Читать книгу Tempted By The Brooding Surgeon: Tempted by the Brooding Surgeon / From Fling to Wedding Ring - Robin Gianna, Karin Baine - Страница 12

CHAPTER THREE

WHY SHE ALLOWED him to turn her around, then press his fingers deeply into her shoulder muscles, Annabelle had no idea. But even as she told herself it was weird to do this, that she should just turn to head for the hotel doors and disappear to her room before the man started criticizing her again, she found herself standing stock still instead as she absorbed the feel of his hands.

Lord have mercy. Was this why people spent their hard-earned money to get a massage? She couldn’t believe how incredibly good it felt, as though his palms and fingers were magical instruments, kneading and pressing until the tightly knotted muscles began to loosen. His warm breath skimmed her neck as he worked, and it all felt so wonderful, every other thought in her head disappeared, and all worries along with it. Slowly tipping her head from one side to the other, she nearly moaned with the pleasure of those talented surgeon’s hands firmly moving on her neck and over her shoulders, working their way down to press against her spine.

“Take a deep breath, then blow it out. Then again.”

She obeyed, her eyelids fluttering closed at the sensations, even as a tiny part of her mind managed to ask why she was allowing annoying Daniel Ferrera to give her this amazing massage, professional and impersonal or not.

“Good?” he asked, his voice a low murmur in her ear.

“Mmm... Yes. Good.” That breathy word didn’t begin to cover it, but her brain wasn’t functioning well enough to come up with something else. His cheek almost brushed hers, so close she could practically feel the warmth of it radiating against her skin. Each time she drew breath his delicious scent filled her nose. Just as she was sinking so deeply into the sensory overload that she nearly forgot where she was, he abruptly removed his hands and stepped back.

Nearly swaying at the suddenness of it, she blinked and slowly turned toward him, surprised to see he looked oddly grim instead of satisfied that he’d helped the knots unkink. “Um, thank you. That did help a lot, I have to admit.”

“Good.” He ran that wide hand of his through his hair as he seemed to concentrate on something over her head. She glanced over her shoulder, and when she saw nothing there, turned back to see Daniel, now standing with his hands in his pockets, staring at her. “Listen. I want to talk to you about the phone call I got a little while ago.”

Something about his tone set an alarm clanging in her head, though she couldn’t say exactly why. “What call?”

“There’s a clinic near Huancayo that hasn’t been staffed and ready to see patients in over a year. A surgeon friend of mine wants to open it while we’re here so he can do things like hernia and gallbladder surgeries that are urgently needed by people in the area. He needs an anesthesiologist. I told him you’d probably be fine with going there.”

“I don’t understand. You can’t do surgeries here without me.”

“Alan Velasco, an anesthesiologist friend from Lima that I’ve worked with a number of times before, is going to come here to take your place. So we’ll be able to take care of a lot more patients than we’d originally thought, with both clinics open. Which is good news.”

Cool and impassive was the only way to describe his expression, and there was something peculiar about it. Something that didn’t quite fit with this new opportunity. “When would this happen?”

“Alan said that he and the surgeon, Eduardo Diaz, could be here the day after tomorrow. So, soon.”

Her heart lurched as she pondered how that could possibly work. She absolutely had to get the meeting she’d missed in Lima rescheduled before she went back home. Before the school she wanted to save closed for good and got knocked down by a wrecking ball, which would happen in just two months if she couldn’t pull her plan together in time.

What if the doctor and CEO at the hospital in Lima who were interested in partnering with her wanted her to be there a specific evening after work to hear the details? She needed to be close enough to go running if they found time to squeeze her into their schedules.

About to ask more questions and explain why going to Huancayo might not work for her, she paused to study him. Really looked at his chiseled jaw and handsome features, the deep brown of his eyes that she’d thought were beautiful and mesmerizing when she’d first met him in Philadelphia long ago. Every woman in that hospital had swooned over Dr. Daniel Ferrera. And, yeah, she’d secretly been one of them until she’d learned his amazing attractiveness on the outside was the polar opposite of his personality.

