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“You always said you wanted to be a heart surgeon. You didn’t change your mind.”
“No. After hearing my first baby’s irregular heartbeat during my cardio rotation I’ve been set on it. It took me years to qualify, but it was the right move.” His gaze met hers. “But it meant making some tough decisions.”
“So, is there a Mrs. McIntyre and any little McIntyres?”
Hannah held her breath, waiting for his answer. A part of her wished he’d found no one special, while another part wanted him to be happy.
“There’s no Mrs. McIntyre or children.”
Hannah released the breath she’d held. Why’d she feel such a sense of relief? “Why’s that?”
“A surgeon’s life doesn’t lend itself to a peaceful private life. Somehow my patients always take precedence over anything or anyone else.”
A dark shadow crossed his face that she didn’t quite comprehend. Had he almost married? What had happened?
“As the mother of one of your patients I’m grateful you make them a priority. I believe that would be a part of being a great doctor.” She took a sip of tea. “So, are you still seeing a nurse on every floor and in every department?” The question had a sting to it that she couldn’t help but add.
He chuckled. “You don’t have a very high opinion of me, do you?”
Hannah chose to let that question remain unanswered. “Did you know that the joke in the nurses’ station was that, when you had rotated to our floor, you’d asked for an alphabetical listing of all the single nurses and were working your way through the list?” “I did not.”
“What? Know or ask for the list? Because you sure as heck worked your way through the staff. I watched you. With the last name of Watson, I had time to see you coming.” Heavens, she’d gotten what she’d deserved. She’d seen for herself what a player he had been.
“Yeah, and you refused to play along. That was one of the many things I liked about you. You made me work to get your attention.”
“I wasn’t interested in being another nurse you scratched off your list.”
Scott’s hand covered his heart. “Ouch, that hurt.”
She grinned. “That might have been too harsh.”
He smiled, oozing Dr. McDreamy charm. “Same Hannah. You never cut me any slack. But as it turns out, believe it or not, being a surgeon doesn’t leave me as much free time as being a med student did. As for an answer, I hope I’ve grown up some.”
“I know I have. I understand things I didn’t use to.” Like how it felt to be drawn to the bright fire that was his charisma and get burnt. He was speaking as if they’d shared nothing more than a casual meal all those years ago, instead of a friendship that had ended with a night filled with passion. She had repeated the same mistake with Jake’s dad.
“I’m sorry, Hannah, for everything.” His beeper went off, demanding his attention. “I have to see about this. Thanks for the coffee.” He picked up his cup, crushed it and pitched it into the nearest trash can.
Scott moved down the hall as if he was a man in command, a man on a mission. He’d been intense and focused as a medical student. That didn’t seem to have changed, but he also had the ability to laugh and smile effortlessly, which drew people to him.
Taking a deep breath, she slowly released it. She needed to think. Put things in some order in her mind.
Jake. Heart transplant. Waiting. Cost. Die. Scott. The words ping-ponged off the walls of her mind.
CHAPTER TWO
SCOTT peered over the unit desk toward Hannah, who sat at her son’s bed. Her head had fallen to one side against the back cushion of the chair. Even with the burden of worry showing on her features, she caught and held his attention. Her chestnut-colored hair brushed the tops of her shoulders and hung forward, curtaining one cheek. If he’d been standing closer, he would’ve pushed it back.
Puffy eyes and stricken looks were so much a part of his profession that he had become impervious to them, but telling Hannah about Jake’s heart condition had been the toughest thing he’d ever done. She was no longer the impressionable nursing student he’d once known. Hannah was now a mother warrior fighting for her child. He believed her strength and spirit would see her through.
She’d made it clear that their only association would be a professional one. He could be there for her as a friend, for old times’ sake. The only sensible choice was to keep their relationship a professional one. Being involved with a parent on a personal level was a huge ethical no-no anyway. Lawyers didn’t represent family members, and surgeons didn’t treat loved ones, or, in his case, family.
Hannah shifted in the chair and shoved her tresses out of her face. She looked tired, worn and dejected. She stirred, causing her hair to fall further across her face. With effort, Scott resisted the urge to go to her, take her in his arms and whisper that everything would be all right. She’d always brought out the protective side of him. She’d never believe it but he’d left her that morning all those years ago in order to protect her. Even then medicine had been his all-consuming focus. He’d gotten that trait from his father.
As a small-town doctor, his father had been on call day and night. Scott had watched him leave the supper table numerous times to see a sick child after eating only one forkful of food. More than once Scott had heard him return to the house in the early hours of the morning after seeing a patient. Their family had even returned early from a vacation because an elderly woman his father had been treating had taken a turn for the worse and was asking for him. Scott had never once heard his father complain. All Scott had ever wanted was to be like his father. He had thought he was the finest doctor he’d ever known.
