One Night in Buenos Aires. Sarah Morgan

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      “Gotcha.” The chief surgeon turned to face Emily and accepted her assistance to don sterile garb.

      “Liz, let’s get him intubated. Has next of kin been notified?” As the leading doctor in this case, Chase directed the care and the flow of procedures. This was his patient and his case until he turned it over to another physician.

      “Family’s on the way in.” Liz expertly opened the tray and prepared it for Chase.

      “Let’s get a line in this fellow, and you can get that blood into him, shall we?”

      Though Emily had assisted in this procedure many times in her career as a nurse and had been a travel nurse in all manner of hospitals from small community centers to large teaching hospitals, she’d never had the added pressure of having her ex-boyfriend breathing down her neck. After a deep breath in, she let it out slowly, trying to calm her nerves, which had shot out of control. Why had she thought this was a good idea again? Facing fears and all that? What rot that was. Right now, on the edge of panic, she’d be happy to spend the rest of the shift hiding in a dark closet somewhere.

      The procedure went as planned and as soon as the surgeon had secured the line with a few stitches she connected two pints of blood and opened the tubes full blast. The sooner she restored the depleted amount of blood the man had lost, the better his chances of survival.

      The hum around her was comforting and familiar, even though some of the staff were strangers. As they moved past the trauma room she recognized people with whom she’d previously worked. Some excitedly waved to her; others waved, then a memory surfaced in their eyes and their smiles stiffened. Coming back here, she’d known it would be a risk to her privacy. Some people would only remember working with her; some would only remember what had happened to her.

      Regardless, staff had jobs to do, and everyone seemed to be able to do it while talking about mundane issues like the weather or the upcoming sailboat races in the Chesapeake Bay. Now that the most emergent procedures had been carried out, they could take a breath and relax a bit.

      Except for Emily. She could never relax. That word was no longer part of her vocabulary, and she didn’t anticipate it ever being again. Some days it was all she could do to focus on her work and not let the demons hiding behind every curtain or closet door terrorize her. Though three years had passed since the incident that had changed her life, there were times it felt just like yesterday.

      “Liz, do you want me to call OR again?” She made the offer, hoping she could leave the room and make the call at the desk, give herself a bit of physical distance between her and Chase and draw a deep breath. Since the trauma she’d suffered three years ago, she had difficulty facing crowded rooms and tight spaces. Add stairwells and dark hallways to the list. Anxiety had been her dark shadow, and she hadn’t managed to kick it. Yet. Now, with Chase in close proximity, that dark demon had a choke hold on her and wasn’t letting go. She swallowed, trying to force down the memory of hands closing around her throat, assaulting her body. She coughed once, forcing her throat open, and clenched her hands into fists.

      “No, you stay here and monitor the patient. I’m going to call them back. Their transport team should have been here by now.” She reached for the phone just as the corner of a gurney poked through the entrance to the room.

      “We’re here. No worries.” One of the large men in scrubs held up his hands in surrender. He looked around the room. “Looks like you’re still at it. We’ll wait outside.”

      “No, take him now. I’ll go along and give you a report on the way.” Chase spoke to the surgeon. “He was involved in a rollover crash that threw him from the wreckage, pinned his left arm beneath the vehicle.” He shrugged into his crumpled lab coat as the crew prepared the patient for transport.

      “You must have gotten there pretty quick to get him here in time.” The surgeon also donned his lab coat and straightened his collar as if he were preparing to go to his office rather than about to perform a complicated emergency surgery. The man must have nerves of steel.

      “I went in the chopper. That helped.” Chase took a deep breath, as if some of that memory bothered him, but she knew better. Nothing really bothered him. Not back then and probably not ever. He must be part duck, because everything just seemed to roll right off him. Not that he was cold or unfeeling; he just compartmentalized things. And she’d been shoved into a compartment that hadn’t fit her after the incident, and it was one she couldn’t remain in and survive. She’d broken out and run until she couldn’t run any longer.

      Running never solved anything, but she’d had to figure that out on her own.

      “Good times. Did you bring the limb with you? We might be able to reattach it. Vascular team is stellar.” Chase nodded to the heavy-duty cooler on a counter behind him and one of the transport team picked it up, put it beneath the gurney. Both men grabbed opposing ends of the stretcher and moved with the patient toward the elevators, with the entire surgical team streaming down the hall behind them. Their voices faded into the distance as Chase and the surgeon continued their dialogue.

      “Emily? You okay?” Liz asked, as she began to clean the room, preparing it for the next patient. “Hey, there. You okay?”

      “What?” She blinked, took a breath and realized she was staring after Chase. “Oh, yes. I’m good.” To hide her discomfiture, she shoved a handful of used gauze dressings into the hazardous waste can. Good thing it was a big one. “I can clean the room if you have other things to do.” She’d appreciate a moment alone after the shocking experience she’d just had, and she didn’t mean the patient.

      “Let’s work together. That’s how we do things around here.” Liz carefully picked up the needles from the tray and disposed of them in the puncture-proof container hanging on the wall. “You might be used to getting all the crappy jobs as a traveler, but here we treat travel nurses the same as permanent staff.” She smiled at Emily. “Right off the bat you caught a tough case, so I’ll try to give you some lighter patients for the rest of the day. Not a guarantee, but I’ll try.”

      “Thanks.” It gave Emily a surge of warmth in her chest to hear the unit philosophy hadn’t changed since she’d last worked there. She smiled and felt a little bit lighter as she talked, a little more at home.

      Together they finished tidying the room and preparing it for the next patient. There would always be a next patient, a next trauma, a next disaster, and they had to be prepared for every kind that rolled through their doors.

      “So, the next question is that you seem to have recognized Dr. Montgomery. Am I right?” Liz had the skills of a trained ER nurse and no denial was going to get past her. She’d see right through it. “And some other staff seemed to know you.”

      “Yes. I used to work here with him. Three years ago.” She looked down and tried to control the beating of her heart. At one time Chase had been her heart, her life and her future, but that had all changed when she’d walked away from him. Though she hadn’t wanted to, she’d had to. “And there are other staff I know, too.” Some had saved her life in this very ER.

      “There seemed to be more than just a recognition of a former coworker, though.” Compassion and curiosity hung in her words, as if she suspected what Emily was going to tell her.

      “There was.” How much to tell without giving away her life story? “We dated at one time. But it was a while ago.” What seemed a lifetime ago. No need to tell Liz they had been a serious couple before she’d been brutally attacked by a serial СКАЧАТЬ