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She didn’t have any cuts or nicks that she could see on her hands, but even the tiniest little micro-tear could be a site for disease to gain entry into her body.
Whether she wanted to or not, she had to have blood tests.
“Cecilia can take me,” she assured Lance. Beyond being alone with him, the last thing she wanted was to have to have him there when she had labs drawn.
McKenzie hated having blood drawn.
Blood didn’t bother her, so long as it was someone else’s blood. Really, it wasn’t her blood that was the problem. It was her irrational fear of needles that bothered her. The thought of a needle coming anywhere near her body did funny things to her mind. Like send her into a full-blown panic attack. How could she be so calm and collected when she was the one wielding the needle and so absolutely terrified when she was going to be the recipient?
She could do without Lance witnessing her belonephobia. He didn’t need to know she was afraid of needles. Uh-uh, no way.
McKenzie gave Cecilia a pleading look, begging for her friend to somehow rescue her, but the grinning hairdresser hugged her goodbye and indicated that she was going to say something to someone she knew, then headed out rather than stay for the remainder of the show. Unfortunately, several of the other attendees seemed to be making the same decision to leave.
“I’m going to the hospital anyway, so it wouldn’t make sense for someone else to bring you.”
“But I...” She realized she was being ridiculous. One of the local doctors going into hysterics over getting a routine phlebotomy check would likely cause a stir of gossip. Lance would end up hearing about her silliness anyway. “Okay, that’s fine, but don’t you have to finish your show?”
He glanced back toward the dinner theater. “Other than thanking everyone for coming to the show, I’ve done my part. While you were washing up, I asked one of the singers to take over. The show can go on without me.” A worried look settled on his handsome face. “The show must go on. It’s for such a great cause and I don’t want what happened to give people a bad view of the event. It’s one of our biggest fund-raisers.”
McKenzie frowned, hating that the incident had happened for many reasons. “It’s not the fault of Celebrate Graduation that the man choked. Surely people understand that.”
“You’d think so,” he agreed, as they exited the building and headed toward the parking lot. “That man was Coopersville’s mayor, you know.”
“The mayor?” No, she hadn’t known. Not that it would have mattered. She’d done what had needed to be done and would have done exactly the same regardless of who the person had been. A life had been on the line.
“Yep, Leo Jones.”
“Is he one of your patients?” she asked, despite knowing he shouldn’t answer. He knew exactly why she was asking. Did she need to worry about the man’s health history? Did Lance know anything that would set her mind at ease?
“You know I wouldn’t tell you even if he was.”
Yes, she knew.
“But I can honestly say I know nothing about any mayor’s health history.” He opened the passenger door to his low-slung sports car that any other time McKenzie would have whistled in appreciation of. Right now her brain was distracted by too many possibilities of the consequences of her actions and that soon a needle would be puncturing her skin.
Was it her imagination or had she just broken a sweat despite the mid-December temperatures?
“Thank you,” she whispered back, knowing her question had put him in an awkward position and that he’d answered as best he could. “I guess I won’t know anything for a few days.”
“Probably not.” He stood at the car door for a few seconds. A guilty look on his face, he raked his fingers through his hair. “I should have cut the airway, rather than let you do it.”
She frowned at him. “Why?”
“Because then you wouldn’t be worrying about any of this.”
She shrugged. “It was my choice to make.”
“I shouldn’t have let you.”
“You think you could have stopped me from saving his life?”
His grip tightening on the car door, he shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know what you meant and I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m not some froufrou girl who needs pampering. I knew the risks and I took them.” She stared straight into his eyes, making sure he didn’t misunderstand. “If there are consequences, I’ll face them. I did the right thing.”
“Agreed, except I should have been the one who took the risks.”
“Because you’re a guy?”
He seemed to consider her question a moment, then shook his head. “No, because you’re you and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
His answer rang with so much sincerity that, heart pounding, she found herself staring up at him. “You’d rather it happen to you?”
“Absolutely.”
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_32fedba1-0f2e-56e1-8e6f-64f9aafa81e4)
LANCE DROVE TO the hospital in silence. Just as well. McKenzie didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk.
Was she thinking about what he’d said? Or the events of the evening? Of the risks she’d taken?
When he’d realized Leo Jones had been choking, he’d rushed to the man and performed the Heimlich maneuver. Too bad he hadn’t been successful. Then McKenzie wouldn’t have any worries about blood exposure.
Why hadn’t he insisted on performing the procedure to open Leo’s airway? He should have. He’d offered, but precious time had been wasting that could have meant the difference between life and death, between permanent brain damage and no complications.
He’d let her do what she’d competently done with quick and efficient movements. She’d saved the man’s life. But Lance would much rather it was him being the one worrying about what he’d been exposed to.
Why? Was she right? Was it because she was female and he was male and that automatically made him feel protective?
Most likely he’d feel he should have been the one to take the risks regardless of whether McKenzie had been male or female. But the fact she was female did raise the guilt factor, with the past coming back to haunt him that he’d failed to protect another woman once upon a time when he should have.
