Читать книгу The Doctor's Devotion - Cheryl Wyatt - Страница 12

Chapter Three

Satisfied Lauren was on board with his plans, Mitch sprinted to the last-landed chopper. Three’s crew worked feverishly, but he had peace Lauren could handle it. A medic disembarked and rushed Mitch, who eyed his beeper to be sure he hadn’t missed pages about this.

“Status?” Mitch asked the out-of-breath flight medic.

“Three-car accident. High-speed head-on.” He hitched a thumb toward the interstate. “Mass casualties…” He indicated the array of life flight choppers. “Obviously.”

Blades wind-whipped Mitch’s lab coat as they approached the fleet. Gas fumes permeated the air. “What happened?”

The medic’s eyes hooded. “Texting teen crossed the center lane. Hit a minivan, which spun into a third car. Perpetrating car ejected unbelted passengers. Twelve victims in all. Van folks in bad shape, but we can make it to St. Louis with them.”

“Who’re you leaving with us?”

“Both ejected teens. Driver’s bad, but not as grave as her passenger. Three more too critical for Refuge, and St. Loo’s too far. Place is a godsend.” He indicated Mitch’s center.

“Who’s the imminent death?” Mitch searched chopper windows.

The paramedic pointed to where Ian worked on a critical patient as Kate hurtled the gurney toward the entrance—which Mitch just now realized was still belted in uncut camo ribbon.

He dashed over, pulled his hook knife and slashed the band machete-style seconds before Ian and Kate torpedoed through.

“Not the way you envisioned the ribbon-cutting, huh?” Lauren, who’d jogged up, asked. “Got an extra stethoscope?”

Mitch draped his over her neck and squeezed her shoulders in respect and gratitude. She nodded, then bolted back to the field. Her previous terror and hostility had vanished. Thank You, Lord.

He headed toward operating rooms. Had they even taken the plastic off the equipment yet? If only they had a bigger crew.

But Mitch had wanted to honor the community by saving remaining positions for townspeople needing work.

Ian looked to be thinking similar thoughts. “I got this case. You rally the troops. We need more help. I wish your pararescue jumper friends were here. We could use the PJs’ elite medical skills.”

“No doubt.” But the special operations paramedics were on a mission. Mitch ran back out. Scanned the crowd.

Lord, come on. You know I can’t do this without—

Like exclamation points on the end of his prayer, Mandy Briggs, pediatrician wife of one of the PJs, rushed up. “I’m here to help.”

Mitch nodded. “Anyone else medical, we need ’em. Check ID then team up with a nurse named Lauren at chopper three.”

“Will do.” Mandy instructed medical people to see her immediately. While she vetted, Mitch skimmed accident reports texted from EMTs and police officers on scene.

Amid nurses bearing badges, a uniformed man came forward. “The mayor sent me over, ma’am. I’m an experienced army medic on family medical leave.”

“Excellent. See him.” Mandy directed him to Mitch.

He approached Mitch, raring to go. “Name’s Caleb Landis. What can I do, sir?” He bounced on the balls of his feet and looked unafraid and eager to help. He had the air of a born leader. Good.

Mitch pointed to a chopper. “Triage that one.”

“Yes, sir.”

The head flight medic faced Mitch. “Those three are red-light critical and one grave. Wanted to give you a status. We didn’t have your contact info before because—”

“No one expected this,” Mitch finished for him.

The paramedic nodded. “Most docs would take my head off for not calling first. Thanks for letting us drop without notice.”

Mitch waved him toward his rig. “I call it teamwork.”

“I’d offer my teams to stay and help but we’ve had two more trauma calls across the river.” Apology resided in his eyes.

“We’ll take it from here. You’re free to fly.”

The second the medic settled in his chopper, it lifted.

How was Lauren holding up?

Mitch found her hovering expertly over a patient. She didn’t appear frazzled, but focused and quick on her feet. She held a terrified patient’s hand and spoke softly while wheeling the gurney. Mandy walked alongside, adjusting IV lines. No one rushed, so the patient must not be as critical. Just scared. The way the trembling woman’s eyes fixed to Lauren’s convinced Mitch that Lauren knew calmness was contagious, and she deftly infused it.

