The Nurse's Brooding Boss (3 page)

“Elana?” Tina called from the other side of the door.

“Yes?”

“How much longer? There’s a young woman and a crying baby that need to get in to see you right away.”

That didn’t sound too good. She reached over and opened the door. “I’m nearly finished. Jackson just needs to see Dr Jacoby while I get his wound supplies together.”

“I’ll do it. Tell me what he needs.”

Elana raised a brow. “What’s going on? Is the baby that sick?”

“I don’t know, but the mother is crying almost as hard as the baby.” Tina’s eyes were full of compassionate concern. “I can’t stand it.”

“All right, get him ten rolls of gauze and a jar of burns cream. Jackson, you need to change this dressing twice a day and return here to the clinic in five days, do you understand? We need to make sure that burn doesn’t get infected.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Tina hustled the young man out of the exam room, taking him over to see the doctor. Elana quickly threw out the paper strip from the exam table and wiped down the surface with a disposable bleach cloth. Within two minutes, a young waif-thin girl lugging a crying baby on her shoulder came into the room.

“Good morning, I’m the nurse here, my name is Elana. What’s going on today?”

The young woman’s eyes were swollen and red from her weeping. “He just keeps crying and crying. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” she murmured.

“There now, I’m sure it’s nothing you’re doing wrong,” Elana said firmly. “What’s your name? Do you mind if I hold him for a minute?”

Letting out a loud sniffle, the young woman handed the baby over. “I’m Lacey, and his name is Tucker. He’s seven weeks old.”

“Hi, Tucker,” Elana crooned, gently nuzzling the baby, testing the temperature of his skin. He did feel warm, but that could just as easily be because of the crying. She loved babies, another reason she volunteered her time here. Giving him one last nuzzle, she laid him on the exam table and undid his diaper, looking for obvious signs of irritation, like diaper rash, before using her stethoscope to listen to his heart and lungs.

Not an easy task while he was crying.

“Are you breast-feeding?” Elana asked, her heart going out to the waif-thin girl. The baby sounded a bit congested, but it could be merely the result of his non-stop crying. His ears didn’t look red, ruling out an ear infection.

“No. We give him whatever formula is on sale at the store,” Lacey admitted.

“That might be your problem,” Elana said gently. “Colicky babies don’t tolerate dairy-based formula, and you should really stick to one brand. I want you to try
the soy-based formula, and nothing else. I’ll give you some free samples here.”

“Are you sure it’s nothing more serious?” Lacey asked, swiping her nose on her sleeve. The motion pushed up the sleeve of her shirt, revealing a few bloody cuts on her forearm. As if she sensed Elana’s gaze, she quickly covered the area back up again. “I can’t believe Tucker is crying this much just because of colic.”

Elana wanted to ask about the suspicious marks she saw on Lacey’s arm, but at the moment little Tucker was her primary concern. “Don’t underestimate colic, Lacey. I’ve seen many mothers reduced to tears over inconsolably crying babies. There are many ways to treat colic. First let me get a soy-based formula sample for you to try, okay?”

Lacey sniffled again and nodded.

“I’ll be right back.” Elana handed her the baby and hurried over to their jam-packed supply cabinet and found a six-pack of soy-based cans of formula and a disposable bottle. After quickly preparing the bottle, she brought it back to the exam room.

“Here, see if he’ll take this,” she instructed.

Lacey held the baby in the crook of her arm and tried the bottle. At first Tucker sucked greedily, then, after a few minutes, he turned his head away and began crying again.

“See how he’s hungry but then turns away? That’s another classic sign of colic, too much gas. We can give him some anti-gas medicine in an eyedropper that should work. And I will get Dr Jacoby to take a listen to him just to be sure there’s nothing else going on.”
Elana hesitated and then carefully asked, “Do you have anyone to help you, Lacey? Or are you raising Tucker all alone?”

Lacey shrugged, trying to get Tucker to take the bottle again. “Joel, the baby’s father, is trying to help me, but he can’t stand it when Tucker cries.”

Oh, boy. Sounded like Joel and Lacey needed a lot of help. And she couldn’t dismiss those cuts on Lacey’s arms. She understood how hopelessness could suffocate your soul.

“Lacey, I’m here for you. I’d like you to come back in two days and bring Joel with you. You both need to learn how to deal with a colicky baby. I’ve heard using a baby swing alongside a noisy vacuum cleaner works, and car rides. Once Tucker gets the dairy products out of his system and starts on the anti-gas medication, he should be better.”