Reading people and their body language, carefully listening to verbal cues and paying attention to their eyes, their expressions, had been an essential survival skill for Annabelle growing up. Studying him now, her antennae went on red alert, telling her something was really off here. She let herself absorb it, think through whatever subtext there might be between the lines of his actual words.

Then the Aha! came like a sledgehammer to her chest. The shock of it, along with the intense burn filling her gut and the heat scorching her head, finally had her seeing right through the jerk.

“You arranged this, didn’t you? You hate working with me so much that you’ve arranged for me to go to the other clinic so you could work with this Alan guy.”

“I don’t hate working with you. I simply saw this as an opportunity to have more patients get the surgeries they need.”

“That is such bull! I’m not stupid, Dr. Ferrera, even though you clearly have always thought I am. You worked all this out, no doubt smug as hell as you did it, convincing yourself it was perfectly fine and somehow win-win because more patients will be seen, no matter how wrong your motivation is.”

“It is a win-win. Alan has a lot of experience with heart surgeries, and you’ll be helping people who need medical procedures and advice near Huancayo. That’s it.”

“That is so not it. Do you spend your life manipulating everyone and everything around you? Always able to convince yourself you’re doing it for your patients, instead of out of some nasty need for complete control?” Shaking now from the top of her head to the soles of her feet, Annabelle jabbed him hard in the sternum, wanting so much to punch him instead, just as he’d offered to let her do earlier. The only time she could remember being this upset and furious had been the last time Daniel had screwed her over.

“You stink as a human being, you know that? You really do. I’m contacting the mission heads about this. If they go along with what you want, which everyone seems to do, I’ll work in Huancayo. But I’m telling you right now that I may have to leave there to get to an extremely important meeting in Lima, which is a lot longer drive from there than from here. Once I have it scheduled, I have to get there, and I don’t care how you feel about that. I’d rather not leave the clinic without an anesthesiologist, but you’re the one creating this situation.”

“Is this much drama really warranted, Dr. Richards? I’d think you’d be glad to not work with me. Less stress for you in the OR,” he drawled. “I’m not creating a situation. I’m getting a clinic open to serve more patients. I thought you’d be as pleased about that as I am.”

“Seeing more patients is always good. But there’s an agenda attached to that, and it has to do with me,” she said between her teeth. “Just so you know, when I contact the mission management, I’m telling them about how you think your surgeon status makes you godlike. But you know what?” Lord, she hated that her voice quivered, making her sound weak. “You’re not a god. You’re not, no matter how much you want to play like you are.”

“I have no illusions of being a god. If I was, my life would be different, believe me.” All cool relaxation left his voice, the harsh planes of his face looking etched from stone. “Maybe it’s past time for you to see that none of this is about you, and never has been. It’s always been about the patients facing death. Facing pain and suffering and lifelong complications. About the people who love them and who are devastated when a surgery goes wrong, or a condition is left untreated. About those left behind having to pick up the pieces of their lives. It always has been, and always will be, and I have to believe you care about them as much as I do.

“I’ll see you in the OR in the morning. Maybe you can get your meeting in Lima scheduled for tomorrow night. Then get your stuff ready so you can go to Huancayo with Dr. Eduardo Diaz when he gets here the day after.”

He swiveled toward the hotel, and Annabelle watched the back of his tall, broad form as he walked, his shoulders stiff, his posture proud. Watched the heavy hotel doors close, leaving behind the smothering cloud of disapproval. Of pity for who she was and convictions about who she could never be. It rolled over her, consumed her, until she couldn’t breathe.

Blindly, she stumbled to the pathway into the woods beside the hotel, sucking in air.

We heard you’re homeless again, Annabelle. Can you tell us how many different schools you’ve attended this year?

Let’s see what clothes are in the office storage closet, Annabelle. We’ll just throw away the ones you’re wearing.

Go to college? That’s just silly, Annabelle. You need to set realistic goals.

She smacked her palms against the rough bark of a wide tree. Rested her forehead against it and gulped air, welcoming the painful prickling against her forehead.

