The Nurse's Brooding Boss (8 page)

Elana helped Eric clean up the patient, whose family had yet to be notified, but she kept looking for Brock, wondering where he was. She tried to tell herself Brock’s issues were none of her business, but she couldn’t seem to shut off her concern. When they’d finished cleaning up the patient, waiting for transportation to the morgue, she slipped out of the trauma bay. Following her instincts, she headed towards the staff lounge, catching sight of Brock sitting on the small sofa, his head cradled in his hands.

She felt sick to her stomach, seeing him so miserable. Once she’d wanted him to hurt as much as she did. Now she knew that wasn’t true.

Seeing Brock suffer didn’t make her feel one bit better.

He was taking the young man’s death very hard. Did he always react like this when he lost a patient? She watched him for a minute, realizing he’d probably rather be alone, but, as before, unable to simply walk away.

Had it been just a few short hours since he’d held her when she’d cried outside her mother’s nursing home?

“Brock? Are you okay?” she asked, cautiously venturing into the room.

He lifted his head, his expression haggard. “Yeah.”

She didn’t believe him. He looked awful, and sud
denly she understood. He lived for his work, pouring every bit of himself into his patients’ lives, taking every death as a personal failure. “Don’t do this,” she pleaded in a low tone. “It’s not your fault. He was gone before he got here.”

A flash of anguish flitted across his face before he glanced away. “I know that. I’m not blaming myself.”

Yes, he was. The stark desolation on his face proved it. He hated losing even one patient, although every doctor knew that it was impossible to save everyone.

Why did he let it affect him so much? Because of the past? Because of her sister?

She remembered how she’d been at the beginning of her career when she’d lost a patient. “During my first six months in the ED, I lost my first patient. She was in her mid-thirties, but I kept seeing Felicity’s face instead of hers.”

For a moment his stunned gaze collided with hers. And she realized he was doing the same thing.

She and Brock had more in common than she’d ever imagined.

Chloe had tried to tell her that he’d suffered too, but she’d refused to believe. Hadn’t understood how much she’d needed to blame Brock.

Because the only other option was to blame Felicity. For being reckless in pulling out in front of Brock. For being careless in not wearing her seat belt.

For leaving Elana when she’d needed her older sister the most.

The realization shook her to the core. She didn’t
want to think about how lost she’d been. At the moment, Brock was more important.

“This isn’t the first patient I’ve lost,” he murmured, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “And I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

Didn’t he ever remember the patients he’d saved?

“Jamie Edgar, the spinal fracture patient, is doing fine; she still has some limited mobility, but the spine surgeons have complete confidence she’ll regain most of her limb function. Mr Reeves, our heart attack patient, is scheduled to go home tomorrow; he’s doing great. Our twin gun-shot victims are also fine, although hospital administration has kept them on opposite ends of the hospital to keep their families from running into each other and causing more fights.” She paused, knowing she was forgetting one. “Oh, yes, and Ariel Peterson is doing better too after her drug overdose; her parents have agreed to take her in for therapy.”

“So?” Brock had frowned as she’d rattled off just a few of the patients they’d cared for over the past few days. “Saving lives is what we do. What’s your point?”

“Focusing on the few losses among so many successes is counterproductive. Stop punishing yourself for losing a patient. Especially one that had so many strikes against him.”

He stared at her for a moment, his guilt clearly reflected in his eyes.

“And maybe it’s time to stop punishing yourself for Felicity’s death.”

He glanced away, letting out a harsh laugh. “Strange
advice coming from the woman who hasn’t been able to forgive me.”

Feeling sucker-punched, she drew in a sharp breath. “Maybe you’re right.”

He winced and shook his head. “No, don’t listen to me. It’s been a rough night. I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“Yes, you do. Because you’re right.” She remembered what Eric had said to her less than an hour ago. Pretending everything was fine was hardly healthy. She thought about the hours of pain she’d suffered, the relentless anger as she’d entered the foster-home system. Until Chloe.

Her foster mother had been right all along. She’d thought she’d put the past behind her, but in reality she’d only been pretending. On the surface. Not accepting the truth deep inside where it counted.

Brock Madison wasn’t the awful person she’d depicted all these years. Even her mother didn’t blame him! Why was she holding back?

