only excuse was that she could finally give herself permission to be angry about his decision to take this flight in the first place.
Yet, however one might psychoanalyze her reaction, Gabe’s return didn’t wipe their slate of problems clean. They still had to be addressed in some manner and the easiest and most expedient method was to get his signature on those divorce documents, wherever they currently were.
Realizing her fingers were still entwined with his, she pulled her hand free.
Jeff’s gaze was speculative as he glanced at her. He’d clearly noticed how her touch had lingered longer than was actually necessary, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he finished his exam and tucked his stethoscope back into his pocket with deliberate movements.
“All things considered,” he said, “you’re not in too bad a shape.” He paused ever so slightly as his gaze slid sideways to Leah and then back to Gabe. “You’re a lucky fellow in more ways than one.”
“You don’t have to remind me,” Gabe answered fervently.
A meaningful note in his tone made Leah question if the two men were discussing Gabe’s health or if this was some sort of private male discussion, but before she could wade into the conversation, Jeff fell back into his professional mode.
“You’ve probably diagnosed yourself, but I want X-rays to check your ribs and your arm as well as basic bloodwork and cultures. To be honest, I’m not happy with the way your leg is healing, so prepare yourself for a few rounds of IV antibiotics.” He glanced at Leah. “I want those started immediately.”
Considering the state of Gabe’s leg, Jeff’s treatment plan was not only sound, it was necessary to stop the infection from turning septic. Without a word, she began pulling the appropriate IV supplies from the cabinet.
Gabe sighed audibly, as if he also knew the IV was necessary but wasn’t particularly happy about it. “I’d expected as much.”
“I’m glad we agree. After I see the films and lab results, we’ll talk again.”
“Any chance I can shower in the doctors’ lounge before you run me through the testing mill?” Gabe’s expression was hopeful. He might be the full-time CEO of the Montgomery Medical Foundation but he was also a member of the surgical staff at Spring Valley Memorial and, as such, he filled in a few nights a month and the occasional weekend when the regular surgeons took time off.
“Of course,” Jeff agreed, “but if we delay your tests, we also delay your treatment. So let’s do the cultures, blood samples and X-rays first, then by the time you finish your shower, we’ll have answers and can decide what comes next.”
Knowing how Gabe hated to compromise, Leah expected him to argue, but to her surprise, he didn’t. “Okay. If it means I’ll get out of here sooner, we’ll do it your way.”
Jeff grinned. “I’m glad to hear it. While you’re stuck in Radiology, I’ll see about arranging for first-class bathroom accommodations.” He turned to Leah. “He’s all yours for now.”
It was a throw-away statement, a figure of speech, but she wondered if his qualifier referred to tending Gabe’s injuries or if it had more personal overtones. Because it was far easier to fall back on the comforting routine of following a doctor’s orders, she did so, determined to leave the soul-searching for later when her mind had stopped reeling.
Thank goodness experience allowed her to perform her tasks without thinking as she still considered Gabe’s return as nothing short of miraculous. Thankfully, and perhaps Jeff had alerted Marge to the situation, Jane came in to help.
“Stay,” Gabe said when Leah tried to escape, and so she did, but by the time he’d finished the lab draws and X-rays, his face was white and pinched with pain. Clearly, he was in desperate need of rest.
“I think the shower should wait,” she began.
His jaw squared. “No way.”
“Not even until you’ve napped a few hours?”
“Not even then.”
Seeing how unsteady he was on his feet, she offered, “How about a sponge bath instead?”
His eyes lit with an unholy gleam before it faded. “As intriguing as that sounds, I want a shower that lasts until I empty the hot water tanks. I need a shower because I’m tired of smelling myself.”
“You smell fresher than some patients who’ve walked through our doors,” she replied.
“Too bad. I know what I want and I want water. Gallons and gallons of it.”
“But you can hardly—”
His gaze was determined. “Trust me. I can and will do whatever I have to.”
She wanted him to be reasonable and take her advice, but if he’d found the fortitude to survive the jungle, he’d find the energy reserves to shower. However, as both his nurse and his wife, she’d watch to ensure he didn’t over-extend himself.
“You always were stubborn,” she remarked.
He nodded. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Well, hang tight while I see what I can arrange.”
After a short consultation in the hallway where she couldn’t speak privately to Jeff because Jane was part of their group, Leah wheeled Gabe to the nearby med-surg wing and into a patient room. She expected him to protest at the obvious implication, but he was too intent on his prize and didn’t.
While he brushed his teeth with the spare toiletry kit she’d commandeered from their supply cabinet, she located towels and soap so he could finally indulge in his much-wanted and much-needed shower in the wheelchair-accessible bathroom.
After removing his splint—the X-ray had shown the bones in his arm and shoulder weren’t broken—she covered his IV site with plastic so it wouldn’t get wet.
“I’ll be out here if you need me,” she told him. “Be careful with your leg and when you’re finished, I’ll dress it.”
While he hobbled into the shower, she turned down his bed and double-checked the medications that Jane had delivered. When she had everything in place except for her patient, she returned to the bathroom and stood in the doorway.
“How are you doing in there?” She raised her voice over the rushing water, noting he’d had at least a seven-minute shower.
“Fine.” A groan came from behind the curtain.
That didn’t sound good. Instantly worried, she straightened, ready to invade his privacy. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. God, this feels so good.”
The awe in his voice reminded her of other times when he’d said the same, under more intimate circumstances. She quickly stuffed those thoughts inside her mental box labeled “to be opened at a later date”. “I’m sure it does, but Jeff wants those antibiotics started ASAP.”
“Just a few more minutes.”
“The
