Taming Her Navy Doc. Amy Ruttan
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His eyes opened—those brilliant blue eyes. “What happened?”
“You had a bacterial infection. Your leg couldn’t be saved.”
He frowned, visibly upset, and tried to get up, but Erica held him down.
“Let me go!” He cursed a few choice words. “I told you not to take it. You lied to me. You lied to me, Liam! Why the heck did you do that? I’m not worth it. Damn it, let me out of here.”
Erica reached over and hit a buzzer as she threw as much of her weight on him as possible, trying to keep him calm as a nurse ran over with a sedative.
It was then he began to cry softly and her heart wrenched.
“I’m so sorry.”
“It was your life, Liam. My life … I have nothing else. You left me. We promised to stay together. I need my leg to do that.”
Erica didn’t know who Liam was, but she got off of him as he stopped fighting back. “I’m sorry.” She took his hand once more. “I’m so very sorry.”
He nodded as the drugs began to take effect. “You’re so beautiful.”
The words caught her off guard. “I’m sorry?”
“Beautiful. Like an angel.” And then he said no more as he drifted off to sleep.
Erica sighed again and left his bedside. She had to keep this man here. He couldn’t go off with his unit.
He needed to recuperate, to get used to the idea that his leg was gone and understand why. He was a medic; he’d understand when he was lucid and she could explain medically why she’d taken his leg.
Pain made people think irrationally. She was sure that was why her father had gone AWOL during a covert mission, endangering everyone. That was why he had come home broken and that was why he’d eventually taken his own life.
“Watch out, she’s going to go AWOL like her father!”
The taunts and jeers made her stomach twist.
Block them out. Block them out.
“You need to get some sleep, Commander Griffin. You’ve been up for over thirty hours,” Nurse Regina said as she wrote the dosage in the patient’s chart. “Seriously, you look terrible.”
Erica rolled her eyes at her friend and bunk mate before yawning. “Yeah, I think you’re right. Do you know where Captain Dayton is?”
“He’s in surgery now the ship isn’t on silent running,” Regina remarked. “Is it urgent?”
“Yeah, when he’s out could you send him to my berth? I need to discuss this patient’s file with him.”
“Of course, Commander Griffin.”
Erica nodded and headed off to find her bunk.
She was going to fight that man’s unit to keep him on the hospital ship so he could get the help he needed.
There was no way any covert operation was going to get around her orders. Not this time. Not when this man’s life was on the line.
He deserved all the help she could give him.
The man had lost a leg in service to his country. It would take both physical and mental healing.
He’d paid his price and Erica was damn well going to make sure he was taken care of.
Five years later, Okinawa Prefecture, Japan
“CAPTAIN WILDER WILL see you now, Commander Griffin.”
Erica stood and straightened her dress uniform. She’d only landed in Okinawa five hours ago on a Navy transport and she was still suffering from jet lag. She’d flown from San Diego after getting her reassignment from the USNV Hope to a naval base hospital.
Another step in her career she was looking forward to, and the fact that it was in Japan had her extremely excited.
It was another amazing opportunity and one she planned to make the most of. Hopefully soon she’d get a promotion in rank but, given her track record, it seemed like she had to fight for every promotion or commendation she deserved.
It’s worth it. Each fight just proves you can do it. You’re strong.
Captain Dayton taking a disgraced young medical officer under his wing and letting her serve for seven years on the Hope was helping her put the past to rest.
Helping her forget her foolish mistake, her one dumb moment of weakness.
Erica followed the secretary into the office.
Dr. Thorne Wilder was the commanding officer of the general surgery wing of the naval hospital. They wouldn’t see as much action as they’d see in a field hospital, or on a medical ship, but she’d be caring for the needs of everyone on base.
Appendectomies, gall bladder removals, colectomies—whatever needed to be done, Erica was going to rise to the challenge.
Dr. Wilder had requested her specifically when she’d put in for reassignment to a Naval hospital. She’d expected some downtime in San Diego while she waited, but that hadn’t happened and she didn’t mind in the least. She’d spent almost a year after her disgrace at Rhode Island in San Diego, waiting to be reassigned, and then she’d been assigned to the Hope. Perhaps her past was indeed just that now.
Past.
It also meant she didn’t have to find temporary lodging or, in the worst-case scenario, stay with her mother in Arizona where Erica would constantly be lectured about being in the Navy. Her mother didn’t exactly agree with Erica’s career choice.
“You’re in too much danger! The Navy killed your father.”
No, the Navy hadn’t killed her father. Undiagnosed PTSD had killed her father eventually, even if his physicians had had a bit of a hand in it by clearing him to serve in a covert mission.
Her mother wanted to know why she hadn’t gone in to psychiatry, helped wounded warriors as a civilian. Though that had been her intention, working in an OR gave her a sense of satisfaction. Being a surgeon let her be on the front line, to see action if needs be, just like her father. It was why she’d become a medic, to save men and women like her father, both in the field and in recuperation.
“Commander Erica Griffin reporting for duty, sir.” She stood at attention and saluted.
Dr. Wilder had his back to her; he was staring out the window, his hands clasped behind his back. It was a bit of an uneven stance, but there was something about him: something