Nursing The Doctor Read online

  The team’s aggressive and invasive actions during the next few moments would determine whether or not Harlan Mcfail would survive to quarrel with his wife again.

  The patient was intubated, and Lily quickly and expertly inserted the intravenous needle for the Ringer’s lactate. The knife was removed.

  Blood was drawn and tests ordered. A portable X-ray machine would determine whether or not there was arterial damage from the knife.

  Although his airways were unobstructed, Mcfail was not breathing well. Greg used his stethoscope. “No breath sounds on the right. We’ve got a pneumothorax of the right lung,” he concluded.

  Lily had been monitoring blood pressure. “BP’s dropping rapidly, sixty over forty,” she reported.

  Air was seeping into the chest with every breath, but not out, creating a bubble of air that was compressing the collapsed lung.

  Greg inspected Mcfail’s neck. The trachea was visibly shifting to the left, indicating that the air was also pushing the trachea and other vital structures over.

  “Tension pneumothorax,” Greg muttered, reaching for the needle Lily had ready. He quickly stabbed it into the man’s upper chest and released the trapped air, but the needle had to be replaced by a much larger tube that would help to re-expand the lung.

  Again, Lily had the equipment ready before Greg could request it. With the scalpel she handed him, he made a small incision in the skin, dissected down and into the pleura and poked a large tube into the chest cavity. The tube would now suck out blood and air and re-inflate the lung.

  Greg used his stethoscope again and nodded, satisfied.

  Lily confirmed that blood pressure was up and holding steady. Harlan was stable enough to transfer to the OR.

  “That’s it, boys and girls, another delighted customer will undoubtedly send us referrals the moment he wakes up.”

  Under the glibness, there was satisfaction in Greg’s voice, and he grinned at Lily as she glanced up at the clock on the wall, astounded to find that an hour had gone by in what she’d assumed was the space of a heartbeat. It was now after seven. Her shift had officially ended fifteen minutes ago.

  She tugged off her mask and goggles. She knew Greg was right behind her when she stepped out of the trauma room. A glance around told her that for the first time in hours, the ER was quiet. The waiting area was almost empty, Elizabeth and several other nurses sitting behind the desk sipping coffee as they brought charts up to date.

  “I ordered a pizza a long time ago. Jimmy will be baby-sitting it for me,” Greg said. Jimmy was the clerk on whom everyone relied. “Care for a slice, Lil? Pepperoni and pineapple.”

  Her refusal should have been automatic. It always had been before. Now, she turned and looked up at him. His mop of curly dark hair was matted from the headgear, and he reached up and tousled it. She could tell from the gleam in his deep-set brown eyes and the palpable air of vitality that seemed to radiate from his athlete’s body that he was still pumped from the drama they’d just been through, just as she was.

  And she sensed from the mocking tone in the invitation and the cynical lift of one eyebrow that he absolutely expected her to decline.

  More than anything she hated being predictable.

  “Thanks, I’m starved.”

  He blinked and his eyes widened in surprise.

  She felt a jolt of perverse satisfaction. Gotcha, Dr. Brulotte.

  “Staff lounge, five minutes. I’ve gotta wash up. You want a soda with it, Lil? I’m getting one from the machine."

  “Sounds good.”

  He was prompt. Exactly five minutes later he shouldered open the door to the lounge, balancing a cardboard pizza box and two cans of soda. With a graceful flourish he set everything down on the battered coffee table and sank onto the sagging brown sofa.

  Lily perched on the edge of one of the straight-backed chairs wondering what on earth she thought she was doing. After months of being cool, professional and deliberately offhand with this man, she was about to eat his pizza, drink his soda and make conversation with him late at night in a deserted lounge. There truly was something wrong with her head.

  “Let’s fix you up a plate, here, Lil.” Greg carefully tore the top off the pizza container and separated two hefty slices dripping with cheese. He balanced them neatly on the inside of the cardboard and handed them to her along with an opened can of soda and several paper napkins. Then he took a slice of pizza for himself and devoured it in huge bites.