Despite the carnage outside, Mitch smiled. Lauren was meant to do this. Take care of broken people.

Lem had given Mitch a summer to-do list that included several big repairs prior to them learning Lauren was coming.

Perhaps repair of a different sort was meant to happen this summer. More than what they had anticipated. Mitch could fix Lem’s tractor, his deck and his aging kitchen and other projects. But he also determined to get through to Lauren’s broken place by summer’s end. Repair the rupture that had so wounded her soul, she’d walked away from the career Mitch was confident had comprised her calling. Then Lem would worry less over her.

Mitch got updates on all triaged patients then headed to the next critical. He threw on a surgical cap and mask, scrubbed in and backed through his sterile suite. Thankfully, someone had readied the room. Nurses from somewhere were gowned and counting instruments. Eagle Point. Welcome home.

The staff gowned and gloved Mitch, then transferred the patient in. Mitch began exploratory surgery. “Clamp.”

Someone pressed it into his hand. “Clamp.”

“Scalpel.” Mitch grew impressed at the speed and accuracy with which she passed instruments.

Intense part of the surgery over, Mitch tilted to view the assistant and found himself absorbed in Lauren’s eyes. Delight rippled through him. He smiled, though she couldn’t see through his mask. “Hello, Nurse Bates. Thought you sounded familiar.”

She blinked rapidly, which revealed how nervous she was. Her cheek above the mask twitched.

He leaned closer. “You’re doing great, Lauren.”

“You, too,” she whispered back.

“Suture.”

She pressed it confidently into his hand. “Suture.”

He hadn’t even told her what thread size or type. Nice.

Upon closing the wound, Mitch rested his elbow against Lauren’s. He liked the feel of her working at his side. “So, Bates, my recovery nurse pulled out at the last minute, which means I’m hiring. You interested?”

She scowled above her mask. “Are you insane?”

He laughed. “Guess that’s a no.”

She shook her head, proving she really thought he was crazy. After the patient was moved to recovery, Lauren stayed while Mitch checked the progress of other patients. Surgeons and staff had come from nearby Refuge. Mandy or the mayor must’ve called for backup. Mitch didn’t recognize anyone from when he had lived in Eagle Point prior to entering the service. Hard to tell with no one in street clothes. Not even his primary trauma team.

Mitch was glad Eagle Point’s reporter suggested they wear scrubs for the ribbon-cutting to look official. Instruments in his lab coat had saved life-giving seconds. God had ways of taking care of them and patients in their charge. Like choppers being present. Therefore Mitch believed God would fix his acute staffing problem. Lord, if You could do that STAT, I’d appreciate it.

Lauren approached that instant and handed him a chart. Hmm. “We’ve cleared a room and pre-opped the next case.”

“Would you like to assist me again?” He smiled.

She scowled. “Would you like a knuckle sandwich?” She sighed. Tilted her head. “Fine. If you need the help, I will.”

“We have sufficient help now.”

Her eyes widened. “Then why on earth would you ask me? I’m not cut out for this.” Papers fluttered as her arm waved.

“Because you need to trust you.” He took the chart and nodded toward recovery. “If they’re okay in there, you’re free to go.” He left her with his words. No time to waste. The next patient was on the table.

Multiple surgeries later, Mitch exited the broken-in operating area and peeled off his cap. He stood beside his team, hand-washing in silence. “We tried, guys.”

His words didn’t mend Kate’s melancholy or lift Ian’s irritation. Ian glared at the ceiling, looking tempted to take the injustice up with God. “It’s not right when the wrong one dies.”

“Chin up. She could’ve been your daughter,” Mitch said of the texting teenage girl who’d survived while her victim did not.

“No. Mine won’t be texting when she’s driving.”

“How can you be sure?” Mitch leaned against an IV pole.

“Because she’s not getting her license until she’s thirty.” A smile breached Ian’s weary face.

“How’s custody stuff going?” Mitch asked tentatively, knowing Ian was enduring a painfully ugly and disillusioning divorce.

