скачать книгу бесплатно
Mosby peered into his eyes. “Pupils are equal and reactive, so you can rest easy on that account.”
“I’m OK. Just give me…a minute.”
“Take all the time you need,” Mosby advised, placing a hand on his shoulder. “An ambulance is on its way.”
“Not necessary,” he croaked, hating to appear weak, especially on his first official day in town. “I’m supposed to work in ER, not check in as a patient.”
“It’s very necessary,” Mosby assured him. “We take care of our own, and as of eight o’clock this morning, you’re one of us.”
Adrian folded one arm over his eyes, too befuddled to argue and quite content to lie on the grass until his wits returned. He heard voices and tried to focus on them through the pounding in his head, but none seemed to make any sense until he heard one so familiar it haunted him in his dreams.
“How is he? Is he OK? He’s breathing, isn’t he?”
Sabrina.
He’d known he’d see her again—the hospital wasn’t large enough to avoid it—but he wondered if her breathless concern would fade as soon as she realized that he was the one lying on the ground with a goose egg on the side of his head.
He lowered his arm and opened his eyes to see her face above his. Through his slightly blurry vision, he recognized her retroussе nose, high cheekbones, kissable mouth and eyes as black as midnight. “Yeah, I’m breathing and talking,” he answered for himself. “In a few minutes I’ll be walking, too.”
“That was one helluva slice,” Mosby commented. “I wonder who hit it?”
Even with his head feeling as if his brains had been run through a blender, Adrian was alert enough to watch color wash over Sabrina’s face. “I did,” she admitted.
Of all the people in this tournament, Sabrina had knocked him senseless? He wanted to laugh at the irony but his skull hurt too much. The best he could do was smile, and that turned out to be more grimace than grin.
As he covered his eyes with his arm once again to wait for the paramedics, one thought ran through his mind as clearly as a church bell on a calm summer day.
Paybacks were hell.
After seeing Adrian awake and alert, Sabrina felt marginally better, until she saw his ashen face and the blood trickling past his ear and down his corded neck to stain his shirt collar. In spite of everything that had gone wrong between them, in spite of past hurts, she’d never dreamed of physically harming him. Not that he didn’t deserve it, of course…
“I’m so sorry,” she murmured. “It was an accident. Honest.”
“Of course it was,” Mosby declared. “No one deliberately slices the ball.”
“That’s right,” she concurred, hoping Adrian wouldn’t accuse her of evil intent, at least not in front of this crowd of witnesses. “If it’s any consolation, I’ve never hit anyone before.”
“Or you haven’t been told,” Adrian remarked dryly. “That would have been quite a drive if it had gone straight.”
“Probably,” she agreed.
An ambulance siren wailed in the distance and he visibly winced, then sighed. “For me, I suppose.”
“Afraid so,” Mosby said.
“What if I don’t want it?”
Sabrina ignored his petulant tone. He’d hated receiving attention and today’s incident would forever mark him in the hospital staff’s collective minds. As a man who preferred to remain out of the limelight, he’d never forgive her for the notoriety.
Then again, he had worse things to hold against her than being the subject of well-meant gossip. Never telling him about their son topped this incident by a country mile. Oh, he’d no doubt be furious, but she’d endured too much during and after her pregnancy with no one but herself to rely upon to be afraid of his reaction. She’d had her reasons and as far as she was concerned they had been the right ones, but her bravado didn’t stop her from checking his hand for a wedding ring.
No ring. Not even a pale tan line marked his third finger.
How curious, especially after what she’d seen…
“Sorry, young man, but when you go back to Mercy, you’ll go none the worse for wear,” Mosby replied. “If everything checks out, you can report for work in the morning.”
Either Adrian recognized the finality in Dr Mosby’s voice or he’d realized that an ambulance ride wasn’t such a bad idea because he didn’t argue.
“Sabrina?” Mosby turned his attention to her. “Follow Adrian to the hospital and make sure he’s given VIP treatment. Nothing’s too good for our newest physician.”
Oh, sweet baby Jane. “Me?” she protested, before she realized that refusing would only foster unwanted speculation.
Mosby studied her. “Why not you?”
Why not her, indeed? She could give him a specific reason—Adrian had told her that he didn’t want her in his life—but mentioning their volatile past wasn’t appropriate under the circumstances. Fortunately, the perfect excuse popped into her head.
“I’m not sure he’d appreciate me doing the honors when I’m the one responsible for his condition.” She glanced helplessly at Adrian, hoping, expecting him to refuse her company.
“Nonsense,” Mosby declared. “Dr McReynolds is a professional as well as a golfer. Accidents happen. He won’t hold this against you.”
She wasn’t as certain, but she bit back a reply because anything she could have said would have raised questions she didn’t want to answer.