  He reached for another, and before Lily had even tasted hers, his second slice was also history. He glanced up as he reached for a third, and the mesmerized expression on her face made him laugh.

  “Sorry. No manners. I missed dinner, and in the back of my mind I always figure I’m gonna get paged. The ER’s turned me into a crude speed eater, Olympic category.”

  Lily nodded. “You have to be quick around here or you’d starve to death. Please, don’t let me slow you down.”

  She bit into her own pizza, much too aware of him to be able to savor it. It had been a mistake to sit across from him, because she was forced to look directly at him. How could a man seem so sexy while bolting pepperoni pizza?

  And in spite of the speed at which he ate, Greg was the picture of relaxation, slumped back on the sofa cushions, one long leg propped across the other knee. Under his lab coat he was wearing what he usually did in the ER, a pair of well-used gray cords and a dark plaid button-front shirt, with high-top basketball shoes on his enormous feet.

  The clothing was comfortable and unremarkable. It was the body inside it that was distracting. He was pretty much a perfect male specimen, she estimated. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, long, muscular legs. And those sculpted good looks to top it all off.

  “So, what are you gonna do with your time off, Lil? I overheard you telling Liz you were off for a week. You going down to Mexico to catch some sun?” He was still munching away, somehow managing to chew and talk at the same time without seeming boorish.

  Lily swallowed before she replied, thinking of Hannah sternly admonishing her and Kaleb for talking with their mouths full when they were little. Greg had obviously never had the same lessons drilled into him. He was chewing steadily, one thick eyebrow tilted inquiringly as he waited for her answer.

  “I’m not going anywhere.” She didn’t volunteer anything more, deliberately turning the conversation to him. “I hear you’re a skier. I guess it’s snowing like crazy up at Whistler today.”

  “Isn’t it great? There’s nothing like fresh powder. We’re heading up early tomorrow morning, so I hope it lasts.”

  He’d slowed down now on the pizza. He was taking languid bites, interspersed with sips of soda, and he was watching her a little too intently for comfort. “You ski, Lil?”

  “Nope.” She shook her head. “Never learned to ski or play tennis or operate a sailboat. I’m recreationally challenged.”

  “Oh, I dunno. I bet there’re activities you’d excel at if you’d only give yourself half a chance.” His husky voice deepened and his eyes seemed to caress her.

  Such obvious sexual innuendo didn’t deserve an answer, in her opinion. She gave him a cool look and concentrated on her pizza. He laughed as if they’d shared a good joke and then said, “You grow up here in Vancouver, Lily?”

  “Yes, I did.” Again, she turned the question back on him. “How about you?”

  “Nope.” He shook his head. “I was born here, but I grew up in Greenwood. You ever heard of Greenwood?”

  “Isn’t it a small mining town somewhere in the interior of B.C.?”

  He nodded. “Full marks, Lil. My grandpa had a family practice in Greenwood, I lived with him and my grandma. He retired five years ago at the age of seventy-six.”

  “That’s a long career. He must have enjoyed being a doctor.”

  Greg’s smile was reminiscent, his voice affectionate. “He loved it. He’d still be working if he hadn’t had a slight stroke. After that, he was smart enough to realize that he
couldn’t give the quality care he always had, so he retired.”

  “You go back there often?” This was a side of him she’d wondered about, his family, whether he was close to them. It was a little disturbing how often she speculated on Greg Brulotte and his life.

  “Not as often as I should. Gram died some years ago, and I try to get there every six months or so, see how Gramps is doing. I’m heading back for a visit in the spring.” He looked pensive for a moment. “I should really go through for Christmas, but I’ve already made plans.”

  I’ll just bet you have, Lily thought. I wonder who the lady is? Out loud she said, “You ever thought of practicing in a small town, Doctor?”

  He tipped his head back and laughed, then shot her an incredulous look. “C’mon, Lil. Can you see me in a small town treating measles and viral infections?”

  He grinned at her, the intimate, crooked, engaging grin that she knew was calculated to set every woman’s pulse hammering when he aimed it at them. It infuriated her to know that she wasn’t immune.

