The Surgeon's New-Year Wedding Wish (12 page)

“Danny really has been making progress with his friends, and I think for the first time in a long time he’s finding his lack of speech a barrier. A few times I’ve
caught him looking very frustrated, as if he wanted to blurt something out.”

A shiver of excitement raced through him. “That’s good news.”

“Yes. As I’ve said before, Danny will speak again when he’s ready. You’re raising a very well-adjusted child. Whatever you’re doing,” she added with a gentle smile, “keep it up.”

Like making love with Leila? No, she meant with Danny. Getting Danny involved more with his classmates. Like the sledding trip and this most recent sleepover. Being home more with his son. Keeping their small family intact. “I will.”

“Good. We’ll start back up with his twice-a-week schedule on Tuesdays and Thursdays next week.”

“All right.” Quinn rose to his feet and held out a hand. “Thanks, Dr. Adams, for everything.”

She shook her head as she took his hand in a firm grip. “Don’t thank me yet, not until Danny’s started talking.”

After his discussion with Nancy Adams, Quinn was convinced Danny would start talking again very soon.

He could be patient. And no matter what, he didn’t want to give Danny any setbacks. He didn’t dare introduce anything new into their lives at this point.

“Ready for lunch?” he asked, when he returned to the waiting room to pick up Danny. “We can go to whichever fast-food restaurant you want.”

Mr. Burger?
Danny asked.

“Sure. Why not?” Quinn knew the local burger joint was his son’s favorite mostly because of the giant indoor play area.

Because the kids were all off school this week, the place was packed. He found a seat near the play area, so he could keep an eye on Danny, who scoffed his food in record time so he’d have time to hang out in the play area.

Quinn stared at his burger, feeling nauseous again. He put a hand to his head, surprised to find he was sweating. What in the heck was wrong with him? Losing sleep had never made him feel this lousy.

Whatever it was, he needed to get home, so he wouldn’t be sick in front of Danny. He found the restroom and threw up the bit of food he’d managed to get down. After a few minutes he went back out to the play area to look for his son. The room swam dizzily, forcing him to grab on to the back of the chair to keep his balance. Light-headed, he blinked, locking his knees to stay upright.

He was damned if he’d fall on his face here amidst the horde of parents, a few of whom were glancing at him with curiosity, but he needed to get home. Soon.

“Danny?” he called, forcing his voice to carry over the noise. “Come on, we need to get going.”

Danny’s face fell, but he eventually headed over to stand by his father.

Quinn was sweating profusely now, his clothes sticking uncomfortably to his skin. He didn’t understand what was wrong. He never got sick. Ever. He led Danny outside to his car, praying he’d find the strength to drive home.

He gripped the steering wheel in his sweaty hands and for a moment considered calling Leila to come and get them. No, that wasn’t fair. Wasn’t he the one who’d
insisted they had no future? And now he wanted her help? He couldn’t have it both ways.

Turning on the car engine, he squinted through the windshield and decided the hospital was closer. His stomach lurched again. He was sick. He might have caught Delores’s flu bug. Maybe he just needed a liter or two of IV fluids to feel better.

He had to blink several times to keep the road in focus as he drove the short couple of blocks to the hospital. He was very careful, not wanting to cause an accident yet feeling like his brain was becoming dissociated from his body.

“Danny, we need to stop here at the hospital for a minute,” he said, pulling up to the entrance of the ED. His voice sounded far away, as if he were at the other end of a long tunnel. “I need some medicine. I think I have the flu.”

He opened his car door and pushed himself upright. His knees buckled and his head spun. He grabbed the car door to hold himself upright so he wouldn’t fall face-first into the slush.

He felt Danny scramble out of the car, hobbling next to him with his crutches. He wanted to reassure his son he was all right, but he couldn’t see Danny. Everything was blurry.

He wasn’t sick. He didn’t ever get sick. What in the hell was going on? He told himself to walk, to get inside the hospital, out of the cold, but his legs wouldn’t obey. Instead, he found himself sliding downward as his muscles gave away like flimsy straw.

He dropped his chin to his chest, fighting off a wave of darkness. He couldn’t pass out. He couldn’t.

Dammit, don’t do this, he told himself. Get up. Don’t scare Danny.

Don’t scare Danny!