“I forgive you.”

H
E COULDN’T
believe what he was hearing. Had she really meant what she’d just said? “It’s okay, Elana. You don’t have to say things you don’t mean to make me feel better. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

She let out a heavy sigh. “I’m not putting the past behind me for your sake, Brock. I’m doing it for mine. I think it’s time I move forward with my life, don’t you?”

“Yes.” He was happy for her and seriously hoped she could really follow through. “I’m glad. You deserve to be happy.”

Tilting her head to the side, she sent him a puzzled glance. “And you don’t?”

He hesitated, unsure how to respond. “Sure, I guess.”

He must not have sounded convincing because she gave him a skeptical look. “Have you ever been in a serious relationship?”

“No.” He didn’t want to have this conversation. He’d rather bask in the knowledge that Elana had forgiven him, even if only for her own sake.

“I see.” Her expression was troubled, and he didn’t like to think she could read his guilt-ridden mind.

“There hasn’t been time,” he protested, even though he knew it wasn’t really true. “Besides, saving lives is far more important.”

“More important than living your own life?” she asked.

Yes. But he didn’t say it out loud.

“One isn’t mutually exclusive of the other,” she said softly.

“I know.” Logically he did know, but deep down he couldn’t quite accept it. Especially when he thought about those breathtaking moments when their fingers had tangled on the clipboard. Maybe he was thinking about having a personal life for the first time in years, but Elana was off-limits.

Just because she’d forgiven him, didn’t mean she wanted to be friends with him. Or more.

Definitely not more.

“I’ll see you at work, Brock.” She stood and headed towards the door.

He wanted to call her back but forced himself to let her go. He needed to get over his fascination with Elana once and for all. She was a beautiful, successful woman. One he could admire from afar.

He’d find consolation in knowing that now that she’d forgiven him, she wouldn’t have to leave the ED and trauma nursing.

His house was dark when he pulled into the driveway, indicating Lacey and Tucker were sleeping.

A flash of guilt plagued him as he walked inside. He
should have called Lacey to find out how Tucker was doing. He was sure the baby would be fine once he had a couple of doses of antibiotics on board, and it wasn’t as if he’d had a lot of spare time, since the trauma bay had been jumping, but, still, he should have called.

His brother should be here too, dammit. He’d have to call Rufus Kingsley, the private investigator he’d hired, to see if the guy had made any progress on finding Joel.

Exhausted, he didn’t stop by Lacey’s room to look in on them. The house was blissfully silent. Carefully, so as not to wake them, he tiptoed past their room, heading for his.

He closed his eyes, hoping the turmoil in his brain would ease with some badly needed sleep.

But, instead, he dreamed about Elana. Only, this time, his subconscious hadn’t been satisfied with her gift of forgiveness. He’d wanted more. And when she melted into his arms, she wasn’t crying. She was gazing up at him in wonder, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him.

He was sweating when Tucker’s crying woke him up the next morning at six sharp. Groaning, he turned over and pulled his pillow over his head to drown out the sound. More than anything he wanted to go back to the steamy, erotic Elana of his dreams. Even if she was just a figment of his imagination.

But what if Lacey needed help? What if the baby really wasn’t doing any better?

The image of a ready and willing Elana evaporated, and he dragged himself upright and yanked on a pair of sweats.

Blinking the remains of sleep from his eyes, he made his way into the kitchen. Lacey glanced up when he walked in, and he considered it progress when she didn’t jump like a scared squirrel.

“Are the antibiotics staying down?” he asked, eyeing the crying baby propped on the table.

“Yesterday the medicine stayed down, but this morning he threw them up,” Lacey said, her eyes mirroring his exhaustion. Immediately he felt guilty about wanting to sleep in. Obviously rest and relaxation wasn’t an option for Lacey. “I wasn’t sure if I should try to get him to take another dose or not.”

“I wouldn’t,” he said, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Did he get up during the night?”

Lacey nodded, her expression still troubled. “I fed him right away so he wouldn’t wake you up.”

Considerate. Lacey must still feel as if she was imposing. She didn’t ask about Joel, though. He wondered if she feared his brother was gone for good.

“Give him some of the rehydration solution,” he suggested. “If he’s throwing up, he might be a bit dehydrated.”

