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“Lippscomb, Oklahoma. Closest hospital. By the way, I’m Lauren Wilson.” She nodded to the driver. “This is Rick Moore. That’s Art Thompson beside you.”
“And I’m Dr. Paxton Samuels. Feel free to call me Paxton.”
“You’re our new temporary doctor. Tough way to start your month,” she said, giving him a reassuring smile.
“I won’t argue with that.” But everything about the last few weeks had been tough as well.
She continued to blow and after a few minutes she looked at him. “I forgot to mention that I’m your nurse. So this probably won’t be our last adventure together.”
He wasn’t sure if that sounded ominous or inviting, but it was definitely intriguing.
CHAPTER TWO (#u6bb431bb-c2e8-5e13-bc47-cebdb8e21573)
LAUREN BLINKED AT the bright light coming from the hospital emergency department entrance. The ride hadn’t been the worst one of her life but it had been uncomfortable. She’d spent most of it with her body twisted toward the back and her arms between the seats, holding Paxton’s hands while she blew on them.
They were strong, capable hands. She had already learned that. His fingers were long and tapered down to well-manicured nails. They weren’t as soft as she’d expected. Something about them made her think of security. That he could take care of himself and anyone else he cared about.
As they’d driven she’d seen him studying her, his face faintly lit by the dashboard lights. Tingles of self-awareness had flickered through her, as though she were a specimen under a microscope. She feared he was analyzing her both in appearance and intelligence, and passing judgment. Did she fall short or measure up?
They were to the outskirts of Lippscomb before he said, “You can stop. I have feeling now.”
“That’s good but you’re not out of the woods yet. You’ll still require medical attention to make sure there hasn’t been further damage.” She struggled to conceal her relief. Her back hurt and she had become ever more aware of him as a man the longer she’d held his hands.
More disturbing were her sharp memories of his body pressed against hers in the cab and when they had been entangled on the ground. Despite the bitter weather and her thick clothing, she’d been conscious of his warmth and his body against hers. Was it because she’d not let a man so close in such a long time? What was this odd reaction she was having to a stranger? Whatever it was she had to put a stop to it. Nothing about it was healthy.
Rick had done a good job of driving but the going had been slow. The snow had slackened but the bitter wind had picked up. When Rick stopped at the emergency department door Lauren hurried inside to let the staff know they had arrived. Earlier Rick had radioed ahead, telling the hospital they were on their way.
She headed straight for the unit desk, which was draped with garlands and red and gold Christmas balls. The clerk, wearing reindeer antlers, looked up.
“Hey, I’m Lauren Wilson from Last Stop. I’ve got two patients in the car. One needs a wheelchair.”
Lauren didn’t wait for her response before returning to her patients.
Paxton, as she suspected, had climbed out of the car in order to assist their patient.
She rushed to him. “I’ll take care of Mr. Thompson. You should be concerned about your hands.”
“He’s my responsibility,” Paxton growled through pain she was sure he was trying to hide.
“And you’re mine,” she snapped.
Glancing behind her, Lauren was pleased to see the unit staff hurrying toward them with a wheelchair.
She pointed to Mr. Thompson. “He needs the chair.”
Mr. Thompson settled into his chair and Paxton walked into the hospital beside him. She and Rick followed close behind them. When Paxton reached the unit desk he said, “I’m Dr. Paxton Samuels. I need to speak to the attending.”
Lauren hurried forward. “I’ll take care of giving report. You’re a patient as of now and you need to worry about having those hands properly tended.”
“They’re fine.”
“Doctors never make good patients,” she muttered.
“I heard that,” Paxton said with a glare. “I’m sure my fingers have recovered.”
“I think we need to get a second opinion. Last Stop needs a doctor with good hands.”
He gave her a stricken look then nodded. “Okay, but I want to be informed about my patients.”
“Not a problem.”
“Hey, Lauren,” Henry, a doctor and friend who was wearing a Santa hat on his head, said as he came up the hall toward them.
“Hi, Henry.” She gave him a smile.