“I suspect you won’t play worth a hoot after this anyway, so your team will probably thank me.” The chief of staff added with a twinkle in his eye, “It may also be safer for the masses if you aren’t swinging a club.”
Great. She’d never live this incident down, either. For a woman who’d won regional tournaments in both high school and college, she’d rather be known for a brilliant achievement instead of a hapless slice that had knocked out a fellow golfer and sent him to hospital.
Mosby laid a hand on Adrian’s shoulder. “Never fear. We won’t abandon you. Will we, Sabrina?” he asked with a pointed glance in her direction.
She glanced at Adrian, wondering why he consented to Mosby’s plans. While he truly wasn’t in a position to refuse any more than she could, she wondered if he was simply too confused to realize what was happening. Accident or not, she felt guilty for causing his injury.
“I’ll get my things,” she said reluctantly, hoping she wouldn’t be forced to contact his sisters with bad news. Conditions such as skull fractures, subdural hematomas and nerve damage were serious possibilities. Although it was a shame he hadn’t shown initial signs of amnesia. It would solve a lot of her problems, she thought wryly.
“Good. I’ll check in with you as soon as we’ve finished our round. We’ll have test results by then.”
“Paramedics are here,” someone said, and the small crowd parted.
Sabrina stood off to one side, watching the emergency personnel apply a cervical collar and prepare Adrian for transport. The grim set to his mouth and his one-word replies suggested his head hurt worse than he cared to admit. Surprisingly enough, his vulnerability tugged at her heartstrings.
You’d feel the same for any injured person, she told herself, refusing to believe she held any tender feelings for him at all. After the way he’d treated her, thrown her love away like yesterday’s garbage, how pitiful would she be if she did? In another lifetime, she would have been more than happy to escort him to the hospital and act as his hospital liaison, but too much had happened since those blissful days. Far better for her peace of mind if she treated him warily or, at best, as a familiar stranger until she discovered why he’d taken this temporary position at Pinehaven Health Center.
An uneasy thought came to her. Did he know about Jeremy?
No, she decided. She hadn’t mentioned her pregnancy to anyone before she’d left Denver. Since then she hadn’t run into any of her old friends and her new ones had never heard Adrian McReynolds’ name until today. For the moment, her secret was safe, although she’d have to deal with it sooner than she’d anticipated.
She caught a ride back to the parking lot in a tournament official’s golf cart, loaded her clubs, then followed the ambulance to the hospital.
By the time the paramedics had unloaded Adrian and installed him in a trauma room, he sported an IV in his hand, a pulse oximeter on his finger, and a long-suffering expression on his handsome face.
The old Sabrina would have teased out a smile because she hated to see him ill at ease, but the new Sabrina refused to let herself feel anything but objective concern. As far as she and the rest of the world were concerned, he was just another patient, even if he could legally use the initials “MD” behind his name.
“Would you like me to call anyone for you?” she asked politely after the ER doctor had examined him and they were waiting for the lab and radiology staff to arrive. “Your wife? Girlfriend? Or a family member?”
“No.” His blue-gray gaze met hers. “Don’t call a single soul.”
“I’m sure someone would want to know what’s happened.”
“There isn’t anything to tell to anyone,” he said shortly. “This is a minor injury and not worth the trouble it would cause.”
So much for finding out if he’d ever replaced her…“Suit yourself, but if you should change your mind, let me know.”
“I won’t.”
“As stubborn as ever, I see,” she remarked, already breaking her first rule to treat him as a stranger she’d met a few minutes earlier.
“I just want to play the hospital’s game so I can go back to my apartment where I can recuperate on my own.”
Knowing Mosby as she did, Adrian wouldn’t be heading back to his apartment as quickly as he thought, but someone else could break the news. On the other hand, Adrian hated not being in control, so if she planted the idea, maybe he’d resign himself to his fate before he got official word from The Man himself. Why she wanted to prepare him for the eventuality, she didn’t know, other than dealing with his surliness ranked at the bottom of her list of things she wanted to do.
There was a silver lining, though. She hadn’t wanted to be Adrian’s guardian angel in the first place, so if he gave her the slightest bit of trouble, she’d shovel it right back, in spades.
In fact, now that she thought about the situation, he wouldn’t have to complain too much for her to do so.
“Dr Mosby may decide to keep you overnight,” she mentioned offhandedly, testing his reaction.
He frowned. “Why? You don’t admit every person in the hospital for a bump on the head.”
“No, but you aren’t just any person.” She ticked off the reasons on the fingers of her left hand. “One, you’re a doctor, which means you get special consideration. Two, Mosby is determined to treat you like spun gold, not only because he wants to impress you but because he wants you to speak fondly of us when you go back home.”
“Ah. For recruitment purposes, I presume.”