“All right.” Lacey pulled herself up from the table to get a bottle of the sugar water. Brock had to admit, if Tucker didn’t start feeling better soon, they’d have to take him to the hospital for IV antibiotics.

He needed to get Elana out of his mind. She didn’t need him, but Lacey and Tucker did.

And Tucker’s health took priority over his useless dreams.

Brock called Rufus Kingsley, leaving a message for the PI to call him back. Rufus called back within the hour.

“I think I might know where your boy has gone,” he said in lieu of a greeting. “Does your uncle have a cabin in the middle of the woods in Marshfield, Wisconsin?”

“Yeah.” Why hadn’t he considered the possibility of the cabin? His uncle and his father used it for deer hunting, a sport Brock couldn’t get into, but Joel used to go up with them every year. “Do you think that’s where he is?”

“Possibility, although from what I hear, it’s not exactly a nice place to live year-round. April is still pretty cold at night; if he’s there, I’m sure he’s freezing his butt off. I’m heading there now and will let you know.”

Finally, progress on finding his brother. Elana’s words came back to him.
You can’t force him to be a father
. Muffling the voice in his head, he agreed, “Sounds good. I don’t know exactly where it is, but my uncle Joe will probably tell you. His number is in the book.”

“Already on it,” Rufus said. “I’ll keep you posted.”

“Thanks.” When Brock hung up, he saw Lacey had been listening in. “We might know where Joel is.”

“I heard.” The expression in her eyes didn’t change. Maybe she already knew that finding Joel didn’t mean the end to her problems. There was no guarantee he’d be back to help her with Tucker.

Brock turned his attention to Tucker. The baby wasn’t eating very well and had stopped taking the sugar water.

After trying without success to get the baby to take any form of nourishment, he gave up. Three hours had passed, and Tucker had only gotten worse instead of better.

“Lacey, we need to take Tucker to the hospital,” he said, trying to hide the extent of his concern. “I think he needs IV fluids and IV antibiotics.”

“Okay.” Her listless response wasn’t encouraging. But she rose to her feet and began dressing the baby in his quilted jacket before securing him safely in his infant car seat.

He drove Lacey and Tucker to Children’s Memorial Hospital, located opposite the Trinity Medical Center. Because of Tucker’s young age, the triage nurse didn’t make them wait but hustled them straight back to one of the empty ED rooms. Since Lacey was still looking frazzled, he took the baby into his arms, unzipping his outfit so he wouldn’t get too warm.

“What’s going on with this little guy?” Dr Barb Wynn asked as she came into the room.

He recognized the doctor from an emergency medicine conference in Las Vegas last year, even though he didn’t really know the woman personally. He was happy to see a familiar face. “He has bilateral ear infections but isn’t keeping the antibiotics down. I think he’s dehydrated and may need IV fluids.”

“So why did you come to see me if you have everything all figured out?” Barb teased, taking the baby so she could set him on the edge of the crib to examine him.

“Because you’re the pediatric expert, and I’m not,” Brock said dryly. “And as long as you’re looking at him, his lungs have sounded a bit congested as well; it’s possible there’s more going on than just a bilateral ear infection.”

“Hmm.” Barb Wynn listened to Tucker’s heart and
lungs. “I agree; I don’t like the way he sounds,” she admitted. “His ear infections may have already progressed to something more serious, like bronchitis or pneumonia. We’ll get a chest X-ray and some blood cultures. I’ll have one of the nurses come in to start an IV.”

Lacey made a small sound of protest but didn’t voice her concern. Brock belatedly introduced them. “Lacey is Tucker’s mom; my brother, Joel, is the father. Joel’s not available at the moment.”

“Nice to meet you, Lacey. Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of Tucker, I promise.”

Lacey’s attempt at a smile was truly pathetic. As Barb Wynn left to get her orders written, he tried to put her at ease, suspecting she was blaming herself for not being a good mother.

“This isn’t your fault, Lacey. Kids get sick all the time. Once Tucker gets a few doses of IV antibiotics, he’ll be much better, you’ll see.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” Lacey said in a quiet voice.

“Of course I’m right.” Brock glanced at his vibrating phone. “I’ll be right back, all right?”

