by Radclyffe
“You were there,” Quinn pointed out. “You could’ve done what I was doing.”
“Maybe.” Honor saw again the empty heart with the ragged tear, the quick sure movements of Quinn’s hands, the skill that went beyond training to some inherent gift that only a few surgeons had. She wasn’t certain she could’ve done what Quinn had done; she wasn’t certain anyone could have. “Maybe.”
“I’ve been medically cleared to work, Honor.” Quinn struggled to keep her voice steady. “The hospital has approved my hiring.”
“Without me being involved!” Honor’s frustration broke through. “The hospital administrators don’t know what we do down here, and you know it.”
“Do you think I’d work if I thought I would compromise patient care?” Quinn’s eyes searched Honor’s. Do you really think so little of me? Do you distrust me that much?
“No.” Honor’s expression grew tender, and despite her resolve, she moved her hand to Quinn’s shoulder and stroked her softly. “I don’t think you would. But it’s not about what I think, Quinn.”
“What then?” Quinn’s voice was a whisper of longing and hurt. She was so tired of fighting this battle and of losing, over and over. Unthinkingly, she leaned into the comfort of Honor’s touch.
“I need to talk to my chief and the hospital attorneys, Quinn.” It was all Honor could do not to thread her fingers into Quinn’s thick dark hair and draw Quinn’s head to her breast. Quinn’s torment was palpable, and Honor’s heart ached for what Quinn had suffered and for what she herself now added to that pain. “Medico-legally, if...something...happens to you down here that could even remotely be construed as adversely affecting patient care, it would be a nightmare.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” Briefly, Quinn closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, despair swam close to the surface. “Why do you think I’m here and not at St. Michael’s?”
“What are you talking about?”
“I can’t get malpractice insurance to practice surgery.” Quinn rubbed her face with her good hand and took a deep breath. “As a trauma surgeon, I’d be alone in the OR. At night, and sometimes even during the day, there wouldn’t be another surgeon available to take over if I...became incapacitated.”
“Surgeons aren’t interchangeable,” Honor said softly, beginning to understand. If Quinn collapsed during a critical part of a procedure, the nurses and anesthesiologists in attendance would not be able to stand in for her. And other readily available surgeons were unlikely to have the training to take her place.
“Right. If I’ve got the aorta cross-clamped and my heart decides to quit, by the time they find someone else who could do what needed to be done, the patient could be dead.” Quinn sighed. “That’s why the law requires two heart surgeons for every case, and two general surgeons for a lot of straightforward abdominal cases that are a lot less complicated than trauma surgery. No insurance company will touch me.”
“But we always have at least three attendings present in the emergency room,” Honor stated. “And that’s why you could get coverage for this position.”
Quinn nodded. “In the ER, I’d always have immediate backup.”
“I’m still surprised the hospital hired you.”
“So am I, to tell you the truth. I’m qualified—”
Honor gave a short laugh, removing her hand from Quinn’s shoulder because she wanted to put her arm around her. “That is an understatement.”
“Thanks.” Smiling weakly, Quinn blew out her breath. “They must have figured it was financially advantageous, and some administrator was probably afraid I’d invoke the Americans with Disabilities Act if my medical condition was used as a reason not to hire me.”
“You could, you know,” Honor said quietly. “If I contest your hiring.”
“God, Honor.” Quinn frowned. “You can’t believe I’d do that.”
“No. No, I don’t think you would.” Honor sighed. “Quinn, I’m sorry. I still need to look into this whole situation.”
“I won’t fight you, Honor,” Quinn said just as quietly. “This is your ER. I appreciate your concerns.” Carefully, Quinn slid down off the table, gritting her teeth as the movement rekindled the pain in her shoulder. “I’ll accept whatever you decide.”
“Where are you going?” Honor asked sharply as Quinn started slowly toward the curtain and the hallway beyond.
“Home.” Her voice was dull with fatigue and resignation.