“Probably,” she agreed. “This position has been vacant for some time so I’m sure he intends to take advantage of whatever opportunities he can to show us in a good light. The question for the moment though is, who would monitor you through the night if Dr Mosby discharges you? Unless, of course, you aren’t staying alone.” She raised an eyebrow.
“Fishing, Sabrina?”
“Not at all,” she said, airily indifferent, although deep down she wanted to know if he had allowed a significant other into his life. Not that she cared one way or another, of course. She was only being curious.
“Your living arrangements don’t concern me. However, they could factor into Mosby’s decision, so I thought you might appreciate the advance warning. If not, pretend I didn’t say a word.”
He fell silent as if mulling over his situation. “I don’t suppose the crickets count as companions?”
“Not unless they can take your vital signs and call 911 if necessary.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.” He sighed. “Then, yes, I’m all by myself.”
“I’m surprised.” She hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud until he answered.
“Why would you think that?”
She evaded the question. “I assumed you would have brought Clay with you.” After Clay’s discharge from hospital, Adrian had moved him into his own home to oversee and assist in his rehabilitation.
“He’s living by himself these days.”
Relief at the news made her forget to treat Adrian with cool disdain. “Oh, Adrian, I’m so glad. Then he’s all right? I’ve wondered and worried about him…” Realizing she’d said too much, she cut herself off. When Adrian had severed their ties, he’d also severed her relationship to his family members and she missed them almost as much as she’d missed Adrian. Oh, she could have kept in touch with Clay, but it would have been an awkward situation for both of them, so she hadn’t.
“He hasn’t completely recovered,” he admitted. “It took awhile before he could start therapy and then his progress came slowly, but he’s graduated from a walker to a cane, which was quite a cause for celebration.”
“I can imagine.” And she could. She pictured Adrian, Clay, Marcy and Susan barbecuing in Adrian’s back yard. Adrian liked to wear his “Kiss the Cook” apron and chef’s hat and monitor the status of his burgers with the same intensity as an anesthesiologist monitoring a surgical patient. Clay had often stolen the green olives out from under Marcy’s watchful eye while Susan had scolded him for spoiling his dinner. Adrian’s portable CD player had usually provided the ambience while Sabrina had acted as the official and unbiased taste tester of Marcy’s culinary concoctions.
She wondered who did the honors now, then jerked herself off that fruitless and painful path. The McReynolds family wasn’t part of her life and never would be. For her own peace of mind, she had to remember that.
“In any case…” She steered the conversation back to the original topic. “If you’re living alone, I’d plan to spend the night in a luxurious private suite on our spacious second floor.”
“If it’s a matter of having a babysitter, you could do the honors,” he said in a clearly hopeful tone.
Coming from anyone else, she would have laughed and countered with a saucy answer, but the offer came from Adrian, which made his suggestion no laughing matter. If he didn’t look so pathetic, she’d tell him exactly what she thought of his idea, using words capable of blistering the walls’ semi-gloss enamel paint.
But he did look rather forlorn and pitiful and she let her opportunity slide. There would be plenty of others when she could fully vent her anger and not feel lower than pond scum for verbally attacking a concussed man. A confrontation was inevitable.
“Sorry, but I don’t do private nursing. And even if I did, I have laundry waiting at home.”
“You wouldn’t have to stay,” he coaxed. “Just long enough so Mosby thinks I’m not alone.”
She eyed him carefully and forced herself not to succumb to his pleading, puppy-dog-in-the-window expression. “I won’t put myself in the position where you can tell the chief of staff I ran out on you halfway through the night.”
“I wouldn’t.”
He must think her to be a complete fool if she’d trust him the minute she’d laid eyes on him, and she was not a fool. “Sorry, but that’s the sort of favor I’d only do for a friend.”
“We were friends once.”
“We were,” she conceded, “but not any more. Considering our past, aren’t you afraid I’ll slip arsenic into your coffee or smother you in your sleep?”
“I’ll take the chance, Bree,” he said dryly, “because we both know I won’t get any rest here. And…” He paused. “I’d hoped we could…talk.”
So Adrian wanted to talk, did he? She’d suffered through too many hurts to think that a simple heart-to-heart at this late date would clear the air and heal old wounds. He’d betrayed her trust and she couldn’t imagine any way he would possibly earn it again.
“You aren’t in any condition to carry on a conversation,” she said calmly, grateful for her ready-made excuse because the thought of discussing anything more serious than a weather forecast released a flock of butterflies in her stomach. The day for an in-depth conversation would come, but only when she was ready.
“Maybe not at this moment, but—”
“I’m not interested in rehashing ancient history,” she warned. “Not now. Not ever.”
“A year isn’t ancient history.”
“It is to me.” That year was a lifetime ago—Jeremy’s lifetime. Events before then weren’t worth the time or energy to dwell upon.
“Sabrina—” he began.