Without waiting for her to respond, he opened his phone and walked out towards the waiting room so his cell phone wouldn’t interfere with any of the monitoring equipment.

“Hello?”

“Brock? Rufus here. I’m at your uncle’s cabin. The good news is that Joel has been here: the fire in the fireplace is fresh, and there are muddy footprints outside. The bad news is that he’s gone.”

Gone? How was that possible? He glanced back through the doorway leading into the emergency department and the small room where he’d left Tucker and Lacey. Even now, he could hear the baby crying, no doubt as he was getting poked with the IV.

Joel should be here, supporting Lacey. And Tucker.

Where on earth could his brother be?

Elana went into work early on Monday, a few hours before the start of her shift. She’d decided to come in early to complete some education modules that she hadn’t quite finished, since sitting around at home and thinking about Brock was driving her crazy.

She’d meant what she’d said about forgiving him for her own sake rather than his. But saying the words, and believing them deep down where it counted, was much more difficult. She’d wanted to find Chloe, since talking to her foster mother had always helped in the past, but Chloe, well on the road to recovery from her operation, was helping to set up a charity function at the local church. And Elana was scheduled to work.

Raine was in the arena, her eyes widening in surprise when she saw Elana. “What are you doing here? Did you get called in early too?”

“No, just thought I’d finish that disaster planning module that’s due the end of the quarter,” Elana said. She glanced around, hoping she wasn’t being too obvious. “Have you seen Brock?”

“Ah, yeah, in fact I have.” Raine’s expression was pained, and she grabbed Elana’s arm, tugging her into
the break room. “Look, Elana, I don’t know how to tell you this.”

Perplexed, she arched a brow. “Tell me what?”

“Brock’s here. In the cafeteria.” Raine’s eyes were grim. “I just saw him down there while I was getting lunch, and you need to know, he’s not alone. He’s sitting with—a woman.”

Elana’s heart stumbled in her chest. Brock was with another woman? She swallowed hard, feeling sick. She’d gotten the impression he wasn’t seeing anyone. That he’d given up on having a personal life at all. The stab of jealousy struck deep.

“She’s not at all the sort of woman I’d expect him to be with,” Raine continued. “She’s too young, rail thin, with stringy blonde hair. Pretty enough, I guess, if a guy is into the lost-waif type.”

Lacey. Irrational relief flooded her. Raine’s description fit Lacey to a T. “Was there a baby with them?”

Raine’s eyes rounded comically. “Oh, my God, you mean to tell me Dr Madison has a kid?” she squeaked.

“No, the baby is his brother’s child,” Elana explained quickly. “And I think the woman he’s with is Lacey, his brother’s girlfriend. Don’t you remember? They were at the clinic this past Saturday.”

Raine didn’t look entirely convinced. “No, I don’t remember. For your sake I hope you’re right.”

“Brock’s personal life isn’t any of my business,” she said, even though she knew she wasn’t being truthful. Because she did care if there was a special woman in Brock’s life. More than she should.

“Yeah, right.” Raine rolled her eyes.

Elana ignored her. “I think I’ll run down to check on them. It’s odd they’re here in the cafeteria.” She tried to sound nonchalant so Raine wouldn’t guess at how invested she was in Lacey’s situation. The poor girl had already been through so much.

A horrible thought hit hard. What if they’d found Joel? And he was right now a patient up in the ICU?

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Raine said.

Elana gave a distracted nod, turned and left. Thankfully she hadn’t swiped in yet to officially start work.

Bypassing the pokey elevator in favor of the stairs, she ran down to the cafeteria, not even realizing she was holding her breath as she scanned the crowd, looking for Brock. When she saw him sitting in a booth along the back wall, facing Lacey, she let out her pent-up breath in a rush.

She’d been right. He wasn’t with another woman. She frowned when she realized Tucker’s infant seat wasn’t anywhere in sight.

They were arguing, or, to be technically correct, Brock was arguing while Lacey just sat with her thin shoulders hunched defensively.

“Why are you being so stubborn?” he asked, clearly annoyed as he pushed a set of car keys across the table towards Lacey. “This is your chance to take a break, to do something for yourself. You know Tucker’s in good hands.”

Lacey’s eyes were downcast, as if she could barely hold Brock’s gaze. “I don’t need a break. I told you, I’m fine.”