the infant chest compressions and oxygen before rubbing him all over to stimulate him. Surreal that, at the very same time, Sean and the team were insistently working on the baby’s mother in nearly the same way.
It seemed to go on so long with no response at all from the tiny boy, she started to lose hope. She glanced up at Sean, who was still doing strong, unrelenting chest compressions on his sister. Emma’s heart rate had dropped to barely a blip on the screen. But Sean was still determined. Still believing.
Losing both of them would take a terrible toll on the man so close and connected to his family. Hadn’t they already lost the father they’d dearly loved? She tried to swallow down the deep pain choking her when she thought she heard a weak cry that sent her attention flying to the NICU team and the baby. Her heart lifted, soared, when his cries strengthened. His deep purple color lightened and slowly pinked up.
Her gaze moved back to Sean, who was looking at the baby while still performing steady chest compressions. Awe slid across his face, mingling with that fierceness as their eyes met. Her throat closed when, even in the midst of his intense work trying to resuscitate Emma, he gave Bree a quick, nodding salute.
Bittersweet emotion tangled around her heart as the team placed the infant in the warming cart and took off with him, doubtless heading to the NICU to be stabilized and evaluated. Tears stung Bree’s eyes as they met Sean’s, and she prayed again that the baby would be okay. That Emma would still, somehow, survive. That she’d be here to hold her infant son in her arms.
* * *
Seeing Bree’s beautiful green eyes fill with tears made Sean somehow even more determined to save his sister’s life. As though he weren’t already giving it everything he had in him to make that happen.
His mother had already been through too much tragedy. And if Emma died? He knew that blow would practically kill his mom, too. And not only did Emma have a lot of living yet to do and a child to raise, he was not going to have Bree feeling some kind of lifelong guilt because the two of them had obviously been in that car crash together. Most likely she’d been driving, but she was so good behind the wheel, he knew it couldn’t have been her fault.
For all those reasons, his sister was going to live. That was all there was to it.
“Sean.” Kurz reached to touch his shoulder, and he knew what was coming. “I’ll take over.”
“No. Keep up with the epinephrine and blood transfusion for another minute. I’m not being crazy. I’m going to make this happen. She—”
“Sean.” Bree’s tone of voice was completely different than Kurz’s had been. Held a tentative, then rising excitement. “Sean, you did it! Heart rate’s...heart rate is rising to...eighty!”
He glanced at the monitor. What he saw there nearly made him fall over, as though he could feel the world slowly turning on its axis. Emma’s heart was in normal sinus rhythm, etched on the screen in steady, perfect, neon green spikes. For real.
His whole body started to shake. “Notify the other surgeon on call and any GYN available,” he somehow managed to croak out. “Get her to the OR to figure out what all’s going on.”
Everyone moved into action. Sean stood there motionless, because at that moment moving a single muscle felt impossible. He watched them roll his sister from the room, the terrifying details of her bruised and battered body seared into his brain. He looked down at his hands, Emma’s blood still covering them from when he’d inserted the tube, and didn’t want to think about how close he’d come to losing her.
How he still might.
Somehow, he moved toward the sink, feeling as if every bit of support in his legs had disappeared. Kurz must have realized he didn’t feel like talking. Just clasped his shoulder in a tight grip for a lingering moment before he left the room. A smaller hand pressed against his back, and he didn’t have to turn to know it was Bree.
For a lot of reasons, he didn’t want to talk to her, either. The adrenaline—and, yes, the terror—of the past twenty minutes was leaching from his body pretty fast, leaving behind a mental and emotional shakiness and upheaval he didn’t want to admit to, or show, to anyone. Least of all her, the woman who’d left him with plenty of the same kinds of disturbing feelings to deal with for the past six months.
“Tough day,” Bree whispered.
Tough? The way she said the word had him realizing how tough it must have been for her, too. In the middle of the crisis, he hadn’t been able to process that. Tough to be in what must have been one horrific crash. Tough to go through whatever had happened at the scene after. Tough to see Emma code, and, despite all that, step up and help bring her baby into the world without a second of hesitation.
Iciness crept through his veins as the full reality hit him in the gut, knocking what wind he had left right out again. Bree had been in that car, too. Tough? The word didn’t exist that could describe how he’d have felt if Bree had been seriously injured in that accident as well. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t a part of his life anymore. Then as soon as that thought came, he knew that was only partly true.
It mattered because she’d be a part of him forever.
He turned, and her soft hand moved to his arm. He rested his palm on top of it, and that simple connection somehow soothed the raw chaos burning in his chest.
“Even tougher day for you, I’m guessing. You okay?”
“Okay. I’m...I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry?” Was she blaming herself after all?
“I was driving. It technically wasn’t my fault, but...you know. I have to wonder if I could have prevented it somehow.”
“No, you don’t. Because I’m not wondering, and I’m sure Emma isn’t either. You may be a hellion on wheels, but you’re a damned good hellion. Always beyond alert behind the wheel, and I’ve never once seen you cross the safety line.”
“Thank you. I think.” A tiny, wobbly smile touched her lips, despite the tears swimming in her eyes. “Obviously, we both know Emma’s not out of the woods yet. But she sure showed she’s one resilient woman, didn’t she?”
“Yeah.” They hadn’t even learned, yet, the full extent of her injuries. Who knew what it would take for her to recover? “But somehow, I know she’s going to be all right. Even if that sounds stupid.” Maybe it was some mysterious, brother/sister connection, but from the second he’d tried to bring her back, he’d known it wasn’t over. Known with utter certainty that he’d get to see her again. A little like he’d known when their dad had finally given in to the cancer he’d fought for so long.
“Doesn’t sound stupid. I may not have a sibling, but I’ve heard plenty of stories. There seems to be some sort of ESP about one another.” The green eyes staring into his were deeply serious. Questioning. Hopeful. “I don’t suppose that ESP extends to the baby?”
“No gut feeling about the baby, unfortunately.” A baby he’d been upset with Emma about, wondering how his little sister had gotten herself pregnant without a husband, and even angrier that she stubbornly refused to say who the father was. But the deep, wrenching grief he’d felt when he’d first seen the baby, blue and seemingly lifeless in Bree’s remarkably steady hands when she’d delivered him, had made him realize with a shock that he already felt a connection to the little guy in spite of all that.
