were to come on to him, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to turn her down as easily as he had Rachel.
Hailey eagerly transferred her patient up to the medical ICU, thankful for the momentary reprieve from being stuck in close proximity to Simon.
She’d tried to get out of working in the trauma bay for her shift but Theresa, the ED manager, hadn’t given her a choice. The two trauma-trained nurses had both called in sick, leaving her to pick up the trauma shift.
Another reason she’d left Trinity Medical Center had been because she’d lost the thrill of working in a level-one trauma center. She liked ED nursing overall, but had told Theresa there was no rush in getting cross-trained to trauma. Hailey had planned on settling in for at least another few months before having to face her first shift there.
Guess not.
She could do it, she told herself for the fifth time. Of course, having Simon on duty with her served as a distraction from her past.
She didn’t linger upstairs, as much as she wanted to, but hurried back down to the trauma bay, knowing another patient could arrive at any moment. Besides, there were still a few patients in team one to follow up on.
Her trauma pager remained silent, though, so when she returned to the department, she left the tech, a new woman named Bonnie, to clean up and restock the trauma bay while she headed back over to team one.
She double-checked on the patient they were treating for flu. The poor woman had thrown up right after getting settled into her room, just missing Hailey’s feet. Hailey glanced up at the IV bag, satisfied to see it was nearly empty. “How are you feeling, Christy?” she asked the young college student.
“Better,” the girl murmured with a wan smile. “At least I don’t feel as much like I’m going to throw up.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Hailey said in a light, teasing tone. “Good to know my shoes are safe. Let’s have you try to eat something, hmm? I’ll get you some crackers and white soda.”
Christy wrinkled her nose and put a hand over her stomach. “Do I really have to?”
Hailey nodded. “If you can keep the crackers and soda down, I’ll get Dr. Carter … er … Simon to discharge you.”
“Dr. Dreamy’s name is Simon?” Christy asked with a heavy sigh, running her fingers through her limp brown hair. “He’s not wearing a wedding ring. Does that mean he’s single?”
She chuckled and shook her head. “I’m not answering that, you’ll have to ask him yourself.” She left the room to get the promised crackers and soda, returning in less than a minute. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” The girl’s eyes brightened despite her pasty complexion and Hailey wasn’t surprised when she heard Simon enter the room behind her. “Hi, Dr. Simon. I’m feeling much better after that IV you gave me.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Simon responded, his deep voice sending a shiver down Hailey’s spine. She didn’t so much as glance at him, concentrating on disconnecting the IV tubing from the pump. “Looks like you’re well enough to leave, Christy.”
Leave? Hailey tossed the bag and tubing in the garbage and turned toward him. “I told Christy she had to eat the crackers and drink the soda first, to make sure everything stays in her stomach.”
There was a slight hesitation before he gave a brief nod. “Good. I’ll get the discharge orders started.”
After Simon left, the young woman let out another sigh. “Maybe I should throw up again, just so I can stay longer.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Hailey said dryly. “A better plan would be to get healthy, and then come back to visit when you look smashing. Doctors aren’t overly impressed with sickly patients.”
“Good idea,” Christy said, with such enthusiasm Hailey knew the girl was starting to feel better.
Barely three seconds after Christy Drummel had been safely discharged, Hailey’s trauma pager went off.
She read the text message with a sinking heart.
Male victim, MVC, pulse 130, BP 80/40, long extrication, suspected chest injuries. ETA three minutes.
“Hailey?” she glanced up when Simon called her name. “We have a trauma on the way. Are you ready?”
No. She wasn’t ready. But she nodded anyway, praying she wouldn’t throw up the way Christy had. “Of course.”
Hailey finished with her other patient’s labs and then took her place in the trauma bay as the paramedics wheeled in the new arrival. The patient was a young seventeen-year-old male, who’d run his stolen car into a tree while being chased by the police.
He’d been wedged inside the car, to the point where it had taken the firemen over forty-five minutes to get him out.
The first glance at his pale and lifeless face made her blood run cold.
Not Andrew.
She kept the mantra running in the back of her mind as she concentrated on getting the new patient connected to the heart monitor. His vital signs were dangerously low.
The monitor began alarming. “I’m losing his blood pressure,” she said sharply, with a worried glance at Simon.
Simon looked up at the monitor, his expression grim. “PEA. Probably a hemothorax with his crushing chest injuries. I need a chest tube.”
Hailey grabbed the chest tube tray at the same time Bonnie, the ICU tech, did. Bonnie stared at her for a moment, and Hailey readily let go, realizing setting up and assisting with the chest tube was something useful the tech could do.
She vaguely heard Simon give Bonnie instructions on prepping the guy’s chest. She hung IV fluids and performed a quick assessment, noticing the young man’s abdomen was taut.
Their patient rebounded as soon as Simon placed the chest tube. Bright red blood came pouring out, though.
“Call Kane Ryerson,” Simon said to Bonnie. “This guy needs the OR.”
Bonnie headed for the nearest phone, but almost immediately the patient’s blood pressure bottomed out again.
“He’s bleeding into his abdomen,” Hailey said, watching in horror as the patient’s belly grew larger right before her eyes. “Simon? Do you see his belly?”
“Yeah. We’re going to have to open him up here.” Simon didn’t look very happy with the prospect.
She tugged the peritoneal lavage tray from the bedside, but before Simon could get the guy’s abdomen opened, his heart rate slowed and then stopped.
“No!” Hailey shouted, unwilling to believe they were going to lose him. She climbed up on a stool to start chest compressions. One and two and three and four and five. Breathe. One and two and three and four and five. Breathe.
We’re not going to lose him. We’re not. We’re not …
“Hailey!”
