Книга - The Nurse’s Brooding Boss

The Nurse's Brooding Boss
Laura Iding








The Nurse’s Brooding Boss

Laura Iding







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




Table of Contents


Cover Page (#ubd4c8de0-b786-55e9-99cd-fe2cde0c927b)

Title Page (#u5d801367-473b-5a87-aa13-7796343700e0)

Dedication (#uc214601b-31ef-55c5-bd8c-0e1a5a44871a)

Dear Reader (#u2ee6a17b-72c5-5d89-9c7a-c137608f83d2)

About the Author (#uefea5fed-d28e-5906-a8f6-958f25bf3048)

Chapter One (#u0f95260f-6990-5535-b67d-f7e68b5b7654)

Chapter Two (#uc1049f55-9e2b-5487-b05d-f432a61dc9ad)

Chapter Three (#u6105332c-74a4-5419-9825-03d06c15fd81)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


To the wonderful, wild, wacky women of CAFA. I look forward to seeing you every year.




Dear Reader


Many of us have done things in our past that we regret. Unfortunately there is no way to go back and fix the mistakes we’ve made, so somehow we end up finding a way to live with them.



But what if the mistake is something that has farreaching consequences? Life and death consequences? This is the main dilemma facing Elana and Brock in their touching story of love and forgiveness.



Brock Madison was driving his car when Elana’s sister pulled out in front of him. The crash wasn’t his fault, but Elana’s sister died at the scene despite his efforts to save her. Nine years later, Elana finds herself working for Brock at Trinity Medical Center’s Emergency Department. They are both dedicated to their careers, but will they let go of the pain from the past in order to find love and happiness?



I hope you enjoy THE NURSE’S BROODING BOSS. I love to hear from my readers, so please stop by and visit me at www.lauraiding.com



Happy Reading!



Laura


Laura Iding loved reading as a child, and when she ran out of books she readily made up her own, completing a little detective mini-series when she was twelve. But, despite her aspirations for being an author, her parents insisted she look into a ‘real’ career. So the summer after she turned thirteen she volunteered as a Candy Striper, and fell in love with nursing. Now, after twenty years of experience in trauma/critical care, she’s thrilled to combine her career and her hobby into one—writing Medical™ Romances for Mills & Boon®. Laura lives in the northern part of the United States, and spends all her spare time with her two teenage kids (help!)—a daughter and a son—and her husband. Enjoy!




CHAPTER ONE


ELANA SCHULTZ dashed into the emergency department of Trinity Medical Center, heading straight for the time clock, swiping her badge at exactly three o’clock in the afternoon.

On time. Barely. Breathing a sigh of relief that she’d made it, she quickly stuffed her purse into her staff locker and crossed over to the arena where the charge nurse was going through the shift assignments.

“Elana, you and Raine will take the trauma bay,” Stacey informed them. “Suzette, you’re taking the urgent care area. Emma, you’re arena team one. Liz, you’re arena team two…”

“How was your long weekend?” Raine asked in a hushed whisper so as not to interrupt Stacey’s monologue.

“Good. Everything went well. I’ll fill you in later,” Elana whispered back.

“Any questions about the assignments?” Stacey asked, looking up from her clipboard. After a moment of silence she nodded. “All right, there are twenty-seven patients on the board, with eleven still waiting to be seen. The trauma bay is currently empty; the last patient has been dispatched to the medical ICU. It’s been abusy day, but not too crazy. Let’s hope it stays that way for our shift.” Stacey set her clipboard aside. “Call me if you need help.”

That was their cue to leave. The group of nurses broke up, scattering to their various assignments.

“How’s your aunt Chloe?” Raine asked as she fell into step beside Elana on their way to the trauma bay.

“She’s much better. Her cardiac stent procedure went off without a hitch.” Technically, Chloe Jenkins wasn’t Elana’s blood relative, she was Elana’s foster mother, the last and by far the best in a string of horrible experiences. If not for Chloe, Elana knew there was a very good chance she would have ended up on the streets.

She owed Chloe her life.

“I’m so glad she’s doing all right,” Raine said softly.

Elana smiled. “Me too. You know how close I am to Chloe.” Her mother, Louisa Schultz, had been in a nursing home since Elana was fifteen after suffering a complete relapse of her nervous breakdown. Her mother’s emotional state had collapsed after Elana’s father had walked out on them. She’d gotten better slowly over time until Felicity’s death had sent her into a deep emotional breakdown. Elana still loved her mother and faithfully visited every weekend, but it had been nine years, and her mother still hadn’t spoken a single word.

“You missed the big announcement while you were gone,” Raine said.

Elana raised a brow and took the trauma pager from the first shift trauma nurse, who looked all too eager to give it up. “What? We’re all getting pay raises?”

“Yeah, right.” Raine let out a snort of laughter. “No. There’s a new doctor on staff. He started the day after you left, as a matter of fact.”

Elana shrugged, sweeping a gaze over the trauma bay. She got along fine with the doctors she worked with, but she didn’t go ga-ga over them like some of the other nurses did. Most of the doctors were married anyway, and the ones who weren’t were—in her opinion—single for a reason.

“I’m telling you, Elana, he’s hot. And he’s single. At least, I’m pretty sure he is—Suzette was pumping him for personal information.”

Their trauma pagers went off simultaneously, interrupting Raine’s story. Elana read the text message.

Motor vehicle crash, 23 y/o female trauma victim ejected from the car, intubated on the scene. ETA two minutes.

Motor vehicle crash. Female trauma victim ejected from the car. Just like Felicity had been.

Elana swallowed hard and clipped her pager back onto the waistband of her scrub pants. Even after nine years, any reminder about her sister’s tragic death made her feel sad. With her mother’s emotional collapse and her absent father, Elana’s life had spiraled downhill. Thank heavens for Chloe, who’d rescued her before she was too far gone.

“I wonder if he’s working today?” Raine asked.

It took her a minute to figure out Raine was still talking about the new doctor.

“How do you know he’s single?” Elana asked.

“Because Suzette talked to him. Weren’t you listening? He’s young, just turned thirty, and he’s hot. Like, steamy hot.”

No, she hadn’t been listening. Elana shrugged again and crossed over to the supply cabinet, opening drawers and ensuring the day shift staff had restocked everything after the last trauma patient had been transferred up to the medical ICU.

