Читать книгу The Nurse's Brooding Boss - Laura Iding - Страница 9

Later that day, Elana couldn’t stop thinking about Lacey’s plight. The cuts on that poor girl’s forearm haunted her. Lacey needed help. For herself and for her baby. More than just a quick clinic visit.

No matter how much she wanted to stay far away from Brock, she simply couldn’t ignore her conscience. Lacey was obviously in serious trouble; the telltale cuts on her forearm were not to be taken lightly. And Tucker was Brock’s nephew. Hadn’t Brock mentioned that he’d moved home to deal with some family issues?

There was no way around it. She needed to talk to Brock. To let him know her concerns about Lacey, Joel and their baby.

When she arrived at work, she walked into the arena and was surprised to discover they were busier than usual for a Wednesday evening. Patients streamed in seemingly from nowhere.

She couldn’t deny a hint of relief at the reprieve. There was no time to talk to anyone, not when so many patients were in need of assistance. She jumped into the fray, helping to move patients through the system. But just when they’d started to catch up, a local discount store reported a serious gas leak. Dozens of people flooded the ED to be ruled out for potential carbon monoxide poisoning.

Luckily, most of the discount store patrons weren’t too sick, but each patient had to be registered, screened, treated and released, taking up a significant amount of time and energy. Elana had been pulled from the trauma bay to help, giving her what should have been a welcome break from working with Brock Madison.

Except she still really needed to talk to him about Lacey. At least, that was what she told herself when she found she was constantly looking for him.

“Do we have any more carbon monoxide poisoning cases left?” Raine asked, coming over to stand beside Elana, who was finishing up the charting on her soon-to-be-discharged patient. “Because if I don’t get a chance to eat something soon, I’m going to pass out myself.”

“I don’t think so,” Elana said, glancing up at the central board listing the status of all their patients. “According to Stacey, we were expecting to see twenty-three patients, and I’m sure we’ve moved at least that many through already.”

“I hope so,” Raine muttered with a low groan. “At least this influx of patients has made the shift go by fast.”

“No kidding. Why don’t you take a break? I’ll cover for you,” Elana offered. “Then, when you’re finished, I’ll go.”

“Thanks. Give me at least fifteen minutes.”

“Take twenty,” Elana said generously. “We deserve it.”

Even though the immediate urgency of the discount store gas leak had passed, there were still quite a few patients to see. Since the trauma bay was quiet, Elana continued to help out in the arena.

When she nearly tripped over Brock, she realized Stacey had reassigned Brock to the arena too. Probably to help with the influx of patients.

“Elana? Can you send a pregnancy test on the female patient in room two?” he asked.

“Sure. Is she one of the carbon monoxide exposure patients?”

He nodded. “She’s a bit worried she might be pregnant. ”

Understandable. She hurried over to do what he’d asked. Unfortunately there wasn’t time to ask him about Lacey because her second patient began complaining of tight chest pain.

“I think you’d better take a look at this guy, Mr Reeves, in room eighteen,” she told Brock. “He has new-onset chest pain; we just did an ECG and sent labs. I think he needs to be moved into the trauma bay.”

Brock didn’t hesitate. “Let’s take a look.”

The elderly gentleman had come in originally because of a fall, but now, with this new onset of chest pain, Elana guessed it was more likely his fall had been caused by his heart problems in the first place.

“Definitely signs of ST depression, according to his twelve-lead ECG,” Brock murmured. “Let’s get him into the trauma bay so we have more access to equipment. I’ll call Cardiology so we can get this guy into the cath lab asap.”

Elana nodded, quickly explaining to Mr Reeves their plan. When she asked about his support systems, she learned his wife had passed away a year ago from colon cancer and he had two kids, a son and a daughter. He didn’t want to bother his kids, though, claiming they had their own families to worry about.

“I really think we need to call them,” she urged. “You may be having a small heart attack. I’m sure your son and daughter would want to know.” And hopefully they were decent kids who would come in to support their father.

Mr Reeves grudgingly agreed, and Elana quickly called the son, Kirk, who willingly took responsibility for getting in touch with his sister, Lisa. Satisfied her elderly patient wouldn’t be alone for long, she hurried back to his side.

“Your son, Kirk, is on his way,” she told him. “And he’s going to call Lisa too.”

“Thanks,” he whispered. His face had gone pale, and there was a fine sheen of sweat on his brow.

“Are you having more pain?” she asked in concern.

“Maybe a little,” he grudgingly admitted.

Catching Brock’s eye, she waved him over. “Mr Reeves is having pain; can I give him more morphine?”

“Absolutely. Give him five milligrams and move up to ten as needed. Draw a troponin level if you haven’t already. The cardiologist is on his way down.”

“I already drew the troponin with the rest of the labs; we should have the results any minute.” She hurried over to the medication machine to withdraw the narcotics for her patient.

Mr Reeves visibly relaxed after he received the additional pain medication. His troponin level was elevated, so the cardiologist wasted no time in arranging for transport to the cardiac cath lab.

“Wait,” Mr Reeves protested. “I need to wait for my son.”

