a deep breath, she slowly released it. She needed to think. Put things in some order in her mind.
Jake. Heart transplant. Waiting. Cost. Die. Scott. The words ping-ponged off the walls of her mind.
CHAPTER TWO
SCOTT peered over the unit desk toward Hannah, who sat at her son’s bed. Her head had fallen to one side against the back cushion of the chair. Even with the burden of worry showing on her features, she caught and held his attention. Her chestnut-colored hair brushed the tops of her shoulders and hung forward, curtaining one cheek. If he’d been standing closer, he would’ve pushed it back.
Puffy eyes and stricken looks were so much a part of his profession that he had become impervious to them, but telling Hannah about Jake’s heart condition had been the toughest thing he’d ever done. She was no longer the impressionable nursing student he’d once known. Hannah was now a mother warrior fighting for her child. He believed her strength and spirit would see her through.
She’d made it clear that their only association would be a professional one. He could be there for her as a friend, for old times’ sake. The only sensible choice was to keep their relationship a professional one. Being involved with a parent on a personal level was a huge ethical no-no anyway. Lawyers didn’t represent family members, and surgeons didn’t treat loved ones, or, in his case, family.
Hannah shifted in the chair and shoved her tresses out of her face. She looked tired, worn and dejected. She stirred, causing her hair to fall further across her face. With effort, Scott resisted the urge to go to her, take her in his arms and whisper that everything would be all right. She’d always brought out the protective side of him. She’d never believe it but he’d left her that morning all those years ago in order to protect her. Even then medicine had been his all-consuming focus. He’d gotten that trait from his father.
As a small-town doctor, his father had been on call day and night. Scott had watched him leave the supper table numerous times to see a sick child after eating only one forkful of food. More than once Scott had heard him return to the house in the early hours of the morning after seeing a patient. Their family had even returned early from a vacation because an elderly woman his father had been treating had taken a turn for the worse and was asking for him. Scott had never once heard his father complain. All Scott had ever wanted was to be like his father. He had thought he was the finest doctor he’d ever known.
Hannah woke with a start, blinking fast. Daylight had turned to darkness outside the window but the fluorescent lighting made it bright in the room. She straightened. “Mommy.”
She hopped up and went to Jake’s bedside.
“Hi, sweetheart. We both had a little nap.” She brushed his hair back from his forehead. “How you doing?” She kissed him.
The nurse pushed medicine into the port of the IV located at the side of Jake’s tiny wrist. Giving the IV set-up a critical look, Hannah realized old habits did die hard. She still wished she could take a more active role in Jake’s care. As long as he was in CICU she had to remain on the sideline.
“Would you like to hold him for a while?” the nurse asked as she punched buttons on the IV pump and it responded with small beeps.
Moisture filled her eyes. “Could I, please?”
“Sure. You have a seat in the chair and I’ll help you get him situated.”
After a little maneuvering of IV lines and moving of machines, Hannah had Jake in her arms. It was pure heaven.
“Go home,” Jake mumbled as he settled against her.
“I wish we could, but hopefully you won’t be here long.”
She looked over Jake’s head at the nurse as he played with his toy bear.
The nurse spoke softly, “You know, Mrs. Quinn, I’ve seen some very sick kids come through here who are doing great after having a transplant.”
The words reassured Hannah somewhat. At least she was getting to hold him. That more than satisfied her for the time being.
“If you don’t mind, while he’s sitting with you I’m going to step over to the next bed and help another nurse with her patient. Will you be okay?”
“Sure.” Hannah’s gaze shifted to Jake again. He looked like a small cherub. His lips were getting bluer, though. She had to admit Scott was right. Jake needed a heart. Soon.
She put her cheek against Jake’s. “I love you.”
“I luv ‘oo.”
Moisture filled her eyes. Loving … was … hard.
Her head jerked up at the sharp insistent beeps of the monitor that turned into an alarm. Staff rushed into Jake’s cubicle. Scott came with them. “Hannah, let me have Jake.” Scott took Jake from her and laid him on the bed, all the while issuing orders.
Hannah stepped to the bed. Her hands gripped the rail. “What’s wrong?” she whispered, fear coiling in her middle.
Scott looked at her as he listened to Jake’s chest. “Hannah, you need to leave.” His authoritarian tone told her he’d accept no argument. His attention immediately returned to Jake.
She was a nurse, Jake was her son. She could help.
But as much as she wanted to stay, Hannah knew he was right. She’d been involved in enough emergencies to know that the fewer people around the bed the better. If she wasn’t allowed to assist then she would be in the way. Slowly, she stepped back.
Scott’s gaze caught hers. “I’ll be out to talk to you when Jake is stable.”
Hannah walked toward the doors but took one final look over her shoulder as she left the unit. Jake’s bed was no longer visible because of the number of people surrounding it.
Finding one of the small conference rooms off the hallway empty and dark, she stepped inside, not bothering with the light. Her eyes ached from the dry air and the bright lights. She dropped onto one of the chairs situated as far from the door as possible.
Unable to control her anguish any longer, Hannah’s dam broke and her soft crying turned into sobs.
Now that Jake was resting comfortably, Scott needed to find Hannah. He paused in the hall.
What was that sound? There it was again. It was coming from the consultation room. He stepped closer to the entrance. Dark inside, no one should be in there. Was that someone crying?
He couldn’t ignore it. In a hospital it wasn’t unusual to hear crying, but this sounded like someone in physical pain.
With tentative steps, he entered the room. “Hello?” A muffled sob filled the space. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Please go away.” The words were little more than a whisper coming from the corner, followed by a sniff.
Even when it was full of sorrow, he recognized her voice. Hannah. The stricken look on her face when he’d ordered her to leave still troubled him. He’d been surprised she hadn’t put up more of a fight.
