Читать книгу Bachelor Dad, Girl Next Door - Sharon Archer - Страница 7

DRESSED only in jeans, Luke stood in the darkened room at the back of the house and stared moodily across the moonlit lawn. He could make out the hump of the small cottage sheltered by trees at the edge of the lawn.

Theresa’s place. No, not Theresa—Terri.

Was she tucked up, asleep? He glanced at his watch. Half past one in the morning. He’d be willing to bet she wasn’t lying awake thinking about him, the way he was about her.

He leaned his forearm on the wooden window-frame and contemplated his reaction to her that afternoon. Surely, it had to be a product of his recent upheavals—the move, travelling, worry over his father and Alexis.

He’d had eight happy years of marriage to Sue-Ellen. He’d loved his wife, damn it. During all the time they’d been together and since she’d died, he hadn’t looked at another woman.

Yet one tiny and very public hug with Terri had evoked such a powerful memory that he’d been swept back twelve years to the last time he’d held her in his arms. To a five-minute interlude on the beach.

Ridiculous. Potentially disastrous.

Luke rubbed his jaw, feeling the rasp of stubble. Perhaps he was over-thinking this. Perhaps it merely demonstrated that it was time he did start thinking about a relationship. Or at least start preparing Allie for the possibility that he might one day date. Bring someone, a woman, into the family. He tried to picture that day but long dark silky hair and hot chocolate eyes stayed stubbornly in his mind.

He gave up, let his thoughts dwell on the brief meeting that afternoon. The way Terri had deflected his condolences made him wonder about her. Was her grief still raw? Did she suffer any long-term post-traumatic stress symptoms? A gnawing ache settled in his chest for the pain she’d been through. He could only begin to imagine the difficulty of losing someone the way she had. So brutal and sudden.

He and Allie had had time with Sue-Ellen. Poignant time for words of love, reassurances, promises. Heartbreaking but enriching moments to cling to in the days, weeks, years that followed her death.

Terri hadn’t had that. She’d had no chance to say goodbye before her husband had been snatched away.

He needed to be mindful of that, sensitive to her needs, and be ready to offer counselling, in a professional capacity, if she needed it. As hospital director, the welfare of his staff was paramount. He was feeling the natural concern of a doctor for a colleague. Plus Terri wasn’t just a colleague, but the sister of a friend. The least he could do was offer support to Ryan O’Connor’s sister. Yes, that was more like it. He just needed to apply a bit of sound reasoning.

Through the loosely screening shrubbery, he saw the lights of the cottage come on. Almost as though the intensity of his musings had woken Terri.

He snorted out a small breath. How hopelessly fanciful. So much for the power of common sense.

A few minutes later, she walked across to the hospital in the moonlight. The ends of a stethoscope looped around her neck dangled darkly on her pale T-shirt. She seemed to look up at his window. A queer shaft of excitement made him draw a quick breath before he could block it.

One tiny glance from her and his heart was flopping around in his chest like a freshly caught flounder. He shook his head in disgust.

Terri was obviously the doctor on call tonight.

As his system settled, he watched her disappear through the back door of the hospital and then reappear in the glass-walled corridor. By angling his head, he could follow her progress until she turned the corner leading to Accident and Emergency.

He should go back to bed and yet something held him at the window. A moment later, slow revolutions of light—blue, red, blue, red—began flickering off walls and gutters, signalling the arrival of an emergency vehicle on the other side of the building.

He straightened and, moving quietly, walked back through to the main house to find a T-shirt.

Since sleep was so elusive tonight, he might as well spend the time working with his new colleague. Pro-pinquity in a hospital setting would be the best cure for this inconvenient fascination. Baggy, unflattering clothing, surgical caps, masks, booties. That should take the edge off her appeal quick smart. For his sanity, he needed to start the therapy now. Familiarity bred contempt—he had to believe it.

Anticipation quickened his pace as he retraced her footsteps along the silent hospital corridor.

No sign of any staff in the casualty waiting room. The ambulance was gone. He skirted the main desk and entered the treatment area.

A pale-faced woman sat in an open cubicle clutching a bowl, her eyes closed and head tilted back to rest against the wall.

The nurse attending the woman turned and frowned.

