Rick was her boss, which meant he was completely off limits. She needed to concentrate on her plans for the future, which included hopefully becoming pregnant and having a baby. A child she’d love with her whole heart.
Not a man.
Rick listened as the resident explained how Tristan Brown, Emily’s brother, was insisting on being placed in the same room as his sister. The fact that ICUs didn’t have double rooms wasn’t a good enough reason. Tristan was insisting on spending the rest of his hospital stay in the parent bed provided in each of the PICU rooms, but there was no way to manage the external fixation device for his open femur fracture on a tiny pull-out bed.
He’d extubated Tristan that morning, and the boy had immediately demanded to know how his sister was doing. Tristan had gotten so agitated, Rick had feared he might need to intubate and sedate him again, in order to prevent more damage to his lower leg fractures. Despite the traction pinning him to the bed, Tristan had threatened to pull himself over to Emily’s room, on his elbows if need be.
Rick had believed him.
“I’ll be up to see Tristan as soon as I’m finished with lunch,” Rick replied. “Emily is still in surgery, getting her Heartmate anyway, so tell Tristan he needs to be patient. We’ll have to do some investigating to see if what he’s asking for is even possible.”
“Will do.” The resident hung up the phone.
He returned to the table, taking his seat again.
“So what goals do you envision for the community education committee?” she asked, pushing her half-eaten salad away.
He tried to bring his attention back to the point of their lunch. “I don’t know for sure, but I think we need a few different campaigns.”
“There’s been quite a bit of press already around drinking and driving, but as eighty percent of our teenage motor vehicle crash patients come in with alcohol in their systems, it’s worth repeating.”
“Yeah.” He knew exactly how Tristan felt. He figured he’d be just as protective with his younger sister, Jess. But at the same time, compromising Tristan’s care wasn’t an option either.
“Rick? Are you okay?” Naomi asked in concern.
He nodded, realizing he’d been staring down at his half-eaten food. “Yeah. Sorry. Ah, the other big problem we see is that people simply don’t pay attention while driving.” Gabrielle and Sarah had died in a car crash, they’d been wiped out by some guy who’d run a red light while talking on his cell phone. The guy who’d killed his wife and daughter had been convicted for vehicular homicide, but the knowledge hadn’t helped to ease the pain of his loss.
“Cell phones are a menace.” Naomi snapped her fingers. “I know we could run some sort of ‘Just Drive’ campaign. No eating, no make-up, no cell phones. ‘Stay Alive, Just Drive’ could be our slogan.”
“Sounds good.” Stay alive, just drive. If only the guy who’d killed Gabrielle and Sarah had done that. His appetite vanished, so he gave up trying to finish his lunch. Just thinking about the accident that had cost his family’s lives made him feel ill. He’d thought he could do this, work on something productive to help get over his past, but he’d been wrong. There was no way he could work on this community education campaign after all. “Why don’t you see if you can get one of the ED doctors and nurses to help as I’m going to be pretty busy with the whole trauma re-verification process?”
Momentary confusion crossed her features, but she nodded. “Sure. No problem.”
“Are you finished?” He suddenly needed to get back to work, to stop fixating on the lingering, ache of his past. “I have to go upstairs to deal with a family issue.”
“Yes.” She stood when he did and carried her empty tray over to the sideboard. “Is the family issue one of the three from last night?”
“Tristan and Emily Brown.” Rick headed toward the elevator. “I extubated Tristan this morning, and now he’s insisting on staying in his sister’s room. Impossible, considering he has a grade-four liver laceration and a compound fractured femur.”
Naomi frowned. “Why is it impossible? Their parents are both patients in the adult unit at Trinity. I can understand why Tristan feels the need to be next to his sister.”
He stabbed the button to call the elevator. “I can understand how he feels, too, but that doesn’t mean he gets his way. How would we provide care for him? Especially when he’s still an ICU patient?”
“I don’t know, but I’m sure we could figure out a way.” Naomi’s chin tilted at a stubborn angle. “Those two kids deserve to be together.”
When they entered the unit, there was a team of medical personnel in Emily’s room. The young girl had just come back from surgery.
He followed Naomi in. For several moments they watched from the doorway as the team reconnected her to the bedside heart monitor, the large bulky Heartmate sitting beside her, dwarfing her small, frail frame.
Soon the urgency abated and the number of people in the room dwindled to just the nurse assigned to Emily’s care. Rick was about to go and talk to Tristan when he noticed Naomi taking a seat next to Emily’s bed.
“Hi, Emily,” she whispered, smoothing the young girl’s blonde hair away from her face with a tender, caring touch. “Did you know your brother Tristan is here, too? He’s right down the hall. He’ll be in to visit you very soon. He told me to tell you he loves you. Tristan loves you, Emily.” Naomi’s voice broke and she blinked away tears. “You’re going to feel better soon, you’ll see.”
His heart lodged in his throat. The compassion on her face tugged at him. He wanted to go to her, to wrap her in his arms and hold her close. Naomi didn’t just care about a young patient, this was something more. The wistful expression full of love and caring in her eyes reminded him all too well of the way Gabrielle had looked when she’d held their daughter in her arms.
He shook his head. What was wrong with him? He shouldn’t be attracted to Naomi, especially not when in that fleeting moment the keen compassion in her eyes had reminded him of his wife.
Gabrielle and Sarah deserved better than to be shoved aside and forgotten.
He turned away, tearing his gaze from Naomi. Somehow, some way, he had to find a way to keep the pretty surgeon at a safe distance. So she didn’t threaten his sanity.
CHAPTER FOUR
NAOMI returned to the hospital at five o’clock that evening to start her overnight call shift. When she arrived in the PICU, Rick didn’t smile but gave her a reserved nod.
“Ready to make rounds?” he asked.
“Sure.” She frowned as they walked toward the first patient’s room, sending him a sidelong glance. Had she done something to make him angry?
“Justin Wright has a sixteen-year-old gunshot wound to the belly and was admitted the night before last, on Debra’s shift.” Rick’s voice was devoid of all emotion—he could have been reciting from an encyclopedia rather than describing a patient’s condition. “He’s running a fever so I switched his antibiotics this morning. If he doesn’t improve, he may need to go back to surgery to have his abdomen
