The Greek Doctor's Proposal. Molly Evans

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СКАЧАТЬ number.” With the mother still unconscious, they needed to find another immediate family member right away.

      As Roberto pointed to the numbers, Jeannine wrote them down. “Chances are, whoever answers that number isn’t going to speak English either. Do you want to make the call?” she asked Miklo.

      “Sure. Why don’t you go ahead and give him a little more sedation? He’s probably wondering what’s going on and right now I don’t think we can tell him.” Miklo’s serious eyes continued to observe the boy.

      Jeannine dialed the number and handed the phone to Miklo. While she listened to the rapid Spanish conversation, she added a few milligrams more medication. This sort of sedation ideally was figured in milligrams per kilogram of the child’s weight. Right now they were giving a low dose, enough to keep him quiet but not enough to put him under completely.

      Miklo hung up the phone. “The father’s coming in.” He bent over Roberto and relayed the information in a calm voice.

      Jeannine watched as the man made soft eye contact with the boy. This was a man who cared about people. When she’d been hospitalized so many doctors and nurses had taken care of her that she’d lost track of their names and faces over the months. The sense of caring was one she carried with her to this day and motivated her to get out of bed every morning, hoping that she could give that gift to someone else.

      Jeannine spoke to Roberto. “I know you can’t understand me, but I’m going to take good care of you.”

      Miklo turned and translated softly as she spoke.

      “I’m going to stay with you the whole way, okay?” she said, and gave him a smile.

      Miklo watched as Jeannine spoke to the boy. She connected with her patients, that was obvious. But there was something about the way she spoke, the way her long fingers stroked Roberto’s hair, and her gentle manner that spoke of compassion running deep in her veins. As if she understood what it meant to be on the other side of the gurney.

      “I’m going to have to take him to surgery as soon as the dad signs the operative consent.”

      “I thought you were the medical director,” she said.

      “I am, but I’m also a maxo-facial surgeon.” Miklo hesitated until Jeannine looked up at him. “I’m wondering if you would be able to accompany Roberto to the OR.”

      Jeannine blinked in surprise. “Me?” she squeaked. “I’m not an OR nurse.”

      “I know this is out of the ordinary, but I’m not asking you to perform the operation.” Miklo gave a sideways smile. “He hasn’t let go of your hand even under the sedation. Having a friendly face in the OR will go a long way to keeping his stress level down and my repairs in place.”

      Jeannine looked down at Roberto’s gauze-covered face and then at the intensity in Miklo’s. Could she refuse to help either one of them? “You’re right. I know that having staff who care about you helps you heal faster.” She was living testament to that. When her fiancé had fled in the face of her tragic illness, she had looked to her family, friends, and the nurses who had cared for her to get her through the worst of her crisis. She gripped the metal side rail with one hand. With her other hand, she touched the neck of her uniform.

      “You sound like you have some personal experience in that arena,” Miklo said, watching her with those dark, dark eyes.

      Before she could answer, she was interrupted by frantic, rapid Spanish being yelled down the hallway. “I think the father’s here,” Jeannine said with a cringe.

      “I’ll get him.” Miklo left the room and returned shortly with a hysterical man who spoke non-stop between sobs.

      Miklo explained the situation to him, pointing out the problems of the facial injuries, the IV, and what the plan was. Jeannine produced a clipboard with the Spanish consent form, and the father signed it with a trembling hand. After returning the clipboard, he took a handful of tissues that Jeannine offered him. “Estoy apesadumbrado,” she said, one of the few Spanish phrases she knew, and she was sorry for his pain.

      Miklo squeezed the man’s shoulder in a gesture of support as he wiped his tears from his face. “Gracias,” he said, and shook Miklo’s hand as well as Jeannine’s. Tears gathered in her eyes as he struggled to control himself.

      CHAPTER THREE

      ROBERTO clung to her hand as Jeannine walked alongside the gurney to the OR. Images she tried to suppress of her own recent trips to the OR attempted to insinuate themselves into her mind, but she forced them back. Now was not the time for a trip down the memory lane from hell.

      Miklo bent over the stretcher. He had quickly changed into OR scrubs and a bandanna-style head cover. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved a toy race car and placed it in Roberto’s hand, curving the little boy’s fingers around it.

      “What do you have there?” she asked.

      “Just a little something for him to hold.” Miklo shrugged and offered a quick smile. “I’ve found that children do better with some little token that they hold through procedures. Officially, it’s called a transitional object, but I just like to call it a car.” He shrugged, seeming to dismiss the idea.

      Jeannine smiled. “That’s a great bit of insight.” She leaned over and stroked Roberto’s hair back from the bandages on his face. “I should have thought of that.”

      “It’s not a big deal,” he said.

      “Really, it is. Not everyone would go to such lengths to see to the comfort of their patients. Especially the little ones.”

      “It’s just a toy car…”

      “That will go a long way to keeping Roberto’s stress level down.” She looked at the little car clutched in the bruised fingers. “I could have used one myself not long ago.”

      Miklo watched as her mind seemed to wander a bit. What could she have meant by that comment? Observing the slight tremor of her hand, he guessed that it had something to do with the recent change in status she had alluded to yesterday. But it was none of his business. Getting overly involved with staff members’ lives wasn’t part of his job.

      He had enough on his plate trying to live with the guilt that still plagued him daily. Taking care of patients and running his practice was all he could handle. Every time he handed a car to a child he was reminded of how he had failed in his life, how he had neglected his pregnant wife when she had needed him most, and of the child that would never be.

      Jeannine’s soft hand on his arm startled him from his haunted memory. Looking up, he met her concerned aqua gaze. “Sorry?”

      “I said, ‘Are you okay?’” she said, and removed her hand.

      Miklo rubbed a hand down over his face. “Lost myself there for a moment. Let’s get this boy inside, shall we?”

      “Of course,” Jeannine said, and watched as the man strode to the scrub sink.

      After he turned away, a woman dressed in green scrubs approached Jeannine. “I’m Dr. Harrison, anesthesia.”

      “Hi. СКАЧАТЬ