“HAVING problems?”
Bent over the restroom doorknob with a hairpin in the key slot, Nicole Lawrence stiffened at the sound of the familiar baritone. After learning that Galen Stafford was a staff ER physician here at Hope City Hospital during yesterday’s orientation tour, she’d been steeling herself for this moment when their awkward past would catch up to their equally awkward present.
Some might have considered it serendipitous for the two of them to land in the same hospital a year after they’d graduated from residency training, but Nikki did not. Of all the places she could have been sent to work, why did Galen have to be here?
Idly, she wondered if Emily Post or Miss Manners had ever covered the proper way to greet a man she’d once tried—and failed—to seduce.
She only wished their first face-to-face encounter since they’d parted company hadn’t occurred at the exact moment her recalcitrant six-year-old patient had turned the restroom into his sanctuary. So much for proving her competence to a former fellow resident, even if he’d seen her in far worse situations than this.
Bluffing her way through was her only choice. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d hidden something from him.
She straightened slowly as she turned to meet his gaze. Although she’d tried to mentally prepare herself for this moment, the magnetism she’d felt when she’d first met him at St Luke’s Medical Center in what seemed a lifetime ago instantly pulled at her. For a split second she weakened and drank in his appearance, letting herself remember only the good times they’d shared.
The love she’d felt for him, the love that she had been certain had withered over the past year, instantly stirred as if preparing to bloom. Determined to deny it, she forced herself to remember his rejection and her embarrassment after the night that could have become so special.
To give credit where it was due, he’d tried to soften the blow to her ego with an explanation, but by then she hadn’t cared about his reasons, only the outcome. To save face, she’d hidden her hurt behind a practiced smile and had pretended that all had been well for their remaining weeks together.
It was time for a repeat performance.
“Hi, Galen. Long time no see,” she said, hoping she sounded as warm and friendly as possible when she was irritated with herself for still suffering from an annoying case of unrequited love.
The lazy grin she remembered appeared on his handsome face as he eyed her from head to toe. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
“There’s bound to be a few changes,” she answered lightly. “Nothing stays the same.”
“You’re right,” he agreed. “I’ve added a few wrinkles, a few gray hairs, and a few pounds.” He patted an abdomen that seemed extremely trim in Nikki’s opinion.
Those crinkles around his eyes didn’t amount to much and she couldn’t see any silver strands in his pecan-brown hair. As for the few pounds he’d added, they’d ended up in all the right places, filling out his tall form with muscles that would have done any athlete proud.
If she’d found him irresistible and had fancied herself in love with him when they had been residents, she didn’t have a chance at successfully fighting her attraction to him now.
“All for the better,” she said politely, palming the hairpin as she tried to think of a way to send him on his way, both for her peace of mind and so she could return to the task at hand. Before she could put a coherent thought together, he pointed to the door.
“What’s going on? Is the door stuck?”
“You could say that,” she said slowly, wondering how she could skirt the issue without telling a complete untruth.
“I’d offer to break it down, but the maintenance department wouldn’t be too happy.”
“Oh, no. That isn’t necessary,” she hastened to reassure him, aware that with his physique he probably could. “We have everything under control. It’s nothing we can’t handle,” she added, glancing at the two women on either side of her—her nurse, forty-five-year-old Lynette Hayes, and Casey Owens’s mother, Jill. She’d hoped they would nod in agreement, but both women wore distinct we-need-help expressions that Galen would have had to be blind not to notice.
“There are other facilities to use,” he commented, his chocolate-brown eyes twinkling with merriment. “I know you’ve only been at Hope for a few days and probably don’t know your way around, but this wing has two other restrooms.”
Nikki braced herself against the warm feeling his dark gaze had once again created in her chest. She simply would not allow herself to fall back into old habits of imagining the impossible. He hadn’t wanted her then, so she wouldn’t foolishly think that he would want her now, no matter how engaging he was. They’d been friends and he hadn’t wanted to change that.
“I’ll make a point to check them out,” she commented. “Now, I’m sure you have things to do and people to see, so don’t let us keep you.”
“You’re not,” he answered with the boyish grin that charmed his women patients and made it difficult for those in the grandparent generation to believe he was a highly skilled and experienced physician. “I was coming to visit you.”