“There he is,” Raine hissed.

Before she could turn to look, the double doors of the ambulance bay burst open. Two paramedics wheeled in the young female trauma patient. Elana took her place at the right side of the patient, while Raine took the left. Trauma resuscitations were not as chaotic as they were made to look on television. Every person had their role to play, and predesignated responsibilities, depending on where they stood. Elana tended to take the right side because she liked doing the vital signs and initial assessment.

“Two liters of Ringer’s lactate are going into respective antecubital eighteen-gauge IVs. Suspected cervical fracture, limbs flaccid at the scene, C-collar in place. Intubated in the field with a seven-point-five endotracheal tube.”

Elana connected the patient to the heart monitor, listening as the paramedics rattled off the pertinent information. The new doctor stood at the foot of the bed, but Elana’s attention was riveted on the patient. This young woman was older than Felicity had been, but only by a couple of years.

A suspected cervical fracture. Possibly paralyzed for life. How awful. Felicity had died at the scene of her accident, but, really, which fate was worse? Staring down at the young woman’s blood-streaked face, Elana wasn’t sure.

She did a quick assessment, getting the first set of vital signs and doing a quick listen to the patient’s heart and lungs. When she finished, she flipped her stethoscope around her neck. “Vitals are low, BP 76/40, pulse tachy at 122, pupils sluggish but reactive and equal in size. Lungs coarse but bilateral breath sounds noted.” She glanced up at the new physician and froze.

Brock Madison.

Her chest tightened, and she had to remind herself to breathe. No, it couldn’t be. She had to be mistaken. She hadn’t seen him in years. Maybe this guy just looked like an older version of the Brock Madison she remembered.

“Do you want to continue the Ringer’s lactate solution, Dr Madison?” Raine asked.

“Yes, although we may need to transfuse a unit of blood too.”

The room spun, and Elana had to grab onto the side rail to keep herself upright. Dr Madison. Brock Madison was the new doctor on staff.

And he was also the driver of the car that had hit her sister’s vehicle nine years ago. The man who’d caused Felicity’s death.



Brock hid his surprise at seeing Elana Schultz again, although the shocked expression on her face mirrored the turmoil in his gut. With an effort, he forced himself to ignore his personal problems and concentrate on the young trauma victim before him.

“Start with two units of O-negative blood,” Brock ordered. “We need to get her stabilized before we send her to the CT scanner to evaluate the extent of her injuries.”

Raine did as he asked, but Elana simply stood there, hanging onto the side rail and staring down at the patient, clearly in shock. As much as he appreciated what she must be going through, at this critical juncture he needed the entire trauma team to be working together. He moved closer, keeping his voice low so it wouldn’t carry. “Elana, if you can’t do this, please find someone to take your place.”

She snapped her head around to look at him. The fierce expression flaring in her eyes nearly made him take a step backward. After a moment’s hesitation, she glanced away, took a deep breath and let it out slowly, unclasping her tense fingers from the side rail. “I’m fine. Do you want a full set of labs?”

“Yes. We need to know if she’s bleeding internally.” Brock couldn’t help admiring the way Elana jumped back into the trauma resuscitation. He’d known she’d graduated from college with a nursing degree because he’d kept tabs on Felicity’s younger sister over the years. But he hadn’t realized Elana had taken a position here at Trinity. Ironic that she’d chosen to work in the emergency department, providing care to trauma patients. Like her sister.

And yet hadn’t he gone into emergency medicine for the same reasons?

He watched as she drew a set of blood gases and then filled another four lab tubes with blood. Reassured that Elana was doing all right, he turned his attention back to the patient. He was somewhat worried about the young woman’s lung function, but, even more, he needed to know what her hematocrit and hemoglobin levels were.

“Get me those H & H results stat. In the meantime, let’s make sure there are no other obvious sites of bleeding.”

Elana and Raine worked well together, he noted. Since arriving at Trinity Medical Center, he’d been impressed with how well the emergency and trauma center staff gelled, from the techs to the nurses up to and including the physicians. A true team approach. Things hadn’t been quite this cohesive in his former position.

Within a few minutes, Elana reported new vitals. “BP up to 84/42, pulse a little less tachy at 117. We’re making some headway.”

He nodded, agreeing with her assessment. If they could get this patient’s blood pressure up to the nineties, he’d be satisfied enough to send her to the CT scanner. If she needed emergency surgery on her spine, he didn’t want to delay care. On the other hand, he didn’t want her to crash in the CT scanner, either.

“We have the H & H results,” Elana announced. “Hemoglobin is 7.8 and hematocrit is 29.”

“Give another two units of O-negative blood, Raine,” he ordered. “Keep running the fluids too; I’d like to see her systolic blood pressure over ninety. I’m going to call Radiology to make sure they’re ready for her. One of you is going to need to go with her to the CT scanner.”

“I’ll go,” Elana volunteered.

He gave a brief nod, turned on his heel and walked to the nearest phone. Within moments he had everything arranged with the radiologist on call.

His gaze settled back on Elana, watching her as she worked. With her jet-black hair pulled into a long ponytail, her high cheekbones and olive-toned skin, a gift from her Hispanic mother, she was stunningly beautiful. She’d grown up from the gangly teenager she’d been nine years ago.

And she had every reason to hate him.

The familiar guilt surged like bile in the back of his throat. He tore his gaze away and swallowed hard, trying to focus on the monitor above the female trauma patient’s head. This wasn’t the time or the place to wallow in the mistakes of the past.

“Blood pressure is up to 95 systolic after the first unit of blood. We still have one more unit to give, but she seems to have stabilized for now. Do you want me to take her for a CT scan?” Elana asked.

He nodded, the lump lodged in the back of his throat making it impossible to speak.

She didn’t need to be asked twice. Within moments, she and Raine had the patient disconnected from the main monitor and reconnected to the portable one they used for transporting patients. As Elana whisked the patient away, he found himself wondering if she’d volunteered to go to the CT scan for the sole purpose of getting away from him.

Possibly. No, probably. Damn. The last thing he wanted to do was to cause Elana any more grief. He certainly didn’t want her to quit her job because of him. She must love trauma nursing to have chosen to work here, and Trinity Medical Center was the only level-one trauma center in Southeastern Wisconsin.

He sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face. Talk about his rotten timing. If he’d known Elana was working here, he could have handled their first meeting a little differently.

No, who was he trying to kid? There was nothing he could have done to make this meeting easier for her. The scalding look she’d sent him had stabbed deep. He’d leave himself if not for the fact that his brother needed him. And the fact that he’d signed a twelve-month contract.

“So, Dr Madison, how do you like it here at Trinity so far?” Raine asked, cleaning up the area around the trauma bay.

He cleared his throat. “It’s great. I’m glad I made the move from Minneapolis.”

“Minneapolis’s loss is our gain,” Raine said with a smile.

Raine was pretty enough with her dark red hair and her bright green eyes, but he wasn’t interested in the signals she was sending out. He didn’t date, especially anyone who might be interested in a future. He couldn’t help glancing at his watch, wondering where Elana was.

He wished they could talk. There had to be some way to ease the tension that shimmered between them.

For years he’d longed for a chance to explain. To redeem himself in her eyes if at all possible.

So much for seeking forgiveness. Remembering the banked fury in her dark eyes, he knew there was no chance in hell Elana would give him that option.

He didn’t deserve her forgiveness.



“How much longer?” Elana asked, casting a worried glance at her patient. The young patient’s name was Jamie Edgar, and her blood pressure was starting to slip downward.

“Ten minutes,” the tech assured her.

She increased the flow of the fluids to help maintain Jamie’s blood pressure. Keeping busy was helping her to forget about Brock Madison, who happened to be waiting for them in the trauma bay.

What on earth had she done to deserve this? Why after all these years was it her misfortune to have to work with the man she despised?

She rubbed her aching temple, hearing Chloe admonishing her in her mind. Don’t talk like that, young lady. Brock Madison wasn’t the person at fault in the accident, your sister was. She pulled out right in front of him! It’s certainly not his fault Felicity died.

In some tiny corner of her mind Elana knew Chloe was right. Her sister had pulled out onto the busy highway in front of Brock without warning. But he’d also been speeding, at least according to one of the witnesses on the scene. Brock’s father had been a cop at the time, and everyone thought his dad had pulled strings to cover up the truth.

Including Elana.

Besides, did it matter? The irrevocable fact remained that Brock stole Felicity’s life.

Nothing on earth could change that.

And now she’d be forced to work with the man she detested.

“There, we’re all finished.” The radiology tech broke into her troubled thoughts. “Do you want me to call the ED to let them know you’re on your way back?”

She forced a smile. “Sure, that would be great.”

Jamie’s blood pressure slipped a little further, and Elana quickened her pace, pushing the gurney as fast as she dared, keeping one eye on the monitor and the other on the hallway. Luckily, the radiology department was not far from the emergency department.

“I’m losing her blood pressure,” Elana announced as she entered the trauma bay.

“Hang another unit of O-neg blood. The spine surgeons are on their way down. The radiologist already called me with the CT results. She has a severe compression fracture in her cervical spine. If they can operate quickly, they might be able to minimize the damage to the spinal cord.”

Elana nodded, indicating she’d heard him. Relieved that the spine damage may not be permanent, she made sure Jamie was ready for the OR, taking off her rings and her necklace and putting them into a valuables envelope to be stored in the hospital safe.

The OR team showed up and took over the case, taking Jamie straight up to surgery. Once her patient was gone, Elana felt the all too familiar letdown. She enjoyed trauma nursing, but there was a part of her that had considered moving to the critical care area so that she could follow the trauma cases more closely. She’d miss the thrill of caring for patients coming in right from the scene, but it would also be great to see some of these patients actually recover.

“Elana? Are you all right?”

She glanced at Brock, her stomach knotting with apprehension. How could she be all right with him around? She needed to get away from him. Far, far away. “Of course. Excuse me while I restock the supplies before the next trauma call comes in.”

“I’ll do it,” Raine offered, glancing between Elana and Brock with frank curiosity.

She ground her teeth together, wishing Raine wouldn’t try to be quite so helpful. Since Raine hurried to do the stocking, and Brock simply stood there, watching her with concern, she turned and headed towards the staff lounge. Unfortunately she wasn’t going to get the privacy she needed since Brock was right behind her.

“What do you want?” she asked, spinning around to face him and crossing her arms over her chest defensively.

“First of all, I wanted to say I’m sorry. I had absolutely no idea you worked here.” Brock’s sincere expression didn’t succeed in soothing her annoyance. Maybe she had noticed the shock in his eyes when he’d recognized her, but she was the one who’d lost a sister. “I moved home for family reasons, not to torment you.”

“Doesn’t matter to me where you work,” she said in a stiff, formal tone. “You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.”

He stared at her for a long moment, and she struggled not to squirm beneath his intense scrutiny. She could see why Raine had called him steamy hot. He wore his chocolate-brown hair a little longer than was fashionable, but with his chiseled jaw and strong chin he was ruggedly attractive. To everyone else, maybe. Not to her. “If that’s what you want. But it might help if we could spend some time talking things through.”

Talk things through? She blinked. Was he serious? The nerve of him acting as though talking things out would somehow bring Felicity back. She curled her fingers into fists, her nails digging into the palm of her hand, and for a moment she relished the tiny flash of pain.

Maybe they had to work together, but, as far as she was concerned, there would never be anything remotely personal between them.

“No. I don’t think so.”

He frowned. “Why not?”

“Because there is absolutely nothing you have to say that I want to hear.” With that, she turned, leaving a gaping Brock standing behind her as she walked away.




CHAPTER TWO


FINISHING her shift, while being stuck in the trauma bay with Brock Madison, was the hardest thing Elana had had to do since moving into her first foster home at the tender age of fifteen.

He’d wanted to talk things through.

Yeah. Right. To make himself feel better, no doubt.

Elana swallowed hard, trying without success to keep from ruminating over Brock Madison. Even when he wasn’t in the immediate area, she’d found herself searching for him. If only so she could find a way to stay as far away from him as possible.

Raine was right: Brock was devastatingly attractive. Too much so. In those brief moments when he’d pinned her with his sizzling blue gaze, she’d nearly forgotten how much she hated him.

