd do in a little while, when she finally wound down. But right now she felt alive. Invigorated. It had been three long, difficult weeks since Molly's death. Three weeks to doubt herself, three weeks being berated for caring by the man who had claimed to love her. Three weeks of agony and self-doubt.

Yet in the span of only a few hours now, it was like she'd been sustained again. Sustained, validated. Made to feel normal. Of course, it would all be over with once she stepped outside the confines of this hospital. So she wanted to bask a while longer in a place where she felt like she belonged, to linger in the good feelings. Besides, she felt safe here. She'd never, ever in her life set foot into such a tiny, crazy hospital as this one, where trauma doctors had second careers as surgeons and third careers as heads of search and rescue, and where doctors still made house calls and invited total strangers into the surgery. As mixed up as it all seemed, she liked it so much she could almost picture herself belonging here, and that was a nice feeling she wanted to last for a while longer because, to be honest, she doubted she'd ever get it back.

Creeping into the intensive care nursery, where the lights were dimmed for the sleeping hours, and the green, glowing trace of baby Bryce's heartbeat on the cardiac monitor next to his bed illuminated the area like an eerie beacon, Dinah stopped halfway to the crib to admire the miracle baby lying there, breathing easily and sleeping peacefully. All was right in his world and he had no idea how people had scrambled to save his life today, how they'd put their own lives at risk to save him. Neither had he any idea how many people had already crept in to see how he was doing, or hovered outside the door, worrying about him. He had no idea that things weren't perfect, and that's the way it should always be in a
child's world. Molly should have had a chance at that, if even for a moment.

Dinah loved children, loved taking care of them, loved the innocence of the smiles and giggles. She'd fallen in love with Molly. Abandoned at birth because of overwhelming disabilities, her birth mother had simply walked away. Never looked back. And had left a precious child to die alone in an impersonal hospital nursery where the duty nurses took good care, but didn't truly care. No child should ever be alone that way, and she'd made sure Molly had never been alone.

It had reawakened something in her. A longing. And watching Bryce now reminded her of the all things he would have ahead of him, things Molly wouldn't have. She wouldn't have gone home from the hospital, wouldn't have slept in a crib, wouldn't have had toys to play with. All those weeks sitting with Molly in the hospital, holding her, singing to her, she'd wanted to pretend things could be normal for the child, but she'd known…as a nurse, she'd known. All those weeks with Charles calling her crazy for getting involved. Hopeless was what he'd called Molly. But Dinah had never seen hopeless. All she'd seen had been a sick child who'd had no one but her.

How could she have been so wrong about Charles? He was a pediatrician. He was supposed to love children, no matter what their condition. Through Molly, what she'd come to know had been a man who could barely tolerate them.

How could she have been so blind?

Now, watching Bryce, and feeling so connected to him, the longing to be part of something so good was stirring again. It would be nice to sit and cradle him in her arms the way she had Molly, to whisper motherly things in his tiny ear. It was a feeling that scared her, though, because she knew the pain of loss when it ended. It was unbearable. So deep and profound nothing could touch it or make it better.

Not ever.

With her marriage to Damien, shortly after she'd graduated from nursing school, she'd wanted all the right things—the nice little house with a white picket fence. Wanted to bake pies for her husband and cool them on the windowsill in the afternoon so their sweet aromas would waft down to him as he came home from work. Wanted children playing in the yard. Wanted to snuggle with him in the evening after the children were in bed, and talk about the things that were interesting to no one but themselves—how their days had been, who they'd met on the street, what they were going to do tomorrow, and next week and next year. But that was a dream life that hadn't come true as Damien had been bored with their daydreams by the end of their first year together and already working on a way to find his life with someone else. And here she was now, at thirty-four, fresh from the last daydream fiasco with Charles, older but, apparently, not much wiser.

Well, experience was the best teacher. Maybe she had a tendency to let her heart rule her head, but this time her head was fastened on better. Avoid relationships and the problems didn't happen.

“He looks so peaceful, you wouldn't know what he's just gone through, would you?” Eric asked.

“Eric!” she gasped, startled that he'd been able to sneak up on her like that. She'd been too lost in the daydream she didn't want to have, too caught up in something she couldn't allow herself, and this lapse in judgment had everything to do with him. Not that he would be interested in her that way. Yet he was practically hanging over her shoulder now. Standing much too close. So close, in fact, that the scent of soap on his skin threatened to tip her right back into her daydream.

As a preventative to the thoughts trying to creep in, Dinah moved round to the other side of the baby's crib, laid her hands on the raised rails and relaxed a little. She was safe here, keeping so many physical obstacles between her and Eric, even if Eric didn't know what she was doing, or how she was feeling, being so close to him. “Babies are resilient. Much more than we are, I think.”

“Is that why you chose pediatrics?” he asked.