She’d probably never know.
New beginnings.
No more staring in the rearview mirror. There was nothing back there she needed to see. She was supposed to be looking to the future.
And if her glance strayed to places it shouldn’t?
Like Zeke Bruen?
Yes. She could acknowledge that he’d caught her eye. But if she was smart, Lindy would make sure that was all he caught: her glance. Because a glance was temporary. A gaze, however...well, that carried a lot more permanence. And that was going to be reserved for Daisy and Daisy only.
No matter how difficult that might prove to be.
* * *
Zeke could see Lindy standing by the nurses’ station, staring at the patient board.
Lunch the other day had been a blur of exhaustion and depleted emotions. Suicide attempts were always difficult, but this was one life they’d saved.
For how long, though?
The kicker was that these teens thought they wanted to die. Zeke’s daughter, on the other hand, had wanted to live. Only she hadn’t gotten to choose.
He glanced at the board. Two of those up there were his patients. Lindy would be one of the surgical nurses. He’d asked for her and wasn’t sure why. He suspected some of it had to do with seeing the object of her clock-watching up close and personal. Small and full of smiles, Lindy’s daughter was a miniature version of her. Only Lindy’s smile seemed much more elusive than her child’s. And something Rachel had said stayed with him over the last couple of days. And he couldn’t even remember exactly what it had been. It was more her tone of voice.
He should turn around and walk away before he found himself caught up in something he wanted no part of. But to do so might make her think it was because of her. And she’d be right.
Better that he go over and talk to her as if she were any other member of the team. “Off to an early start?”
She whirled around, a hand pressed to her chest, face draining of all color. When she focused on him, she gave a nervous laugh and leaned back against the counter. “Oh, God, sorry. You startled me.”
Startled? That was the second time he’d seen her react like that.
“I didn’t mean to. Did you think I was the hospital administrator or something?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I was just lost in thought. Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to sneak up on people?”
“They did. I just wasn’t aware that I was sneaking.”
“No, of course you weren’t.” She sucked down a deep breath and blew it out. “Sorry. Anyway, did you catch up on your sleep?”
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d scared someone like that, and he was pretty sure that time it had been on purpose. But her explanation was reasonable.
“I did, thanks. Just checking in about the surgeries I have scheduled. You’ll be scrubbing in on both of them?” Since he’d put her name in as someone he wanted on those cases, the question was more rhetorical than anything.
Her glance went back to the board. “Ledbetter and Brewster? Yes. Anything I should know?”
“Ledbetter has had a reaction to anesthesia before, so they’re tweaking the ratios. Just wanted you to be aware in case we have to make a sudden shift in care.”
“Okay, got it. And Brewster?”
“We’re doing her first. Pneumothorax. Routine.”
Lindy gave a visible swallow and looked back up at the board. “She’s only five? Since when is a collapsed lung in a child that age considered routine?”
“When that child has been kicked by her father. And I worded that badly. It’s never routine.” Just saying the words made a jet of anger spurt through Zeke’s chest. What kind of monster hurt his own child? Or any child?
“That’s horrible.” Her voice came out as a whisper.
The boards listed names and ages and team members, but nothing more.
“I know. I thought maybe you’d looked at the charts.”
She reached behind her and gripped the edge of the desk. “I just got here. I was going to look at them once I figured out which cases I’d be working on.”
The hospital had code numbers for staffing the surgical suites, with the surgeons sometimes handpicking their crews, and other times it was the luck of the draw, depending on scheduling.
Zeke had asked for her, telling himself he wanted to see her in action now that he knew a little more about her. There were a few surgical nurses that he preferred not to work with, either because they were difficult or because they were slow to hand over instruments. Every surgeon had their own style and not everyone meshed with his. He knew he could sometimes be demanding.
Like confronting Lindy about being distracted that first time working together?
It had nothing to do with idle interest and everything to do with watching her work. She definitely had compassion, judging from her reaction to the patient with the collapsed lung.
“These kinds of cases are always difficult.”
“Yes. Yes, they are.”
The thread of resignation in her voice gave him pause. Maybe her other hospital saw more cases involving domestic violence than Mid Savannah did, although even one case was too many.
“We’ll get her patched up, and hopefully the system will do what it’s supposed to do and keep her out of that home. I think the dad is in jail right now.”
“As well he should be. And her mother?”
“She said she was at work when the incident happened.”
“The incident. That’s one way to put it.” Her tight voice spoke volumes. Then she sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. The wheels of justice just never seem to turn fast enough.”
“I didn’t think you were, and you’re right, they don’t. But those wheels can’t move on their own. There has to be that initial push.”
First she’d jumped when he’d come up behind her, now this. Was she just out of sorts today or was something else going on?
“Those situations are just so hard. I actually volunteered at a center helping victims of domestic violence, so it’s just straying a bit too close to home.”
“That’s interesting. I sat in on a meeting of department heads a couple of weeks ago. The hospital has discussed putting together a center for victims of domestic violence or abuse. They already have a grant from a private donor, but they need someone to jump start things. So far no one has stepped up to volunteer.”
Lindy’s
