Moving into the room, he gave his eyes time to adjust to the dim light spilling in from the hallway. Scott had seen patients in pain, but her agony reached deep within him. Hearing Hannah sobbing knocked the breath out of him. It was killing him to stand behind professionally closed doors where she was concerned.
But if he did open that metaphorical door, would he be able to step through? Could he help her? Did he have the right to get involved so deeply in her life? What he did know with unshaking certainty was that he couldn’t walk away. He couldn’t make the same mistake twice. The consequences could be too great.
Coming toward her, Scott lowered his voice. “It’s Scott. Hannah, honey, Jake is fine. He had a reaction to the new med. He’s all right now.”
Her head rose enough that he could see her eyes over the ridge of her arm. The rest of her face remained covered.
“Go. Away.” The words were sharp and wrapped in pure misery. She turned her back to him and lowered her head again. “I don’t need you.”
Those words stung. Scott touched her and she flinched. He removed his hand. It wounded him that she wouldn’t accept his help. Was she really that untrusting of him? “He’s resting now, really.”
Scott sank into the chair beside hers. He’d dealt with parents besieged by strong feelings. It was part of his job, but Hannah’s pain reached deep to a spot he kept closed off. A place he shouldn’t go with the parent of a patient, especially not with her. Somewhere he wasn’t comfortable or confident in going.
Then again, his failure to recognize how distressed his mother had been when his parents had divorced had had disastrous results. He’d promised himself then to never let that happen again to someone he cared about. He wasn’t leaving Hannah, no matter what she said or how she acted. Her obvious pain went too deep to dismiss.
Hannah made a slight shift in her seat toward him, then said in a hard voice, “I don’t—want you here. Go away and leave me alone.”
She was in so much pain she was contradicting herself. He could resist a lot, but Hannah’s pain brought down the final wall. He had to do something, at least try.
A feeling of inadequacy washed over him. What could he say to make it better? Could he help her? Scott placed a hand on her shoulder, feeling the inflexible muscles. As if she were a troubled child, he began moving his hand in comforting circles along her back.
“Scott, stop.” She twisted her shoulders back and forth, but he refused to let her have her way. He may not have the correct words or be able to change the situation but he could hold her, be there to comfort her.
“Hannah, I’m not leaving.”
She stilled.
“Look, you’re a fighter. And if Jake is anything like you, he is too.”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. She stiffened and pushed against his chest. “Let me help you get through this.” His grip tightened and he tucked her head under his chin. Holding her as close as the chairs would allow, he said in a tender voice, “Let me be your friend. You need someone.”
She remained rigid, but he refused to ease his hold. Taking several halting breaths, she gave up the battle and relaxed against him.
Hannah’s distress was difficult to witness. He didn’t flinch when he opened a child’s chest or when making life-and-death decisions but he couldn’t stand seeing Hannah in so much pain. He wanted to make it go away, make it his own.
“Why won’t you leave me alone?” she murmured against his chest.
“You need to be held, and I’m going to do that. Cry all you want. I’ll be right here when you’re ready to talk.”
Having her in his arms went beyond wonderful, even with her crying and heartbroken. It felt right. He’d not only stepped over the invisible don’t-get-personally-involved line, he’d jumped. But he’d see to it remained one friend comforting another. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, let it become personal.
Holding her firmly against him, he made calm reassuring noises that made little sense. With his voice low, he spoke to her as if she were a hurt animal. After a few minutes she quieted. Pure satisfaction coursed through him like brandy on a cold night.
He placed a fleeting kiss to her forehead, which smelt like fresh apples. She still used the same shampoo. With his cheek resting against her hair, he took a deep breath, letting her scent fill him.
Neither spoke. Her breathing gradually became even and regular. The sensation of her body pressed against his made his thoughts travel back to what could have been. Was he taking advantage of her vulnerability? Yeah, but he still couldn’t resist resting his lips against her skin again.
Scott comprehended for the first time in his life what it meant to want to carry someone else’s burden. He longed to take Hannah’s hurt away. Fix her problems. Yet he could never be her knight. His duty to others would always be pulling him off the horse.
With a sigh of resignation, she completely relaxed against his chest. She had to be drained in both body and mind.
Having Hannah in his arms brought back memories of that night. Even then he couldn’t help but touch her, hold her. Now she needed to be held, desperately, and he was afraid that he needed the contact just as much. Everything about Hannah pushed his common sense away.
Heavens. She was being held by Scott. “Better?” he asked.
In a quick movement Hannah straightened and shifted back into her chair. She should’ve never let him touch her. Mercy, it had felt wonderful. She was so tired of being alone, carrying the load for Jake’s care. At least with Scott she had a partner until the transplant was done.
Under Scott’s scrutiny, she refused to meet his gaze. “I’ve never fallen apart like that before,” she muttered.
“Are you positive you’re okay?” He sounded as unsure as she felt.
“I’m better now,” she said, though her words lacked confidence. “You can go.”
“Have you eaten today?”
Why wouldn’t he leave her alone? She closed her eyes, then lifted them, looking through her lashes. “If I answer you, will you leave?” She didn’t want to have a reason to start caring for him again.
Scott said nothing but gave her a hard look.
“Okay, I had a bowl of cereal this morning. I was going to eat during shift change …” she sighed “ … but I just wasn’t hungry. Satisfied?” Where was the ever ever-present sound of his pager going off when she needed it?
He shook his head. “You’re one of the most intelligent women I know so I expected better from you. What did I tell you about taking care of yourself?”
“I heard you.”
“But you don’t plan to follow orders.” Cynicism wrapped his words.
She straightened her shoulders. “I don’t have to follow your orders. You’re Jake’s doctor, not mine.” At his chuckle, she realized he’d baited her on purpose to make her show some kind of animation.
“That