Ian’s jaw clicked. “Not in my favor.”

Which accounted for Ian’s rift with God. Ian’s crumbled marriage cemented Mitch’s belief that distance only ruined relationships. That also mutilated Mitch’s last relationship when his girlfriend’s unit moved to another area of Afghanistan.

Precisely why he should re-up his efforts to ignore an unexpected attraction to a cute, carrottopped Texan.

“Sorry, bud.” Mitch wished he could ease Ian’s pain. And prevent repeating his own, which made him wonder why he’d entertained an attraction to Lauren at all. Mitch shook his head. “Man. All my brain cells must’ve dehydrated in the desert.”

“Nah. You have at least two left.”

“Then one’s hiding and the other fled to go find it.”

Ian laughed. “Why you say that?”

“You don’t want to know.” Mitch’s ridiculous attraction to Lauren was better off unmentioned. He’d just gotten over his girlfriend who broke up with him because they were long-distance. Lauren lived in Texas, which meant she was off-limits. Mitch wasn’t looking to break his heart twice in one year. Safer to lean on the wary side while getting to know Lauren this summer. A feat, since Lem already exacted some pretty stealthy matchmaking maneuvers on them.

Thankfully Lauren was the furthest thing from interested in him, too. So jealous, she probably bled green rather than red.

Ian eyed him peculiarly then retreated to the staff lounge. Mitch ran a last patient round. As Kate stood in the hall updating Mitch, a rush of red hair caught his eye.

“Lauren?” Surprise coursed through him.

She leaned out of a linen closet. “Yes?”

“You’re still here?” He approached Lauren slowly lest she unleash the anger he’d glimpsed earlier. Calm filled her face—and some other expression he couldn’t place.

“Surprised?” She smiled.

“I am. Thought you left hours ago. You’re free to.”

She fiddled with the blanket. “I know.”

He kept a gentle distance. She stepped away then turned back.

He readied for an explosion. Her face stayed thoughtful.

“Mitch?” Her mouth fumbled with words, which drew his attention to full lips. Bright red. Probably that color from dehydration, running halls for hours with nothing to drink.

He wrestled his unruly attention back to her eyes.

Finally she held his gaze. “I wanted to say thanks.”

He nodded, not wanting her to have to explain.

By not giving her the chance to opt out of helping, he’d given her something unexpected. Had her confidence in her nursing skills been restored by this horrible accident?

“Lauren?” He liked how her name rolled off his tongue.

“Yes, Dr. Wellington?” She paused. Lovely profile.

“How many more patients might you go on to help now?”

“Tonight?” She looked haggard at the thought.

“No. We’re done here tonight. I meant how many more patients…in life.”

She blinked rapidly but didn’t answer.

“Any?”

She bravely met his gaze and his question with an honest but vulnerable face. “Not sure. Jury’s still out on that one.”

“Would you reconsider my vacant nurse position?”

She looked shocked that he’d ask again. “I’m honored you’d trust me, but no. My life is in Texas.”

“But your grandfather is here.”

Scowling, she chewed her lip. “Thank you, Dr. Obvious.”

Mitch chuckled. “We need an assertive charge nurse. I have it on good faith you can hold your own with bossy physicians.”

She rolled her eyes. “My patient’s blanket is getting cold. Your patient, rather.”

Her answer far from pacified.

“Very well.” He motioned. “Carry on.”

Face lifted, she hugged the blanket. “It’s for the texting teenage girl. I heard you lost her passenger. I’m sorry.”

Mitch nodded. “We did everything we could.”

She searched his eyes. “I admire you and your team. How do you do it? Lose someone yet never give up?”

“Because despite each one we lose, there’s a slew to save.”

She tucked her chin, as though trying to draw warmth from the blanket herself.

Not caring that his back bore Kate’s insatiably curious stare, Mitch stepped close, his arms on her shoulders. “Lauren, I know this was horrific and hard. I didn’t leave you much choice, but you held up as well as anyone. Sorry if I came across as rude and unfeeling before.”

