Her Undercover Defender. Debra & Regan Webb & Black

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       Chapter Two

      Charleston, South Carolina Tuesday, December 10, 6:55 a.m.

      At the nurses station in the center of the pediatric orthopedic ward, Terri Barnhart reviewed patient charts as she prepared to take over the day shift. She’d been moved up here last month, and most days they had more trouble with anxious parents than the patients themselves.

      “Room 412 needs a warning label,” her friend Suzette said quietly, looking over her shoulder. “The girl cried when MaryAnn took her vitals.”

      Terri quickly scrolled through the patient’s record. Ten years old, the girl was recovering from her second surgery on a broken leg. “Wow,” Terri whispered. “She’s afraid of everything, isn’t she?”

      Suzette nodded. “Just about the worst case of hospital phobia I’ve seen. Her mom’s a dream, but exhausted. We tried everything last night. Maybe you’ll get lucky and she’ll sleep through your shift.”

      Terri shared a quiet laugh with Suzette. “I’ll let you know if I figure her out.” She was known around the hospital for her ability to cope with more difficult patients. She considered it a by-product of helping her brother recover from the car accident that killed their parents, grateful something good had come out of that tragedy.

      Thinking of Trey sobered her. She hadn’t heard from him for three months now. What had been an all-consuming worry when she found out he’d dropped out of college became tangled with a little more anger every day. The police were certain he’d just gone off on his own, but if that was true, why hadn’t he contacted her?

      They’d been close as kids, through school and sports, right up to the day of her pinning ceremony when she graduated from the nursing program four years ago. Trey and their parents had been on their way to the auditorium eager to celebrate her success. A dump truck swerved into their lane and hit them head-on. Her parents died at the scene, and her brother had been plunged into the fight of his life.

      His extensive injuries had ended his plans to play college baseball. Several surgeries, months of physical therapy and hours of grief counseling had finally put him back together. Or so she’d thought as he eventually changed his career goals and applied to college.

      She couldn’t reconcile Trey’s effort and determination to attend school in Arizona with him willingly leaving it all behind scarcely a month after arriving there. If the police in Flagstaff sympathized with her, it didn’t motivate them to make his disappearance a priority.

      Thanksgiving had come and gone without a word from her brother, and Christmas was closing in. If he was alive and well—and she had to believe that—he would make contact. He had to know she would be worried about him, that she’d need some reassurance especially during the holidays. She trembled as another terrible image of him injured or worse filled her mind.

      “Honey, are you okay?” Suzette asked, waving her hand in front of Terri’s face.

      “I’m great.” Terri pasted a bright smile on her face. “Just waiting for the second cup of coffee to kick in.”

      “Right.” Suzette stretched out the single word. “Still no word from him?”

      As her best friend, Suzette was one of the few people who knew the whole situation about Trey. Suzette had helped her sort out the insurance, funeral arrangements and expenses after the accident. She’d listened to the doctors’ reports and helped her make the decisions Trey would have to live with. Suzette had sat by Trey’s bedside, taking over when Terri had been too sleep deprived to continue.

      “No,” Terri admitted. “You’ll be happy to know I’m counting by the week now rather than the day or hour.”

      “I suppose that’s progress,” Suzette said. “If you need to vent, you know I’ll listen.”

      Terri took a deep breath and looped her stethoscope around her neck. “I’m grateful, believe me, but I can’t tell you how nice it is to have other people to think about for the next eight to ten hours.”

      Suzette’s smile turned edgy. “Promise me one thing.”

      “What’s that?”

      “When he comes home—and I believe he will—I get first crack at whipping his butt.”

      A smile, the first genuine one in a while, tugged at the corners of Terri’s mouth. “Right after me.”

      “Just as long as I get to watch,” Suzette declared.

      As Suzette started for the elevator, Terri promised to call her later and then headed for room 412. Her first order of business on every shift was to introduce herself to her patients. In orthopedics, the majority of their patients were simply here for observation after surgery. The post-op process was more about managing pain and mobility than anything else. And fear, she thought, easing open the door of 412, temporary home to the young and frightened Brittney Markwald. The girl’s mother had pulled a chair close to the bed and was reading from a thick book.

      Terri smiled, recognizing the popular story, but as soon as Brittney saw her, she stared to cry. Terri stopped and tucked her hands into her pockets. “Good morning. I’m Terri, your nurse for today.” She focused on the mother. “Mrs. Markwald, I’ve reviewed the chart and everything looks great. The doctor should be in to see you before noon.”

      “Will he send us home?”

      “I can’t give you a definite answer on that, but as soon as I know something, you will, too.” She looked at Brittney but didn’t come any closer to the bed. “How’re you doing with the crutches today?”

      “She’s getting better,” Mrs. Markwald replied when Brittney only sniffled. “We just got back from the bathroom.”

      “Great,” Terri said to the mother. “Your doctor will be happy to hear that.” She took care of the things that needed her attention, giving Brittney plenty of space.

      “How’s the pain level?” Terri asked from the foot of the bed.

      The girl’s lower lip quivered as she shrugged.

      Terri had to find a way to crack through the child’s fear. “Can I check the ice in your friend there?” She pointed to the small cooler that circulated ice water through a cuff to keep swelling to a minimum.

      The girl shook her head, refusing to make eye contact. Suzette might be СКАЧАТЬ