Only one person in her life had believed in her back then. One special high school guidance counselor who had seen past her dirty clothes and face. Noticed how focused she’d been on her studies, how she’d got good grades despite being yanked in and out of different schools every time her mother’s drug-and alcohol-fueled life had got messy, which had been most of the time. She’d learned early that the only way she would survive the hunger, the bad living conditions, being utterly alone when her mother left for weeks on a bender, was to be smarter, work harder than everyone else around her. To read and to dream.

That special counselor had introduced her to a group promoting medicine as a career path for high schoolers to consider. The instant she’d walked into that hospital, met doctors and nurses and technicians, had seen the amazing equipment and felt the busy, pulsing rhythm of the place as it treated people and saved lives, she’d known that becoming a doctor was all she wanted to do.

Everyone had constantly tried to send her in a different direction, warning her it wouldn’t be easy. And it wasn’t. But nothing ever had been. Working two jobs while going to college, then medical school, had been the best years of her life. For the first time, she’d believed all the dreams she’d had over the years could really come true. Had seen her path and run without stopping. Applied for every scholarship she could dig up. Worked hard to get the kinds of grades that added academic scholarships to the needs-based ones. Once she’d finished medical school and moved on to her training residency in Philadelphia, she’d been blessed with the mentorship and support of a few special doctors and administrators there. Wonderful people who’d found extra grant money for her to survive.

Her tough times were history. Behind her. Not who she was now, and not who she’d ever be again.

Except that wasn’t true, was it? A part of her would always be that poor little girl with filthy clothes and dirt on her skin being judged by everyone around her. Being found lacking, pathetic, incapable, no matter how hard she worked to try to prove she could be more than that.

For long moments she let herself wallow in the painful memories. The terrible, negative feelings. The ridicule and doubt. Remember the past that still clung to her shoes, no matter how hard she stomped her feet, or how fast she ran to knock off every embarrassing and ugly thing that proved her status as a misfit. And she prayed that, on top of everything else, Daniel would never know where she’d come from, and who she really was.

She drew in long, deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Using the meditation techniques that had helped her move into a world completely different from the one she’d grown up in. To find the steely determination she’d had to call on her whole life, her resolution that she’d go from being on the lowest rungs of society to someone who helped those still there. After long minutes she stiffened her spine and stood tall.

Dr. Daniel Ferrera was just a nasty bump from her past that she’d had the misfortune to run into again. But she wouldn’t allow him to hurt her, or make her think less of herself. Wouldn’t let him or anyone else make her forget why she was here. Wouldn’t waste another moment thinking about a man who chewed people up and spit them out with the excuse that he was doing it for a good reason.

She had important things to accomplish here, and one of the biggest was getting the hospital school meeting set up. She would do whatever it took to convince them of why they should partner with the Chicago hospital where she worked, and save the school, turning it into a charter school that offered medical career path options to poor, disadvantaged high school kids like she’d been, changing lives for the better in the process. The way her own life had been changed.

Once that was done she’d go to Huancayo and do the best she could there. Focus on the chance to help children and adults with problems that made it harder for them to live comfortably and happily.

It didn’t take a heart surgeon to make a difference in people’s lives. It just took someone with heart, and that was at least one thing she knew for certain she had enough of.

* * *

As much as Daniel tried to keep his interactions with Annabelle completely normal during surgery the next morning and throughout the day, the strain between them hung in the room like a thick cloud.

He’d always prided himself on being tough but fair. But something about Annabelle seemed to bring out an extreme version of his stern and unyielding side. The scowls she’d sent on and off all day made him start to hear it and see it in himself, and he knew that was something he had to fix.

Ultimately, the only thing that mattered was delivering the best care they could all give to each and every patient. Not anyone’s fragile feelings. After all, delicate surgeries weren’t a popularity contest or touchy-feely bonding with medical friends, they were about results.

But part of good patient care was having a cohesive team that worked well together. Something he’d allowed himself to forget when he’d first seen her here, letting his distrust of her overflow into the OR. Five years ago she’d earned his conviction that she shouldn’t be working on these kinds of surgeries, and he stood by what he’d said and done back then. But her work here had been good so far, and he should probably tell her that. Maybe it would make everyone on the team feel less stress in the OR.

