Taming Her Navy Doc (14 page)

Because I’m leaving.

Only she couldn’t verbalize those words.

Chicken.

She tried to turn and leave, because she was embarrassed she’d admitted it to him. Embarrassed that he knew she’d been foolish enough once to believe in forever with someone who wasn’t worthy. She made it to her quarters and opened the door. Just as Thorne came up behind her.

“Erica, I would never jeopardize your career. I hope you know that.”

“I know. I just wanted you to know why… I couldn’t really hide it any longer. I thought for sure you knew. I was pretty sure it was on my service record.”

“No, why would it be? If you were passed up for commendation or a promotion in rank, do you really think those responsible for denying that would record it on your service record?”

She was a bit stunned.

“You look surprised,” he commented.

“Captain Dayton knew why I was passed up for promotion. I don’t even know why he actually picked me to come aboard the
Hope.
”

“Captain Dayton is a smart man. He saw talent. Just like I did.” Thorne rubbed the back of his neck, frowning, as if he was struggling to tell her something and she was expecting him to tell her why he couldn’t be with someone.

What was holding him back?

What’s holding you back?

Still she waited. She waited for him to open up to her, waited pathetically for a sign that maybe it would be worth a second thought. Only he said nothing to her and she was angry at herself for even thinking for one moment that she’d give up on her dreams for a man. When had she become so weak?

Her career mattered. Her life mattered.

“Thorne, I have something to tell you.”

“Erica, don’t say something we’ll regret.”

“I’m transferring to Annapolis.”

The blood drained from his face and his brow furrowed. “Pardon?”

“I’m transferring to Annapolis, Maryland. I was offered a position as Captain and I would be working with medical corps recruits. It’s a chance of a lifetime and I couldn’t turn it down.”

“No, of course not.” He smiled, but it was forced. “Who gave you the commendation?”

“Captain Dayton actually recommended me.”

He chuckled, but it was one of derision, not mirth. “Is that a fact? When do you leave?”

“In a week.”

Thorne nodded slowly. “Well, of course you have to go.”

“I do.” Only part of her was screaming not to go—the part of her that wanted to stay with Thorne, marry him and settle down. But he couldn’t give her any promises and neither could she. If he didn’t want her, she didn’t want to settle down with a man who would resent her down the road or, worse, she would resent him for making her give up on her career.

No, she had to go.

“I’m sorry I’m leaving you without a second in command.”

“I’ll make do until a replacement can be
sent.” He wasn’t looking at her as he backed away from her door. “I better put in a request now.”

“Do you still need me to look at your leg?”

“No,” he snapped. “It’s fine. I’ll see you tomorrow, Commander Griffin.”

Her heart ached as she watched him walk away quickly and she tried to tell herself it was all for the best.

This way she wouldn’t get hurt.

* * *

It was her last day. She was shipping out tonight, but this was her last day working at the base hospital. Her last day working with Thorne.

Things had been awkward since she’d told him that she was accepting a post in Annapolis. They spoke, but barely, and it was about work. She waited for the other shoe to drop. She waited for him to report her as unfit or something.

And when the conversation drifted from work or the duty roster it became tense. It was like he was mad that she was leaving. But it was part of life in the Navy. ­Officers took postings, left postings.

Her promotion to captain was something she couldn’t give up but, anytime she went to talk to him about it, he turned and walked away
from her, making it blatantly obvious that he was avoiding her.

She’d even gone to Scooby’s a few times, trying to catch him. Only he hadn’t been there and Scooby was even concerned he hadn’t seen Thorne in a while.

“He shouldn’t be alone, Commander. He thinks he can handle it. He can’t. I know he’s not the only one around here.”

Erica was sure that last part was a jab at her. Scooby didn’t understand her circumstances. He didn’t get why she couldn’t be with someone again. She couldn’t tether herself to another person and Annapolis was the dream.

It had been since she’d graduated there.

Only, being around Thorne had made her think for a moment that maybe it might be good to be with someone. She wanted it to be him, but he didn’t seem to have an interest in letting her past his barriers.