‘I’m sorry, sir, you must stay in the waiting room and ring the bell if you need to see the doctor.’ She yanked the curtain of the cubicle closed as she came towards him.

‘Is Dr Mitchell around?’

‘Yes, but you must—’

‘I’m Luke Daniels. The new director. And you are?’

‘Oh, Dr Daniels.’ The line of her mouth thinned even further. ‘I’m Dianne Mills, one of the nurses. Terri’s busy with an urgent case at the moment.’

‘I’m here to help. Where is she?’

‘I’ll take you through to her.’ The woman’s subtle unfriend-liness seemed to say that his assistance wasn’t required or particularly welcome.

Luke smiled grimly as he grabbed a gown from the shelf and followed her. Maybe she was right. Judging by the praise heaped on her by his parents, Terri was a very competent doctor. She’d recognised the signs of his father’s myocardial infarct even though Will Daniels had insisted it was just indigestion. What had the stubborn old cuss been thinking? A call to the cardiologist had confirmed that Terri’s prompt actions had minimised damage to the cardiac muscle. Tests had shown life-threatening partial occlusions in several other vessels and his father had been whisked in for triple bypass surgery.

‘What’s the urgent case?’ he asked as he tugged the gown over his clothes.

‘An unconscious teen brought in by two friends. The girls couldn’t wake her when they got her home. We’ve got food poisoning cases coming in as well. I was just about to call for back-up.’ She sent him a speculative look.

‘I’ll cover.’ He smiled. ‘We can reassess later with Dr Mitchell if necessary.’

Dianne nodded. Her brief response wasn’t encouraging. Perhaps he needed to work on his people skills.

They were still a distance from a closed curtain when Luke heard a young woman’s clipped voice say, ‘I thought she should sleep it off.’

‘But I s-said we should b-bring her here,’ added a second, shakier female voice. ‘Even th-though it’s, like, two o’clock in the morning.’

‘You’ve made the right decision for your cousin.’ Terri’s even husky tones sent a light shiver over his skin. Sudden doubt needled at the belief that familiarity with her would help him. He swallowed.

‘Are you sure she hasn’t take anything? Drugs?’ Terri asked.

‘Um, sh-she—’

‘No, of course not,’ said the aggressive voice of the first girl. ‘Never.’

Luke stepped through the gap in the curtain and took in the situation with a sweeping glance.

Two young women in their late teens stood to one side of a gurney. Dressed to the nines in their party clothes, heavy make-up smudged beneath their eyes and an array of coloured streaks adorned their heads. He caught the tail end of the ferocious glare the taller of the two girls used to browbeat her friend.

Terri’s eyes lifted to his briefly in a moment of intense silent communication. It was obvious she didn’t believe the girls’ denial. Her eyes slid away and she moved to the head of the gurney where she bent over the patient, laryngoscope in hand.

‘Temperature up another half-degree to forty-one point five, Terri,’ said a nurse as she pulled up the patient’s skimpy knitted top and placed the diaphragm of her stethoscope on the pale skin.

‘Thanks, Nina.’ Terri glanced up. ‘Dianne, could you get us some ice packs, stat.’

‘On my way.’ Dianne slipped out of the curtained cubicle.

Keeping an eye on the activity at the gurney, Luke crossed to the teens. ‘I’m Dr Luke Daniels,’ he said calmly. ‘You’re on your way home from a party?’

‘A rave.’ The taller girl gave him a superior look. She was busily chewing gum and her eyes had the dilated pupils of someone who’d taken some sort of substance. ‘Over at Portland.’

‘Apical pulse one forty. BP seventy over forty. Sats seventy per cent.’ Folding her stethoscope, the nurse turned away to collect a monitor from the side of the room.

Luke turned his attention to the other teen. ‘Was your friend able to walk out of the rave on her own?’

‘We—we kind of, um, had to h-help her.’

‘Was she talking to you then?’

‘N-no.’

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Terri slide in the endotracheal tube.

‘Airway in. Ready for the ventilator, Nina.’ She straightened, moving aside so the nurse could attach the unit.

Stepping back around the gurney, Terri unwound her stethoscope and listened to both sides of the patient’s chest and her abdomen.