“You can’t wait, Mr Reeves,” Elana said gently. “There isn’t time; the quicker they can get your heart fixed, the less damage you’ll have. I promise I’ll talk to Kirk when he gets here. Your son will be in the waiting room when you’re all finished, okay?”

“Okay,” he reluctantly agreed.

“Nice job,” Brock murmured as the cardiology team wheeled Mr Reeves away. “You handled that very well.”

His offhand praise made her blush. “Er, thanks.” They’d been so busy since the start of their shift, the stilted awkwardness between them from the day before had vanished. She wasn’t sure it was a good thing. Could she really just pretend Felicity’s death meant nothing?

No. But at the same time, there were other, more important things to worry about. Like the situation with Lacey, Tucker and Brock’s brother.

Gathering her courage, she looked him in the eye. “Brock, do you have a few minutes after our shift to talk?”

He looked surprised, but readily agreed. “Of course. I can be available at any time you need.”

His eagerness made her feel guilty. Did he think they were going to rehash the past? Not likely. She hesitated, wondering if maybe she should give him a hint as to what she wanted to discuss.

“Elana, I’m glad you’re willing to talk to me,” Brock said in a low voice before she could think of a way to ease into the topic of his brother. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”

Really? Her cheeks felt hot all over again, and she cursed herself for succumbing to his charm. She wasn’t the least bit attracted to Brock Madison, and she didn’t need his approval to feel confident in her nursing skills.

“Elana? I’m back,” Raine said, walking up to them. “It’s your turn to take a break.”

She took the chance to escape gratefully. “Thanks, I’m starved. See you later,” she said to Brock before hurrying away.

Good grief, she needed to pull herself together, and quick. The purpose of her chat with Brock was solely to explain her concerns about Lacey and Tucker.

Once she’d let Brock know what was going on with Lacey and Tucker, she’d have no reason to speak to him on a personal level again.

Brock couldn’t control the wide grin on his face as he either helped dispatch patients home or admitted them to the hospital, depending on the extent of their illness.

Even though he doubted that Elana was totally going to let him off the hook the way she had in his dreams, he was thrilled she was finally going to give him a chance to explain.

Nine years ago he’d gone to Felicity’s funeral, but that attempt to talk to Elana and her mother had ended in disaster. Her mother had all but tossed him out of the church, creating such a scene that he’d escaped before the police were called.

Good thing, since his policeman father had nearly boxed his ears after the accident as it was.

Months later, he’d tried to talk to them again, only to find Elana’s mother’s house was for sale. He’d soon discovered Louisa had suffered a complete nervous breakdown and Elana had been placed in foster care.

Shaken by the events that seemed to keep getting worse instead of better, he’d made it his business from that point forward to keep tabs on Elana from afar. Guilt had been his constant companion during those months following the accident, despite the results of Felicity’s autopsy. Those seconds before she’d pulled out in front of him had replayed over and over in his mind.

When he’d entered medical school, he’d buried his guilt and poured his energies into his studies. He ’d graduated top of his class, but he couldn’t have cared less.

He’d been determined to save lives. It was the only way he could live with himself.

Brock took a ten-minute break, checking his phone for voice mail messages, surprised to find a message from Lacey. She’d sounded upset, crying again, as she’d begged him to call her back.

Glancing at his watch, he realized she’d called almost thirty minutes ago. Wincing at the delay, he quickly dialed her number, hoping she hadn’t gotten bad news regarding Tucker’s health.

“Lacey? It’s Brock. What’s wrong?”

“Oh, Brock, I don’t know what to do. Joel’s gone,” Lacey said between hiccupping sobs.

Brock frowned. “What do you mean, he’s gone? Gone to work? Is there something wrong with Tucker?”

“I took Tucker to the clinic, like you said. They did some tests, gave me medicine for him and told me to use different formula because he probably has colic. When I came home, I thought Joel was at work, but a couple of hours ago, they called here looking for him.”

A warning chill snaked down his back. Joel couldn’t have taken off, could he? Surely he wouldn’t risk losing his job, not when he had a baby to support. “Okay, don’t panic,” he said soothingly, hiding the depth of his concern. “I know Joel has been having a tough time lately. He probably just needed a little break. He’s likely having a drink or two with a couple of his buddies.”

“That’s what I thought too, at first,” Lacey said. “But I’ve called all his friends—no one has seen him all day. I even went to the bowling alley, his favorite hangout, but he hasn’t been there either. I’m scared, Brock. What am I going to do if he’s gone for good?”

Elana swiped out at the end of her shift and then glanced around, searching for Brock. He’d promised to meet her in the staff lounge after work, but it was possible he was still finishing up. The physicians couldn’t leave until they were assured all the patients were safe. The handover of care was easier for the nurses, though, since there were more nurses assigned per shift than doctors.

Nervous, she swiped her damp palms on the sides of her scrubs. A brief conversation with Brock shouldn’t cause an anxiety attack. Especially since this talk wasn’t remotely personal. This was about Lacey. The young mother and her son hadn’t been far from her thoughts all evening.