“Me?” What rotten luck, she thought as she toyed with the hairpin. “What for?”
“Lunch. For old times’ sake?”
“I’m busy.”
“Breaking into the restroom?”
She heaved a sigh. So much for secrecy. From the curiosity in his eyes, he wouldn’t leave until he knew exactly what was going on. “If you must know,” she said a trifle crossly, “a six-year-old has barricaded himself inside.”
“A patient?”
“Yes.”
“What’s wrong with him?”
Mrs Owens answered. “A sore throat.”
“Strep?” he asked Nikki.
Nikki shrugged. “I can’t say for sure. He took off before I could examine him.”
Galen’s grin widened and a familiar impish sparkle appeared in his eyes. “My, my. Two days on the job and you’ve already earned an unsavory reputation with the young crowd, Dr Lawrence.”
Nikki opened her mouth to protest, but Lynette broke in.
“It’s my fault,” the nurse confessed. “He asked if he’d get a shot like the last time and I said that we’d have to see what the doctor said. Before I knew it, he jumped off the table, ran out of the room and down the hall, then locked himself in here.”
Galen laughed. “There never was a dull moment around you, Nik. This is great.”
Nikki crossed her arms, irritated as much by his use of her nickname from their happier days together as by him finding their predicament so humorous. “I beg to differ.”
“Sorry. I know it’s not funny, but…” He shrugged.
“I’m sure we’ll laugh about this someday, but not now,” Nikki told him.
“You’re right.” His grin disappeared. “Have you tried a key?”
“If I had one, do you think I’d be trying the hairpin trick?” She didn’t wait for his reply before she added, “We’ve been waiting for someone from Housekeeping or Maintenance to bring a master key, but either they’re busy or they’ve forgotten.”
“How long has he been in there?”
She glanced at Lynette and Mrs Owens. “Twenty minutes or so.”
“Have you tried talking him out?”
Nikki’s tongue formed a sarcastic comment but, considering their audience, it wasn’t appropriate for one physician to argue with another. Instead, she glared at him. “We have. We all have.”
If that was Galen’s best suggestion, she’d better get back to work. She bent down to try her hairpin in the lock again as she raised her voice to speak through the closed door.
“Casey? It’s lunchtime. Would you like to come out and eat? The cafeteria is serving chicken nuggets today. Your mom says they’re your favorite.”
His reply was hoarse, but adamant. “Don’t want any.”
“How about a nice cup of ice cream? Or a Popsicle?”
“No.”
“I’ll bet you’re getting thirsty for something cold,” Nikki coaxed as she jiggled her pin and listened for a click.
“I can get my own drink.” The sound of water running confirmed his statement.
Galen crouched beside her. “Have you done this hairpin thing before?”
“No,”
Nikki said, intent on her task. “But once, when my older brother, Derek, wouldn’t stop tormenting my friend and me, we locked ourselves in his bedroom to teach him not to mess with us. Fifteen minutes later, he’d picked the lock with a hairpin and chased us out.”
She grinned, remembering. “The good thing was, he left us alone for the rest of the evening.”
Thinking she’d turned the tumbler, she rattled the knob, but it still wouldn’t turn. She muttered an unladylike “Damn” under her breath.
“This could take all day,” he commented.
“I never said I was a locksmith,” she reminded him. “For the record, though, you make a much better door than a window.”
And, oh, what a fine door he was. Six feet tall, solid, and built to last.
Irritated by her own thoughts and aggravated by how easily they’d formed, she wiggled the hairpin with more force than necessary.
“Sorry.” He straightened. “If Casey doesn’t want an injection, did anyone consider promising that he wouldn’t get one?”
Nikki shifted her gaze to meet his. “Now, why didn’t we think of that?” she answered sarcastically. “Of course we did. He didn’t buy it.”
“Maybe he will if he hears it from me. One man to another.”
She wanted to refuse, but her diplomatic efforts had failed and it didn’t appear as if picking the lock would succeed any time soon either. “Be my guest,” she grudgingly conceded.
Galen knocked on the door. “Casey? I’m Dr Stafford. I understand you don’t like shots.”
“They hurt.”
“Will you come out if I promise that none of us will give you one?”
“I like being in here.”
Galen glanced at Nikki, then at Casey’s mother, who shrugged.