One glance at her tight lips and stony expression as she removed the IV lines from their patient told him that fixing, at least a little, the rift between them wasn’t going to be easy. Maybe it was just too late, pointless even, since they wouldn’t be working together much longer.

Daniel drew in a deep breath and shoved away those questions to focus on the patient, checking to make sure all his vital signs were where they should be post-op. “He looks good. Nice job, everyone.” He pulled off his gloves and scrub cap, then rolled his head to relieve the tense kinks after hours of being mostly stationary during surgery, pausing briefly to look at Annabelle out of the corner of his eye as he did. He watched her face soften as she talked to the child and stroked his cheek, helping him awaken, and had to admit to himself again how wonderful her bedside manner was. Something not true of every anesthesiologist. “After he’s in Recovery, we’ll stretch our legs and break for dinner. Then I’d like to get one more in tonight.”

“I’m all for that,” Jennifer said as she cleaned the instruments. “I need a serious bellyful of food first, though. Who’ll be the last patient?”

“A little girl with patent ductus arteriosus,” he replied. “I thought about moving her down the list, maybe seeing her next time because she’s doing all right at the moment, but I figured since it’s going to be a comparatively easy and short surgery we can fit her in for the ligation tonight. What do you say we eat, then get back here in an hour so we can all get a decent night’s sleep afterwards?”

“No arguments from me,” Karina said.

He noticed Karina and Jennifer glanced at Annabelle, both looking a little concerned. Probably wondering if she’d eat with them, since she’d declined to join them at lunch. Maybe they knew as well as he did that it was because she didn’t want to make small talk with him. Since he didn’t particularly want to do that either, he wondered why it had bothered him that she’d eaten alone.

Annabelle didn’t say a word on their trek along the scrubby, rock-strewn path back to the hotel, even though the nurses chatted nonstop. The conversation sounded a little forced, and he had a feeling they were trying to make up for the discomfort hovering in the air.

Daniel couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off Annabelle, noting the way the hair tucked behind her ears was starting to curl, as it always seemed to do around this time of day once she took off her scrub cap. Even this late in the day, the temperature was still in the mideighties, which might be why he was sweating. Or maybe it was because he was trying to figure out what to say to her.

Except her attention seemed utterly focused on the path ahead of them. A focus so intense he couldn’t imagine how she managed to stumble over a stone, but he saw her toe catch just before she plunged headlong toward the rocky path.

His heart gave a jolt and he leaped toward her, shooting out his arm to grab her before she ended up falling flat and hurting herself. His other arm instinctively wrapped around her back as he yanked her upright, pulling her hard against his chest. The feel of her full, soft breasts pressing against him somehow had him folding her even closer as her startled eyes looked up into his. The moment lasted long, breathless seconds and he realized he didn’t want to move.

Her eyes seemed to reflect the same uncertainty he felt until she pulled herself free, nearly stumbling again in her haste to step away. The confusion he’d seen in her gaze morphed into an icy stare that seemed to instantly cool the temperature down about ten degrees. It was the kind of expression that the term if looks could kill was based on.

“You okay?”

“Fine. Thanks.” She took a few more steps away. “Listen, I kind of want to be alone for a while,” she said, directing her comment to Jennifer and Karina. “I’m going to grab some food from the hotel and eat by myself again. See you all back in the OR.”

He watched her hips sway as she hurried ahead of them; how she somehow made scrubs look almost sexy, he didn’t know. Feeling relieved that he wouldn’t have to figure out how to make small talk with her, or endure being shut out and ignored throughout dinner, he realized that, at the same time, disappointment filled his chest that she wouldn’t be at the table with them. Which made zero sense, and he disgustedly shook it off. He’d just have to make time later tonight to talk with her alone and try to clear the air.

“Is something bothering Annabelle?” Karina asked in a low voice.

“Not sure.” Jennifer glanced up at Daniel, and it was pretty clear she knew exactly what was bothering Annabelle. “I think she might be unhappy that the shipment of equipment hasn’t made it here yet.”

“What shipment?” Daniel asked, wondering if there really could be a reason she was unhappy besides her anger at him.