“What do you have for us tonight?” Henry looked at Paxton with curiosity.
“You’ve already gotten one of our accident victims, Lewis Williams. Head trauma and hypothermia. We have another head trauma, Art Thompson—” she pointed toward a cubicle where he’d been taken “—in there who needs to be seen.”
“I’m Doc—” Paxton tried to butt in.
Lauren didn’t slow down. She gestured to Paxton. “This is Dr. Samuels. He’s a possible frostbite case.”
Henry told a nurse who had just joined them, “Take him to trauma three and get him started on the frostbite protocol. I’ll see the head trauma you brought in first. Lauren, come with me and tell me what’s going on.”
Throughout the brief exchange Paxton looked from her to Henry and back again. He appeared puzzled by their discussion. A couple more times he made noises as if he was going to interrupt but before he could utter anything the unit tech pushed him away.
Lauren stowed her outer clothing behind the nurses’ station and joined Henry in Mr. Thompson’s room. He was sitting up and talking to the nurse. Lauren shared what she knew about his case. A few minutes later they were on their way to Paxton’s room.
“So, who is this Dr. Samuels?” Henry asked.
“Our new temp doctor until we can find someone to permanently replace Dr. Barden. Dr. Samuels was on his way to Last Stop and came up on the accident. He wasn’t well dressed for the occasion. I can’t complain about his care and quick action, though.”
She and Henry stepped into Paxton’s cubicle. He was sitting in a chair with his hands in water.
“How’s Lewis doing?” he asked before either of them could say anything.
“He’s in a room,” Henry stated. “He still hasn’t regained consciousness. We scanned for swelling but saw nothing. It’s just a waiting game now.”
“And Mr. Thompson?”
“He seems to be recovering. He has a handful of stitches and we’re going to keep him overnight for observation.” Henry stepped closer to Paxton. “Now it’s your turn. I’m Dr. Henry Fields and I understand you’re a doctor as well.”
“Dr. Paxton Samuels.”
“I hear you’re going to fill in at Last Stop.”
“Yeah, if I ever get there,” he said in a grouchy tone.
Henry gave a dry chuckle. “I’ve heard of the difficulty. So, tell me, how’re your fingers? Our winters are pretty brutal here.”
“Better.”
“Good to hear.”
Paxton lifted his hands out of the water and flexed his fingers. He looked directly at her. Lauren’s middle fluttered. He had deep green eyes. Green like the plain in the spring. Their new doctor was handsome.
“I had good care on the way here.”
Henry glanced at her. “I have no doubt you did. I should admit you, but Mr. Thompson took the last bed. The best I can offer you is a spot in the waiting room. You really should have someone checking on you every couple of hours.”
Rick stuck his head into the cubicle. “Lauren, I’ve been called out. I’ve got to go. I’ll pick you up in the morning or get someone to come get you.” He raised a hand and was gone.
He didn’t even give her a chance to respond. She and Dr. Samuels were stuck in Lippscomb.
Paxton’s unnerving eyes met hers. “Isn’t that our ride back to Last Stop?”
She nodded. “Yep. I guess we’re staying the night in the waiting room.”
“What about that hotel across the street? I saw it as we pulled in. Surely they have rooms.” Paxton was in no mood to sit up all night in a brightly lit public area.
Lauren shrugged. “I guess that’ll work. The weather is too bad to ask anyone to come get us.”
“He’s—” Henry indicated Paxton “—going to need you to check on him a couple of times during the night. I’m concerned he might spike a fever.” Henry looked at her then at Paxton. “And you, I want you to promise you’ll keep your hands covered for the rest of the winter season. You’ll have trouble again if you’re not careful.”
“Thanks. I’m well acquainted with frostbite, as I’m from Boston. We have the cold and snow as well.”
“Then you know it’s nothing to mess around with.” Henry wasn’t letting his patient intimidate him.
Lauren shook her head in disbelief. Could this evening get any more interesting? “Then we’re going out in the weather again.” She winced. “More fun in the snow.”
“It looks like it.”
Lauren imagined Paxton’s arrival in Oklahoma was far above and beyond his Bostonian expectations.