“Commander!” Bunny shouted from the charge desk, a phone in her hand. “Commander Griffin.”

Erica rushed over. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s a code black,” Bunny whispered. “You’re to go out to the helipad. The west part of the trauma floor is being cleared. Need to know only.”

“Tell them I’m on my way.” Erica started
running toward the helipad. The wing in question was being cleared quickly and Masters of Arms were beginning to block off the entrances and barricade people from that section of the trauma floor.

A shudder traveled down her spine as she thought of that moment five years ago: silent running on the ship. Pitch-black, and the flare from the submarine illuminating the sky to direct the helicopter.

Another covert operation.

When she got to the helipad Thorne was there waiting, the helipad surrounded by armed military police.

“It’s about time,” Thorne snapped.

“Who’s coming in? The president or something?”

“They didn’t say. Just that it was covert. Most likely Special Ops.”

The roar of the helicopter sounded in the distance and they braced themselves for the wind being stirred up as the helicopter landed. Once they had the all clear they ran forward with the gurney and loaded the patient, who was screaming in agony.

The patient’s commanding officer leaped down beside the gurney and helped them wheel the man toward the hospital.

“Prepare for more incoming,” the command
ing officer said. “We had a few casualties, but he was by far the worst.”

“Do we get any specifics?” Erica snapped. “Or do we refer to him as John Doe?”

“Commander Griffin!” Thorne warned.

“John Doe, Commander,” the unit’s commanding ­officer responded. “It’s all classified.”

“Understood,” Thorne said. “We’ll take care of your man. What happened to him?”

“Explosion. Shredded his arm. We packed it the best we could, but I think it’s infected.”

“Are you medical?” Erica asked sharply as they wheeled the John Doe into a triage room and began to undress him to get to the damage.

“I am.”

“Maybe you can scrub in,” Thorne suggested.

“I can’t. As soon as the men are stable we have to ship to our meeting place.”

Erica snorted and Thorne sent her a look to silence her.

The moment Erica came close to the man’s left arm, he screamed in pain, and as soon as she got close to him she could see the infection. It was worse than Thorne’s had been. She didn’t know how long these men had been in the field, but this John Doe was lucky to be alive.

“He needs surgery,” Erica said, turning quickly to start a central line to get antibiotics into the John Doe and sedate him.

“Agreed,” Thorne said. “Don’t worry, seaman, we’ll take care of you.”

Erica had the central line in as fast as she could and was pumping the medicine the John Doe needed. He was also severely dehydrated, by the way his lips were cracked, and she couldn’t help but wonder how much blood loss he was suffering from.

Thorne sedated him and then was inserting tubes down the man’s throat so that he could breathe.

After a few orders, the nurses who were in the know had the OR ready to go and they were wheeling their John Doe off to surgery.

Erica scrubbed alongside Thorne as the nurses prepped and draped the patient.

“Pretty basic, I think,” she said.

“What’s basic?” Thorne asked.

“Amputation of the arm.”

Thorne stopped scrubbing for a moment. “If it’s deemed necessary.”

“I think it’s necessary. Don’t you?”

Thorne ignored her and walked into the OR where a nurse gowned him and put gloves on him.

Erica cursed under her breath and followed him, jamming her arms angrily down into the gown that was held out for her.

As she approached the table she could see
the damage the IED had caused and this time she did curse out loud.

Thorne glanced at her quickly. “I know.”

“He’s lucky to have lived this long. Do you think it can still be saved, Captain?” The tone was sarcastic. It was meant to be, but then the scrub nurse beside Thorne gasped, and few others looked at her like she’d lost her mind.

She was being insubordinate to her commanding ­officer in his OR.

“Get out,” Thorne said.

“What?” Erica asked.

“I said, get out.”

“Why? He obviously needs an amputation. Are you telling me that you’re going to work on his arm when it’s clearly not salvageable?”

“That will be my decision as head surgeon. Now, Commander Griffin, if you’d kindly leave my OR and send in Ensign Benjamin. He’s been cleared for this level of security and he can assist me in saving John Doe’s life.”

