Cedar Bluff's Most Eligible Bachelor. Laura Iding

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      CHAPTER TWO

      ONCE she’d managed to get the poor woman to calm down, Hailey took Mrs. McLeod to the family center waiting area, leaving her in the kind, compassionate care of the elderly volunteer behind the desk.

      It was the nature of the emergency department to move quickly from one patient to the next. She loved emergency nursing but sometimes, like now, she regretted not being able to follow patients for longer than a few hours.

      As she tried to get caught up with the rest of the patients on her team, she couldn’t prevent her gaze from straying to Dr. Carter. Those moments when they’d stared at each other while Mrs. McLeod had cried in her arms had touched her heart—a heart she’d assumed was long frozen.

      Cedar Bluff was so different from the big city trauma center where she’d worked before. Here, it seemed as if everyone took their patient’s welfare more seriously. No, not more seriously, that wasn’t the right word.

      Personally. The staff took their patient’s welfare personally. Maybe because the community was so close. Because they ran into each other at the grocery store, at church or even at the park.

      “Hailey, I put another admission for you in room seven,” the charge nurse informed her.

      “Okay, thanks.” It was just after six o’clock in the evening and she was somewhat surprised she hadn’t had a new admission sooner. Not that she was complaining. The slightly slower pace made it easier to be thorough with every patient.

      She enjoyed working with people, mostly because it helped her to remember that everyone had difficult situations to work through. Some worse than others.

      She glanced down at her paperwork as she headed toward room two. A seven-year-old boy with a dislocated shoulder and possible broken arm. Her steps slowed as a chill snaked down her spine. One of the things every emergency nurse learned early on was to look out for the various signs of suspected abuse. A dislocated shoulder could be the result of a parent yanking on a child’s arm, and abuse cases often presented with broken limbs.

      Quelling her nervousness, she entered the room, mentally prepared for the worst. A young boy was lying on the cart, dried tears on his face. His mother, a pretty and obviously pregnant woman, was sitting beside him, holding his uninjured hand.

      “Hello, my name is Hailey and I’ll be your nurse for this evening,” she said, quickly introducing herself. Deliberately focusing her gaze on the child, she crossed over to the other side of his gurney. “Ben, can you tell me what happened? “

      The child glanced up at his mother, as if seeking permission, and the pregnant woman offered a strained smile. “Go ahead, Ben. Tell the nurse what happened.”

      “I was climbing the tree and I slipped,” he said. “My arm hurts real bad.”

      “I know—we’re going to give you something for the pain. But can you tell me what happened after you slipped? How did you hurt your arm?” Hailey sensed the boy’s mother was frowning at her, but she kept her gaze on the boy. His story seemed a bit fishy.

      “When I fell, I grabbed a branch, but it broke.” He sent another nervous glance at his mother.

      “It’s okay, Ben. I’m not mad at you,” the woman told him softly.

      “But I wasn’t supposed to climb the tree,” Ben said in a wobbly voice, sniffling loudly.

      “No, you weren’t. But I’m not mad at you. Go ahead and finish your story.”

      Hailey glanced at the pretty honey-blonde-haired mother, acknowledging that she sounded sincere. But she wasn’t going to let the woman off the hook yet. “What happened after the branch broke, Ben? Did you fall to the ground?”

      “No, I didn’t fall, I jumped. The branch didn’t break all the way. I was hanging in the air when I felt my arm start hurting. When I jumped, I fell backwards on the same arm.” His wide eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

      “Shh, it’s okay, Ben.” The pregnant mother sent Hailey a resigned glance. “It’s not the first time Ben’s had a broken bone. He’s a bit accident prone.”

      Accident prone? The hairs on the back of her neck lifted. She highly doubted it. The way the child was so afraid of his mother’s reaction didn’t sit well with her at all. “All right, Ben, I need to look СКАЧАТЬ