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On Wednesday night, Marla drove to the hospital for her first shift. She arrived in time for check-out and was immediately busy with a board full of patients. Her first case was a skateboarding head injury. Thankfully, it was just a small concussion and laceration. Later in the evening, a seizing patient came through the doors. After Marla had controlled the seizures, the patient was admitted to the neurology unit. Just before the end of her shift, a middle-aged man had come in after a heart attack. He was conscious and stable, though, and the cardiology service admitted him to the hospital. To her surprise, the night flew by. By check-out the next morning, her energy was crashing. On her drive home, she felt both accomplished and tired. She had helped many patients overnight, but her body also ached from being on her feet for so long. Despite the exhaustion, she was happy for the distraction.
Over the next two weeks, she worked several twelve-hour night shifts. During that time, her body adjusted to the night schedule and the workload. As the following weekend rolled around, Marla was feeling more encouraged at work. She felt as if her shifts were falling into a pattern, and this gave her comfort and confidence.
On Friday night, Lewis busted through the ER doors. He looked as if he had come from the fire station. As she stared at him more intensely, it appeared that he had come from a fire. He was wearing his turnout gear minus his helmet. Sweaty and stained with soot, he looked like he had been shoveling ashes.
“Hey Lewis, what are you doing here?” She asked.
Lewis looked relieved to see her. “Marla, I’m glad you’re here.”
“What’s going on?” She asked, feeling worried.
“Micah is hurt—not bad—but he has a bad cut,” he explained.
“Micah?” She said, furrowing her brows. What did Micah have to do with Lewis fighting a fire?
As she was about to ask Lewis for clarification, Micah rounded the corner with another firefighter at his side. They were both dressed in turn-out gear, and their hair was mashed and wet from their helmets. Marla intercepted them and could see that Micah’s forearm was wrapped in a blood-stained dressing. He was cradling his arm.
“Bring him in here,” Marla said, motioning to an ER patient room.
Lewis excused the other firefighter and escorted Micah into the room.
Micah sat on the stretcher. “Don’t make such a big deal out of this.”
Lewis said, “It is a big deal. You have a big gash on your arm. Let’s get it taken care of.”
Micah looked at Lewis, then at Marla, and resigned himself to treatment. “Okay,” he said, starting to unwrap the dressing.
Marla put on gloves and sat on a stool beside Micah. She quickly unwrapped the dressing the rest of the way. There was active bleeding in one area, and she immediately applied pressure to it.
Micah winced and yelped, “Ouch!”
“Sorry,” Marla said. “You have a bleeder.”
Marla gave orders to Lisa, the nurse working with her that night. Lisa looked panicked and worked quickly to bring all of the necessary supplies to the room.
“I want you to lie down,” Marla told Micah.
“I’m fine.”
“No, I need you to lie down so I can care for your wound properly.”
Micah studied her, hoping she would let him have his way. But when he saw the determination in her face, he complied.
Lisa started an intravenous line and then gave Micah the pain medicine Marla had ordered. With Micah more relaxed, Marla was able to survey the wound better. He had a six-centimeter laceration on his supine forearm. She looked at Lewis, “How did this happen?”
Lewis had been sitting quietly in a chair in the corner of the room. “We were putting out a fire in an old shed, and the roof gave way. Thankfully, it didn’t land on any of us, but one of the timbers caught Micah’s arm and cut it.”
Lisa studied Lewis carefully as she held Micah’s arm down. Lewis leaned forward in his chair as he spoke. Part of his bangs had fallen over his eye, and he reached to swipe it away. Lisa seemed mesmerized by his movement. She looked away quickly when he caught her staring at him.
Marla looked at Lewis, confused. “Why is Micah putting out fires?”
Micah started to reply, but his speech was slurred from the effects of the pain medicine. He dozed off.
Lewis had been looking at Lisa, and he diverted his gaze toward Marla. He seemed confused at her question and answered her almost rhetorically. “Because he’s a fireman?”
Marla shook her head and said, “Okay, whatever. I had no idea he was a fireman. Last time I checked, he was a nurse.”