“I’m sure you do,” he said. “But your mother wants to go home and I don’t think you want to spend the afternoon and evening by yourself.”
For a few seconds silence reigned, as if Casey was digesting this information. “Are there strange noises here?” he finally asked cautiously.
“Lots of them,” Galen said cheerfully. “Hospitals are noisy places because people work here all night. You’d sleep better at home in your own bed.”
Another pause. “You promise I won’t get a shot?”
Nikki interrupted with a whisper. “You don’t know what’s wrong with him. What if he’s—?”
He cut her off. “If he can pull off this type of stunt, he can’t be deathly ill.”
Nikki conceded the point.
Galen flashed a thumbs-up at her before he addressed the door. “I’m positive, Casey. No shots.”
“Cross your heart?”
“Cross my heart,” Galen repeated.
Another pause. “OK,” came the answer. “Hey, Mom. Did you know that if I stand on the sink on my tippy toes, I can touch the ceiling?”
A look of horror crossed Mrs Owens’s face. “Dear Lord,” she breathed.
“How big is this kid?” Nikki mumbled to Lynette.
“Definite basketball-player material,” Lynette responded with a shrug.
“Provided he doesn’t break his neck before then.”
“Stay calm,” Galen murmured, before he raised his voice. “Are you standing on the sink now?”
“Yeah. Hey, there’s a little spider web in the corner. We have them at our house, too, don’t we, Mama?”
Mrs Owens closed her eyes as if praying for strength.
“Forget the spider web,” Galen said firmly. “I want you to get down before you fall.”
“Do I have to? It’s really neat up here.”
“Yes!” Galen and Mrs Owens chimed in at the same time.
Casey sounded reluctant. “All right. I—Whoops…” His word ended in a scream, followed by a crash and an eerie silence.
Mrs Owens covered her mouth with both hands as her eyes widened with dismay. “Oh, no. He fell.”
Success was now imperative and extremely urgent. Nikki wiggled the pin, hardly aware of the sheen of sweat dotting her brow.
“Come on, Nikki,” Galen urged.
“I know. I’m trying.”
Suddenly Casey howled, which, considering the alternative, was a more welcome sound. “Mama,” he cried out.
Mrs Owens placed a palm against the door. “Mama’s here, Casey,” she crooned. “Can you open the door?”
“My arm hurts. And I’m bleeding.” His wail grew in volume after that pronouncement.
“We’ll have to break the door down,” Galen said grimly as he placed a hand on her shoulder in an obvious gesture to get her to move. “Step aside. We can’t wait any longer.”
Nikki ignored the strange sensation of heat to focus on her job. “Hold on. I might have it.” She carefully turned the pin until she heard a faint but familiar click. She turned the knob with relief. “We’re in.”
Galen immediately pushed open the door to reveal the tow-headed youngster sitting on the floor, cradling his arm as blood from a gash under his chin ran down his green-striped T-shirt.
“Mama,” he cried as his mother rushed to crouch beside him and enfold him in her arms.
“Oh, sweetie,” she said, her voice choked. “You’re going to be fine.”
“Mama,” he wailed louder as Nikki yanked a fistful of paper towel from the dispenser.
Galen accepted the compress she’d made and pressed it to the cut under Casey’s chin. “Looks like he hit his chin on the trash can. He’s lucky. It could have been worse.”
Nikki eyed the distance. Three feet wasn’t a lot, but it was enough. A patch of water in the sink, obviously a splash from when Casey had gotten himself a drink, had probably caused the daredevil-in-training’s foot to slip. Somehow she suspected this young man would cause his parents many sleepless nights and turn their hair prematurely gray.
Galen picked the boy off the floor. “Come on, big guy. Let’s go see what you did to yourself.” He looked at Nikki. “My place or yours?”
“He’s my patient. Take him to room three,” Nikki directed.
“Suit yourself.”
She led the entourage into the exam cubicle and quickly donned a pair of gloves while Galen placed a sniveling Casey on the exam table.
“Let’s take a look at your chin,” she said kindly, tipping his head back and removing the compress while she tried to forget Galen’s presence in the background. Blood welled in the inch-long gash and she quickly mopped away the excess with a thick square of gauze that Lynette supplied before the nurse busied herself taking his pulse and temperature.