Brock had matured over the years. She shouldn’t have been surprised; it wasn’t as if she was the same angry and confused fifteen-year-old, either. But for some reason, her brain had always pictured him as the young, reckless college student who’d been speeding down the highway when Felicity pulled out in front of him.

For years she’d railed against the unfairness of it all. Brock had essentially walked away from the crash with only a couple of minor injuries—a broken collarbone and a few cracked ribs—while Felicity had died at the scene.

Enough. She needed to stop wallowing in the past. She threw herself into her work with a vengeance. Elana thought she’d successfully hidden her feelings towards Brock, but at the end of their shift, Raine cornered her in the staff lounge.

“All right, give. What is up with you and Dr Madison?”

Elana raised a brow, trying to keep her expression impassive. “Nothing.”

Raine rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure, and I’m Princess Stephanie. Come on, Elana. It’s obvious you two know each other. For one thing, he called you by name before anyone had introduced you. And then he followed you to the staff lounge to talk to you in private. Did the two of you have a relationship in the past or what?”

Relationship? Good Lord, nothing could be further from the truth. “No. I barely know the guy.”

“I don’t believe you.” Raine swiped her badge through the time clock, and Elana followed suit. “I’m not blind. There’s a definite tension between you.”

Elana suppressed a sigh, knowing Raine would continue to badger her endlessly unless she explained. “Remember when I told you my sister died in a car crash nine years ago?”

Raine frowned. “Yes.” Then her eyes rounded. “Was your sister dating Brock at the time?”

“No. Worse.” Elana walked into the staff locker room to retrieve her purse. She slammed the locker door shut with more force than was necessary. “Brock was the driver of the car that hit her.”

“No! Really?” Raine’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“I wish I was.” Elana’s expression was grim, and she dropped onto the bench, her shoulders slumping with sudden fatigue. Keeping up the pretense that everything was okay when it really wasn’t had been exhausting. “I don’t know if I can do this, Raine,” she whispered. “I don’t think I can work with him.”

Raine sat down beside her, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Don’t make any rash decisions, Elana. I’m sure this has been a shock, but Brock Madison seems to be a really good doctor. Maybe you need to give him a chance.”

Give him a chance? Why? What about Felicity’s chance? Her sister’s life had ended far too young, and it was all Brock’s fault.

She didn’t want to give him a chance. Logically, Elana knew Raine might be right, since Chloe would have told her the same thing. But letting go of the past wasn’t easy. Those dark years after her sister’s death had been so awful. She winced and rubbed her pounding temple. “I can’t,” she murmured.

“Elana, you can. You’re an adult now, and you’re strong. Remember I’m always here for you if you need to talk.” Raine gave her a quick hug. “Call me anytime.”

Elana flashed a weak smile. “Thanks.”

They gathered their things and headed outside to the staff parking lot. The night air was chilly for April, and she hunched her shoulders against the breeze, having left her coat in the car in her rush to get to work on time.

That night Elana couldn’t sleep. Because there was no way she was going to be able to work with Brock. And she mourned the fact that her career as a trauma nurse was likely over.



“Brock? Do you have a minute?”

Elana’s voice made him stop and turn in amazement. She’d called out to him. Voluntarily. Her dark eyes were warm and welcoming, making her even more beautiful than the first time he’d seen her at work. “Elana. It’s great to see you.”

Her tremulous smile made his chest tighten with anticipation. “I’ve been looking all over for you, Brock. I wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for the way I treated you the other day. I had no right to be angry with you.”

“I—don’t know what to say. Does this mean you’ve forgiven me?” He could barely allow himself to hope.

She smiled. “Yes, Brock. I forgive you.”

The incessant ringing of his phone pulled him from the dream. With a low groan of regret, Brock pried his eyes open, searching for his cell phone. Whoever was calling him this early in the morning had better have a good reason.

He’d wanted to stay asleep. To spend more time with the Elana in his dreams. The beautiful, smiling Elana who didn’t blame him for her sister’s death.

“Yeah?” He opened his phone without looking at the screen to see who was calling.

“Brock? You gotta help me, man.” He could barely hear his younger brother Joel’s voice over the shrill wailing of a baby in the background. “I can’t take it any more. Tucker’s crying non-stop. There has to be something wrong with him. Something bad. He cries all the time!”

Wincing at the desperation in his brother’s tone, he swung out of bed. Joel had got his girlfriend, Lacey, pregnant, and while Brock admired his brother’s efforts, Joel was obviously struggling in his attempt to do the right thing. “Try to relax. Babies can sense when something is wrong. Tucker is only seven weeks old; maybe he’s a little colicky. Does he seem better riding in the car? Or in the baby swing?”

“No. Nothing works.” Joel’s tone rose in agitation. “He just cries and cries. I’m telling you, there’s something seriously wrong!”

Brock scrubbed a hand over his chin. Joel was only twenty-two, but his girlfriend, Lacey, was even younger, just six months past nineteen. They were young and finding it difficult to handle the responsibility of a brand-new family. Hence Brock’s decision to move back to Milwaukee. Especially after hearing their father had refused to offer Joel any financial help. He felt bad for Joel. The screaming baby in the background was already getting on his nerves, and he wasn’t there with them. “All right, maybe there is something going on with the baby other than just colic. You and Lacey need to take Tucker to the doctor for a check-up.”

“We thought you could look at him,” Joel said. “Since neither of us has health insurance.”

“There’s a low-income family clinic that caters for mothers and babies in Lacey’s position,” Brock explained patiently. “I don’t mind taking a look at Tucker, but I’m not a peds expert. And I can’t run lab tests on him to see if he has some sort of infection. Or do a chest X-ray of his lungs if he needs one. You could bring him to the ED while I’m working, but that will end up costing you more than simply going to the clinic. I really think you should go where they can offer the most help.”

“All right. Where is this so-called clinic?” Joel asked in defeat.

Brock gave him the directions, wondering if the hospital had failed to give Lacey this information after she’d given birth. They certainly should have done more to help these two young kids, especially knowing Lacey’s financial situation. They’d qualify for food support as well as basic health-care needs.

“You’re going to be fine, Joel,” he tried to reassure his brother.

“I don’t know,” Joel protested. “I’m not as strong as you, Brock.”

“Yes, you are.” He wished he could give his brother the self-confidence he needed. “You’re stronger than you know.”