Plus, he’d been the one to invite McKenzie to the show. If he hadn’t done so she wouldn’t have been at the community center, wouldn’t have been there to perform the cricothyroidotomy, wouldn’t have possibly been exposed to something life threatening.
Because of him, she’d taken risks she shouldn’t have had to take. Guilt gutted him.
If he could go back in time, he’d undo that particular invitation. If he could go back in time, he’d undo a lot of things.
Truthfully, he hadn’t expected McKenzie to accept his invitation to watch his show. She’d shot down all his previous ones with polite but absolute refusals.
He glanced at where she stared out the window from the passenger seat. Why had she semiaccepted tonight?
Perhaps the thought of seeing him onstage had been irresistible. He doubted it. She’d only agreed to go and watch and so had technically not been there as his date.
Regardless, he’d been ecstatic she’d said she’d be there. Why it mattered so much, he wasn’t sure. Just that knowing McKenzie had been attending the show had really upped the ante.
Not knowing if she’d let him or not, he reached out, took her hand, and gave a squeeze meant to reassure.
She didn’t pull away, just glanced toward him in question.
“It’s going to be okay.” He hoped he told the truth.
“I know. It’s not that.”
“Then what?”
She shook her head.
“Seriously, you can tell me. I’ll understand. I’ve had blood exposure before. I know it’s scary stuff until you’re given the all-clear.”
She didn’t look at him, just stared back out the window. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
She glanced toward him again. “With you?”
He made a pretense of looking around the car. “It would seem I’m your only option at the moment.”
“I’d rather not talk at all.
“Ouch.”
“Sorry.” She gave a nervous sigh. “I’m not trying to be rude. I just...”
“You just...?” he prompted at her pause.
“Don’t like needles.” Her words were so low, so torn from her that he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly.
Her answer struck him as a little odd considering she was a highly skilled physician who’d just expertly performed a procedure to open a choking man’s airway.
When he didn’t immediately respond, she jerked her hand free from his, almost as if she’d been unaware until that moment that he even held her hand.
“Don’t judge me.”
How upset she was seemed out of character with everything he knew about her. She was always calm, cool, collected. Even in the face of an emergency she didn’t lose her cool. Yet she wasn’t calm, cool or collected at the moment. “Who’s judging? I didn’t say a word.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“Maybe I’m not the one judging?”
She didn’t answer.
“If you took my moment of silence in the wrong way, I’m sorry. I was just processing that you didn’t like needles and that it seemed a little odd considering your profession.”
“I know.”
“Yet you’re ultrasensitive about it.”
“It’s not something I’m proud of.”
Ah, he was starting to catch on. McKenzie didn’t like to have a weakness, to be vulnerable in regard to anything. That he understood all too well and had erected some major protective barriers years ago to keep himself sane. Then again, he deserved every moment of guilt he experienced and then some.
“Lots of people have a fear of needles,” he assured her. They saw it almost daily at the clinic.
“I passed out the last time I had blood drawn.” Her voice was condemning of herself.
“Happens to lots of folks.”
“I had to take an antianxiety medication to calm a panic attack before I could even make myself sit in the phlebotomist’s chair and then I still passed out.”
“Not unheard of.”
“But not good for a doctor to be that way when she goes around ordering labs for her patients. What kind of example do I set?”
“People have different phobias, McKenzie. You can’t help what you’re afraid of. It’s not like we get to pick and choose.”
She seemed to consider what he’d said.
“What are your phobias, Lance?”
Her question caught him off guard. He wasn’t sure he had any true phobias. Sure, there were things that scared him, but none that put him into shutdown mode.
Other than memories of Shelby and his immense sense of failure where she was concerned.
Could grief and regret be classified as a phobia? Could guilt?
“Death,” he answered, although it wasn’t exactly the full truth.
She turned to face him. “Death?”
His issues came more from having been left behind when someone he’d loved had died.
When his high school sweetheart had died.
When it should have been him and not her who’d lost their life that horrific night.
When he didn’t answer, she turned in her seat. “You are, aren’t you? You’re afraid of dying.”
Better she think that than to know the horrible truth. He shrugged. “Aren’t most people, to some degree? Regardless, it isn’t anything that keeps me awake at night.”
Not every night as it had those first few months, at any rate. He’d had to come to terms with the fact that he couldn’t change what had happened, no matter how much he wanted to, no matter how many times people told him it wasn’t his fault. Now he lived his life to help others, as Shelby would have had she lived, and prevent others from making the same mistakes two teenagers had on graduation night.
“The thought of needles doesn’t keep me awake at night,” McKenzie said, drawing him back to the present. “Just freaks me out at the thought of a needle plunging beneath my skin.”
Again, her response seemed so incongruent with her day-to-day life. She was a great physician, performed lots of in-office procedures that required breaking through the skin.
“Is there something in your past that prompted your fear?” he asked, to keep his thoughts away from his own issues. Shelby haunted him enough already.
From the corner of his eye as he pulled into the hospital physician parking area he saw her shake her head.
