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Just as it had every day since the brown-out a couple of weeks before, the emergency room was hopping and had been all day. Sarah had run from one patient to the next with very little down time. Everything from having slipped due to ice to a gunshot wound had come through the doors.
Currently, she was examining a fifty-seven-year-old white male with chest pain and a history of triple bypass three years previously. The man admitted to smoking a pack a day for the past thirty years, drinking a pint a day, wasn’t bothering to take his prescribed blood pressure and cholesterol medications, and was a good hundred pounds overweight. He had been a heart attack waiting to happen.
“Has your chest pain eased up, Mr. Brown?” she asked the clammy-looking man as she scanned back over the notes the nurse had made upon his arrival. He should have come by ambulance, but he’d walked into the emergency room.
“It has some,” he said, squinting at her as if the light bothered his eyes. “But it’s been hurting off and on for two days. This evening it got a lot worse and I couldn’t catch my breath. This may just be another off spell.”
His cardiac enzymes were running stat in the lab and his telemetry was showing a slight T-wave abnormality. She’d started him on a nitroglycerin drip and had called to have the cardiac cath lab readied.
“Has the shortness of breath gotten better since you started on the IV meds and oxygen?”
Although he still looked sweaty and pale, he nodded. “I am breathing easier.”
If that labored mess was easier, she’d been right to call Cardiology. If the guy wasn’t having a myocardial infarction, he was on the verge of a major cardiac event. She was sure of it.
“Hey, Sarah, we have incoming. House fire. Multiple victims. Most minor. One serious.”
She cut her gaze toward the nurse who’d leaned into the emergency room bay. “Thanks, Shelley.”
Sarah fought wincing. Burns, smoke inhalation, and asphyxiation were all patients who gave Sarah nightmares. A few times during residency she’d gone home and wept at the absolute horribleness she’d witnessed. And she was seeing burn victims after the paramedics had done some clean-up.
She took a deep breath and turned back to her patient. “Mr. Brown, Dr. Andrews is on his way. He’s going to take you to the cardiac lab to check your heart further by doing an arteriogram. I don’t like how your EKG looks.”
The man grimaced. “I had one of those a few years ago, after my bypass. They found some more blockages.”
Not surprised, Sarah nodded, then turned as, on cue, Dr. Andrews stepped into the bay.
“Mr. Brown, this is Dr. Andrews.” She heard a commotion outside the bay and knew the incoming fire victims had arrived. She nodded at the cardiologist, then at her patient. “I’m leaving you in capable hands.”
With that she rushed to help, but came to an abrupt stop at what she saw when she stepped outside the bay.
The paramedics were rushing in a stretcher with an unconscious child wearing a facemask delivering oxygen. Keeping up with the stretcher, his dark brown hair matted to his head from sweat, dirt, and who knew what, was none other than her neighbor, talking to the little girl as if she were awake and hearing every word while he held onto her arm with his grimy hand.
He wore an NYFD uniform and looked like he’d just stepped out of a quick trip to hell.
CHAPTER TWO (#uebdf7d15-23be-52b7-83fb-28bb98cd898f)
SARAH’S CAREFREE, WOMANIZING, towel-wearing neighbor worked for the fire department?
So much for her male escort theory.
Mentally willing her paralysis away, she rushed to where the paramedics were rolling the unconscious girl and took a quick report.
“She was conscious when NYFD got to her, but went out just before they got her out of the building,” the paramedic, Paul, informed while they rolled the girl into a bay. “She got a twenty-cc bolus of normal saline via her intraosseous line, and then at one hundred and fifty cc per hour.”
He’d given the precise amount infused thus far, as knowing exact fluid replacement was crucial in a burn victim—especially a pediatric one.
“Also, morphine for pain at point four cc per kilogram.” Paul grimaced. “Although lower than normal, her oxygen saturation has remained steady, going at one hundred percent, and there aren’t any face burns, so maybe she won’t need intubation, but we both know how quickly that can change.”
Intubating a child if she didn’t really need to was never something Sarah wanted to do. However, waiting until an urgent need arose wasn’t either. Edema from the smoke and toxins inhaled could make getting the tube into the airway almost impossible. If the girl’s lungs were swelling, the quicker she got intubated, the easier the feat would be accomplished.
