Ben was Kylie’s son, but it was clear from Seth’s actions that he already considered the boy to be his own. Seth and Kylie were getting married next weekend, on New Year’s Eve.
She envied their happiness, although reminded herself that she’d been lucky to have loved a wonderful man like George. George had understood and respected her hesitancy to have children, considering she didn’t know anything about her heritage. Heaven knew what genes she’d be passing on. She missed him, and tried to be grateful for the few months they’d shared together.
Pushing the sorrows of the past aside, Leila was going to ask more details about their young patients, but in that moment both their pagers went off.
“They’re here,” he said, leaving the staff break room in a rush to get out to the trauma room. Leila followed close on his heels, her previous exhaustion quickly submerged beneath a fresh wave of adrenaline.
“Danny is the more seriously injured of the two,” Kylie Germaine was saying, as the gurneys were wheeled in. Leila was surprised to see Quinn Torres walking on the opposite side of the gurney from Kylie, hanging on to the boy’s hand. What on earth had he been doing on the sledding hill? “Danny is six years old, weighs an estimated thirty pounds and has sustained a head injury and possible fractured left tibia.”
“And what about the second victim?” Leila asked, not willing to take only the paramedic’s word about which patient was worse, no matter how much she liked and trusted Kylie. She needed to make her own judgment.
Quinn opened his mouth, but Kylie put a hand on his arm and continued, not giving him the chance to interrupt.
“Charlie Atkins is also six years old, also estimated to be about thirty pounds and he doesn’t seem to have any obvious signs of injury,” Kylie informed them. “Charlie’s vitals are stable. Danny Torres was in the front of the sled and took the brunt of the force when they hit the tree.”
Danny Torres? Leila suppressed a spurt of surprise in discovering Quinn had a son. She never would have guessed him to be a father. Did Quinn have a wife, too?
And why did she care?
Her gaze centered on the boy. Danny was crying, but not making much noise, his sobs choked as if he was afraid to make any sound. Her heart melted in empathy. She crossed over to him, trying to ignore Quinn’s sharp, penetrating gaze.
“Hi, Danny, my name is Dr. Leila and I’m here to help make you feel better.” She gave Danny her best reassuring smile and the boy struggled to stop crying, seemingly listening to her soft voice. “You’re being very brave, Danny. I know you’re hurt. The nurse is going to give you something to take away your pain, but first I need to ask you a few questions. Can you tell me exactly where it hurts the most? Which part of your body hurts the most?”
Danny pointed to his left leg and looked up at his father, tears continuing to trickle silently down his ruddy cheeks.
“No, Danny can’t tell you where it hurts,” Quinn said in a low, rough voice full of parental concern. “He doesn’t talk, but he does know sign language. I’ll translate for him.”
Chapter Three
“DANNY doesn’t talk?” Leila said with a frown. That didn’t make sense, since Danny seemed to hear her just fine. Unless he was extremely skilled at lip-reading? “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize he was deaf.”
“He’s not deaf,” Quinn said in a clipped, irritated tone. “He just doesn’t talk.” Quinn’s jaw was tense as if he didn’t like having to explain his son’s situation. He turned toward the boy and his voice became gentle. “Danny, Dr. Ross wants to know where you hurt. Tell us exactly what hurts you, okay?”
Danny pointed to his left leg and his forehead. He had the same jet-black hair as his father, and the same dark compelling eyes. The resemblance between father and son was striking.
“What about your stomach, Danny?” Leila persisted. “Does your stomach hurt? Or maybe your ribs?”
Danny shook his head, big, fat tears trickling down his cheeks. For some reason, those silent tears bothered her more than if he’d been wailing loudly. Kylie had stabilized his left lower leg, containing his possible fracture within an inflatable boot, but for the moment she was more concerned about the extent of his head injury. “Okay, Danny, I’m going to examine you for a minute here. I’m going to flash a small light into your eyes, okay? Can you look over my shoulder at the wall behind me?”
Danny nodded and complied with her request. His pupils were unequal but did react to light. “Any blurred vision, Danny? Or ringing in your ears? Do you feel sick to your stomach?”
Quinn’s son shook his head to all her questions.
She could feel Quinn’s intense gaze and couldn’t help wondering if he didn’t trust her judgment. At least, not when it came to his son.
“Danny, can you tell me where you are?” To this point, she’d given him all yes or no questions, but now she needed to really assess his brain function. “What is this place?”
“Hospital,” Quinn said when Danny made a few graceful gestures with his small hands. “The hospital where my dad works.”
“Good. Now, tell me which holiday we just had?”
For a moment the boy’s forehead furrowed, as if he had to think about her question.
She glanced at Quinn. “Do you celebrate the holiday?”
Quinn nodded. “Which holiday did we just have, Danny?” he asked, signing the question at the same time.
“Christmas,” Quinn said when Danny responded by signing again. “He says he received a games console for Christmas.”
“Ah, I bet that’s fun. I heard Ben Germaine got one, too. Do you let your dad play with it or is it only for kids?” she asked.
For the first time, a smile broke through on Danny’s young face. He nodded, his fingers flew again and she found herself wishing she knew sign language herself, so she could communicate better with the boy directly, without needing Quinn.
“Yes, he lets me play so that he can win,” Quinn translated.
She laughed. “Good for you, Danny. I’d love to watch you beat your dad. Now, is it okay if I listen to your heart and lungs?”
Danny nodded, and she quickly auscultated his heart, lungs and stomach before straightening to glance at Quinn.
“He certainly seems stable, but with his pupils being slightly unequal in size, I’d like to get a CT scan of his head, just to make sure we’re not missing anything more serious. We can also get the X-rays of his leg at the same time. I’d like to have the films ready before I call the orthopedic surgeon on call to take a look at his leg.”
“All right,” Quinn said, giving his consent. “I’d like to go with him to the radiology department.”
“Of course. And we’ll give him something for pain, too, since I’m sure his leg will be hurting once they take that boot off.” For an awkward moment she hesitated, wondering if she should ask about Danny’s mother or not. Quinn wasn’t exactly forthcoming about his personal
