One Night in Buenos Aires. Sarah Morgan
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EMERGENCY NURSE Emily Hoover pointed the way to the trauma room as an air-ambulance crew surged through the department. She’d heard the radio announcing the arrival of the rescue chopper as it had landed on the roof and had even smelled the diesel exhaust through the HIPPA air-filtration system that was supposed to remove it.
Those were all expected, anticipated and not uncommon events in a hospital close to a major highway. Where there was trauma there was a busy ER and one of the reasons she’d come back here to her hometown. Reclaiming her life was the first reason. Working great trauma was the second. At least that was what she told herself as the crew swept past her.
What she hadn’t expected to see was an emergency surgeon riding atop the gurney, straddling the patient, both of them covered in blood. Her limbs began to tremble and sweat popped out on her back. Oh, man. The heartbeat she usually kept calm with meditation now raced uncontrollably in her chest as she recognized the man behind the dirty scrubs. He’d aged little in three years and was as handsome as ever. A tightness in her abdomen surged to join the erratic heartbeat. Fierce intensity showed on his face and confidence she’d never seen in him before. His hair, dark brown with a tendency to curl, was a mess. Those intense blue eyes blazed with a fire she’d never forgotten despite three years of separation.
“Get three units of whole blood going now. I need a central line placed and get OR on alert.” Trauma surgeon and emergency doctor Chase Montgomery gave orders as the entourage rolled through the door. Staff scrambled to the first trauma room that had been set up for the arrival of this patient.
Emily choked down her anxiety, shoving it aside in the face of a true emergency, and grabbed the cardiac leads, placed them on the patient so his heart could be monitored and placed the blood-pressure cuff on the only arm he had left. The trembling in her hands was likely not noticeable to the others, but to her it was. This wasn’t who she was, a nervous nurse on the first day of work. Like there weren’t ten years under her belt already. But this place. This man. Those were the things that made her tremble now. Thoughts of how they’d been together in the past made her quake.
“Get anesthesia in here. He has to be intubated now.”
“There was just an overhead page, Chase. They’ve been called to a code on the floor.” Liz, the charge nurse, supplied the answer, but picked up the phone on the wall. “I’ll see if there’s someone else who can help out.”
“Page any surgeon overhead. I’ll intubate, and someone else can do the IV placement. We need a central line right away.”
“Got it.” Liz made the call.
“IV set-up tray is ready, Doctor, but if you’d prefer to intubate first, I’ll get that one ready.” Though keeping her focus on the patient, Emily spoke in the direction of the doctor leading the situation. He stood with his back to her and was in the process of removing his lab coat when he froze.
Then spun.
Clearly astonished at her presence, he stared at her with his mouth open for a few seconds as he tried to force his mind to accept what his eyes were seeing.
Emily’s stomach tightened again; her heart beat as erratically as the patient’s. Chase had never looked better, and her heart was out of control. A look of stunned shock crossed his face for a second or two. His eyes opened wide, his jaw dropped and he jumped as if he’d been pinched. Only a few seconds of lapsed control, but she saw it, felt it in her chest. The depth of pain mixed with his surprise at seeing her would be etched in her mind forever. She’d done that to him. She’d caused the hurt he’d momentarily betrayed. Except for the shock on his face, he hadn’t changed in the three years since they’d broken up. Since she’d walked away from him.
“Emily?” He took a halting step toward her then stopped. “What are you doing here?” His blue gaze raked her from top to toe as if his brain still couldn’t comprehend what his eyes were telling him. “What happened to your hair?”
Before she could answer, what seemed like an army of people burst into the room and the focus returned to the critical patient in front of them. This was apparently the entire team of surgeons, from the senior fellow down to the first-year resident. At a teaching hospital staff seemed to move in large herds.
“Who called for a surgeon? We’re here.”
As the physician in charge, Chase forced his focus from Emily to the surgeon. “We need better IV access immediately. Can one of you put in a central line? Anesthesia’s tied up, and I’ll have to intubate.” Chase whipped off the bloody lab coat he’d worn to the crash site and threw it into a corner of the room.
The most senior member of the group emerged and nodded to Chase. “Sure thing.” He removed his lab coat and handed it to a student to hold.
“I’ll assist, Doctor.” Emily made the offer so she would be away from Chase’s penetrating glare and the waves of hostile energy flowing off him to flood the room. There was enough tension in the room already without adding more fuel to the fire she’d not been prepared for. Even though she’d known it would come, she wasn’t prepared for it on the first day. “I’ve got the tray ready.”
“Okay. Great. I thought this was going to be something difficult,” he said with a grin, and winked at Emily. Emily never knew whether to be relieved at the confidence of surgeons or shocked at their outrageous arrogance. “Hey, don’t I know you? Didn’t you work here a while back?” He, too, frowned, trying to make sense of his memory in the present situation.
“Yes, I did. Came back for more. Over here, Dr. Blaze.” Emily motioned him to the opposite side of the patient, and he moved around to where she stood. Relief overwhelmed her that he only remembered her from being an employee, not the rest. Or, if he did, he had the good graces not to say anything.
“Dr. Blaze. Ha! I haven’t been called that in years.”
“I remember with you everything was an emergency, wasn’t it? You flashed through rounds like your tail was on fire.” Emily smiled and her peripheral vision caught the glare Chase threw her way.
“Oh, those were the days.” He shook his head at the memory. “So what happened? He’s missing an arm.” He looked to Chase for answers.
“Trauma. Pinned under his truck. Had to amputate in the field.” Chase supplied the information, reinforcing one of the highest rules in trauma care: a limb for a life. Focus. That was what he needed right now—focus. Nothing mattered right now except saving this man’s life. That was why he was there.
It didn’t matter that he’d just had a bomb go off in the form of his ex-girlfriend appearing right in front of him in the middle of a trauma. He had to focus right now and ignore the kick in his pulse and the pain in his heart. He continued speaking to the surgeon, though he focused on aligning the patient’s head in the correct position for putting in the airway tube.
“Once he’s stable you can take him to OR and clean the arm up. It was pretty quick and dirty out there.” As an emergency surgeon, he was called on to perform such procedures as well as his normal shifts in the ER.
Though he would sound like he was in control to the others, Emily heard the tension in his voice, noticed the hardness in his eyes and the twitch of a muscle in his jaw. Always had been giveaways to his mood. He was brittle, and her shoulders tensed, waiting for him to snap. At her. She deserved it for not warning him she was going to be working with him