Lewis nodded as if he now understood her line of questioning. “He’s been a part-time firefighter for a year. He recently changed his nursing shifts to day shifts so he can work some nights with us.”
Marla nodded and raised her eyebrows. All she could say was, “Oh.”
Marla began methodically sewing Micah’s arm up. She had trouble keeping him pain-free between using the local anesthetic and the intravenous medications. Micah would wince in pain every few sutures, and Lewis had to help hold him down a few times. The intravenous medicine had clearly gone to Micah’s head. He would be asleep snoring, then wake up and mumble incomprehensive statements and fidget with his intravenous line. Then he would fall back asleep again.
When the wound was completely closed, Lewis took a deep breath. “Is he going to be okay?”
“Yes, he’ll be fine. I just need to apply a dressing, and then we’ll let him wake up a little more,” said Marla.
Lewis nodded. “Is there anywhere I can get a cup of coffee?”
Before Marla could answer, Lisa said, “I’ll take you to the lounge. You can get some coffee there.”
Marla nodded at Lisa and said, “Thank you.” Despite the fact that Marla had been engrossed in sewing up the laceration, she hadn’t failed to notice the chemistry between Lewis and Lisa. Twice during the procedure, she had to pull Lisa’s attention away from Lewis and make her refocus on the suturing. Marla smiled and shook her head. It was miraculous how love could bloom almost anywhere. As she thought of that, her thoughts turned to Micah. His eyes were closed, and he appeared to be comfortable. He’s so gorgeous, she thought. His hair was matted and had dried in different directions, but she still wanted to run her fingers through his dark locks. She quickly reprimanded herself for letting her thoughts wander, and she tried to refocus.
When she applied the final dressing, Micah opened his eyes and looked over at her sitting next to him. His eyelids were heavy, and he initially had trouble focusing on her because of the pain medicine. He stared at her for several seconds, finally able to see her. Marla could feel the weight of his stare as if he was looking inside her soul. For several seconds, their eyes were locked, and neither of them said anything. With a groggy voice and slurred speech, he said, “You’re beautiful. I love your heart.”
Marla felt her heart flutter as she stared back at him. She smiled, knowing the pain medicine was affecting him, but she also felt the deep longing in his words. Leaning toward him, she said, “Thank you, but I believe that’s the pain medicine talking.”
He reached for her hand. “No, it’s not the medicine. I think you’re beautiful, and you’re special.”
She pursed her lips and felt her breath catch in her throat. “Thank you. You are very sweet.”
As she started to stand from the stool, he took her hand again. “You remind me of Allie. I miss her so much. I didn’t think there could be anyone else ...” He trailed off.
Marla remained on the stool and leaned toward him again. “Who’s Allie?” She asked. When she leaned in closer, she realized he was sleeping.
Who is Allie? Micah’s eyes had revealed that same sadness she had seen when she had first met him. This woman must have been special to him. He had painful memories in his past, and it was clear that he was still suffering. What did he mean by anyone else?
She watched him sleep for a while. It was hard not to ogle at his face. Marla felt her heart begin to race, and her face flushed. There was nowhere else she wanted to be right now, but she knew she needed some air. Micah Brady had her head spinning and her heart aching. Quietly, she stepped out to the desk and sat down for a while before she finished her documentation.
An hour later, Micah awoke and became more alert. Lewis sat in the corner, sipping a cup of coffee. “Am I all fixed?” Micah asked Lewis with his eyes half closed.
Marla walked into the room at that time and answered, “You’re as good as new.”
Micah smiled at her. “Thank you.” He closed his eyes again.
Marla handed Lewis a couple of prescriptions for Micah. “He should be waking up more soon. Here are his prescriptions if you could get them filled for him.”
Lewis nodded and said, “Sure thing.”
Marla added, “If you could stay with him at home until he is more awake, I would appreciate it.”
Lewis nodded again. “I’ll take good care of him.”
As Marla drove home after her shift, she couldn’t stop thinking about who Allie was to Micah. She wanted to know. Seeing him suffer broke her heart, though she didn’t know why. She figured he wouldn’t remember their conversation, which made her a little sad because there was no way she would be able to stop thinking about it.