“Will he need stitches?” Mrs Owens asked in a low voice.
“He could use a few,” Nikki admitted. If she went with the traditional treatment, she’d be using several needles—one for the local anesthetic injection and one to actually sew the wound closed. Considering Casey’s aversion to shots and the promise Galen had made, stitching his gash was not an option. At least, not an option if she wanted the boy to trust her the next time he needed medical attention. From what she’d seen so far of Casey’s temperament, he would definitely be back.
“Oh, dear.”
She quickly thought of an alternative. “There’s a glue available that works quite well, especially on young children, but I don’t know if…” She glanced at Galen, eyebrows raised.
He answered as if he’d read her mind. “We have it.”
Another crisis averted, she thought as she turned back to her patient’s mother and smiled. “He’ll only have to hold still for about thirty seconds, long enough for me to apply the Dermabond to the skin.”
Relief filled Mrs Owens’s eyes. “Oh, thank goodness.”
“The downside is that he may end up with a larger scar, but if he does, it won’t be noticeable under his chin. The choice is yours.”
“There isn’t any doubt. The glue.”
Nikki nodded to Lynette, who’d pushed a wheeled stainless-steel tray, which held more gauze, disinfectant and the wound glue, next to the bed.
“I’m going to clean your cut,” she told the youngster, “and then I’m going to paste your skin back together so you’ll stop bleeding.”
His lower lip trembled. “Will it hurt?”
Nikki smiled. “It might tickle, but it won’t hurt.”
He leaned against his mother’s chest, his small brow knitted as if bracing himself for the worst. A few minutes later, after being disinfected and Dermabonded, he was all smiles.
“I didn’t feel a thing,” he boasted.
Nikki smiled. “What did I tell you?”“
How long will it last?” Mrs Owens asked.
“The glue dries hard and will start flaking off in about a week, leaving healed skin behind,” Nikki explained. “So you won’t need to come back unless you notice a problem.”
Mrs Owens appeared surprised. “Really?”
“Oh, yes. It’s quite tough. They initially tested it on hockey players and if the glue can hold up under the abuse those guys take, it should hold up on Casey.” Nikki addressed the youngster again. “Now, I want you to open your mouth so I can look at your throat.”
His blue eyes widened and he glanced wildly around the room until his gaze landed on Galen. “No shots. He promised.”
“No shots,” Nikki repeated.
Casey opened his mouth and Nikki quickly saw the red patches at the back of his throat. Before he could argue, she quickly rolled a cotton swab over the area. “So we can test for strep,” she told his mother before she handed it to Lynette. “We’ll have the results before you leave.”
Nikki smiled. “It doesn’t take long. I’m also relatively sure they’ll be positive.”
Mrs Owens frowned. “Does that mean…?” She glanced down at her son.
“We’ll give a liquid antibiotic. He won’t bounce back as quickly as he would if we chose the other treatment, but we’ll do what we can to fight the infection.” She bent to Casey’s eye level. “How’s the arm?”
“Hurts.”
Nikki carefully examined his forearm, suspecting that it might be a severe sprain rather than a fracture. “I’m going to send you to Radiology so they can take pictures of your arm and wrist. Have you ever had your picture taken at the hospital before?”
He shook his head, dislodging a few tears in the process.
“These are special pictures that let us see inside you,” Nikki said, almost surprised that this was the daredevil’s first potentially broken bone. “And just like the pictures your mom and dad take, these won’t hurt. Can you hold still so the lady in X-ray can take them?”
“Yeah.”
“All right, then. Off you go. Would you like to walk or ride?”
His eyes brightened. “Ride.”
“OK. One wheelchair coming right up.”
Lynette disappeared, then reappeared with a wheelchair. The pain in his arm, chin, and throat plainly forgotten at the prospect of this next experience, Casey’s eyes glittered with excitement.
As Lynette wheeled him down the hall, accompanied by his mother, Nikki heard him ask, “Can we go fast?”
She shook her head in amusement at Galen, who was leaning against the counter. “He’s definitely pure boy.”
“I also predict many more visits.”
As he straightened and flashed his familiar lazy smile, awareness shimmied down her spine. He wasn’t the first man to tower over her, but he was the only one who made her nerve endings dance with anticipation. It was mildly frustrating to realize that her response, not to mention his clean, woodsy aftershave, hadn’t changed over time.
