Читать книгу Hearts Afire - Marta Perry - Страница 11

Terry walked back into the clinic, aware of Jake pacing behind her. Why didn’t he just leave and let her take care of getting the meds to Manuela? The last thing she needed was to have him trailing along behind her as if she couldn’t be trusted to do a simple thing like this.

And does he know that he can trust you, Theresa? The voice of her conscience sounded remarkably like her mother. You certainly haven’t shown him that you’ll follow his rules so far.

Even worse, she’d brought up the past that both of them knew they’d have to ignore if they were to have any sort of working relationship. She had to do better—had to find a way to curb her tongue, along with that Flanagan temper that flared too easily.

She took a small cooler from the shelf and began filling it with ice.

“The antibiotic doesn’t have to be refrigerated.”

He was second-guessing her already. She would not reply in kind, but her lip was going to get sore from biting it if she had to be around Jake too much.

“I know. I thought Manuela could give Juan some ice chips to suck on.”

He gave a short nod and took the cooler from her, holding it while she scooped the rest of the ice in. “Where is the drug box?” His voice sharpened. “Surely you didn’t leave it here with the clinic unattended.”

She held back a sarcastic reply with more control than she’d thought she possessed. She met his gaze. “It’s locked in the trunk of my car.”

“Good.” He snapped the word, but then he shook his head. “Sorry. That wasn’t an accusation.”

She supposed that was an olive branch. A good working relationship, she reminded herself. You don’t have to like the man, just get along with him professionally.

“I know. Believe me, being responsible for that drug box is at the top of my list.” She hesitated. How much more should she say about what had happened tonight? “My family always accuses me of leaping before I look. I guess I proved them right tonight, didn’t I? I reacted on instinct.”

That was an apology, if he’d take it that way.

“Fast reactions are important for first responders like paramedics—”

She had a feeling there was a but coming at the end of that sentence. “Don’t forget I’m a firefighter, too. Sometimes it’s tough to keep the jobs sorted out.”

He blinked. “I didn’t realize that. In the city, being a paramedic is a full-time job.”

“It’s what I’m doing most of the time, but our department isn’t all that big. When an alarm comes, I do whatever I have to.” She smiled. “Can’t let the rest of the family down.”

Now she’d confused him. “The rest of the family?”

“All of the Flanagans are associated with the fire department in one way or another. My father and one of his brothers started the tradition, and our generation just carried it on. Even my cousin, Brendan, the one you met at the board meeting—”

He nodded, frowning a little, as if that board meeting wasn’t the happiest of memories.

“Brendan’s the pastor of Grace Church, but he’s also the fire department chaplain. He manages to put himself in harm’s way a little too often to suit his wife. The others—well, you’ll meet them all at the picnic on Sunday.”

This was the point at which he could make some excuse to get out of Mom’s impulsive invitation. He probably wanted to.

“I’ll look forward to that.” He paused, his arm brushing hers as he reached for the lid of the cooler. “Unless that’s going to be uncomfortable for you. If you’d prefer I not come, I’ll respect that.”

He was too close, and she was too aware of him. Instead of looking up at his face, she focused on his capable fingers, snapping the cooler lid in place as efficiently as he’d stitch a cut.

An armistice between them—that was what she needed. Maybe letting him see the Flanagans in full force would help that along. Besides, as Mom had said, they’d all be on her side, whether she wanted their help or not.

The silence had stretched too long between them. He’d think she was making too much of this.

“Of course I want you to come.” She met his gaze, managing a smile. “You’re new in town. We all want to make you feel welcome.” Even though she’d rather he’d found any hospital in the country other than Suffolk’s Providence Hospital to work in.

“I’ll look forward to it, then.”

“Fine. I’ll write up the directions to my brother’s farm for you.” A truce, she reminded herself.

She began sorting the intake forms that had been left on the desk. “I’ll just put these away and then run the meds over to the camp on my way out. If you’d like to leave, please don’t feel you have to stay around.”

“I’ll take the meds over.” He shook his head before she could get a protest out. “It’s not a reflection on you, Terry. I just think it’s safer if you don’t go over there tonight. In fact, no one should be at the clinic alone.”

“Shall I add that to the rules?” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice, and his mouth tightened.

“The rules are designed to keep everyone safe. Including you. But you have to follow them.”

“I know.” Stop making him angry, you idiot. “Next time anything comes up, I’ll call the hospital first.”

“No, call me. You have my cell number, don’t you?”

She nodded. “But you weren’t on duty tonight. Wouldn’t you rather we call the E.R.?” And now she’d let him know that she was keeping tabs on his schedule.

