A Bride to Redeem Him

by Charlotte Hawkes

  “If you’d simply shipped it, you wouldn’t have hit bad weather, wouldn’t have missed your connection, wouldn’t have had to deal with airport security and wouldn’t have missed your first day, setting back the schedule for the whole week. It seems apparent that you’re not cut out for this kind of work.”

  The arrogant tone, the sarcastically raised dark eyebrow, the scorn on his face cut through her horrified paralysis. Yes, it was true, she might not be cut out for any of the things she’d striven so hard to be excellent at. She wasn’t like him and all the others who came from their hoity-toity privileged backgrounds, people who’d had every advantage handed to them with white gloves and smiles, showered with accolades and money and a golden path laid out for them to become physicians.

  She might be leagues below him in every way but, if nothing else, her pathetic history had at least given her grit and bravado. Living in rough neighborhoods around even rougher people had taught her that, when pushed, you’d better push back or you’d end up rubbed into the floor. She wasn’t about to let him talk to her that way, in front of their patient and the rest of the small surgical staff, whether she deserved it or not.

  “For your information, this is my ninth mission trip, Dr. Ferrera. I’m not a newbie. I know the circumstances we’re dealing with here. But if we can save even one life by having a monitor, I was damned well going to make that happen.” She grabbed the mask and IV with shaking hands to show him it was time to stop talking and get to work. “I’m no longer the green anesthesiologist I was when we last worked together. Since your insults and criticism are only delaying the surgery on this boy even longer, I suggest we get to it.”

  Dark eyes slashed across her like a whip before he turned to the patient and crew. “Since Dr. Richards obviously hasn’t had a chance to study our surgery lineup today, I’ll have to go over it again. We have an atrial septal defect, with the hole thankfully small. Get him hooked up to the all-important monitor while Dr. Richards gets the gases ready. As soon as he’s asleep and ready, I’ll get started.”

  Everyone got to work. Daniel’s scowl and his stiff professional tone changed completely as he leaned over the little boy, speaking softly and melodically in Spanish. Whatever he said actually made the child smile, and though Annabelle didn’t want to feel the squishiness in her heart at how beautifully he was reassuring their young patient, it happened anyway.

  How could the man be such a chameleon? A total autocratic jerk one minute, and a gentle, caring doctor the next? It didn’t matter, really. Neither of them would ever get past what had happened five years ago, and his obviously negative convictions about her skills. The thought of having to work with him for two entire weeks made her stomach churn. Before she’d even started her first surgery, she found herself hoping it was the fastest two-week mission trip in history.

  But with no way to actually warp time to make that happen, she would focus on their patient and her job. She prepared to connect the two anesthetic gases to the small clear mask, then leaned over to show it to the child. Trying to explain it to him in her halting Spanish, she realized the stress of facing Daniel Ferrera seemed to have obliterated from her brain the few words she did know in the other language. With the surgery needing to start pronto, she knew that swallowing her pride was the right thing to do, and turned to her friend Karina. “Can you tell him I’m going to put the mask over his nose and mouth, and he’ll go to dreamland for a while?”

  Before Karina could say a word, Daniel Ferrera leaned over the patient again, speaking more of that lovely, lilting Spanish, and mere seconds after Annabelle placed the mask on his face, the boy’s eyes were closed. Grateful that she’d done this enough times that her shakiness evaporated as she worked through the steps, Annabelle worked to connect the IV lines to his arms and legs, then the final, central line to his neck connecting directly to his heart. A necessary step of stunning the heart before the surgery could begin. “Pressure?”

  “Monitor shows we have railroad tracks so all okay,” Jennifer said.

  Annabelle glanced at the monitor, glad to have it for confirmation, no matter what Daniel Ferrera thought about it. “Good.” She concentrated on inserting a breathing tube, relieved that the boy’s mouth opened wide enough for it to go in easily. “Neuromuscular blockade set. We have a one airway, so he’s breathing manually.”

  All she got was a nod from Daniel Ferrera before he got to work. Just as she’d remembered from the last time she’d watched him perform a delicate operation, he was steady, confident and precise. Not a single bobble or pause, just an even pace and periodic questions to the support crew and her as they monitored the patient. But there was no question that the tone of voice he used when he talked to her was completely different than the one he used with everyone else. Abrupt and clipped, showing loud and clear that he was still annoyed.

  What was with the man that he couldn’t just let things go? It was clear nothing had changed from five years ago. Didn’t he believe people deserved a second chance after a mistake? Even if that mistake had been a terrible one?

  For the next several hours, the surgery went smoothly, the whole team working together seamlessly without a hitch.

  “That’s a wrap.” Daniel said, finally leaning back and running his finger down the closed incision. “Time for epinephrine to get the heart working again, then we’ll wake him, Dr. Richards.”

  * * *

  Her eyes lifted to briefly meet his, and if that icy blue could have physically stabbed him, he had a feeling she would have been glad. One of the many personality traits he disliked in medical professionals was if they tried to pass the buck when something went wrong. He did everything he could to make sure every surgery went perfectly, but when he made an error, or an error was made by someone he was supervising, he owned it.