“She has that Med Mission Wishes nonprofit she set up a few years ago, you know? She’s been collecting the newest batch at her hospital for about three months, but for some reason what she wanted sent here hasn’t shown up yet.”

“Med Mission what?”

“Wishes. It might be available where you work, since she’s grown it so much. Bins are set up in hospitals for people to save all the stuff that would normally be thrown away but which can be used in places like this.”

“Such as?”

“Things like tubing and new syringes, airway stuff, outdated surgical tools, all kinds of things. You know how much is thrown out at home, even if it’s brand new and the hospital just has a new vendor or something.” Jennifer gave him a look that said he should know all about this nonprofit. “So she started the organization, and after a while it grew so much she pays someone to run it now. To get it collected and inventoried and warehoused in a building in Chicago. Then medical missions from all over the world buy it by the pound.”

“Ah, I remember you were about to say something about this before, but for some reason Annabelle didn’t want you to.”

“Usually she wants to tell everyone, to get them involved.” Jennifer gave him a pointed look that said she knew all about the issues between the two of them.

“She’s the one who started it?” He wanted to be clear on that, since he just might have to talk with her about it. It was a smart thing to be doing, and they definitely needed to bring it to his hospital in Philadelphia.

“Yeah, she was appalled by the waste when we barely have the minimum of what we need to make these clinics run. Their website shows all the places in the world where Med Mission Wishes materials are used now. I admire her so much, especially considering where she came from. I don’t know a single person working at these medical missions who cares more about the people we serve here. And about all the folks coming to the Chicago free clinics, too.”

“What do you mean, where she came from? Isn’t she from Chicago?”

“Um, yeah. She is.” Jennifer’s expression was suddenly cautious. “Anyway, hopefully the box of stuff will come soon. But if it doesn’t, we’ll have to get by with what she already brought. So, how about that dinner? I’m starved.”

Something about the abrupt way she changed the subject made him wonder why she had. Did Annabelle have secrets about her life that she didn’t want Jennifer to share?

“Me, too. Let’s go,” Karina said.

Suddenly, Daniel didn’t particularly want to eat dinner and make small talk with Jen and Karina any more than Annabelle had. Not when he should take this opportunity to talk with her about his realization that he’d perhaps been tougher on her than he’d needed to be. He wasn’t going to apologize for greasing the wheels for her to go to Huancayo, because he still felt that was a good plan all around.

But he would tell the woman she’d done a good job in the OR the past couple of days, and that he was also impressed with her vision and work on collecting equipment in the United States for these missions. He found himself eager to find out what he needed to do to have his own hospital participate.

“I’m going to find Dr. Richards to make sure she’s okay, and grab something to eat after I talk to her.”

Both women looked at him a little quizzically as they nodded and moved into the small hotel dining room. Probably they’d be gossiping about him and Annabelle and wondering if they’d make up or not.

Daniel moved up the path from the hotel through the trees to find Annabelle. Or at least he assumed she’d be somewhere along there, as it was the only path the goats had trekked enough to make it decent to walk on, with the rest of the hills covered in scrub brush and stones or steep, rocky inclines.

Just as he was wondering if maybe she’d somehow taken another route, he saw her sitting on the ground with her back against a tree, and paused. Her blond head was tipped downward, her hair skimming her cheeks. She took a last bite of whatever she’d been eating then brushed her hands down her chest then across her lap. His gaze became fixated on the slow movement of her hands moving down her chest a second time, molding the curves beneath her scrub shirt, nearly cupping her breasts, and a surprising flood of heat filled Daniel’s body as he pictured his own hands replacing hers.

No, not surprising. He and Annabelle might have their differences, but she was a beautiful woman and he was a warm-blooded man. Of course he found it impossible to not think about how she’d felt in his arms when he’d caught her earlier, those lush curves pressed against his body. To wonder what it would be like to kiss her lips, so soft-looking now compared to how they usually looked when she spoke to him—compressed and irritated.

He found himself wanting to just stand there and watch her, because he knew that all that softness would disappear as soon as she saw him. But he’d come to talk to her about their conflicts and her nonprofit equipment collection, and he needed to make that happen while he had the chance.