“That doesn’t matter. I’d prefer to be called, so I know firsthand what’s happening here. The welfare of the patients and the staff are my responsibility.”

That almost sounded as if he cared about the clinic, instead of finding it an unwelcome burden foisted on him by the hospital administration.

“I’m glad you feel that way. It’s good to know we can count on you.”

She glanced at him, but he wasn’t looking at her. Instead he was frowning at the cement block wall, as if he saw something unpleasant written there.

“My responsibility,” he repeated. Then he focused on her, the frown deepening. “Look, it’s just as well you understand this. Anything that goes wrong at the clinic is going to reflect on me in the long run. And I don’t intend to have my position jeopardized by other people’s mistakes. Is that clear?”

Crystal clear. She nodded.

It really was a shame. Just when she began to think Jake was actually human, he had to turn around and prove he wasn’t.

“Dr. Landsdowne, may I have a word, please?”

The voice of the hospital administrator stopped Jake in his tracks. It felt as if William Morley had been dogging his steps ever since the migrant clinic program got off the ground. He turned, pinning a pleasant look on his face, and stepped out of the way of a linen cart being pushed down the hospital hallway.

“I’m on my way down to the E.R., Mr. Morley. Can it wait until later?”

Morley’s smile thinned. “I won’t take much of your time, Doctor. Have you read the memorandum I sent you regarding cutting costs in emergency services?”

Every department in any hospital got periodic memos regarding cutting costs from the administrator—it was part of the administrator’s job. Morley did seem to be keeping an eagle eye on the E.R., though.

“Yes, I’ve been giving it all due attention.” How did the man expect him to assess cutting costs when he’d only been in the department for a couple of weeks?

Morley frowned. “In that case, I’d expected an answer from you by this time, detailing the ways in which you expect to save the hospital money in your department.”

Jake held on to his temper with an effort. He couldn’t afford to antagonize the man. “It’s important to take the time to do the job right, don’t you agree? I’m still assessing the needs and the current staffing.”

“Perhaps if that were your first priority, you’d be able to get to it more quickly.”

He stiffened. “The first priority of the chief of emergency services is to provide proper care for the patients who come through our doors.”

“Well, of course, I understand that.” Morley said the words mechanically and leaned a bit closer, as if what he had to say was a secret between the two of them. “However, the hospital has to make cuts if it’s going to remain solvent. We can’t afford to have money bleeding out of the E.R. every month. We need an E.R. chief who can make it run efficiently. I hope that’s you.”

Money wasn’t the only thing bleeding in the E.R., but it seemed unlikely Morley was ever going to understand that. The threat was clear enough, though.

“I’ll work on it. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

Morley caught his arm. “Another thing—I’m sure you’re spending more time than you’d like dealing with this migrant clinic.”

Jake nodded. The need to approve every step taken by trained nurses and paramedics was tedious, but he couldn’t see any other way of dealing with the situation.

“It occurs to me that something might come up—perhaps has already come up—that the board would find a logical reason to postpone this effort until another time.”

The man was obviously fishing for any excuse to shut down the clinic. Jake’s mind flashed to the incident two nights earlier when Terry had gone to the migrant housing, clearly breaking his rules. If he told Morley about it, the daily hassle of supervising the clinic might be over.

But he couldn’t do it, no matter how much the clinic worried him. He’d promised Terry another chance. His mind presented him with an image of Terry’s face, stricken and pale when he’d lit into her team, accusing them of negligence in failing to save Meredith.

No. He owed her something for that.

The wail of a siren was a welcome interruption. He gave Morley a perfunctory smile. “There haven’t been any problems there yet. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m on duty.”

This time he escaped, pushing through the swinging door into the E.R.

The paramedics wheeled the patient in just as he arrived. Terry and her partner. He’d just been thinking of her, and here she was.

Terry gave him a cool nod as her partner reeled off the vital statistics—an elderly woman complaining of chest pain and difficulty breathing. He focused on the patient, who looked remarkably composed for someone brought in by paramedics.

He nodded to the nurse. “We’ll take it from here.”

Terry patted the elderly woman. “You listen to the doc now, Mrs. Jefferson. Everything will be fine.”

“Thank you, dear. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t count on you.” The woman beamed at the paramedics.

He flashed a glance at Terry, who was fanning her flushed face. Her red curls were damp with perspiration and her neat navy shirt was wrinkled. “Stick around for a few minutes. I’d like to speak to you.”

She nodded, and he helped push the stretcher back to an exam room.

It didn’t take more than a few minutes to determine what he’d already suspected—there was nothing wrong with the woman that merited a trip to the emergency room. The fact that the nurse also knew Mrs. Jefferson well enough to know she’d like grape juice just confirmed it. He left the woman happily drinking her grape juice and went in search of the paramedics team.