“Joel’s brother is a doctor, and even he thought there might be something more wrong with the baby,” Lacey said defensively.

She frowned at Lacey’s tone. Did the poor girl feel as if she wasn’t a good mother because she couldn’t handle the baby’s crying? “Really? Is his brother a pediatric specialist?”

“No, but Brock works in the emergency department at Trinity Medical Center.”

Brock? Had she heard correctly? Her stomach clenched, and she forced herself to ask, “What’s Joel’s last name?”

“Madison. Joel Madison.”

L
ATER THAT DAY
, Elana couldn’t stop thinking about Lacey’s plight. The cuts on that poor girl’s forearm haunted her. Lacey needed help. For herself and for her baby. More than just a quick clinic visit.

No matter how much she wanted to stay far away from Brock, she simply couldn’t ignore her conscience. Lacey was obviously in serious trouble; the telltale cuts on her forearm were not to be taken lightly. And Tucker was Brock’s nephew. Hadn’t Brock mentioned that he’d moved home to deal with some family issues?

There was no way around it. She needed to talk to Brock. To let him know her concerns about Lacey, Joel and their baby.

When she arrived at work, she walked into the arena and was surprised to discover they were busier than usual for a Wednesday evening. Patients streamed in seemingly from nowhere.

She couldn’t deny a hint of relief at the reprieve. There was no time to talk to anyone, not when so many
patients were in need of assistance. She jumped into the fray, helping to move patients through the system. But just when they’d started to catch up, a local discount store reported a serious gas leak. Dozens of people flooded the ED to be ruled out for potential carbon monoxide poisoning.

Luckily, most of the discount store patrons weren’t too sick, but each patient had to be registered, screened, treated and released, taking up a significant amount of time and energy. Elana had been pulled from the trauma bay to help, giving her what should have been a welcome break from working with Brock Madison.

Except she still really needed to talk to him about Lacey. At least, that was what she told herself when she found she was constantly looking for him.

“Do we have any more carbon monoxide poisoning cases left?” Raine asked, coming over to stand beside Elana, who was finishing up the charting on her soon-to-be-discharged patient. “Because if I don’t get a chance to eat something soon, I’m going to pass out myself.”

“I don’t think so,” Elana said, glancing up at the central board listing the status of all their patients. “According to Stacey, we were expecting to see twenty-three patients, and I’m sure we’ve moved at least that many through already.”

“I hope so,” Raine muttered with a low groan. “At least this influx of patients has made the shift go by fast.”

“No kidding. Why don’t you take a break? I’ll cover for you,” Elana offered. “Then, when you’re finished, I’ll go.”

“Thanks. Give me at least fifteen minutes.”

“Take twenty,” Elana said generously. “We deserve it.”

Even though the immediate urgency of the discount store gas leak had passed, there were still quite a few patients to see. Since the trauma bay was quiet, Elana continued to help out in the arena.

When she nearly tripped over Brock, she realized Stacey had reassigned Brock to the arena too. Probably to help with the influx of patients.

“Elana? Can you send a pregnancy test on the female patient in room two?” he asked.

“Sure. Is she one of the carbon monoxide exposure patients?”

He nodded. “She’s a bit worried she might be pregnant.”

Understandable. She hurried over to do what he’d asked. Unfortunately there wasn’t time to ask him about Lacey because her second patient began complaining of tight chest pain.

“I think you’d better take a look at this guy, Mr Reeves, in room eighteen,” she told Brock. “He has new-onset chest pain; we just did an ECG and sent labs. I think he needs to be moved into the trauma bay.”

Brock didn’t hesitate. “Let’s take a look.”

The elderly gentleman had come in originally because of a fall, but now, with this new onset of chest pain, Elana guessed it was more likely his fall had been caused by his heart problems in the first place.

“Definitely signs of ST depression, according to his twelve-lead ECG,” Brock murmured. “Let’s get him into the trauma bay so we have more access to equip
ment. I’ll call Cardiology so we can get this guy into the cath lab asap.”

Elana nodded, quickly explaining to Mr Reeves their plan. When she asked about his support systems, she learned his wife had passed away a year ago from colon cancer and he had two kids, a son and a daughter. He didn’t want to bother his kids, though, claiming they had their own families to worry about.

