which would be her first duty. She had to check each of the clipboards that hung on the ends of the beds, noting any physician directions regarding IVs, medication, shots and such.
Susan struggled to keep her professional demeanor, so Randy wouldn’t see her alarm. “Oh?” she said coolly. “What seems to be the captain’s problem?”
“Ah, you know how recons are. They’re like family. The captain’s needing a pain med, I think. He wants to know how two of his men are doing. I told him I’d go get the duty nurse and find out what I could.” With a shrug, Randy asked, “You’re new to all of this, Miss Evans, but don’t look too upset. The captain is tight with his men. At least he cares about them.”
“How long have you been here, Randy?” Susan asked as she draped a stethoscope across her neck so both ends hung down the front of her white uniform. Sooner or later she’d have to see Craig. She might as well get it over with now. But the decision didn’t stop her heart from pounding in her chest, or help her feel less shaky.
“Two and a half years, ma’am. I was a corpsman out in the field with the marines until I got my foot broke,” Randy said, pointing to his left shoe. “I want to go back out, but Doc Finlay says I’ll never be a field corpsman again ’cause of my injury.”
“That’s too bad, Randy. You look like the kind of guy who enjoys the great outdoors.”
“I sure do, ma’am.” His eyes twinkled.
“Why don’t you show me the routine,” Susan said. When she saw the corpsman’s brows move up in surprise, she added, “We’re a team here, Randy. I’m going to rely heavily on the corpsmen assigned to my ward for some time, until I get used to the system. The patients’ welfare comes first, so consider yourself my teacher. Okay?”
Randy’s shoulders squared a bit more proudly, and he pushed open the swinging door to the dimly lit ward. “Why, Miss Evans, you’re talking just like a recon. Are you sure Captain Taggart hasn’t brainwashed you into being one?” He chuckled pleasantly.
Susan smiled and tried not to let the young corpsman’s comment rattle her. What Randy didn’t know was that she and Craig did, indeed, share the same passionate commitment to people. Only, in Craig’s case, the overriding concern he brought to his men had been fueled by a terrible accident that had occurred in his childhood. Craig was the older of two Taggart sons. When he was fourteen, he’d been ice-skating with his younger brother, David, on the fishing pond when David had fallen through the ice. Despite Craig’s brave attempts to save his brother, David had drowned. The guilt of being unable to save him had spurred Craig to become protective of those under his command, regardless of the risk or suffering to himself. Susan had seen that quality back at Annapolis, and she was sure Craig hadn’t changed in that respect.
She stopped just inside the door to the ward, where two rows of ten beds faced each other. Susan was glad to see that the windows were open to allow air circulation. Otherwise, the ward would be stuffy and the antiseptic odors could become overwhelming. Red lights above the doors at either end shed precious little light through the sleeping ward. Allowing her vision to adjust, Susan swept her gaze automatically across her sleeping patients.
Randy pointed to the end of the first row of beds on the right. Near her ear, he whispered, “That’s Cap’n Taggart. Maybe you want to start your bed check there? He’s fit to be tied. You probably better give him a sleep med.” Randy grinned. “I think if it weren’t for that leg wound he’s got, he’d get up and go back to ER and demand to know about his men.”
Susan’s heart went out to Craig. “Okay, Randy, I’ll start there. In the meantime, will you check the other patients’ IVs, and if any need to be changed to do it for me?”
“Yes, ma’am, I’d be happy to.”
Girding herself emotionally the best she could, Susan walked slowly down the tile floor of the aisle between the beds. She gripped the clipboard to her breast more as armor against the coming attack than as the tool it was for taking notes on each patient, to be discussed later with the watch doctor. Her hands became damp with nervousness as her gaze fastened on the bed where Craig moved restlessly.
As Susan approached, she saw that he had kicked his light blue bedspread onto the floor, and his sheet was in a tangle at the end of the cot. Like all the patients, Craig wore light blue cotton pajamas.
Susan looked at him, taking in his arm thrown across his eyes, his compressed mouth, the sweat gleaming on his face, and she realized that his pajama top was unbuttoned, exposing his chest. Swallowing convulsively, she remembered placing her hand on that chest, aware of the taut muscles beneath his shirt. But that had been so long ago—a lifetime, it seemed. Still, as she slowed, the memory of Craig’s masculine power seeped back into her memory. Toward the end of their Annapolis days, her relationship with Steve hadn’t been going well, and she’d confided in Craig. Upset and uncertain, she had cried in Craig’s arms over what to do. Two days later, Craig had showed up at her apartment, roses in hand. By that time, Susan had been sure that she was going to break up with Steve, and she’d told Craig her decision. The roses had been such a touching surprise, because she’d known just how little money Craig had. On sheer impulse, she’d leaned up to give him a thank-you kiss for his concern. Only the kiss had turned unexpectedly passionate—for both of them. Shaken by the memory, Susan thought of the thread of hope that experience had given her. She’d never forgotten Craig’s latent strength, vividly recalling how his body tautened as she shyly returned his heated, hungry kiss. A sadness enveloped her now as she came around the side of his bed. They had both been so innocent.
Well, those days were behind them, Susan acknowledged, feeling tears rise in her eyes. Then, Craig had treated her as if she were some priceless, fragile object, never forgetting his manners or trying to take advantage of her. She looked down at his shadowed form, her gaze moving to his mouth, tensed against his pain, and she fought the very real desire to put her arms around him and hold him.
“Craig?” Her voice came out low and hesitant.
Instantly, Craig jerked his arm from across his eyes. His gaze narrowed. Susan! His heart slamming in his chest, he opened his mouth, then snapped it shut as fury tunneled through him. She stood uncertainly before him, her white nursing uniform flattering her slim figure. Her brown hair hung in a simple pageboy, barely grazing her collar. The shadows caressed her square features, sad eyes and parted lips. He sensed her uncertainty, and it fueled his impatience.
Wrestling with his anger, he let his voice become hard and flat. “What are you doing here?”
Stunned all over again by his fury, Susan felt her own anger flowing to the surface, but her tone was low and controlled as she said, “I’m duty nurse for the ward tonight.” She tried to ignore the accusation in his husky voice, the anger bright in his eyes. Attempting a smile to break the terrible tension, but not succeeding, she added, “You’re stuck with me, whether either of us likes it or not.”
Craig tried to make himself immune to Susan’s presence, but it was impossible. Just that small, broken smile she had tried to give him was nearly his undoing. He saw her lay her clipboard on a nearby chair. Then she picked up his sheet and smoothed it across him. The blue bedspread followed. A wild mix of emotions raged through him as he watched her study his chart at the end of the bed. Didn’t she know what she was doing to him? Automatically, his gaze moved to her long, slender hands. They were beautiful, artistic hands, Craig realized with a pang of memory, and he thought of her long-ago feather-light touch on his face, on his chest.
She was nervous. Craig saw the stain of a blush on her cheeks as she moved quietly to the other side of his bed to check the IV drip rate.