“I’ll talk to you later,” Joel said evasively.

He didn’t push, knowing Joel was under a huge amount of stress. Their father had basically tossed Joel onto the street. Brock had helped them move into a small duplex apartment and paid the security deposit along with the first three months of rent. Joel was only working part-time at a gas station, so Brock had also been trying to help his brother find a full-time job, one that would ideally provide decent benefits. Raising a child in this day and age without health insurance was not easy.

He stared at his phone. Should he have offered to take Tucker to the clinic? No, as much as he wanted to help his brother, he couldn’t do everything for Joel. His brother would become more self-confident if he grew up a bit and took some responsibility.

After tossing his cell phone back down on his discarded clothes, Brock flopped back down on his bed, throwing his arm up over his eyes. He wished he could fall back asleep, picking up the dream with Elana where he’d left off. For a few brief moments, her forgiveness had swept away the dark cloud of guilt, making him feel light-hearted and happy.

But it was only a dream. In reality, Elana hadn’t forgiven him for the accident that had stolen her sister’s life. And, considering the way their conversation had ended so abruptly yesterday, he had to acknowledge she never would.

He knew he needed to let it go, but the sting of her rejection continued to gnaw at him. Why he was letting it bother him, he had no idea. He’d carried the guilt of that night for a long time. Had changed his major to medicine the semester after the accident, vowing to make a difference in other people’s lives.

He’d also done what he could for Elana. More than she realized. Yet nothing he could do would bring Felicity back.

Her sister’s death had haunted him for years. No reason for that to change now.

The best thing he could do for Elana was to stay far away from her. He’d caused her enough pain. He refused to cause any more.



Elana hadn’t slept well, but her fatigue didn’t keep her in bed for long. Today was Wednesday, the day she was scheduled to work a four-hour stint volunteering at the low-income family clinic providing care to people who didn’t have access to better health care.

Normally she enjoyed her hours at the clinic, as there was something immensely satisfying about helping people in need. Some of the cases were heart-wrenching, the pregnant mothers trying to overcome their addictions, or the young people who’d contracted HIV, but there were also a lot of people who just needed a helping hand.

Today her head pounded with a dull ache she’d had ever since she’d woken up that morning. No doubt a result of a restless night, which was all Brock Madison’s fault.

But she wasn’t going to think about him. Brock was just another ED doctor she’d have to work with. And if he liked trauma, then maybe she’d ask Stacey to assign her to one of the arena teams for a while. At least until she figured out what her options were.

Staying in the ED long-term was clearly not going to work. She needed to find a new career and fast.

Shaking off her depressing thoughts, Elana drove her tiny compact car down to the clinic. The clinic was in the middle of the low-income district, several miles from her tiny apartment. The clinic had to be close to where people in need lived because many of these clients didn’t have cars or other means of reliable transportation.

Finding a parking space was always a challenge. As she walked inside the clinic, she discovered Tina Kaplan was the receptionist on duty.

“Hi, Tina. How are you today?”

“Great, Elana. How is your aunt Chloe doing?”

All of the staff at the New Beginnings Clinic knew Chloe, her foster mother, had volunteered her time here as a receptionist while Elana was growing up. Elana was glad that she could now return the favor, carrying on her foster mother’s tradition. “She’s wonderful. The cardiac stent went very well.”

“I’m so glad.” Tina handed over the list of patients who were already waiting to be seen. Their clients often began lining up at the door a half hour before the clinic officially opened.

“Me too.” Elana took the list and scanned it, as always checking to see which of her previous clients might be making a return visit. “Thanks, Tina. Who’s the doctor coming in today?”

“Hmm.” Tina glanced up at the handwritten schedule. “Looks like Liz Jacoby is the MD on the schedule today.”

Liz was an exceptionally talented African-American woman who donated a lot of her time to the New Beginnings Clinic. Most of their clients didn’t know that Liz Jacoby was also a nationally renowned breast cancer physician. Elana loved working with her. Her dull headache began to fade. “Excellent. We should have a good day, then.”

“When do you want me to start sending patients back?” Tina asked.

“Give me five minutes to make sure everything is well stocked, and then you can let ’em rip.”

Tina laughed, and Elana smiled as she headed back to the exam room. She routinely saw the patients first and then got the physician involved in their care as needed. Their system would have worked better with more volunteers, but so far, other than Raine, she hadn’t convinced any of her other co-workers to help by donating their time.

The first few patients came through with simple enough concerns. One woman had a bad cough with a fever that Elana suspected was a case of bronchitis turning into pneumonia. The next two patients were severely dehydrated from the stomach flu that was making its way through the city. Another young man came in with a serious burn on his forearm, with a story she absolutely did not believe.

“Jackson, there is no way you got this burn from a lighter falling on your arm,” she told him sternly. “Do you really think I’m that stupid? I can tell this is a gasoline burn. So why don’t you tell me what really happened?”

The young man refused to talk. Elana sighed and applied a generous amount of ointment to the burn, wrapping it with gauze to keep it clean and dry. Maybe Liz would be able to pry more information out of the taciturn young man.

“Elana?” Tina called from the other side of the door.

“Yes?”

“How much longer? There’s a young woman and a crying baby that need to get in to see you right away.”

That didn’t sound too good. She reached over and opened the door. “I’m nearly finished. Jackson just needs to see Dr Jacoby while I get his wound supplies together.”

“I’ll do it. Tell me what he needs.”

Elana raised a brow. “What’s going on? Is the baby that sick?”

“I don’t know, but the mother is crying almost as hard as the baby.” Tina’s eyes were full of compassionate concern. “I can’t stand it.”

“All right, get him ten rolls of gauze and a jar of burns cream. Jackson, you need to change this dressing twice a day and return here to the clinic in five days, do you understand? We need to make sure that burn doesn’t get infected.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Tina hustled the young man out of the exam room, taking him over to see the doctor. Elana quickly threw out the paper strip from the exam table and wiped down the surface with a disposable bleach cloth. Within two minutes, a young waif-thin girl lugging a crying baby on her shoulder came into the room.

“Good morning, I’m the nurse here, my name is Elana. What’s going on today?”

The young woman’s eyes were swollen and red from her weeping. “He just keeps crying and crying. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” she murmured.