“Do you want to walk out to the parking lot together?” Raine asked.

“Nah, go ahead without me. I have a few things I have to do yet,” Elana hedged, avoiding direct eye contact with her closest friend.

“Like what?” Raine demanded, oblivious to Elana’s subtle hint. “You’ve swiped out, haven’t you? What else is there to do? It’s not like you can make phone calls or run errands at eleven-thirty at night.”

Elana suppressed a sigh. “There was a patient at the clinic today that has me worried. I need a few minutes to run the issue past Brock, that’s all.”

“Oh. I see.” Elana didn’t appreciate the knowing glint in Raine’s eye. “I’m sure Brock will be more than happy to help you out.”

“It’s not like that, Raine,” she snapped. “This isn’t a personal issue. I barely know the man.”

Raine arched one brow in disbelief. “Sure, Elana. Whatever you say. Heck, I think it’s great you’re talking to him. That means you’re giving him a chance. Hey, maybe you can get him to volunteer a few shifts a month at the clinic too.”

Oh, no. Absolutely not. No way was she asking Brock to volunteer at the clinic. Working with him in the emergency department was bad enough. The clinic was her refuge. She didn’t want him anywhere near the place.

After Raine had finally left, she let out a sigh of relief and plopped into a chair to wait for Brock. She’d give him another five minutes before she went searching for him. She was tired and didn’t have all night.

Yet she refused to leave without telling him her concerns about Lacey.

When he finally came in, he looked terrible. He wasn’t smiling, his face drawn into harsh lines. He looked about as exhausted as she felt.

For a minute she wavered. Maybe this wasn’t exactly the time to dump her concerns on him.

But just as quickly she stiffened her resolve. This wasn’t about Brock; he could take care of himself. Tucker was the vulnerable one. Not that Lacey was an awful mother, but she was definitely struggling.

“Hi, Elana. Sorry I’m late,” Brock said with a forced smile.

“No problem. It was a rough night for everyone, I think.” Making small talk with Brock felt weird. Truthfully, until the day they’d worked together in the trauma room, they hadn’t exchanged more than half a dozen words to each other, and none of them pleasant or friendly. At least on her part.

A hint of embarrassment crept under her skin when she remembered how she’d lashed out at him all those years ago at Felicity’s funeral. She pushed the memories of the past aside.

She cleared her throat, swiping her hands on her scrubs again. “I’m sorry to bother you, but there’s a problem I think you need to know about.”

His dark brows pulled together in a frown. “A problem?”

“Yes. I volunteer at the New Beginnings Clinic down in the low-income district. Earlier today, a very distraught young woman brought in her colicky baby to be evaluated by the doctor.”

Brock’s spine straightened, and the expression on his face became noncommittal. “Lacey and Tucker.”

She was surprised he’d guessed, but that only made it easier to speak her mind. “Yes. You need to know I’m really concerned about them. Especially Lacey.”

“Why? Because there was something wrong with Tucker? She’s not hurting him or anything is she?” Brock asked in a rush.

“No! No, it’s not that.” Although she could understand why he might jump to that conclusion. Working in the ED, they sometimes saw cases of child abuse. “Tucker has a bad case of colic, but she was making it worse by giving him different kinds of formula. I helped her switch him over to a soy-based product and gave her some anti-gas medication for him. But your brother, the baby’s father, didn’t come to the appointment with her.”

Brock’s shoulders slumped with apparent relief that abuse wasn’t the issue. “Yeah, I’m not surprised,” he muttered.

He was being far to blasée about the entire situation. She leaned forward, willing him to understand. “Listen to me. I noticed several small cuts on Lacey’s arm. She covered them up right away, but I didn’t imagine them. She’s not coping very well with motherhood. I think she might be cutting herself, purposefully inflicting pain.”

“What?” Brock stared at her in disbelief. “Are you telling me she’s suicidal?”

Elana didn’t want to have this conversation, she really didn’t. But hadn’t she learned the hard way how ignoring a problem only made it worse? “Young adults who are known to be cutters aren’t suicidal per se, but it is a sign of being unable to cope. They cut themselves because it’s one area of their life they can actually control. And cutting themselves seems to help relieve guilt, in a bizarre way.”

“You sound like you’re familiar with this affliction,” Brock said, his gaze intense.

She swallowed hard. She knew far more than she wanted to about kids who used harmful ways to cope. Been there and done that.

And it was all Brock’s fault.

For a moment darkness threatened. She pushed the sensation away. “I know a little about it.”

“I see.” He stared at her, a flash of real regret intermixed with guilt shadowing his eyes. Could it be that the accident had affected him more than she realized?

Disturbed by the possibility, she stared down at her hands. Had Brock really suffered too? Maybe, but so what? He’d been able to walk away. She hadn’t. Besides, she needed to focus on the issue at hand.

Lacey and Tucker.

“Brock, you need to make your brother understand how his son needs him. Joel and Lacey should take a parenting class; there are resources to help them.” She silently pleaded with him to take her advice seriously. “I honestly don’t think Lacey is stable enough, or capable enough to raise Tucker alone.”