He caught up with Terry in the hallway. “Where’s your partner?”

She swung toward him, resting a frosty water bottle against her temple. “Jeff’s restocking the unit. Do you want me to get him?”

“Not necessary. I can say what I need to say to you.” And he shouldn’t be noticing how those damp red curls clung to her skin. Terry didn’t mean anything to him except an obstacle to be overcome. “That woman shouldn’t have been brought to the E.R. There’s nothing wrong with her.”

“That decision isn’t really up to the paramedics, is it? We don’t practice medicine.”

He glanced around, but no one was in earshot. “Are you throwing my words back at me?”

Terry’s face crinkled into a sudden smile. “Sorry. It’s just that we all know Mrs. Jefferson is a frequent flyer.”

“Frequent flyer?” He understood, all right, although he hadn’t heard them called that—those people who called the paramedics when they got lonely or needed attention.

“Look, she lives alone in a third-floor walk-up and her air conditioner just broke. I suppose she got a little scared. Anybody might in this heat. It happens.”

“I know it happens, but it shouldn’t.” This was exactly the sort of thing Morley had been talking about. “It wastes the hospital’s resources.”

Terry looked unimpressed. “I don’t work for the hospital, I work for the city.”

He planted his hands on his hips. It was probably a good thing, for Terry’s sake, that she didn’t work for the hospital.

“That’s not the point. We have to cut costs in the E.R., and every patient that’s brought in here for no reason eats into our budget.”

“She probably doesn’t need a thing except to rest in a cool place for a while. That’s not going to take any of your budget.”

“She can find a cool place in a movie theater.” He stopped short, realizing he was letting himself get into an argument with a paramedic. “Take her home. Now.”

Terry looked at him as if she could hardly believe her ears. “You can’t expect us to haul her back to that hot apartment now. Give me a few hours. I’ll call Brendan and see if he can’t get someone to donate a new air conditioner.”

Brendan Flanagan, her minister cousin. The board member. Being caught between a board member and the hospital administrator was not a good place to be. For a moment longer he glared at Terry, annoyed at her ability to put him on the spot.

But this was a no-win situation. “All right. But she’s not staying for supper. You and your partner get back here for her before five, or I’ll call her a cab.”

“Right. We’ll do that.” She spun, obviously not eager to spend any more time in his company.

He stood for a moment, watching the trim, uniformed figure making for the door. At the last moment she stopped, turned and pulled something from her pocket.

She came back to him and held out a folded slip of paper. “I nearly forgot to give you this.” She stuffed it in his hand and hurried out the door.

Jake unfolded the paper. It was a carefully drawn map, designed to take him to the Flanagan picnic on Sunday.

He didn’t suppose he could get out of that picnic without offending several people, including one who was on the hospital board. But he suspected that, if Terry had anything to say about it, he wasn’t going to enjoy himself.

The hot day had given way to a sticky, humid evening, with clouds thickening. A shower would be nice, Terry thought hopefully as she slid out of the car. But if they did get one this time of year, it would be a thunderstorm. She walked toward the back door of the comfortable house that had sheltered three generations of Flanagans.

Mom was in the kitchen, wiping cookie dough off the table. The aroma of chocolate chip cookies filled the air, and red geraniums rioted on the windowsills. She looked up, smiling as always. Mom always made you feel as if you were the best thing she’d seen all day.

Terry put one arm around her mother’s waist while snagging a handful of still-warm cookies with the other hand.

Mom kissed her cheek and gave a laughing swipe at her hand. “Someday you’re not going to be able to eat like that, Terry.”

“Then I’d better take advantage of it while I can. Umm.” She slid onto the stool next to the pine table. “Which of your grandchildren do I have to thank for the cookie baking today?”

“Mary Kate dropped the children off while she did some shopping. She’s insisting she has to look for a job, and she needs some interview clothes that make her look like a physical therapist instead of a mom.”

Terry sank down on the kitchen stool. “That wasn’t the life she and Kenny had planned. They always felt it so important that she stay home with the children.”

“Life changes when we least expect it.” Her mother took a package of chicken from the refrigerator and opened it. “Losing Kenny hit Mary Kate hard. She hasn’t discovered all her strength yet.”

Terry blinked. “What do you mean? She always seems to keep her feelings under control.”

“I’m not sure what I mean.” The admission was unusual for Mom, who’d always seemed the source of all answers to Terry. “At first I thought she was coping well with Kenny’s death. Now, I’m not so sure. She’s hiding something behind that cheerful face she puts on.”