“There now, I’m sure it’s nothing you’re doing wrong,” Elana said firmly. “What’s your name? Do you mind if I hold him for a minute?”

Letting out a loud sniffle, the young woman handed the baby over. “I’m Lacey, and his name is Tucker. He’s seven weeks old.”

“Hi, Tucker,” Elana crooned, gently nuzzling the baby, testing the temperature of his skin. He did feel warm, but that could just as easily be because of the crying. She loved babies, another reason she volunteered her time here. Giving him one last nuzzle, she laid him on the exam table and undid his diaper, looking for obvious signs of irritation, like diaper rash, before using her stethoscope to listen to his heart and lungs.

Not an easy task while he was crying.

“Are you breast-feeding?” Elana asked, her heart going out to the waif-thin girl. The baby sounded a bit congested, but it could be merely the result of his non-stop crying. His ears didn’t look red, ruling out an ear infection.

“No. We give him whatever formula is on sale at the store,” Lacey admitted.

“That might be your problem,” Elana said gently. “Colicky babies don’t tolerate dairy-based formula, and you should really stick to one brand. I want you to try the soy-based formula, and nothing else. I’ll give you some free samples here.”

“Are you sure it’s nothing more serious?” Lacey asked, swiping her nose on her sleeve. The motion pushed up the sleeve of her shirt, revealing a few bloody cuts on her forearm. As if she sensed Elana’s gaze, she quickly covered the area back up again. “I can’t believe Tucker is crying this much just because of colic.”

Elana wanted to ask about the suspicious marks she saw on Lacey’s arm, but at the moment little Tucker was her primary concern. “Don’t underestimate colic, Lacey. I’ve seen many mothers reduced to tears over inconsolably crying babies. There are many ways to treat colic. First let me get a soy-based formula sample for you to try, okay?”

Lacey sniffled again and nodded.

“I’ll be right back.” Elana handed her the baby and hurried over to their jam-packed supply cabinet and found a six-pack of soy-based cans of formula and a disposable bottle. After quickly preparing the bottle, she brought it back to the exam room.

“Here, see if he’ll take this,” she instructed.

Lacey held the baby in the crook of her arm and tried the bottle. At first Tucker sucked greedily, then, after a few minutes, he turned his head away and began crying again.

“See how he’s hungry but then turns away? That’s another classic sign of colic, too much gas. We can give him some anti-gas medicine in an eyedropper that should work. And I will get Dr Jacoby to take a listen to him just to be sure there’s nothing else going on.” Elana hesitated and then carefully asked, “Do you have anyone to help you, Lacey? Or are you raising Tucker all alone?”

Lacey shrugged, trying to get Tucker to take the bottle again. “Joel, the baby’s father, is trying to help me, but he can’t stand it when Tucker cries.”

Oh, boy. Sounded like Joel and Lacey needed a lot of help. And she couldn’t dismiss those cuts on Lacey’s arms. She understood how hopelessness could suffocate your soul.

“Lacey, I’m here for you. I’d like you to come back in two days and bring Joel with you. You both need to learn how to deal with a colicky baby. I’ve heard using a baby swing alongside a noisy vacuum cleaner works, and car rides. Once Tucker gets the dairy products out of his system and starts on the anti-gas medication, he should be better.”

“Joel’s brother is a doctor, and even he thought there might be something more wrong with the baby,” Lacey said defensively.

She frowned at Lacey’s tone. Did the poor girl feel as if she wasn’t a good mother because she couldn’t handle the baby’s crying? “Really? Is his brother a pediatric specialist?”

“No, but Brock works in the emergency department at Trinity Medical Center.”

Brock? Had she heard correctly? Her stomach clenched, and she forced herself to ask, “What’s Joel’s last name?”

“Madison. Joel Madison.”




CHAPTER THREE


Later that day, Elana couldn’t stop thinking about Lacey’s plight. The cuts on that poor girl’s forearm haunted her. Lacey needed help. For herself and for her baby. More than just a quick clinic visit.

No matter how much she wanted to stay far away from Brock, she simply couldn’t ignore her conscience. Lacey was obviously in serious trouble; the telltale cuts on her forearm were not to be taken lightly. And Tucker was Brock’s nephew. Hadn’t Brock mentioned that he’d moved home to deal with some family issues?

There was no way around it. She needed to talk to Brock. To let him know her concerns about Lacey, Joel and their baby.

When she arrived at work, she walked into the arena and was surprised to discover they were busier than usual for a Wednesday evening. Patients streamed in seemingly from nowhere.

She couldn’t deny a hint of relief at the reprieve. There was no time to talk to anyone, not when so many patients were in need of assistance. She jumped into the fray, helping to move patients through the system. But just when they’d started to catch up, a local discount store reported a serious gas leak. Dozens of people flooded the ED to be ruled out for potential carbon monoxide poisoning.

Luckily, most of the discount store patrons weren’t too sick, but each patient had to be registered, screened, treated and released, taking up a significant amount of time and energy. Elana had been pulled from the trauma bay to help, giving her what should have been a welcome break from working with Brock Madison.

Except she still really needed to talk to him about Lacey. At least, that was what she told herself when she found she was constantly looking for him.

“Do we have any more carbon monoxide poisoning cases left?” Raine asked, coming over to stand beside Elana, who was finishing up the charting on her soon-to-be-discharged patient. “Because if I don’t get a chance to eat something soon, I’m going to pass out myself.”

“I don’t think so,” Elana said, glancing up at the central board listing the status of all their patients. “According to Stacey, we were expecting to see twenty-three patients, and I’m sure we’ve moved at least that many through already.”

“I hope so,” Raine muttered with a low groan. “At least this influx of patients has made the shift go by fast.”

“No kidding. Why don’t you take a break? I’ll cover for you,” Elana offered. “Then, when you’re finished, I’ll go.”

“Thanks. Give me at least fifteen minutes.”

“Take twenty,” Elana said generously. “We deserve it.”

Even though the immediate urgency of the discount store gas leak had passed, there were still quite a few patients to see. Since the trauma bay was quiet, Elana continued to help out in the arena.

When she nearly tripped over Brock, she realized Stacey had reassigned Brock to the arena too. Probably to help with the influx of patients.

“Elana? Can you send a pregnancy test on the female patient in room two?” he asked.

