Brenda Harlen - Two Doctors and A Baby

Although she wasn’t on the schedule tonight, she’d assisted him with a procedure earlier in the evening because they were short staffed and she was there. He’d expected that she would have gone home after that—making her escape as soon as possible. Apparently, he was wrong.

Callie nodded in response to his question. “She’s teaching the kid how to play Go Fish.”

He smiled at that, grateful Tanner had some kind of distraction. The eight-year-old had dialed 9-1-1 after his mother shot up a little too much of her favorite heroin cocktail and wouldn’t wake up. She still hadn’t woken up, and Tanner didn’t seem to know if he had any other family.

“Send Victoria in to see Tanner when she comes down,” he said. “I’m going to see how Mrs. Anderson is doing.”

“Good luck with that.”

Of course, it was his bad luck that he’d just opened the door to Exam Four when the psychologist appeared.

“What’s she doing here?” Nancy Anderson demanded.

“She’s not here to see you,” Justin assured her. Then, to Victoria, “Exam Two.”

“Thanks.” The psychologist moved on; the patient reapplied the ice pack to her jaw.

“Are you planning to go home tonight?” Justin asked her.

“Of course.”

“Do you need someone to call a cab for you?” he asked.

Nancy shook her head. “Ray’s waiting for me outside.”

He scribbled a prescription and handed her the slip. “Pain meds—for the wrist.”

She had to set down the ice to take it in her uninjured hand. “Thanks.”

There was so much more he could have said, so much more he wanted to say, but he simply nodded and left the room.

“Dare I hope that things are finally starting to slow down?” a pretty brunette asked when he returned to the nurses’ station. She’d only been working at Mercy a couple of months and he had to glance at the whiteboard to remind himself of her name: Heather.

“I wouldn’t,” Justin advised. “It’s early yet—still lots of champagne to be drunk and much idiocy to be demonstrated.”

She laughed. “How did you get stuck working New Year’s Eve?”

“Everyone has to take a turn.”

“Callie said it was Dr. Roberts’s turn.”

He shrugged. It was true that Greg Roberts had been on the schedule for tonight. It was also true that the other doctor was a newlywed while Justin had no plans for the evening. He’d received a couple of invitations to parties—and a few offers for more personal celebrations—but he’d declined them all without really knowing why. He usually enjoyed going out with friends, but lately he’d found himself tiring of the familiar scene.

“What’s going on with the guy in Exam Three?” Heather asked. “Are we going to be able to open up that room pretty soon?”

He shook his head. “Suspected alcohol poisoning. I’m waiting for the results from his blood alcohol and tox screens to confirm the diagnosis.” In the interim, the patient was on a saline drip for hydration.

“Speaking of alcohol,” Heather said. “I’ve got a bottle of champagne chilling at home to celebrate the New Year whenever I finally get out of here.”

“You plan on drinking a whole bottle of champagne by yourself?”

Her lips curved in a slow, seductive smile. “Unless you want to share it with me.”

What he’d intended as an innocent question had probably sounded to her as if he was angling for an invitation. But honestly, his thoughts had been divided between Nancy Anderson and Tanner Northrop, and Heather’s overture was as unexpected as it was unwanted.

“I’ve got the rest of the weekend off and my roommate is in Florida for the holidays,” Heather continued.

“Lucky you,” he noted.

She touched a hand to his arm. “We could be lucky together.”

He stepped back from the counter, so that her hand fell away, and finished making notes in the chart before he passed it to her. “Sorry,” he said, without really meaning it. “I’ve got other plans this weekend.”

“What about tonight?” she pressed. “Surely you’re not expected to be anywhere when we get off shift at two a.m.?”

“No,” he acknowledged. “But it’s been a really long night and I just want to go home to my bed. Alone.”

The hopeful light in her eyes faded. “Callie told me that you always go for the blondes.”

He wasn’t really surprised to hear that he’d been the subject of some conversation. He knew that the nurses often talked about the doctors. He also knew that some of them weren’t as interested in patient care as they were in adding the letters M-R-S to their names. But the fact that Callie had been drawn in to the discussion did surprise him, and he made a mental note to talk to her. If he couldn’t stop the gossip, he hoped to at least encourage discretion.

“My response has nothing to do with the color of your hair,” he assured Heather. “I’m just not interested in partying with anyone tonight.”

She pouted but turned her attention back to her work.

As he was walking away from the nurses’ station, a call came in from paramedics at an MVA seeking permission to transport multiple victims to the ER. Justin forgot about the gossip and refocused his mind on real priorities.

Avery Wallace rolled her shoulders, attempting to loosen the tight muscles that ached and burned. She was an obstetrician, not an ER doctor—and not scheduled to work tonight in any event. But she’d been on her way to a party with friends when she got the call from her answering service about a patient who was in labor and on her way to Mercy. She knew the doctor on call could handle the birth, but the expectant mother—a military wife whose family lived on the West Coast and whose husband was currently out of the country—was on her own and incredibly nervous about the birth of her first child.

Avery hadn’t hesitated to make the detour to the hospital. After texting a quick apology to Amy Seabrook—the friend and colleague who had invited her to the party—she’d exchanged her dress and heels for well-worn scrubs and running shoes.

After Michelle was settled with her new baby, Avery headed back to the locker room with the vague thought of salvaging her plans for the evening. She didn’t make it far before she was nabbed to assist Dr. Romeo—aka Justin Garrett—with a resuscitative thoracotomy in the ER.

While she might disapprove of his blatant flirtations with members of the female staff, she couldn’t deny that he was an exceptional doctor—or that her own heart always beat just a little bit faster whenever he was around. He stood about six feet two inches with a lean but strong build, short dark blond hair and deep green eyes. But it was more than his physical appearance that drew women to him. He was charming and confident, and not just a doctor but also a Garrett—a name with a certain inherent status in Charisma, North Carolina, where Garrett Furniture had been one of the town’s major employers for more than fifty years.

After more than three years of working beside him at the hospital, she would have expected to become inured to his presence. The truth was exactly the opposite—the more time she spent with him, the more appealing she found him. She respected his ability to take control in a crisis situation as much as she admired the compassion he showed to his patients and, as a result, she’d developed a pretty major crush on him—not that she had any intention of letting Dr. Romeo know it.

When the patient had been resuscitated and moved to surgery, he’d simply and sincerely thanked Avery for her help. That was another thing she liked about him—he might be in command of the ER, but he never overlooked the contributions of the rest of the staff.