style="font-size:15px;"> If he survived, he’d spend the next year in rehab all because someone hadn’t looked both ways. She read the cardiac monitor. His heart rate was fast, rhythm good.
“What do you need next, Doctor?” She hadn’t met any of the physicians yet, so she didn’t know who she was working with.
“Glad you’re here, Rebel. Call Radiology. Need a chest X-ray, abdominal films.” She knew the voice and a little bit of her relaxed, and a little of her got excited at the compliment. Although she couldn’t see his face behind the mask and goggles, she knew Duncan was in charge of this case. The sound of his voice was reassuring and made a funny squiggle in the pit of her stomach at the same time. The man had definitely made an impact on her senses yesterday.
“Got it.” She turned to the phone on the wall. Fortunately, there was an extensive phone list posted nearby. After the first call, she checked the monitor again. The heart rhythm had changed. Not looking good.
“Doctor. He’s had a rhythm change.”
Duncan twisted around and looked at it for himself. “Dammit. I was hoping we could get him to the OR before he crashed. Get a chest tube set up.”
She set the clipboard down. “Where are they?”
“There. One of the other nurses pointed to a cabinet right behind Duncan. Rebel squished her way through the bodies in the room to fetch the sterile tray, dropped it onto a portable tray table, opened it, and donned sterile gloves.
“I’m back.” The man who had given her the clipboard returned to take over.
“We’re putting a chest tube in on the left.” Rebel called out the information so he could catch up to where they were in the situation and record it. “Rhythm is V-tach. Rate one-eighty.” She prepared to assist Duncan with the procedure. Duncan removed his gloves, and she held out a new, sterile pair for him. A collapsed lung would be deadly along with all of his other injuries.
After insertion, blood poured through the tubing into the collection container and the heart monitor settled down. Rebel drew a deep breath. Yet another save before eight in the morning by a doctor she was coming to have confidence in very rapidly. “Good going, Doc.”
The only response was a connecting of glances and a nod. The tension of the code dwindled as the patient stabilized and was being prepared for transfer to the operating room for surgery.
“Rebel, right? What a name. I’m Hermano Vega, but call me Herm. I’m the charge nurse in this madhouse for today. You’re with me for orientation. The others can get him upstairs.”
Rebel shook his hand, liking his gentle, fatherly demeanor immediately. “Nice to meet you.”
“Quite the first day, no?” He echoed Duncan’s statement from earlier. “Come on. Let’s get you settled.” He turned and motioned for her to follow. Though she looked back as Duncan removed his protective gear, she went along with Herm. Somehow that man had gotten under her skin, and they’d only met yesterday.
“Great. What sort of torture do you have planned for me this morning?” There was always torture involved at the beginning of a new assignment.
Herm gave her a stern look over his glasses, and her gut twisted a little. Maybe she was being too flip too soon. Eek.
“The evil policy and procedure manual.”
Rebel relaxed. Yep. This was going to be just like every other ER she’d worked in. Torture with orientation material then release her to the wild.
“You’ve got the expedited orientation training to go through for travelers. Fire safety, infection control, HIPPA, etcetera. All online now. I’ll set you up with a computer terminal then we can talk about your schedule.” Schedule. The most important thing to keep staff happy. Aside from payday. And good coffee.
“Got it.” She looked around the station. “Is there by chance a cup of coffee somewhere I could snag first?”
“Oh, sure.” He gave a nod down the hall. “Grab what you need, then back here for the mind-meld the rest of the day. If you get it all done today, you can go home early.”
“Awesome.”
Rebel wandered down the hall to the staff-only area and the crazed energy of the main unit eased a bit until she opened the door to the small lounge. Then her heart fluttered when she saw Duncan in his blue scrubs, coffee in hand, leaning against the counter.
His eyes were closed, and he seemed lost in his thoughts. She paused a moment, uncertain whether or not to disturb him, but the smell of coffee called to her.
“Come in. I know someone’s there. I’m just perfecting my sleeping while standing up technique.”
With a little smile, Rebel entered the lounge. “I thought that’s what you were doing. Maybe you can give me some pointers for the next time I work a stretch of night shifts.”
Duncan opened his eyes a little, glad to hear her voice free of tension. Obviously she’d been able to let the stress of yesterday go. That was a good thing. Today she looked as gorgeous as she had yesterday. But her hair was up in a clip with little strands handing down to tease her face. He had to resist the urge to push some of that mass back behind her ear. Those weren’t the kinds of thoughts he should be having about a new coworker, but he seemed powerless to resist. He cleared his throat. “Not scared off after yesterday and walking into that trauma today?”
“Nope. You?”
“Nah.” His smile was self-deprecating. “I grew up with four sisters, four brothers and twenty-five cousins. I saw more trauma and drama than you’d guess by the time I was twelve.”
“I see. That’s a huge family.” Indeed. Hers had dwindled down to just her mother and herself, with a few cousins in the Mid-West somewhere.
“I’m guessing you didn’t come in here to chat, but need some liquid fortitude to get through the rest of the day Herm has planned for you.” He raised his coffee cup toward her.
“Psychic, too.” She nodded. “I’m impressed by your extensive set of unusual skills.”
Playful and flirtatious, she appealed to his lighter side. Duncan shoved away from the counter and poured her a cup of coffee, then handed it to her. “Additives are over there.” He indicated the powdered creamer and sweetener selection on the counter.
“Sorry, I’m a creamer snob.” She pulled out her own stash of flavored creamer and added it to the mug.
“Good to know.” He grinned.
Rebel noticed that Duncan watched her intently as she prepared her coffee. She wasn’t accustomed to such attention and she was a little uncomfortable with it. She’d spent years avoiding the intimacy of relationships, apart from a very occasional and very brief fling. Right now she wasn’t certain whether she was appreciative of, or offended by, Duncan’s focus.
The silence that hung between them went on for a few seconds too long as she ran out of things to say. Her charm only lasted so long.
“Well, I’d better go before Herm thinks I’ve run off.” She raised her mug. “Thanks.” Dropping her