Looking at the child, Sarah knew she’d be intubating.
“Gag reflex still present?”
“As of two minutes ago, yes,” Paul answered.
“Get a warming blanket on her stat,” Sarah told a nurse, disinfecting her hands and gloving up as she did so. “Were you able to get all her clothing removed?”
“Had to wet down the area on her right side, but otherwise her clothes came off fairly easily. Most of the burns are superficial, except that one and her hands.”
Sarah nodded, and lifted the thin sheet to run her gaze over the girl’s body. First-and second-degree burns on her arms and neck. A third-degree on her right torso and hands.
Sarah’s heart squeezed.
Injured children were her least favorite aspect of her job. Every protective instinct inside her cried out at the injustice of a hurt child.
“Sorry, man, but you’re going to have to step back,” Paul told her neighbor as the paramedic bumped into him on the opposite side of the stretcher from Sarah.
Her neighbor didn’t budge. “I told you, I promised Keeley I wouldn’t leave her and I’m not going to.”
His tone said they’d have to call Security to have him forcibly removed. He’d let go of the girl’s arm when Sarah had inspected her burns, had been holding onto one of the few areas on the girl’s arms that hadn’t had burns, but he’d quickly taken hold again, as if he needed to be touching the child to let her know he was still there. Was the child someone he knew?
Sarah didn’t want to deal with a commotion that might slow down Keeley’s care. Plus, the thought of her neighbor being dragged out of her emergency department didn’t sit well.
“I may need to ask him something about her injuries.” Doubtful, but it sounded better than admitting she didn’t want him forced to leave. “Let him stay.”
Which was when Jude turned that blue gaze to her, really noticing her for the first time since entering the emergency room. Recognition immediately shone in his red-rimmed eyes.
Sarah’s heart slammed against her ribcage like a ball bouncing around in a pinball machine, lights and bells going off all through her insides.
The absolute difference in Jude’s appearance from the carefree, towel-wrapped sex god standing in his apartment doorway early that morning to this concerned, dirty, smelly firefighter determined to stay by a child’s side messed with her mind. Could she have been so wrong? Was it even possible there was more to her sexy neighbor than met the eye?
Had recognition not lit in those amazing blue eyes of his she’d have sworn he must be a twin.
Part of her felt she should say something, to acknowledge him in some way during that millisecond moment of recognition. Instead, she returned her attention to where it belonged, on the unconscious girl.
The weird flutter in her stomach was back and on high speed.
Indigestion, she told herself. It’s just indigestion.
* * *
Although she’d lived next to his apartment for several months, Jude hadn’t paid a lot of attention to his next-door neighbor.
She kept to herself and barely acknowledged him, even when he’d tried talking to her a couple of times when she’d first moved in.
Honestly, until that morning, when he’d really looked at her for the first time, he’d have guessed her to be a lot older than the thirty or so she was.
She dressed much older, acted much older, and had never even glanced his way, much less made eye contact before today.
Not that she necessarily was dressed older now, more just dressed to hide whatever was beneath.
She wore hospital-issue scrubs in a faded gray color that hung on her body much as sackcloth would, leaving her shapeless, plain, and, at first look, a bit drab.
Interesting, because, as he’d noticed that morning, she had really great eyes behind those hideous monstrosities posing as glasses. She should seriously consider investing in contact lenses.
She had good skin and amazing cheekbones, too. He’d dated models who’d gone under the knife for cheekbones that weren’t nearly as impressive.
Not that his neighbor did a thing to accent them. Mainly, it seemed her goal was to hide every God-given physical attribute she’d been blessed with. Why? Why would a young, healthy woman underplay herself?
Because she was a doctor and wanted to be taken seriously? Or had something happened in her past that had made her not want men to notice her physically?
Why did it even matter how she dressed and what had made her choose to do so?
All that flashed through his mind in the half-second his gaze connected with hers and recognition hit.
Some other emotion punched him in the gut, too, but he figured that was exhaustion, worry, and adrenaline battling around for dominance.
“Thank you,” he told her for giving him the okay to stay, not that he’d been going to leave.
Short of interfering with Keeley’s care, he’d have stuck by her side.