“Sure. Is she one of the carbon monoxide exposure patients?”

He nodded. “She’s a bit worried she might be pregnant. ”

Understandable. She hurried over to do what he’d asked. Unfortunately there wasn’t time to ask him about Lacey because her second patient began complaining of tight chest pain.

“I think you’d better take a look at this guy, Mr Reeves, in room eighteen,” she told Brock. “He has new-onset chest pain; we just did an ECG and sent labs. I think he needs to be moved into the trauma bay.”

Brock didn’t hesitate. “Let’s take a look.”

The elderly gentleman had come in originally because of a fall, but now, with this new onset of chest pain, Elana guessed it was more likely his fall had been caused by his heart problems in the first place.

“Definitely signs of ST depression, according to his twelve-lead ECG,” Brock murmured. “Let’s get him into the trauma bay so we have more access to equipment. I’ll call Cardiology so we can get this guy into the cath lab asap.”

Elana nodded, quickly explaining to Mr Reeves their plan. When she asked about his support systems, she learned his wife had passed away a year ago from colon cancer and he had two kids, a son and a daughter. He didn’t want to bother his kids, though, claiming they had their own families to worry about.

“I really think we need to call them,” she urged. “You may be having a small heart attack. I’m sure your son and daughter would want to know.” And hopefully they were decent kids who would come in to support their father.

Mr Reeves grudgingly agreed, and Elana quickly called the son, Kirk, who willingly took responsibility for getting in touch with his sister, Lisa. Satisfied her elderly patient wouldn’t be alone for long, she hurried back to his side.

“Your son, Kirk, is on his way,” she told him. “And he’s going to call Lisa too.”

“Thanks,” he whispered. His face had gone pale, and there was a fine sheen of sweat on his brow.

“Are you having more pain?” she asked in concern.

“Maybe a little,” he grudgingly admitted.

Catching Brock’s eye, she waved him over. “Mr Reeves is having pain; can I give him more morphine?”

“Absolutely. Give him five milligrams and move up to ten as needed. Draw a troponin level if you haven’t already. The cardiologist is on his way down.”

“I already drew the troponin with the rest of the labs; we should have the results any minute.” She hurried over to the medication machine to withdraw the narcotics for her patient.

Mr Reeves visibly relaxed after he received the additional pain medication. His troponin level was elevated, so the cardiologist wasted no time in arranging for transport to the cardiac cath lab.

“Wait,” Mr Reeves protested. “I need to wait for my son.”

“You can’t wait, Mr Reeves,” Elana said gently. “There isn’t time; the quicker they can get your heart fixed, the less damage you’ll have. I promise I’ll talk to Kirk when he gets here. Your son will be in the waiting room when you’re all finished, okay?”

“Okay,” he reluctantly agreed.

“Nice job,” Brock murmured as the cardiology team wheeled Mr Reeves away. “You handled that very well.”

His offhand praise made her blush. “Er, thanks.” They’d been so busy since the start of their shift, the stilted awkwardness between them from the day before had vanished. She wasn’t sure it was a good thing. Could she really just pretend Felicity’s death meant nothing?

No. But at the same time, there were other, more important things to worry about. Like the situation with Lacey, Tucker and Brock’s brother.

Gathering her courage, she looked him in the eye. “Brock, do you have a few minutes after our shift to talk?”

He looked surprised, but readily agreed. “Of course. I can be available at any time you need.”

His eagerness made her feel guilty. Did he think they were going to rehash the past? Not likely. She hesitated, wondering if maybe she should give him a hint as to what she wanted to discuss.

“Elana, I’m glad you’re willing to talk to me,” Brock said in a low voice before she could think of a way to ease into the topic of his brother. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”

Really? Her cheeks felt hot all over again, and she cursed herself for succumbing to his charm. She wasn’t the least bit attracted to Brock Madison, and she didn’t need his approval to feel confident in her nursing skills.

“Elana? I’m back,” Raine said, walking up to them. “It’s your turn to take a break.”

She took the chance to escape gratefully. “Thanks, I’m starved. See you later,” she said to Brock before hurrying away.

Good grief, she needed to pull herself together, and quick. The purpose of her chat with Brock was solely to explain her concerns about Lacey and Tucker.

Once she’d let Brock know what was going on with Lacey and Tucker, she’d have no reason to speak to him on a personal level again.



Brock couldn’t control the wide grin on his face as he either helped dispatch patients home or admitted them to the hospital, depending on the extent of their illness.

Even though he doubted that Elana was totally going to let him off the hook the way she had in his dreams, he was thrilled she was finally going to give him a chance to explain.

Nine years ago he’d gone to Felicity’s funeral, but that attempt to talk to Elana and her mother had ended in disaster. Her mother had all but tossed him out of the church, creating such a scene that he’d escaped before the police were called.

Good thing, since his policeman father had nearly boxed his ears after the accident as it was.

Months later, he’d tried to talk to them again, only to find Elana’s mother’s house was for sale. He’d soon discovered Louisa had suffered a complete nervous breakdown and Elana had been placed in foster care.

Shaken by the events that seemed to keep getting worse instead of better, he’d made it his business from that point forward to keep tabs on Elana from afar. Guilt had been his constant companion during those months following the accident, despite the results of Felicity’s autopsy. Those seconds before she’d pulled out in front of him had replayed over and over in his mind.

When he’d entered medical school, he’d buried his guilt and poured his energies into his studies. He ’d graduated top of his class, but he couldn’t have cared less.

He’d been determined to save lives. It was the only way he could live with himself.

Brock took a ten-minute break, checking his phone for voice mail messages, surprised to find a message from Lacey. She’d sounded upset, crying again, as she’d begged him to call her back.

Glancing at his watch, he realized she’d called almost thirty minutes ago. Wincing at the delay, he quickly dialed her number, hoping she hadn’t gotten bad news regarding Tucker’s health.

“Lacey? It’s Brock. What’s wrong?”

“Oh, Brock, I don’t know what to do. Joel’s gone,” Lacey said between hiccupping sobs.

Brock frowned. “What do you mean, he’s gone? Gone to work? Is there something wrong with Tucker?”

“I took Tucker to the clinic, like you said. They did some tests, gave me medicine for him and told me to use different formula because he probably has colic. When I came home, I thought Joel was at work, but a couple of hours ago, they called here looking for him.”