His movement toward her must have caught her attention, as she lifted her gaze to his. Sure enough, her pretty lips pinched together and her gorgeous eyes narrowed. As far as she was concerned, he was obviously the enemy, and he didn’t know if there was a way to fix that, considering everything. But he had to try, to make the whole team more comfortable in the OR during the time she was still here.

“Before you go off on me, I have a couple things I want to talk to you about,” he said, lifting his palm to stop whatever angry comment she was clearly ready to fling his way.

“What this time? Have you convinced the mission heads that I’m too incompetent to even work at the other clinic? Thrown your weight around the way you did in Philadelphia? Made a plane reservation for me to go back to the States right this minute, dragging a bad reputation home with me?”

“No, I want to talk to you about your good reputation.”

She folded her arms across her chest and glared. “Yeah, right. This isn’t a cold day in hell, you know.”

In spite of everything, his lips quirked at what a spitfire she was. “Doesn’t need to be a cold day in hell for me to tell you that you’ve done a good job here so far, and that I know you’ll do fine work at the clinic in Huancayo.”

A suspicious stare was her only response, and he forged on, hoping they could at least make a little progress toward having a better working relationship.

“And Jennifer just told me about your Med Mission Wishes organization. It’s a good thing, a valuable thing, and I should have thought of it myself. But since I didn’t, I’d like to find out how I can bring it to my hospital, too.”

“You’re not finding a reason to criticize me for it?” Her eyebrows rose in clear surprise, and there was no mistaking the skeptical look she sent him. “You want your hospital to participate?”

“Of course I wouldn’t criticize you for it. How could I, when it’s a brilliant idea? And you know the size of the hospital where I work, the amount of equipment we’d be able to donate.”

He dropped down onto the dirt and soft plants surrounding the tree to sit next to her. Because his back was tired from standing all day he let himself lean back against it, nearly shoulder to shoulder with her. It felt oddly comfortable, and he was glad she didn’t scoot away. “I want to get your bins set up there, learn about the distribution and where all it goes around the world. How to ensure some of it gets sent here, to the various clinics in Peru.”

“Having your hospital in the loop would be good. I already know you have an obnoxious amount of clout there and think everyone should do your bidding. But in this case it would be helpful.” She tipped her head and seemed to study him, and he found himself mesmerized by the little flecks of green and gold inside the beautiful blue of her eyes.

For what seemed like long seconds they just looked at one another. Apparently, she finally decided he was completely sincere, since the suspicious frown vanished. “All right. After I get home, I’ll send you all the information about how to sign up and how it works, and hopefully the hospital administrators will agree.”

“I’ll make it happen.”

“Always the autocrat.” She rolled her eyes. “But just this once I appreciate that about you. It’s a deal, though you or someone else from the hospital will have to earmark some of it for Peruvian clinics, as that’s done at the local level.”

“I’ll take care of that. Thank you.”

“You thanking me for something,” she murmured, looking up at him as though she genuinely found it incomprehensible. “Now, there’s a shock.”

“I’ve thanked you in the OR. I know I have. You only hear the negative when it’s me speaking.”

“Maybe. And with good reason.”

“Annabelle.” He found himself reaching for her soft hand without thinking, and was surprised she let it stay in his grasp. “I want us to have a good working relationship. Mutual respect is important to a smoothly operating OR, and even though it might irritate you to hear me say it again, a cohesive team is important for surgeries to go as well as possible.”

“I agree. The problem is, you don’t respect me.”

Along with the flash of frustration and indignation in her eyes, was he seeing something like self-doubt? In every one of their interactions, five years ago and here, she’d come out fighting for herself. Was it bravado, hiding some kind of insecurity? Was she not as confident as she seemed?

“I do respect you.” He leaned closer, wanting her to really hear him. “Today I realized that I haven’t given you the praise you deserve. I’ve seen that you’re good at your job and great with patients. It’s just that I need to know with one hundred percent certainty that everyone on a team doing open-heart surgeries is the absolute best. Surely you can understand that, after what happened before, I—”

His phone jangled in his pocket, and he nearly didn’t answer it, wanting to finish this conversation. Impatient, he fished it out and saw a number he didn’t recognize.