Hannah woke with a start, blinking fast. Daylight had turned to darkness outside the window but the fluorescent lighting made it bright in the room. She straightened. “Mommy.”
She hopped up and went to Jake’s bedside.
“Hi, sweetheart. We both had a little nap.” She brushed his hair back from his forehead. “How you doing?” She kissed him.
The nurse pushed medicine into the port of the IV located at the side of Jake’s tiny wrist. Giving the IV set-up a critical look, Hannah realized old habits did die hard. She still wished she could take a more active role in Jake’s care. As long as he was in CICU she had to remain on the sideline.
“Would you like to hold him for a while?” the nurse asked as she punched buttons on the IV pump and it responded with small beeps.
Moisture filled her eyes. “Could I, please?”
“Sure. You have a seat in the chair and I’ll help you get him situated.”
After a little maneuvering of IV lines and moving of machines, Hannah had Jake in her arms. It was pure heaven.
“Go home,” Jake mumbled as he settled against her.
“I wish we could, but hopefully you won’t be here long.”
She looked over Jake’s head at the nurse as he played with his toy bear.
The nurse spoke softly, “You know, Mrs. Quinn, I’ve seen some very sick kids come through here who are doing great after having a transplant.”
The words reassured Hannah somewhat. At least she was getting to hold him. That more than satisfied her for the time being.
“If you don’t mind, while he’s sitting with you I’m going to step over to the next bed and help another nurse with her patient. Will you be okay?”
“Sure.” Hannah’s gaze shifted to Jake again. He looked like a small cherub. His lips were getting bluer, though. She had to admit Scott was right. Jake needed a heart. Soon.
She put her cheek against Jake’s. “I love you.”
“I luv ‘oo.”
Moisture filled her eyes. Loving … was … hard.
Her head jerked up at the sharp insistent beeps of the monitor that turned into an alarm. Staff rushed into Jake’s cubicle. Scott came with them. “Hannah, let me have Jake.” Scott took Jake from her and laid him on the bed, all the while issuing orders.
Hannah stepped to the bed. Her hands gripped the rail. “What’s wrong?” she whispered, fear coiling in her middle.
Scott looked at her as he listened to Jake’s chest. “Hannah, you need to leave.” His authoritarian tone told her he’d accept no argument. His attention immediately returned to Jake.
She was a nurse, Jake was her son. She could help.
But as much as she wanted to stay, Hannah knew he was right. She’d been involved in enough emergencies to know that the fewer people around the bed the better. If she wasn’t allowed to assist then she would be in the way. Slowly, she stepped back.
Scott’s gaze caught hers. “I’ll be out to talk to you when Jake is stable.”
Hannah walked toward the doors but took one final look over her shoulder as she left the unit. Jake’s bed was no longer visible because of the number of people surrounding it.
Finding one of the small conference rooms off the hallway empty and dark, she stepped inside, not bothering with the light. Her eyes ached from the dry air and the bright lights. She dropped onto one of the chairs situated as far from the door as possible.
Unable to control her anguish any longer, Hannah’s dam broke and her soft crying turned into sobs.
Now that Jake was resting comfortably, Scott needed to find Hannah. He paused in the hall.
What was that sound? There it was again. It was coming from the consultation room. He stepped closer to the entrance. Dark inside, no one should be in there. Was that someone crying?
He couldn’t ignore it. In a hospital it wasn’t unusual to hear crying, but this sounded like someone in physical pain.
With tentative steps, he entered the room. “Hello?” A muffled sob filled the space. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Please go away.” The words were little more than a whisper coming from the corner, followed by a sniff.
Even when it was full of sorrow, he recognized her voice. Hannah. The stricken look on her face when he’d ordered her to leave still troubled him. He’d been surprised she hadn’t put up more of a fight.
“Hannah?”
A whimper answered, then a muffled “Please leave” came from the corner. Moving into the room, he gave his eyes time to adjust to the dim light spilling in from the hallway. Scott had seen patients in pain, but her agony reached deep within him. Hearing Hannah sobbing knocked the breath out of him. It was killing him to stand behind professionally closed doors where she was concerned.
But if he did open that metaphorical door, would he be able to step through? Could he help her? Did he have the right to get involved so deeply in her life? What he did know with unshaking certainty was that he couldn’t walk away. He couldn’t make the same mistake twice. The consequences could be too great.
Coming toward her, Scott lowered his voice. “It’s Scott. Hannah, honey, Jake is fine. He had a reaction to the new med. He’s all right now.”
Her head rose enough that he could see her eyes over the ridge of her arm. The rest of her face remained covered.
“Go. Away.” The words were sharp and wrapped in pure misery. She turned her back to him and lowered her head again. “I don’t need you.”