With a herculean effort, he staggered to his feet. He took a few steps, but then leaned heavily against the hood of his car. The ED was only a few feet away, but his gaze kept fading out and all too soon he found himself sliding down to the ground once again.

“Daddy?” He thought he was imagining his son’s voice. But then it came again, louder, a shrill cry, just as darkness threatened.

“Daddy! Help! Somebody help my daddy!”

“D
ADDY
!” The sound of a child’s cry distracted Leila from her patient. Then she heard the voice again, louder. “Somebody help my daddy!”

The stab wound on her patient wasn’t too serious or life-threatening, so she quickly slapped a sterile dressing over the area to keep it clean before stripping off her gloves and striding to the ED entranceway with Melanie, one of the ED nurses, following close behind.

“Danny?” She stared in surprise, hardly able to believe the boy calling for help was actually Danny Torres. But then she noticed the car sitting with its doors open and the crumpled figure of Quinn lying next to it.

“Melanie, get a stretcher. Quick!” Leila hurried to Quinn, kneeling beside him and feeling for a pulse. Quinn’s skin was cool and clammy, but the reassuring beat of his heart, even if it was beating far too fast, gave her hope. She strove to hide the extent of her panicky fear. “Quinn? Can you hear me?”

“Danny,” he whispered. His eyes were still closed so she couldn’t tell if he’d heard her or if he was confused and delirious.

“Danny is here.” She glanced up and met Danny’s wide, frightened gaze. She gestured for him to come closer. “Danny’s here and he’s fine.”

Actually, Danny didn’t look fine. He looked pale and sick, like his father. He was standing without his crutches and she tugged him close to her side, giving him a reassuring hug. As much as she wanted to ask him to speak, like he had when he’d called out for help, she didn’t want to push the issue either.

“Put your hand on his arm, Danny,” she said in a low voice. “Let him know you’re here.”

Danny awkwardly lowered himself to the ground, doing what she asked, staying near his father until Melanie arrived with the stretcher and several more of the ED staff, including Jadon Reichert, who was the ED attending physician in charge. As everyone crowded around Quinn, she picked Danny up, moving him out of the way so they could lift Quinn onto the stretcher.

Quinn didn’t open his eyes, even when they’d wheeled him inside. Leila fetched his crutches from the car and kept Danny with her as they followed Quinn to the nearest trauma bay. There was no sign of her stab-wound patient. She thought he must have been moved to the arena.

“Get me a set of vitals and start a peripheral IV,” Jadon snapped, his tension evident as he glanced around the room. “We also need a baseline set of labs. Does anyone know what happened before he fell?”

A history of signs and symptoms would be helpful, but with Danny not talking, she wasn’t sure they’d get anything helpful. But she’d seen Quinn early that morning. Obviously, this wasn’t the time to worry about
gossip or her reputation. Leila swallowed hard and forced herself to speak up. “I spent the night with Quinn last night. He seemed fine when he left early this morning.”

Jadon’s gaze didn’t register shock or amusement, and she was thankful her personal life wasn’t his prime concern at the moment. Instead, he looked upset. “If he was fine this morning, what in the heck happened between then and now?”

Danny’s hand slid into hers, his fingers tightening around hers. She glanced down at him in surprise. “Danny? Do you know what happened? Did your dad say anything before he fell?”

There was a long pause as Danny stared up at her imploringly, as if he wanted to talk but couldn’t. Helplessly, Leila wondered if there was a sign language interpreter they could get hold of. They needed to know what, if anything, Danny knew. Without having information about Quinn’s signs and symptoms, they didn’t have a clue how to diagnose or treat him.

“We need a sign language interpreter,” she said to Melanie. “Can you get hold of one stat?”

Melanie nodded, heading for the nearest phone.

“He said he needed medicine.” Danny’s voice was so quiet Leila had to bend closer to hear him.

“He said he needed medicine?” she asked with a puzzled frown, not sure if she’d heard the boy correctly.

He nodded.

She held his gaze with hers, smiling at him reassuringly. “That’s great, Danny. That helps us out. Do you know what medicine your dad takes?”

Danny looked distressed as he shook his head. “He said he thought he had flu.”

“Flu?” Then it hit her. Of course, Dolores had been sick the day before. Only in her case, being so dehydrated had caused a mild heart attack.

“He might have flu,” she said to Jadon. “Remember how Danny’s Aunt Delores came in yesterday with the same sort of symptoms? And we’ve been hearing for weeks that the flu strain hitting the public this year is one of the worst ever.”