Luke looked back at the shorter girl shivering beside him. Deliberately holding her eyes, he said gently, ‘We need you to be honest and tell us how long ago she took something. Was it a tablet?’

‘Th-three hours.’

‘Shona!’

‘Well, sh-she did. We all did. They were only l-little pills, j-just to give us a b-boost.’

‘Thank you for your honesty,’ said Luke, touching her arm to reassure her.

‘They were only Es,’ said the taller girl, tossing her head. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me and Shona so it can’t be the that.’

‘Those so-called party drugs affect everyone differently.’ Luke clenched his teeth against the urge to shake some sense into the girl. ‘You two have been lucky. You’re friend hasn’t.’

‘J-Jessie had leukaemia. When she was a kid. Is that why she’s so sick now?’

A wave of despair at their folly cramped his chest and stomach. He was aware of Terri’s eyes on him, but he refused to meet her gaze. He didn’t need to see the pity that she undoubtedly felt for him.

‘She’s g-going to be okay, isn’t she?’

‘We’re doing everything we can for her.’ He ushered them towards the curtain. ‘We’ll get you to wait outside.’

Dianne came back in with cloths and the cold packs.

‘I’ll organise those, Dianne, thanks,’ said Luke, taking them from her. ‘Can you show the girls to a room where they can wait, and get next-of-kin information from them, please?’

‘C-could we have something to drink?’

Luke met the nurse’s concerned eyes. ‘A glass of fruit juice for them, please, Dianne, and perhaps see if there’s an apple or two in the staffroom.’

As Dianne showed the girls out, Terri said, ‘I’m going to have to set up a central line for fluids.’

‘Right. You scrub, we’ll monitor Jessie and get your equipment set up,’ he said, wrapping the cold packs and placing them in Jessie’s groin and armpits.

He’d organised a trolley with the required sterile packs by the time Terri had finished at the sink.

‘Gown, gloves.’ He nodded to the second trolley.

The soft rustling noises as she gowned up tormented him while he concentrated on opening the catheterisation kit and dropping drapes onto the sterile work surface.

‘Do me up, please?’

He turned to see her encased head to toe in surgical green, her elbows bent and gloved hands held relaxed in front of her, maintaining her sterile working space.

He knotted the straps at the nape of her neck, then reached down to do the same at her waist. The warmth he could feel on the tops of his fingers made them clumsy. Try as he may, he couldn’t close his mind to the enticing curve of the small of her back.

She turned to face him.

Brown eyes, huge and dark, stared at him from above her mask. His breathing hitched. He was a fool to think hospital clothing would instantly dissolve Terri’s appeal. He’d never seen anyone look quite as…sexy while preparing for an aseptic procedure.

‘Luke?’

He blinked, looked down to see she was handing him the tab for the outside string. She turned in front of him and took back the string. ‘Thanks.’

He swallowed. Perhaps he should have gone back to bed after all. Let Dianne call in the emergency back-up. Turning away, he snipped across the shoulder of Jessie’s top, exposing her clavicle and neck.

Nina came back with a bag of saline and began to set up the drip monitor.

A moment later, Dianne stuck her head around the curtain. ‘I’ve got contact details for Jessie’s mother. They’re down from Melbourne, staying with relatives for the weekend.’

‘Thanks, Dianne. I’ll make the call now.’ He took the paper from her and went to the phone. With the line ringing at the other end, Luke tucked the receiver under his ear.

‘Terri, the ambos are at your uncle’s place,’ Dianne said. ‘He’s aggressive and hypotensive. They’re concerned about trying to establish an IV so I suggested they scoop and run.’

‘Good idea,’ Terri said. ‘How’s Mary going with the rest of the race-picnic follow-ups?’

‘All done now,’ Dianne said. ‘She’s just managed to get through to Matt in Garrangay about the Macintoshes. I’ll go and set up a cubicle for your uncle.’

‘Thanks, Dianne,’ Terri said. ‘Nina, can you see if there’s any word from the lab tech on call? We’ll really need to be able to run some bloods through tonight.’

‘Will do.’

Luke pressed redial when the ring tone timed out. With the receiver held to his ear he turned to look in Terri’s direction. Her work was quick, neat, methodical. He congratulated himself on being able to view her nimble fingers with detachment. Sure, she was a pleasure to watch but, then, he always enjoyed seeing someone perform a task well. The peculiar feelings that keep threatening to muddle his mind when he was close to her, had to be a product of his stressful few weeks organising his trip back here.