Those words stung. Scott touched her and she flinched. He removed his hand. It wounded him that she wouldn’t accept his help. Was she really that untrusting of him? “He’s resting now, really.”
Scott sank into the chair beside hers. He’d dealt with parents besieged by strong feelings. It was part of his job, but Hannah’s pain reached deep to a spot he kept closed off. A place he shouldn’t go with the parent of a patient, especially not with her. Somewhere he wasn’t comfortable or confident in going.
Then again, his failure to recognize how distressed his mother had been when his parents had divorced had had disastrous results. He’d promised himself then to never let that happen again to someone he cared about. He wasn’t leaving Hannah, no matter what she said or how she acted. Her obvious pain went too deep to dismiss.
Hannah made a slight shift in her seat toward him, then said in a hard voice, “I don’t—want you here. Go away and leave me alone.”
She was in so much pain she was contradicting herself. He could resist a lot, but Hannah’s pain brought down the final wall. He had to do something, at least try.
A feeling of inadequacy washed over him. What could he say to make it better? Could he help her? Scott placed a hand on her shoulder, feeling the inflexible muscles. As if she were a troubled child, he began moving his hand in comforting circles along her back.
“Scott, stop.” She twisted her shoulders back and forth, but he refused to let her have her way. He may not have the correct words or be able to change the situation but he could hold her, be there to comfort her.
“Hannah, I’m not leaving.”
She stilled.
“Look, you’re a fighter. And if Jake is anything like you, he is too.”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. She stiffened and pushed against his chest. “Let me help you get through this.” His grip tightened and he tucked her head under his chin. Holding her as close as the chairs would allow, he said in a tender voice, “Let me be your friend. You need someone.”
She remained rigid, but he refused to ease his hold. Taking several halting breaths, she gave up the battle and relaxed against him.
Hannah’s distress was difficult to witness. He didn’t flinch when he opened a child’s chest or when making life-and-death decisions but he couldn’t stand seeing Hannah in so much pain. He wanted to make it go away, make it his own.
“Why won’t you leave me alone?” she murmured against his chest.
“You need to be held, and I’m going to do that. Cry all you want. I’ll be right here when you’re ready to talk.”
Having her in his arms went beyond wonderful, even with her crying and heartbroken. It felt right. He’d not only stepped over the invisible don’t-get-personally-involved line, he’d jumped. But he’d see to it remained one friend comforting another. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, let it become personal.
Holding her firmly against him, he made calm reassuring noises that made little sense. With his voice low, he spoke to her as if she were a hurt animal. After a few minutes she quieted. Pure satisfaction coursed through him like brandy on a cold night.
He placed a fleeting kiss to her forehead, which smelt like fresh apples. She still used the same shampoo. With his cheek resting against her hair, he took a deep breath, letting her scent fill him.
Neither spoke. Her breathing gradually became even and regular. The sensation of her body pressed against his made his thoughts travel back to what could have been. Was he taking advantage of her vulnerability? Yeah, but he still couldn’t resist resting his lips against her skin again.
Scott comprehended for the first time in his life what it meant to want to carry someone else’s burden. He longed to take Hannah’s hurt away. Fix her problems. Yet he could never be her knight. His duty to others would always be pulling him off the horse.
With a sigh of resignation, she completely relaxed against his chest. She had to be drained in both body and mind.
Having Hannah in his arms brought back memories of that night. Even then he couldn’t help but touch her, hold her. Now she needed to be held, desperately, and he was afraid that he needed the contact just as much. Everything about Hannah pushed his common sense away.
Heavens. She was being held by Scott. “Better?” he asked.
In a quick movement Hannah straightened and shifted back into her chair. She should’ve never let him touch her. Mercy, it had felt wonderful. She was so tired of being alone, carrying the load for Jake’s care. At least with Scott she had a partner until the transplant was done.
Under Scott’s scrutiny, she refused to meet his gaze. “I’ve never fallen apart like that before,” she muttered.
“Are you positive you’re okay?” He sounded as unsure as she felt.
“I’m better now,” she said, though her words lacked confidence. “You can go.”
“Have you eaten today?”
Why wouldn’t he leave her alone? She closed her eyes, then lifted them, looking through her lashes. “If I answer you, will you leave?” She didn’t want to have a reason to start caring for him again.
Scott said nothing but gave her a hard look.
“Okay, I had a bowl of cereal this morning. I was going to eat during shift change …” she sighed “ … but I just wasn’t hungry. Satisfied?” Where was the ever ever-present sound of his pager going off when she needed it?
He shook his head. “You’re one of the most intelligent women I know so I expected better from you. What did I tell you about taking care of yourself?”
“I heard you.”