  “So, what have you got against measles and viral infections?” She deliberately avoided his gaze, pretending to examine the pizza on her lap. “Burnout’s pretty high in the ER. Most of us ordinary mortals have a contingency plan for our doddering years.”

  “Oh, yeah? And what’s yours?”

  She reached over and set the cardboard on the table, then got to her feet. “Oh, I figure I’ll go work in extended care, just for a total change of pace. With the baby boomers aging, it’s gonna be where all the action is in twenty years or so.”

  He laughed. He liked to laugh, Lily realized, and his laugh was good to hear, filled with ebullient energy and a sense of fun.

  “Much as I luv ya, Lil, I can’t promise to go along with you on that one. As you’ve probably guessed, I’m not long enough on patience for extended care. Nope, I intend to stay right here in Emerg as long as they’ll have me.”

  A woman’s calm voice on the intercom said, “Dr. Brulotte, Dr. Brulotte, report to Emergency, stat.”

  “Well, seems right now they can’t live without you.” Lily smiled. “Thanks for the pizza.”

  “My pleasure. Maybe we can do it again sometime soon?”

  Maybe not. It hadn’t been the best idea she’d ever had. Greg Brulotte was like eating chocolate; one bite and she wanted the whole bar.

  She smiled noncommittally and shrugged as he winked at her and loped out the door.

  Forty minutes later, Lily closed the door of her childhood home behind her and stood for a moment in the entrance hall, listening.

  Always early to retire and up at the crack of dawn, Hannah had recently decided she didn’t like going to bed at all. Often she became noisy and agitated when anyone insisted she put her nightclothes on.

  And sometimes late at night she believed it was already morning and got up, struggling into her dress, wandering around the house. Worst of all, she often took it into her head to cook at that time, and she could no longer be trusted to turn burners off on the stove.

  That’s what had happened the night of the fire. Lily had been working the night shift in the ER, seven at night to seven in the morning, and Hannah had turned the stove on at 2:00 a.m. and burned the bottom out of a pot.

  Kaleb of course had installed smoke detectors, and they went off, alerting him, but the house reeked of smoke for days afterward.

  Tonight, apart from the muted sound of the television in the den, the old, rambling house was blessedly quiet. It smelled not of smoke tonight, but of fresh bread. Kaleb, an avid cook, had recently bought a bread machine.

  With a sigh of relief, Lily laid her handbag on the hall table and took off her raincoat and boots. She put the boots on the rubber mat and found a free hook on the antique rack to hang her dripping raincoat before she made her way along the hall to the den.

  “Hi, Kaleb.”

  Her brother turned his blond head toward her and smiled a greeting. He was slouched in the comer of the chintz-covered sofa, his tiny daughter draped across his broad chest like some exotic ornament. The television was tuned to the local news station.

  Zoe was in pink flannel pajamas, sound asleep against her father’s chest, her silvery curls tousled, her ridiculously long, dark eyelashes fanned across round, flushed cheeks. Children’s books surrounded them, spilling off the sofa onto the floor, scattered across the scarred surface of the low oak coffee table.

  “She finally conked out, but only a few minutes ago,” Kaleb related in a hushed tone. “She wouldn’t settle down. She kept asking for more stories. I must have read Pat the Bunny twenty-three times. I’ll take her up and put her in her crib now.” He shifted the little girl into a more secure position and got up, cradling her gently against his tall, lanky frame.

  “I didn’t know she’d be here tonight.” Kaleb was divorced, and Zoe had spent the past couple of days with her mother. Lily went over and pressed a kiss on her niece’s forehead and smoothed her damp hair, breathing in the wonderful scent of the freshly bathed little girl.

  “Darcy phoned in a panic and dropped her off at suppertime. Zoe kept asking where you were.”

  Lily’s eyes lingered on her tiny niece. “It’ll be fun to have her here in the morning. She likes me to make her toast fingers. She’s got us both wrapped around one tiny finger, big brother.”