A warning chill snaked down his back. Joel couldn’t have taken off, could he? Surely he wouldn’t risk losing his job, not when he had a baby to support. “Okay, don’t panic,” he said soothingly, hiding the depth of his concern. “I know Joel has been having a tough time lately. He probably just needed a little break. He’s likely having a drink or two with a couple of his buddies.”

“That’s what I thought too, at first,” Lacey said. “But I’ve called all his friends—no one has seen him all day. I even went to the bowling alley, his favorite hangout, but he hasn’t been there either. I’m scared, Brock. What am I going to do if he’s gone for good?”



Elana swiped out at the end of her shift and then glanced around, searching for Brock. He’d promised to meet her in the staff lounge after work, but it was possible he was still finishing up. The physicians couldn’t leave until they were assured all the patients were safe. The handover of care was easier for the nurses, though, since there were more nurses assigned per shift than doctors.

Nervous, she swiped her damp palms on the sides of her scrubs. A brief conversation with Brock shouldn’t cause an anxiety attack. Especially since this talk wasn’t remotely personal. This was about Lacey. The young mother and her son hadn’t been far from her thoughts all evening.

“Do you want to walk out to the parking lot together?” Raine asked.

“Nah, go ahead without me. I have a few things I have to do yet,” Elana hedged, avoiding direct eye contact with her closest friend.

“Like what?” Raine demanded, oblivious to Elana’s subtle hint. “You’ve swiped out, haven’t you? What else is there to do? It’s not like you can make phone calls or run errands at eleven-thirty at night.”

Elana suppressed a sigh. “There was a patient at the clinic today that has me worried. I need a few minutes to run the issue past Brock, that’s all.”

“Oh. I see.” Elana didn’t appreciate the knowing glint in Raine’s eye. “I’m sure Brock will be more than happy to help you out.”

“It’s not like that, Raine,” she snapped. “This isn’t a personal issue. I barely know the man.”

Raine arched one brow in disbelief. “Sure, Elana. Whatever you say. Heck, I think it’s great you’re talking to him. That means you’re giving him a chance. Hey, maybe you can get him to volunteer a few shifts a month at the clinic too.”

Oh, no. Absolutely not. No way was she asking Brock to volunteer at the clinic. Working with him in the emergency department was bad enough. The clinic was her refuge. She didn’t want him anywhere near the place.

After Raine had finally left, she let out a sigh of relief and plopped into a chair to wait for Brock. She’d give him another five minutes before she went searching for him. She was tired and didn’t have all night.

Yet she refused to leave without telling him her concerns about Lacey.

When he finally came in, he looked terrible. He wasn’t smiling, his face drawn into harsh lines. He looked about as exhausted as she felt.

For a minute she wavered. Maybe this wasn’t exactly the time to dump her concerns on him.

But just as quickly she stiffened her resolve. This wasn’t about Brock; he could take care of himself. Tucker was the vulnerable one. Not that Lacey was an awful mother, but she was definitely struggling.

“Hi, Elana. Sorry I’m late,” Brock said with a forced smile.

“No problem. It was a rough night for everyone, I think.” Making small talk with Brock felt weird. Truthfully, until the day they’d worked together in the trauma room, they hadn’t exchanged more than half a dozen words to each other, and none of them pleasant or friendly. At least on her part.

A hint of embarrassment crept under her skin when she remembered how she’d lashed out at him all those years ago at Felicity’s funeral. She pushed the memories of the past aside.

She cleared her throat, swiping her hands on her scrubs again. “I’m sorry to bother you, but there’s a problem I think you need to know about.”

His dark brows pulled together in a frown. “A problem?”

“Yes. I volunteer at the New Beginnings Clinic down in the low-income district. Earlier today, a very distraught young woman brought in her colicky baby to be evaluated by the doctor.”

Brock’s spine straightened, and the expression on his face became noncommittal. “Lacey and Tucker.”

She was surprised he’d guessed, but that only made it easier to speak her mind. “Yes. You need to know I’m really concerned about them. Especially Lacey.”

“Why? Because there was something wrong with Tucker? She’s not hurting him or anything is she?” Brock asked in a rush.

“No! No, it’s not that.” Although she could understand why he might jump to that conclusion. Working in the ED, they sometimes saw cases of child abuse. “Tucker has a bad case of colic, but she was making it worse by giving him different kinds of formula. I helped her switch him over to a soy-based product and gave her some anti-gas medication for him. But your brother, the baby’s father, didn’t come to the appointment with her.”

Brock’s shoulders slumped with apparent relief that abuse wasn’t the issue. “Yeah, I’m not surprised,” he muttered.

He was being far to blasée about the entire situation. She leaned forward, willing him to understand. “Listen to me. I noticed several small cuts on Lacey’s arm. She covered them up right away, but I didn’t imagine them. She’s not coping very well with motherhood. I think she might be cutting herself, purposefully inflicting pain.”

“What?” Brock stared at her in disbelief. “Are you telling me she’s suicidal?”

Elana didn’t want to have this conversation, she really didn’t. But hadn’t she learned the hard way how ignoring a problem only made it worse? “Young adults who are known to be cutters aren’t suicidal per se, but it is a sign of being unable to cope. They cut themselves because it’s one area of their life they can actually control. And cutting themselves seems to help relieve guilt, in a bizarre way.”

“You sound like you’re familiar with this affliction,” Brock said, his gaze intense.

She swallowed hard. She knew far more than she wanted to about kids who used harmful ways to cope. Been there and done that.

And it was all Brock’s fault.

For a moment darkness threatened. She pushed the sensation away. “I know a little about it.”

“I see.” He stared at her, a flash of real regret intermixed with guilt shadowing his eyes. Could it be that the accident had affected him more than she realized?

Disturbed by the possibility, she stared down at her hands. Had Brock really suffered too? Maybe, but so what? He’d been able to walk away. She hadn’t. Besides, she needed to focus on the issue at hand.

Lacey and Tucker.

“Brock, you need to make your brother understand how his son needs him. Joel and Lacey should take a parenting class; there are resources to help them.” She silently pleaded with him to take her advice seriously. “I honestly don’t think Lacey is stable enough, or capable enough to raise Tucker alone.”





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