“I really think we need to call them,” she urged. “You may be having a small heart attack. I’m sure your son and daughter would want to know.” And hopefully they were decent kids who would come in to support their father.

Mr Reeves grudgingly agreed, and Elana quickly called the son, Kirk, who willingly took responsibility for getting in touch with his sister, Lisa. Satisfied her elderly patient wouldn’t be alone for long, she hurried back to his side.

“Your son, Kirk, is on his way,” she told him. “And he’s going to call Lisa too.”

“Thanks,” he whispered. His face had gone pale, and there was a fine sheen of sweat on his brow.

“Are you having more pain?” she asked in concern.

“Maybe a little,” he grudgingly admitted.

Catching Brock’s eye, she waved him over. “Mr Reeves is having pain; can I give him more morphine?”

“Absolutely. Give him five milligrams and move up to ten as needed. Draw a troponin level if you haven’t already. The cardiologist is on his way down.”

“I already drew the troponin with the rest of the labs; we should have the results any minute.” She hurried over
to the medication machine to withdraw the narcotics for her patient.

Mr Reeves visibly relaxed after he received the additional pain medication. His troponin level was elevated, so the cardiologist wasted no time in arranging for transport to the cardiac cath lab.

“Wait,” Mr Reeves protested. “I need to wait for my son.”

“You can’t wait, Mr Reeves,” Elana said gently. “There isn’t time; the quicker they can get your heart fixed, the less damage you’ll have. I promise I’ll talk to Kirk when he gets here. Your son will be in the waiting room when you’re all finished, okay?”

“Okay,” he reluctantly agreed.

“Nice job,” Brock murmured as the cardiology team wheeled Mr Reeves away. “You handled that very well.”

His offhand praise made her blush. “Er, thanks.” They’d been so busy since the start of their shift, the stilted awkwardness between them from the day before had vanished. She wasn’t sure it was a good thing. Could she really just pretend Felicity’s death meant nothing?

No. But at the same time, there were other, more important things to worry about. Like the situation with Lacey, Tucker and Brock’s brother.

Gathering her courage, she looked him in the eye. “Brock, do you have a few minutes after our shift to talk?”

He looked surprised, but readily agreed. “Of course. I can be available at any time you need.”

His eagerness made her feel guilty. Did he think they were going to rehash the past? Not likely. She hesi
tated, wondering if maybe she should give him a hint as to what she wanted to discuss.

“Elana, I’m glad you’re willing to talk to me,” Brock said in a low voice before she could think of a way to ease into the topic of his brother. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”

Really? Her cheeks felt hot all over again, and she cursed herself for succumbing to his charm. She wasn’t the least bit attracted to Brock Madison, and she didn’t need his approval to feel confident in her nursing skills.

“Elana? I’m back,” Raine said, walking up to them. “It’s your turn to take a break.”

She took the chance to escape gratefully. “Thanks, I’m starved. See you later,” she said to Brock before hurrying away.

Good grief, she needed to pull herself together, and quick. The purpose of her chat with Brock was solely to explain her concerns about Lacey and Tucker.

Once she’d let Brock know what was going on with Lacey and Tucker, she’d have no reason to speak to him on a personal level again.

Brock couldn’t control the wide grin on his face as he either helped dispatch patients home or admitted them to the hospital, depending on the extent of their illness.

Even though he doubted that Elana was totally going to let him off the hook the way she had in his dreams, he was thrilled she was finally going to give him a chance to explain.

Nine years ago he’d gone to Felicity’s funeral, but
that attempt to talk to Elana and her mother had ended in disaster. Her mother had all but tossed him out of the church, creating such a scene that he’d escaped before the police were called.

Good thing, since his policeman father had nearly boxed his ears after the accident as it was.

Months later, he’d tried to talk to them again, only to find Elana’s mother’s house was for sale. He’d soon discovered Louisa had suffered a complete nervous breakdown and Elana had been placed in foster care.

Shaken by the events that seemed to keep getting worse instead of better, he’d made it his business from that point forward to keep tabs on Elana from afar. Guilt had been his constant companion during those months following the accident, despite the results of Felicity’s autopsy. Those seconds before she’d pulled out in front of him had replayed over and over in his mind.

When he’d entered medical school, he’d buried his guilt and poured his energies into his studies. He’d graduated top of his class, but he couldn’t have cared less.

He’d been determined to save lives. It was the only way he could live with himself.