  “Naaa. You really think so?” Kaleb grinned, his craggy face crinkling into laugh lines around his nose and mouth. He looked down at his daughter. “I was sitting here thinking how much easier it is to read Pat the Bunny than it’s gonna be to sit and wait for her to come home from a date with some young jerk I don’t trust.”

  “You’ve got a few years before that happens. Gram settled down okay?”

  “Yup. She had one of her good nights, went off to bed all by herself without a fuss. Thank God for small blessings. Dealing with two obstinate females tonight would have done me in.” He headed for the stairs. “Back in a minute.”

  Lily sat down on the sofa and stared at the television for several long moments. The weather was on, and the forecaster was predicting more rain, with snow at higher levels. Greg would be pleased. An image of his face

  popped into her head, and she got to her feet, impatient with herself for allowing him into her thoughts again. She was probably just overtired and having hallucinations, she told herself with a wry grin. She’d make a cup of tea, sample Kaleb’s fresh bread and then head up to bed.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Kaleb found Lily in the comfortable but antiquated kitchen, pouring boiling water into a teapot and making two slices of toast.

  “You want some? This bread’s awesome.”

  “I’m gonna have a beer instead.” He opened the fridge and extracted a can.

  Lily smeared butter and jam on her toast, and together they sat down at the wooden table.

  “Darcy wants me to keep Zoe all week,” Kaleb said. “She says she’s got an important seminar in Seattle.”

  Kaleb’s ex-wife was an advertising executive, and it seemed that her work claimed more and more of her time, her daughter less and less. Lily suspected that there was more than work involved; Darcy was attractive and sensual. She was also monumentally self-centered.

  “I told her I’d have to talk to you about keeping Zoe,” Kaleb went on, popping the top of his beer. “You’d have her on your own for most of the next couple of days, and then I’ve got that course. I’d be home evenings, but it doesn’t seem fair, you using your days off to care for Zoe as well as keep an eye on Gram.”

  “You know I adore having Zoe all to myself. Call Darcy and tell her it’s fine.”

  “Thanks, sis.” Kaleb’s gray eyes telegraphed his relief and appreciation. “I know Darcy’s taking advantage of us both.”

  “You heard from the lawyer?”

  “She called this afternoon. She’s waiting for a court date.” Although the courts had granted Darcy’s request for custody of Zoe at the time of the divorce, Kaleb’s lawyer was asking tha
t the issue of custody and child support be reexamined.

  Kaleb was paying Darcy for Zoe’s care even though Zoe had lived with him for the better part of the past six months.

  Her brother was a wonderful father, Lily mused. He’d be elated if Zoe lived with them full-time. And so would she. Caring for her niece was probably as close as she’d ever get to parenting, just as the seven months she’d lived with Richard Polifka was probably as close as she’d ever come to marriage.

  After graduation from nursing school, Lily had moved around a lot for several years, working in small towns and larger cities, enjoying the sense of independence and freedom her life-style afforded. When she was in her mid twenties, she’d applied for and gotten a job in the OR at Calgary General, and she’d liked it and stayed.

  Richard was the chief of surgery. For the first several years they’d simply been teammates and casual friends. In his middle thirties, Richard was recently divorced and wildly attractive, although he wasn’t dating anyone in particular.

  One night after a particularly difficult surgery, they’d had dinner together. After that, they’d dated for several months, and then he told her he loved her and asked her to move in with him.

  Lily had given the decision a lot of consideration. There was a definite bond between them. She thought she loved Richard as much as it was possible for her to love a man, and at last she agreed. And in spite of her initial reservations, it had been pleasant. Because of their work, they weren’t often home at the same time. When they were, they enjoyed each other’s company, and there was always work to discuss.

  And then one morning Richard asked her to marry him, and Lily knew deep in her soul that she couldn’t do it. She cared about him, she even loved him, but she couldn’t bring herself to love or trust him enough to make a lifelong commitment.

  Maybe she didn’t have it in her to trust any man enough to marry, she thought despondently. That’s when she’d resigned her position and come home to Vancouver. The timing was exactly right: Kaleb, who’d recently divorced and was living here with Gram, was beginning to have problems caring for her alone.