  Which Annabelle Richards should do, as far as he was concerned. Maybe her lateness hadn’t caused catastrophic damage, but they very well might not be able to perform surgery on all the patients they had scheduled today without everyone working into the late hours. Her tardiness wasn’t fair to any of their small patients who might have to wait until the next visit, or to the hardworking staff at this hospital who were donating their time to this cause.

  “Are you prepared to work late tonight, if we have to, Dr. Richards? You look a little tired from your stressful travels.”

  “How sweet of you to worry about me, Dr. Ferrera,” she said in a sarcastic tone. “No need, though. I may look like a hag, but I’m not tired at all. I’ll work as late as is needed.”

  “Good. Because now we’re more than a day behind schedule, as you know.”

  “I do know.” A near snarl curled her lip as she turned back to the equipment.

  Hag? Now, that was a word no one could ever apply to Annabelle Richards, curled lip or not. Daniel studied the mutinous expression on her face as she diligently avoided looking at him, and couldn’t deny that, for some reason, her take-no-prisoners attitude and spunk was as appealing as the sweet smile in her blue eyes and on her lush lips that appeared as she turned to their small patient. He couldn’t deny that, for a split second, thoughts of what it would feel like to kiss that seductive mouth had scorched his brain just as it had the first time he’d seen her five years ago. It annoyed the hell out of him.

  Gorgeous, sexy and sassy didn’t have anything to do with good medical skills, and he figured that her beauty had probably helped her advance in her career when she shouldn’t have. When he’d blocked her getting a permanent position five years ago at the hospital where he still worked, two of the upper-level hospital administrators had stepped in and gone to bat for her. He still believed her good looks, with serious curves in all the right places, had been part of why they’d wanted to keep her around.

  Regardless, Daniel was the best cardiac surgeon at the hospital, and when he’d stated with no room for discussion that he’d never work with her again, they’
d known he’d meant it. No one wanted to have to dance around that kind of scheduling nightmare, so off she’d gone in a matter of weeks.

  Had he thought about her a few times afterward? For whatever reason, he couldn’t deny that he had. For a few months after she’d left, when he’d closed his eyes at night, he’d sometimes seen her face and lips. Her silky blond hair falling to her shoulders in soft waves. That body of hers, which any man would salivate over. He didn’t think the strangeness of his random thoughts about her were from any guilt over getting her fired. No, he’d figured it must be a sign that he’d been working too hard. Needed to let off steam with someone he knew was interested in only that and not any other kind of relationship, since he could never offer anything long term.

  Yes, he’d thought about Annabelle Richards, but had he ever regretted blocking her from getting the permanent position? Not for one second. There was no room for error in surgery. He knew that better than anyone, and on the rare occasions he got pushback from someone on his medical team for his perfectionist attitudes, he thought of his brother and stood his ground.

  His brother’s cardiac surgeon simply hadn’t been careful enough during the delicate surgery he’d needed, and if he had been, Gabriel would still be here, joking with Daniel, pushing the boundaries with their parents and grandparents, living his life at one hundred percent velocity like he always had until the day he’d died.

  The loss had torn Daniel up. Had left a painful, gaping hole in his family, and he had no desire to ever forget how that felt.

  Remembering his brother gave him the strength and resolution to be the kind of surgeon he had to be. To insist that everyone be on top of their game for every single patient. Every single time. He and his team owed it to his patients, and to the people who loved them, to give every one of them the best possible care available, and that included the nursing staff and the anesthesiologist.

  The patient Dr. Annabelle Richards had nearly killed five years ago during surgery had suffered from exactly the same heart condition as Gabriel. No way had he wanted her to work as the anesthesiologist on his team.

  And yet here she was. So what was he going to do about it? Mission hospital or not, he owed every single patient the best surgical outcome he could obtain with the tools that he had at hand. Dr. Annabelle Richards would not be the person who lowered that standard.

  Daniel yanked down his surgical mask, gave their patient one more careful check over, asked him if he felt okay, and reassured him that he’d be visiting with him in Recovery when he felt better. Stripping off his gloves, he moved out of the OR to see the next patient coming in. He checked the diagnostic work and the seriousness of the six-month-old’s situation. Stuck his head into the small, spartan waiting room crammed with patients before talking with the local woman juggling the surgery schedule to see how many children they could see that day.

  Whoever the anesthesiologist was on each mission, they often accompanied him on these quick rounds. But Dr. Richards had chosen to stay back in the OR, probably to tinker with her all-important monitor.

  Having her work as anesthesiologist for the next few days’ surgeries was the only option to ensure that everyone on the docket got taken care of. But as soon as he had a moment free? He’d be looking for a replacement for Annabelle Richards.

  Copyright © 2018 by Robin Gianakopoulos

  ISBN-13: 9781488079726

  A Bride to Redeem Him

  First North American Publication 2018

  Copyright © 2018 by Charlotte Hawkes

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