Brock took a ten-minute break, checking his phone for voice mail messages, surprised to find a message from Lacey. She’d sounded upset, crying again, as she’d begged him to call her back.

Glancing at his watch, he realized she’d called almost thirty minutes ago. Wincing at the delay, he quickly dialed her number, hoping she hadn’t gotten bad news regarding Tucker’s health.

“Lacey? It’s Brock. What’s wrong?”

“Oh, Brock, I don’t know what to do. Joel’s gone,” Lacey said between hiccupping sobs.

Brock frowned. “What do you mean, he’s gone? Gone to work? Is there something wrong with Tucker?”

“I took Tucker to the clinic, like you said. They did some tests, gave me medicine for him and told me to use different formula because he probably has colic. When I came home, I thought Joel was at work, but a couple of hours ago, they called here looking for him.”

A warning chill snaked down his back. Joel couldn’t have taken off, could he? Surely he wouldn’t risk losing his job, not when he had a baby to support. “Okay, don’t panic,” he said soothingly, hiding the depth of his concern. “I know Joel has been having a tough time lately. He probably just needed a little break. He’s likely having a drink or two with a couple of his buddies.”

“That’s what I thought too, at first,” Lacey said. “But I’ve called all his friends—no one has seen him all day. I even went to the bowling alley, his favorite hangout, but he hasn’t been there either. I’m scared, Brock. What am I going to do if he’s gone for good?”

Elana swiped out at the end of her shift and then glanced around, searching for Brock. He’d promised to meet her in the staff lounge after work, but it was possible he was still finishing up. The physicians couldn’t leave until they were assured all the patients were safe. The handover of care was easier for the nurses, though, since there were more nurses assigned per shift than doctors.

Nervous, she swiped her damp palms on the sides of her scrubs. A brief conversation with Brock shouldn’t cause an anxiety attack. Especially since this talk wasn’t remotely personal. This was about Lacey. The young mother and her son hadn’t been far from her thoughts all evening.

“Do you want to walk out to the parking lot together?” Raine asked.

“Nah, go ahead without me. I have a few things I have to do yet,” Elana hedged, avoiding direct eye contact with her closest friend.

“Like what?” Raine demanded, oblivious to Elana’s subtle hint. “You’ve swiped out, haven’t you? What else is there to do? It’s not like you can make phone calls or run errands at eleven-thirty at night.”

Elana suppressed a sigh. “There was a patient at the clinic today that has me worried. I need a few minutes to run the issue past Brock, that’s all.”

“Oh. I see.” Elana didn’t appreciate the knowing glint in Raine’s eye. “I’m sure
Brock
will be more than happy to help you out.”

“It’s not like that, Raine,” she snapped. “This isn’t a personal issue. I barely know the man.”

Raine arched one brow in disbelief. “Sure, Elana. Whatever you say. Heck, I think it’s great you’re talking to him. That means you’re giving him a chance. Hey, maybe you can get him to volunteer a few shifts a month at the clinic too.”

Oh, no. Absolutely not. No way was she asking Brock to volunteer at the clinic. Working with him in the emer
gency department was bad enough. The clinic was her refuge. She didn’t want him anywhere near the place.

After Raine had finally left, she let out a sigh of relief and plopped into a chair to wait for Brock. She’d give him another five minutes before she went searching for him. She was tired and didn’t have all night.

Yet she refused to leave without telling him her concerns about Lacey.

When he finally came in, he looked terrible. He wasn’t smiling, his face drawn into harsh lines. He looked about as exhausted as she felt.

For a minute she wavered. Maybe this wasn’t exactly the time to dump her concerns on him.

But just as quickly she stiffened her resolve. This wasn’t about Brock; he could take care of himself. Tucker was the vulnerable one. Not that Lacey was an awful mother, but she was definitely struggling.

“Hi, Elana. Sorry I’m late,” Brock said with a forced smile.

“No problem. It was a rough night for everyone, I think.” Making small talk with Brock felt weird. Truthfully, until the day they’d worked together in the trauma room, they hadn’t exchanged more than half a dozen words to each other, and none of them pleasant or friendly. At least on her part.

A hint of embarrassment crept under her skin when she remembered how she’d lashed out at him all those years ago at Felicity’s funeral. She pushed the memories of the past aside.

She cleared her throat, swiping her hands on her
scrubs again. “I’m sorry to bother you, but there’s a problem I think you need to know about.”