‘Hello?’ The sleepy voice pulled his attention back to the phone. A short time later, he hung the receiver back on the wall cradle and allowed himself a brief moment to close his eyes. Weariness washed through him as his sympathy went out to Jessie’s mother. What a nightmare for a parent.

He straightened and turned around to find Terri’s eyes on him as she stripped off her gloves and mask. The beauty she brought to the everyday movements stopped the words in his mouth.

‘She’s on her way in?’

‘Yes.’ He cleared his throat, relieved when muscles moved back to normal function. Stepping back to the side of the gurney, he said, ‘Her brother’s bringing her in.’

Terri moved to stand beside him. Even with the pervasive smells of the hospital, he was piercingly aware of the subtle scent of soap she brought with her. Of her vitality, her fine-boned femininity, the warmth in her dark eyes.

‘This must have been a hard case for you on your first night here.’

His mind abruptly went back to the night of the kiss, the parallels with the sympathy she’d shown him then. He wanted it just as little now. He wasn’t sure what it was that he did want from her—but he knew it wasn’t that.

He rolled his shoulders. ‘It’s always hard seeing someone as young as Jessie taking risks like this with the rest of her life.’

‘Yes.’ Her lashes lowered, but not before he’d seen a quick flash of hurt at his brush-off.

An apology hovered on his tongue. Instead, he picked up Jessie’s chart and began detailing her treatment. ‘We’re looking at an ICU transfer for her?’

‘I haven’t made the call yet. The first priority was getting her stabilised.’ Her voice was all cool business. He must have imagined the moment of vulnerability.

He nodded and recorded another complete set of observations. The girl seemed to be holding her own, with her oxygen saturation and blood pressure markedly improved. Her temperature was steady. ‘You’ve done a good job, Terri.’

The curtain rattled beside them. ‘Terri, your uncle’s two minutes away.’

‘Thanks, Dianne. Be right there.’

‘You happy to take Mick’s case?’ Luke asked, glancing at her as he slotted his pen into the shirt pocket under his gown.

‘Yes, of course.’

He nodded. ‘I’ll call the air ambulance, organise Jessie’s transfer.’

‘The number’s on the wall by the phone.’ Terri turned to leave. He couldn’t stop his gaze from following her for the few paces it took her to clear the cubicle.

He breathed out a sigh, aware of the odd tension ebbing from his body with her disturbing presence gone. His physiology was more like that of a teenager.

He was a grown man.

A widower, with a daughter.

He dragged a hand down his face. The effect she had on him had to wear off.

Soon. For his sanity, it had to be soon.

Terri hurried through the department, confusion churning through her stomach. Luke had shut her out. Just as he had all those years ago on the beach. Well, what had she expected? They weren’t friends. Ryan had been his friend. She was just Ryan’s bratty little sister. It was probably all the years of hero worship and then that kiss on the beach that made her feel as though she knew Luke better than she did.

She sighed. Still, he’d be good to work for—which was a relief. She could see that much from this short stint. It had been a pleasure the way he’d fitted in so well, picking up the reins, knowing what she needed and facilitating treatment. He’d deferred to her position as the doctor on call while still commanding respect from everyone in the cubicle. The nurses, the teens, herself.

The teens’ rebellion had melted away in the face of his charm, information just flowing out of them under his non-judgemental questioning. The way he’d spoken with Jessie’s mother had been wonderful, his velvety voice so full of compassion and caring.

And he’d complimented her handling of the case. In all the years of working with Peter, her husband had never done that.

Luke’s praise meant a lot.

More than it should.

Not good! Scratch the surface and there was still a really bad case of hero worship going on underneath.

She was going to have to keep clear of him as much as possible—at work and away from it. Which might be difficult as she lived at the bottom of his parents’ garden.

Still, she had no reason to think that he would seek her out. She’d been the one doing the chasing all those years ago—even if she hadn’t realised it at the time. Things were different now. She wasn’t chasing anyone. She had enough on her plate.

To try to find her courage.

To learn to like the woman she was.