“Blood pressure is low, 95 over 44, and his pulse is tachy at 118,” Susan, the other trauma nurse, announced.

“Open up those IV fluids,” Jadon said. “And get him connected to the heart monitor. Let’s make sure he’s not throwing any funky heartbeats. I want to know the results of his electrolytes now.”

“I’ll get them,” Melanie said, picking up the receiver from where she’d set it down after Danny had started talking. Leila could hear her telling the lab tech she wanted the electrolyte results now, not in five minutes.
Now
.

“Thanks for telling us what your dad said, Danny,” Leila said, crouching down so she was at eye level with Quinn’s son. She flashed him a broad smile. “With your help we know exactly what to do to make your dad feel better.”

“Will he wake up?” Danny asked, his tone barely above a whisper.

Her heart clenched for this small boy, who’d undoubtedly gone through hell thinking the worst when his father had collapsed on the ground. Even if the shock
had helped him find his voice, remnants of fear still haunted his dark eyes.

“Yes, Danny. I think your dad is going to be fine.” At least, she hoped so. Unless there was some medication that Quinn had been taking that they didn’t know about? She gave Danny a gentle, reassuring hug and then stood up.

“See if Quinn has a medical record on file,” Leila said to Melanie. “Hopefully we’ll find out what medications, if any, he’s on.” She knew nothing about Quinn’s past medical history.

“Okay, but first I have his electrolyte results. His potassium is low at 2.6 and the chloride is low, too. Even his magnesium is low.”

“Hang twenty milieqivalents of potassium chloride and add another twenty to his liter of IV fluids.” Jadon snapped orders like a drill sergeant, but no one seemed to mind. “Give him a second dose of potassium before the magnesium supplement. Keep an eye on those premature ventricular beats and let me know if he has more than 16 a minute.”

“Dr. Ross?” Leila glanced at Melanie. “There are no medical records for Dr. Torres on file.”

Damn. Did that mean Quinn didn’t have any previous medical problems? Or that he just hadn’t used Cedar Bluff Hospital, the clinic or the pharmacy to renew his prescriptions? He’d only been in Cedar Bluff for a month or maybe a little longer. He may not have taken the time to transfer his prescriptions to the hospital pharmacy. “Okay, thanks for checking.”

At that moment Quinn stirred. He let out a low groan and opened his eyes, then shut them again, turning away
from the bright overhead lights. “Tell me I’m not in the ED,” he said in a low, strangled voice.

Her lips twitched with relief. Waking up in the emergency department where you worked was every physician’s worst nightmare.

“Okay, I won’t tell you,” Jadon said, his tense expression easing a bit. “Maybe you’d like to tell us what happened?”

“Where’s Danny?” True to form, Quinn’s attention quickly shifted to his son.

“Danny’s right here,” Leila said, stepping forward, bringing Danny with her. She glanced down at Danny with a reassuring smile. “Danny was a huge help. He told us you felt like you had flu and that you needed some medication.”

Quinn’s eyes snapped open, even if his gaze didn’t seem entirely focused as he swiveled his head in her direction. “He did?”

Her smile was broad. “Yes, he did. But you need to clue us in here, Quinn. We’re flying a little blind. Exactly what medication do you need?”

“No meds, I meant IV fluids. Whatever you’ve given me is working. I’m already feeling better.” He looked at his son. “Danny? How are you? Are you doing all right?”

She tried to nudge Danny closer to Quinn’s stretcher, but he leaned on his crutches, glued to her side. The boy nodded in response to his father’s question and she could tell Quinn was disappointed he didn’t say anything.

She frowned and tried to warn Quinn with her gaze
not to make a big deal about it. “I’ll keep Danny with me for a while, until you’re feeling better.”

Quinn’s eyes widened with alarm. “No!” At her shocked expression he hastened to add, “I mean, I want him to stay here. With me.”

“Sure. I understand.” She hid her flash of disappointment, not sure why Quinn was being so protective about Danny, especially after the boy had made huge strides by talking, not just once during the height of the emergency when he’d called for help but then again a second time when they’d needed to know what was wrong with Quinn. Glancing down at Danny, who looked far less afraid now that his dad was awake and talking, she said, “Danny, your dad will get to go home soon, but not until the second bag of IV fluid is empty. Do you want to sit on a chair next to the stretcher for a while?”