Just as he had after he’d made it out of the building and back to the ground, Jude had ignored the exhaustion in his own body, ignored his boss’s insistence that he get himself checked out and tended to, and had stayed with the child.
Just as he’d stayed with her in the ambulance.
Had Paul not been the paramedic in charge that might not have flown, but fortunately his friend had been.
If only he could have found Keeley a few minutes quicker.
Thank God they’d gotten out when they had because his instincts hadn’t been wrong.
Within seconds of their clearing the building, one of the outer walls and the remainder of the roof had caved in.
Had they not already been outside the inferno, they wouldn’t ever have been.
A sobering thought.
“Jude, man, step back,” Paul said, grabbing Jude’s arm. “Let the doctor check her patient.”
“Seriously, he can stay,” his neighbor repeated, then began examining Keeley while the paramedic gave her further run-down on what had happened and the girl’s objective findings and care while in the ambulance.
Without pausing in her examination, his neighbor gave the nurse more orders. Then, without turning to Jude, she asked him, “You are who saved her from a burning building?”
He tried not to let her incredulousness as she’d said “you”, as if she didn’t believe him capable of anything of the sort, get to him.
Watching as she parted Keeley’s eyelids and shone a light into her eyes, checking her pupil reflexes, he shrugged. “Just did my job.”
Although not as well as he should have because he should have found her sooner. If he had, her little body might not be marred from burns from who knew what she’d done prior to hiding underneath her mother’s bed. She wouldn’t be unconscious, wouldn’t have needed the trip to the emergency room by ambulance. If only they could have gotten her out when they’d gotten the other tenants of the building, when they’d gotten her mother and sister out.
“Ha, don’t let him fool you.” Paul spoke up, gesturing to Jude and not stopping, despite Jude’s shake of his head in hopes of silencing his friend.
“He should have been wearing a cape today, because everyone had already been ordered out of the building. He just didn’t listen. Never does.” Paul shook his head. “First one in, last one out.”
“An adrenaline junkie, eh?” his neighbor asked, still not looking his way. She checked Keeley’s gag reflex and continued with her assessment.
The weight of his uniform suddenly pulled at his shoulders as he went to shrug again, making the movement require a lot more effort than it should have. He was tired. So tired.
“Or someone who couldn’t live with himself if he left a kid in a burning building,” he heard himself admit.
Besides, there was no one waiting on him to come home to prevent him from taking risks. He purposely kept his relationships simple. Had never been tempted to do otherwise.
Not since Nina.
His neighbor’s gaze lifted to his and something shifted in her blue-green eyes, giving them the effect of shimmering sea water behind her glasses.
Oh, hell.
Maybe he’d inhaled too many fumes, too.
Or maybe it was because he’d just thought of Nina.
Whatever the cause, his head spun and he felt off kilter.
Way off kilter.
Like he might have to sit down.
He probably did need to rehydrate and replenish electrolytes. He’d sweated a bucket in that inferno and his uniform clung to him like a second skin, as did his sweat-smashed helmet hair.
That’s why he felt dizzy.
Not because of whatever the odd emotion in—he glanced at her name badge—Dr. Sarah Grayson’s eyes had been.
Rather than say anything further to him, she gave more orders to the nurse, ordering tests and treatments and things that were vaguely familiar but went far beyond Jude’s basic first-aid skills.
“I need to intubate stat,” she told the nurse. “She has internal swelling that’s going to get worse. We need to act now before her airway becomes too swollen to get the tube down.”
She said what size intubation tube she wanted and what anesthetic she’d like Keeley to be given to ease the discomfort of having the line introduced down her throat and into her lungs. If the girl regained consciousness, she wouldn’t want it to be due to discomfort while being intubated.
As if she’d predicted what was about to happen, Keeley’s oxygen saturation dropped several points and the monitor alarm sounded.
Everyone hurried, setting up trays, responding to whatever Sarah told them to do. A nurse asked Jude to step back and he did so, knowing he was in the way while holding Keeley’s arm.
Letting the girl’s wrist go left him feeling bereft. As long as he’d been feeling the warmth of her skin, he could tell himself she was going to be okay, that he hadn’t been too late.
* * *