“Daniel Ferrera.”

“Dr. Ferrera, it’s Luciana, at the Huancayo clinic. I’m here getting it cleaned up and ready to open. A little while ago I was surprised when a family banged on the door. They heard we were opening and were worried about their eight-month-old. He’s been in respiratory distress, wheezing. Hasn’t been eating well. They thought he had a bad cold and might need some medication. So I listened to the baby’s chest, and I’m positive he’s in congestive heart failure. Luckily, we still have an old echocardiogram machine here, and it showed deep and wide waves. Seems to be ALCAPA.”

“Damn.” If Luciana was right, there was a real risk of sudden cardiac death for the child. “I need to get there. We’ll leave as soon as possible, but it’s at least a three-hour drive. I’ll bring the anesthesiologist we have here. You have the equipment we need?”

“No. There’s nothing here right now.”

“I’ll see what we have that we can bring. Expect us no later than eleven, and be ready to assist.”

“Got it.”

“We need to get to Huancayo tonight?” Annabelle’s question was asked in a matter-of-fact tone. Her angry expression and clear frustration with him was gone, replaced by a calm professionalism, and he had to give her credit for that. For putting work and patients before the emotions that kept flaring up between them.

“Yes.” They both started moving down the path toward the hotel. “The nurse opening the clinic said there’s a baby that needs surgery as soon as possible. We’ll have to take the equipment from here. I’ll do an inventory of what we have, to see if we have any extra that I can leave there.”

“Already done. I took a full inventory the first day I got here, including what I’d brought with me.”

“Good.” He felt a stab of shame at his ongoing doubts about her not being quite good enough at her job for him to feel confident in her. Noting all the equipment available was something usually done by nurses, not the anesthesiologist, not to mention she’d had the foresight to bring more. Then again, being organized in that way was a totally different thing than delivering anesthesia to the sickest patients during long and serious surgeries. “That will save us time, but I can’t imagine it’s enough for both places, is it?”

“Probably not. If only the stuff I shipped had gotten here already.”

“Yeah, that’s unfortunate. But from what you’ve said, it should be here soon, right? So it’ll be good to have on hand here after we get back. With more equipment coming, we can leave whatever we take to Huancayo. And I’ll see what Eduardo can provide when he gets there.” He stopped at the fork in the path. “Let’s start at the OR, getting stuff together, before we pack and take off.”

He shoved open the OR door and snapped on the lights. Annabelle quickly began pulling together the necessary anesthesia items as he gathered the surgical ones.

“Dare I suggest we take the monitor, or will you have another fit about it?” Annabelle asked.

“I don’t have fits. You make me sound childish.”

“Well, you know the saying, if the shoe fits...”

The little smirk she sent him took any sting from the words and he couldn’t help but grin back. “A part of me doesn’t want to see you gloat, but the mature part of me says to take the monitor. If it’s really ALCAPA, it’ll be a long, tricky surgery.”

“Acknowledgement that it’s handy to have is all I wanted to hear, Dr. Ferrera.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to say she still should have shipped it instead of being so late because of it, but hadn’t he decided to stop being so rigid and critical with her? So he kept his mouth shut and concentrated on making sure he had all the surgical supplies he’d need. He and Annabelle packed things so efficiently together he couldn’t help but think they were like a well-oiled machine, and neither interrupted their work even when the door swung open again.

“You guys are back fast,” Jennifer said, walking in with a big box in her arms. “Good news! Your package came, Annabelle. I’ll go through it tomorrow to see what all’s in here.”

“Can you do it now? We have an emergency surgery in Huancayo, and it would help to see what we can leave up there.”

“No problem. What should I tell the little girl and her family who were expecting her to get treatment tonight?” Jennifer asked.

Before Daniel could say anything Annabelle briskly and efficiently went through her mental roster of the next morning’s surgeries and suggested the best way to fit the young patient in. He couldn’t blame her for the look of triumph there, the slow curving of her mouth. “See, Dr. Ferrera? I’m not worthless at all. Maybe you’ll actually come to appreciate me.”

“Never said you were worthless, and as for appreciating you? It might surprise you to hear that just might be happening already.”