Danny looked at Leila and then back at his dad. “Could I play games on your computer instead?” he asked.

There was a moment of shocked silence, and then Quinn smiled, his eyes suspiciously bright as he pushed himself upright and swung his legs over the edge of the cart. “Get me a wheelchair,” he demanded, swaying slightly as he struggled to stay upright. “Danny wants to play computer games in my office. I can get the rest of my IV fluids in there just as easily as lying here.”

She was happy for Quinn. Really truly, happy for him. Clearly Danny’s talking hadn’t been just a passing phase. He was honestly doing better, seeming to have found his voice after all this time.

Jadon looked like he wanted to protest about Quinn
getting up, but the determined expression on Quinn’s face must have made him realize it would be futile.

She knew she still had her stab-wound patient to return to, but couldn’t help staring after them as Quinn and Danny made their way to Quinn’s office, towing Quinn’s IV pole.

There was no reason to be upset that they’d shut her out. Yet hadn’t the night she and Quinn spent together meant anything? Obviously not to Quinn. The sharp edge of disappointment sliced at her heart as she headed into the arena.

Quinn still felt dizzy but he ignored the sensation, far too elated over Danny talking to care about himself.

His son had spoken. Not just once, but apparently several times. He’d never tire of hearing the sweet sound of Danny’s voice.

He tried hard to hide his overwhelming joy and thankfulness as he wheeled along beside Danny. He was too afraid to make a big deal about Danny talking, much as he wanted to.

Instinctively, he knew that he should simply act as if Danny talking wasn’t a major milestone. He could hear Nancy Adam’s voice in the back of his mind, saying, “Keep doing whatever you’re doing.”

The move to Cedar Bluff had been the best decision he’d made. Nancy and the people of the town, including his son’s classmates Charlie and Ben, had been wonderful in making them feel at home. Never once had Danny’s classmates made fun of him for not talking.

Would Danny keep talking now that he’d started? A sudden doubt made his stomach clench. What if some
thing traumatic happened, sending Danny back into silent mode?

No, don’t borrow trouble, he told himself. Danny would continue to talk if he needed to. Hadn’t Nancy claimed that Danny was expressing frustration at his limited ability to communicate? Surely he’d keep talking now that he’d started.

Quinn swallowed hard as he leaned over to log onto the computer. Sitting back, he gave Danny room to edge onto his chair, the walking cast on his leg making the movement awkward. He pulled the rolling chair as close to the computer as he could, so Danny could reach the keyboard.

“So what game are you going to play?” he asked, keeping his tone casual. He tried to hide how weak he still felt.

Danny lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug, his attention on the screen. He tried not to panic that Danny might be going back to his old ways. Just because Danny had started speaking, it didn’t mean his son would suddenly become loquacious.

“This one,” Danny finally said, double-clicking on the spider solitaire game.

His shoulders relaxed and Quinn couldn’t help but smile. He still felt lousy, the flu bug still wreaking havoc in his bloodstream, but he wasn’t about to complain. Not when he’d been given the gift of his son’s speech.

He’d never complain again. He felt bad that he’d scared his son, but in the end things had worked out well. The humiliation of succumbing to flu in the first place and falling flat on his face in the parking lot was well worth it if Danny would keep talking.

As Danny played the game, Quinn’s thoughts went back to Leila. He’d probably overreacted a bit when she’d offered to watch over Danny while he waited for his IV fluids to finish. Seeing Danny standing too close to Leila had freaked him out. He’d loved every minute of the night they’d spent together, but he didn’t want to change anything else that might affect Danny.

Keep doing whatever it is you’re doing.

He was going to concentrate on being a good father. On establishing a family-like atmosphere with Delores and Danny. He certainly wasn’t going to add something as dramatic as a new woman into the picture.

He’d have to end his affair with Leila. Sure, maybe they could keep meeting in secret, but he knew that seeing her constantly in the ED would make things difficult. Besides, meeting only in secret wasn’t fair to her.

The idea of never making love to her again made him feel as though a rock was pressing on his chest. He’d miss her. Very much. He still wanted her. But his needs weren’t important. He simply couldn’t afford to upset Danny.

Nothing was more important than his son.

Danny let out a disgusted sigh when he lost the game.

“Try again,” Quinn advised. “We have a little more time yet before my IV fluids will be finished.”