“How soon can I get out of here?” Paxton asked Henry.
“As soon as you’re ready.” Henry made a note on the chart he held. “After you have your hands wrapped. They need to be that way for at least twenty-four hours. I don’t want you using them until tomorrow. I’m going to prescribe you a little something for pain. Call me with any problems.”
Paxton didn’t look pleased with that directive but he didn’t argue. “Understood.”
Henry nodded to her and Paxton, then left. A few minutes later a nurse wrapped Paxton’s fingers individually in gauze.
As soon as she left Paxton said, “I’m ready to go.” He stood and started pulling on his coat.
Lauren assisted him with getting his arms into it, then adjusted the weight around his shoulders and buttoned it. The rigid posture of Paxton’s body let her know he wasn’t used to people doing things for him and he didn’t like feeling incapable. She pulled his collar up around his neck.
A funny feeling came over her and she looked up to see him intently watching her. Her gaze met his. A pang of awareness ran through her.
His hair was still damp and mussed, a large lock of it having fallen over his forehead, giving him an endearing disheveled appeal. He was a good-looking man, not in a glossy magazine manner but in the subtle way of someone who had confidence in who they were and what they wanted.
“Can we go now?” he asked with arched eyebrows.
Had she been staring at him? She backed away. “I need to get my coat and bag on the way out. I left them at the nurses’ station.” They walked to the unit desk. There she went around to a cubby and gathered her things. “Jane,” she said to the unit clerk, “do you know where we can get some scrubs?”
The heavy woman in her mid-twenties said, “Yeah, but I’m really not supposed to hand those out.”
“I’ll bring them back, I promise. If I don’t, you can charge me for them.”
Jane pursed her lips and gave her a sideways look. “In this case...” She went into the storage room. She soon returned with green scrubs sealed in clear plastic. “Sorry, I only have one set left, in extra-large.”
“Okay. We’ll make them work.” Lauren took the package, then turned to Paxton. “You ready for this?”
“I’ve been ready,” he grumbled.
Apparently he’d had all he wanted for a day. She looked at him. His eyes were bloodshot, underlined by the bruise-like evidence of exhaustion, and his mouth was a tight line. She glanced at his hands all wrapped in white. He deserved to be testy.
Pulling on her coat, she zipped it closed and put her bag over her shoulder. The large automatic glass doors opened as they approached. A blast of cold rolled in. Lauren shivered and murmured, “All we have to do now is manage to not slip on the ice.”
Paxton grunted and hunched against the wind, putting his hands into his coat pockets.
She picked her way down the curved drive to the street while keeping an eye on him. All he needed was to fall. Thankfully the street lights gave off enough light to make visibility good and the snow had slowed to drifting flakes. The motel was straight across the four-lane street from the hospital. They waited for a car to pass then as quickly as possible walked toward the window with the glowing orange neon sign that read “Office.”
“How often do you get snowbound with a patient?” Paxton asked.
“I’d have to say this is a first.”
“I’m not surprised. That’s my life lately. A lot of firsts.”
Lauren wasn’t sure what that statement meant but it didn’t sound good by the tone of his voice. Keeping a steady pace, they kept moving. The situation was movie-worthy. They would laugh about this one day.
Lippscomb Motel was a nineteen-fifties-style place, where the one-story building formed a horseshoe and the parking was in front of each room. All the slots appeared taken. What were they going to do if there were no rooms? Return to the hospital. She should have thought to call. They had no choice now but to ask.
Making it to the entrance first, she opened the glass door, letting him go in ahead of her. The warmth of the lobby greeted them.
A bald-headed man wearing a T-shirt despite the weather stood behind a counter with a tiny, sad-looking Christmas tree on it. A TV blared in the background.
“Can I help you?”
“We need a couple of rooms for the night,” Paxton stated.
“Don’t have but one,” the man said off-handedly.
Lauren had been afraid of that.
The man continued, “The storm has us all full up tonight.”
“We’ll take it,” Paxton said before she had a chance to say differently.