“I do, too. For a kid who worries about pain, he’s certainly fearless,” she said, determined to concentrate on her patient instead of Galen.
“Ah, but when you’re seeking a thrill, the potential for pain is at the back of your mind. He’ll learn.”
“The hard way,” she predicted.
“Probably. So what’s your answer?”
Her mind drew a blank. “To what?”
“Lunch.”
“Casey is my lunch date.”
“You’ll be finished with him in forty minutes, if that long. You’re officially closed until one-thirty.”
“How do you know?”
“I used to work in the MEC before I moved into the ER full time.” He glanced at his watch. “I figure that gives us about forty-five minutes to run down to the cafeteria.”
“I shouldn’t…” she said slowly, tempted to accept and certain she’d be foolish if she did.
After that fateful night when she’d thrown herself at him, she’d tweaked her work routine to avoid the inevitable awkward encounters. It had been easy because of all the distractions associated with ending their residencies—upcoming exams, evaluations, job interviews, and patients.
The sheer size of St Luke’s, where it was rumored that a medical student had gone to Pathology with a specimen and had never been seen again, had also helped. Unfortunately, staying out of Galen’s way at Hope would be a lot more difficult. Her job description included covering the minor emergency clinic to free the ER for true emergencies and acting as Galen’s back-up whenever the ER became swamped. Yet, with conscious effort, she could manage to limit the time they spent together.
She would.
“Come on,” he coaxed. “They’re serving Philly steak sandwiches today, with lots of green peppers and mozzarella cheese. Exactly the way you liked them.”
“You remember?” she asked, surprised.
“Why wouldn’t I? I lost track of the number of times we stopped at the sub shop after our shift to eat. You never ordered anything else. So, what do you say?”
She still hesitated. “I should review my afternoon patients’ charts.”
“Thirty minutes,” he wheedled. “Surely you can spare that much time.”
“I really can’t.”
A thoughtful look crossed his face. “Still in your workaholic phase?”
Working extra-long hours during those last few weeks had been her salvation and he’d clearly not forgotten.
“Since when is being thorough a flaw?” she countered.
His careful study nearly caused her to fidget. “It isn’t,” he said, “but you don’t need to prove yourself to anyone here. Your recommendations were faultless.”
“And how would you know?”
He grinned. “I asked. And added a few of my own.”
Nikki wondered what he’d told his superiors, but sometimes ignorance was bliss. “Good recommendations don’t come by accident.”
“True,” he admitted. “But skipping lunch on your first real day on duty isn’t smart. Don’t you know that your body burns more calories during times of stress?”
She raised her chin defiantly. “Who said I was under stress?”
He arched one eyebrow in his you-can’t-fool-me-because-I-know-better look. “Learning a new routine in a new facility, moving into new quarters, having your patient lock himself in the restroom, seeing old friends and remembering old…times.” He hesitated as he raised one eyebrow. “Aren’t they stressful events?”
“Maybe a little,” she grudgingly admitted.
“I rest my case.”
“But—”
“You should also know that you should eat when the opportunity arises. Hope City Hospital may not be as large as St Luke’s or have the daily volume, but there’ll still be plenty of days when the aroma wafting out of the cafeteria will be the closest you’ll come to food.”
His gentle warning chipped away at her resolve until it began to waver.
“If it will make you feel better,” he added, “I’ll put a special note in your personnel file that you wanted to skip lunch out of dedication to duty, but I corrupted you. They’ll understand.”
His grin was wide and so full of boyish charm that she chuckled. He was still as persistent and as persuasive as ever, and clearly his knack was well known. Perhaps it would be best if she agreed. Once this luncheon date was behind them, he’d no doubt go his way and she could go hers. She may have to help him out in the ER when things got hairy but, in a small town like Hope, how often would he have more patients than he could handle on his own?
“All right. Thirty minutes.”
“Good.” He looked inordinately pleased with himself. “I’ll see you in the cafeteria at twelve forty-five. If you’re not there by twelve-fifty, I’m coming to get you.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be there,” she said.
He gave her a jaunty salute, then disappeared down the hallway, whistling a jolly, but unrecognizable tune.
Nikki watched him go, wondering if she would be strong enough to avoid falling under his spell once again.