surgery he gave her a brief, concise pronouncement that the patient was doing as expected. She left with a “Thank you, Doctor.” Again, she was with the family when he came in to speak to them.
Finished he stood, stepped away from the group and said, “Stacey, may I speak to you a moment?”
A shiver of uncertainty went through her. Yep, she’d overstepped. “Yes, sir.”
In the hall, he slowed long enough to say, “I’ll be doing rounds in thirty minutes. Meet me at my office in ten. Do you know where that is?”
“I’ll find it.”
He nodded. She was quickly learning it was his signature acknowledgment.
Stacey made sure she was a minute early when she knocked on his door.
“Come in.”
His accent wasn’t the typical clipped, sharp, New Englander one. What was his story? It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t be around long enough to really get to know him, or anyone else well. Four short weeks didn’t leave much time to create friendships. That’s how she’d spent most of her life. She never stayed in one place long enough to get close to people and start caring about them on a personal level, on purpose. She made sure to leave before she could be left. If you cared you got hurt. She’d had enough of that in her life.
Early in life after her father had left and then again when her mother had divorced her second husband, she’d learned not caring meant that you didn’t feel pain. The ache had been so great when she’d been a child she never wanted it to happen again. She’d do anything to make that not occur, to the point of remaining distant. People disappointed her if she let them close enough. When her mother had brought home her third husband, Stacey hadn’t even bothered to call him by his real name. Instead she made up a name for him, one she could easily forget. She’d spent most of her time in her room.
The only permanent person in her life was her mother and Stacey hadn’t seen her in over a year. In fact, she was due for a visit that Stacey planned to make before she left for her next assignment in Ethiopia. As soon as this placement was done she would spend a couple of days with her mother then not bother again for another year. She couldn’t rely on her mother, who had always had her own screwed-up life to worry about. The one time Stacey had let her guard down and let someone get too close romantically, he had disappointed her as well. Once again her heart had been crushed.
She’d been engaged. Had believed she had found the guy who would treat her as if she were special, one who would always be there for her, share the family with her that she’d never had. Instead she’d found out he’d been cheating on her. Their life together had been over before it had even properly started. Once again she was of no value to anyone. She’d ended their relationship with one of the same ugly scenes she’d witnessed her mother having when one of her relationships had ended.
That’s when Stacey had decided seeing the world and devoting herself to professionally caring for people was safer than nurturing the terminally ill hope that someone would someday actually want her, see her as essential to their life. Now she didn’t stay in one place long enough to allow a bond to form beyond what was necessary. It was better, simpler, and easier on her heart that way.
Dr. Brennan, sitting behind his desk, raised his dark head, his eyes studying her. She was sure his intent scrutiny wasn’t missing a thing. That shrewdness must be part of the reason he was such a well-respected physician in his field. She had researched him on the internet before agreeing to the job.
“I want to apologize for my comment in the OR. That wasn’t the place to tease you.” She walked further into the room.
One of his brows rose slightly. “I’m not used to being teased, in or out of the OR.”
Oops. She had no doubt that was true.
“We need to get to rounds. The girls have dance practice this evening.”
Thankfully he’d changed the subject. “Girls? As in plural?”
Standing, he moved around the desk. “My daughters.”
He was tall, her head only reached to his shoulder. His large open office seemed small with him in it. She’d only seen one child that morning. But he had another.
“Lizzy has an older sister, Jean. She’s isn’t quite so demanding and is far more independent. She’d already gone into day care when you came along.” He twisted his lips. “And didn’t require a bow.”
Stacey grinned. There was affection in his voice when he spoke of his children. That alone made her admire him. She’d never heard that from a man while growing up. Mostly she’d just been in the way.
He led the way out the door.
Prone to chattering when she was nervous, Stacey said, “This is an amazing clinic. Nothing like what I’ve been working in while I was in South America.”
“Thanks. It was a real answer to our prayers. Alex and I created a great place to work while still giving our children and the staff a quality place to stay while we do that.” He stopped at a patient’s door. “This is Mrs. Fitzpatrick. She had her surgery a week ago.” Dr. Brennan was back in doctor mode as he knocked on the door.
At the sound of “Come in” they did, him leading the way.
A woman in her mid-sixties with vivid white hair cut in a fashionable style sat regally in a chair next to the windows. Across from her in a matching wingback was an older man, who complemented her appearance. They had the aura of wealth.
Stacey took a quick glance around the room. The bed alone said that the Maple Island Clinic was a cut above other medical facilities. It looked like a typical one that might be found in anybody’s bedroom, but she was pretty sure that beneath the floral spread it functioned like a hospital bed. The view beyond the windows was of a spring-green grassy area leading to ocean waves. Stacey could well understand why people would want to come here to recuperate.
“Hello, Dr. Brennan,” the woman said proudly. “I’ve been up and moving around today.”
“That’s good to hear.” He stepped closer.
The older man stood and the two men shook hands.
Dr. Brennan turned toward her. “Mr. and Mrs. Fitzpatrick, this is my new nurse, Stacey Ryder.”
Smiling at them, she said, “Please call me Stacey.” Then she addressed the woman. “I understand you had a knee replacement.”
“I did. Thanks to Dr. Brennan I’ll finally be able to get on the floor with my grandkids.”
Stacey’s smile widened. Mrs. Fitzpatrick didn’t seem the type to want to do that, but now she could. “That’s great to hear.”
“I’d like to check your incision, if I may?” Dr. Brennan asked.
Mrs. Fitzpatrick pulled her right pants leg up over her knee. Dr. Brennan went down on his heels to examine it closely. “It looks good. Now let me see you bend it.”
The woman lifted it up and down. Stacey didn’t miss how her lips tightened, but she didn’t make a sound.
Dr. Brennan stood and put his hand on her