“You had a job to do and you were right…people were dying.” She backed out of his grasp. “The last thing I want hanging over me is more guilt. I couldn’t abandon you. Or your team.” She nodded toward Kate, who nodded back. “Or them.” Lauren indicated rooms of recovering patients.

Mitch stilled, respecting her need for space.

Good thing, because the beauty that unleashed every time she blinked was kicking his concentration to the curb. She had the most gorgeous green eyes.

Before she got out of hearing range he said, “Nurse Bates?”

“Yes, Dr. Wellington?” She appeared miffed every time he used the title. Like she knew he did so intentionally.

He leaned out of earshot of Kate, who’d be dying like an eavesdropping little sister to know what was said. “Please, call me Mitch. ‘Dr. Wellington’ makes me feel snobby and senile.”

A gorgeous smile dawned. “Agreed. But only if you stop, and I mean this instant, calling me Nurse Bates.”

“But you need to get used to hearing it.” He grinned.

Her eyebrows pinched in a beautiful downward slope. “If my patient didn’t need this blanket, Wellington, I’d be tempted to smother you with it.”

His grin widened. “You definitely inherited your grandfather’s temper.”

“I can’t imagine him ever being angry with you. You seem the best of friends.”

There was no missing the sour tone that pickled her words.

“He hasn’t been angry with me for twenty years anyway.” Mitch chuckled, recalling the first time he met Lem, who dragged Mitch across a field by his ear for stealing corn. Made him work it off, too. Lem and that cornfield had been the best things to ever happen to Mitch. “But I have seen him come unhinged at a broken-down tractor or two.”

She giggled. “He still kick tires when they break down?”

“Still does.”

“I’m ashamed I never appreciated everything about him before.” She slumped. “Anyway, time for vitals. See you later.”

He could only hope. Mitch watched her departure, enjoying every second of her appealing stride.

Ian returned. “I’m— Wait. Why do you look sedated?”

Mitch shrugged and averted his gaze from the lovely Lauren.

Ian eyed him curiously. “Anyway, I’m heading out. See ya.”

Mitch caught Ian. “Hey, what do you have going Saturday?”

“Besides staying in a coma?” Ian rubbed tired eyes. Mitch knew the feeling. His eyelids scraped like sandpaper.

“Lem invited the med team over for a Southern-fried feast.”

“You making this famous chili we hear about?” Ian winked.

“Sure. We’ll have a chili day at Lem’s and just hang out. Refuge medical folks are covering our shifts here.”

Kate approached, chomping on a delicious-looking apple.

His invitation lifted weight off Ian’s shoulders. “Lem’s it is then.” Ian eyed Mitch pointedly. “Will Lauren be there?”

Wait…what?

Kate snickered then looked thoughtful. “You know…we need another nurse. Lauren did outstanding. Have you considered—?”

“Already asked. She said no. Not just no, but ‘don’t ask again or I’ll throttle you’ no.”

Ian snorted. “When has that ever stopped you?”

“Point taken. I’ll work on her as long as she doesn’t do to me what Lem does to broken-down tractors.”

His team laughed, but Mitch wondered how Lauren would take his familylike friendship with Lem. Daily breakfast with Lem would be interesting. Especially if he actively recruited her to be on his team, which would mean major life restructuring and relocation. Much as he wanted Lauren close to Lem and on staff, it wasn’t his choice to make.

Help her make the right one, Lord.

But Mitch’s gut knew. He eyed the ceiling. “Thanks. I’m commissioned to convince a hot-tempered redhead to uproot? This is one assignment I am not looking forward to.” Especially if he had to continue to contend with this all-too-annoying attraction.

Mitch headed to look for Lauren and give her a ride home. And pester her a little more about at least being his part-time summer nurse. She seemed to enjoy scrub duty best and was good.

“Fine. I’m on it, God. But help me accomplish this mission with the least bloodshed possible.”

He rounded the corner and ran smack into the object of his prayers. She returned his stethoscope.

He tried to hand it back. “You might—”

Her head shook firmly. “I won’t need it again. This final cameo was nice for closure, but my nursing career is over.”