“With all due respect, Captain. I’m scrubbed in and ready to go. I’ve dealt with infections of this caliber before. I think I should be the one assisting.”

“Do you?”

“I do.” Erica held her ground. She had nothing to lose anyway, as she was heading to Annapolis.

“I don’t think so, Commander. You wrote off his arm before you had X-rays done or even thoroughly examined the wound. Is that how you made your decision when you took my leg and ruined my career?”

The room was silent—at least, she assumed it was, since her head was filled with the thundering of her blood as it boiled.

She thought he’d forgiven her or didn’t blame her for the decision she’d made five years ago, which had taken his leg, but apparently that wasn’t true. He still resented her. Enough to bring up her competence in front of other staff members; he’d humiliated and embarrassed her.

Erica took a calming breath and stared at him across the OR.

“I saved your life.”

“And I will save his. Now, get out of my OR, Commander. That’s an order.”

Erica didn’t say anything but obeyed her commanding officer. She ripped off the gloves and gown and jammed them in the soiled bin and then scrubbed out as quickly as she could. When she was in the hall, she ripped off her surgical cap and tossed it against the wall.

She’d been so foolish to fall in love with her commanding officer, a former patient, even. She was stupid to think about trying to make it work, to think of having it all and settling
down. She was weak for letting herself be momentarily ruled by her heart.

Well, it wouldn’t happen again. She would never open her heart again.

She was tired of it being broken.

* * *

Thorne couldn’t save the John Doe’s arm. Erica had been right. He’d known from the moment he’d seen it briefly in the triage room, but instead of listening to her he’d been ruled by his emotions, by the feelings of betrayal he’d felt ever since she’d told him that she was leaving Okinawa to take a prestigious posting at Annapolis.

If it had been anyone else he would’ve been happier for them. He was happy for Erica, but the fact was she was leaving him, and he was acting like a fool.

She was leaving and he didn’t want to let her go.

This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?

He deserved this. He didn’t deserve to be happy. It was fitting she was leaving.

He wanted her to leave Okinawa so he wouldn’t be tempted, the only problem being he’d been tempted long before she’d decided to leave and now he didn’t want her to go. He wanted her to stay with him. Only, she couldn’t.

Thorne had to let her go.

It was for the best.

She would move on.

Erica wanted to advance her career: it was evident from the postings she’d chosen, by how far she’d come and what she’d endured to get to her position.

He couldn’t be selfish, because he couldn’t promise her anything.

Why not?

So he had to let her go. But first it was up to him to explain to the John Doe how his career was over and up to him to see the Special Ops team off to wherever they were going. Most likely San Diego.

As he headed out into the private room where the team was waiting, he caught sight of Erica in her uniform, her rucksack over her bag. She’d obviously cleared out her locker.

Let her go. She’s mad at you and doesn’t want to speak with you.

“Commander Griffin.”

She turned and faced him. Her expression was ­unreadable as she dropped her bag and saluted him, holding herself at attention.

“Erica,” he said.

“Captain.” She would not look him in the eye.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

Her eyes narrowed and she looked at him, but wouldn’t speak to him.

“You’re at ease, Commander.”

Erica relaxed her posture. “Can I help you, Captain?”

“I need to speak with you. Privately.”

“I don’t think that’s wise, Captain. I think everything has been said.”

“Please.”

Erica sighed and picked up her rucksack, following Thorne into a small exam room. She shut the door behind her.

“What do you need to talk to me about? Whatever it is, make it quick. I’m catching the next transport back to the US.”

“I know. I wanted to apologize.”

“Apologize.”

“I was out of line. You’re right; the John Doe lost his arm. There was no way to salvage it.”

Erica frowned. “I’m sorry that it couldn’t be saved. I am.”

Thorne nodded and then reached into his lab coat pocket for the small package he’d been carrying around since before she’d been leaving. Maybe because on some certain level he always knew she’d leave. “There was no excuse for my behavior. I wanted to clear the air before you left and give you this.”