“Just how do you plan to get there?”
“I’ll call a cab.” Quinn reached for the curtain. “Thanks for taking care of me.”
“Damn it.” Quickly, Honor moved to Quinn’s side and grasped her right hand. “Wait just a minute, Maguire. Linda needs to get you into the shoulder immobilizer. Then I’ll take you home.”
“That’s not necessary.”
Gently, Honor turned Quinn to face her. Then, because she had to, had wanted to for hours, she lifted her hand and rested her palm tenderly against Quinn’s cheek. “I want to. Please.”
“Honor,” Quinn whispered in a voice filled with longing and desire.
Silence closed around them as they leaned into one another, their eyes locked. Quinn’s lids were heavy, her throat tight, as she watched Honor’s lips slowly part. A breath away, then not even that. Oh God, yes.
The curtain slid back, and Linda gave a small cry of surprise to find them just on the other side, and just about to kiss. “Uh...hey, hi! I’ve got that immobilizer.”
In a daze, Honor stepped back, her hand dropping to her side. Her heart pounded wildly. Oh my God. I was going to kiss her. This is crazy.
“Do you want me to get this on her?” Linda held up the soft padded sling and looked uncertainly from her friend to Quinn. Honor appeared confused, almost bewildered, and the expression on Quinn’s face was enough to make any woman melt.
Huskily, Honor said, “Yes. Go ahead.” Carefully, she stepped around Quinn and into the hall. “I’ll finish the paperwork, and we can get going.”
Quinn stood cooperatively while Linda adjusted the straps on the immobilizer, not even noticing the discomfort as her shoulder was manipulated. Her gaze was fixed on Honor, who leaned against the counter at the nurses’ station down the hall, writing in Quinn’s chart. At that moment, Quinn wasn’t thinking about her medical career, or her heart condition, or anything else in her life except the look in Honor’s eyes when their lips had almost touched. There had been tenderness, and compassion, and beneath the caring, desire. She shuddered, remembering.
“You okay, sweetie?” Linda asked as she stepped back, satisfied that Quinn’s shoulder was taken care of.
“No, I don’t think so.”
Linda followed Quinn’s gaze, and she laughed softly. “Everything is going to be fine.”
Quinn looked at her, uncertainty and disbelief on her face. “I don’t see how.”
“Just give it a little time.” She slid her arm around Quinn’s waist and gave her a quick hug. “Now I’m taking you home with me.”
“I’m okay,” Quinn assured her.
“Oh, I know that. But I’ll feel much better if you spend the night with us.”
“That’s very kind of you, but—”
“If you don’t stay with us, Honor is going to insist you be admitted for monitoring. Do you really want to go a round with her on that again?”
Quinn sighed wearily. “I’m not exactly at my fighting best right now. So thank you, I accept.”
“All set?” Honor asked as she rejoined them. She studied Quinn intently. Pale, but she looks steady. I wish she were coming home with me, instead of going with Linda. That thought startled her so much that her next words came out more sharply than she intended. “We should go.”
“Right,” Quinn said as Honor turned and walked away. Everything is going to be fine. Right.
Chapter Twelve
Where are you parked?” Linda asked, stopping by the side of her Volvo, which she had parked in the fire lane
in the ER turnaround.
Honor stopped walking a few feet away with Quinn by her side. “Just up ahead in my usual spot.”
Leaning against her open car door, Linda suggested, “Why don’t you come in and have a drink when you drop Quinn off? I think the party is pretty much over, so we can just sit around and unwind.”
“Thanks, but I think I’ll just pick Arly up and call it a day,” Honor said quietly. She was still reeling from the afternoon’s events, to say nothing of the near-kiss moments before. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.
“Phyllis took Arly home when I was leaving to come over here.”
“Then I’ll go on home and give Phyllis a break.”
“I can ride back with Linda, if you want,” Quinn said in a voice too low for Linda to hear. “I’ve already taken up enough of your time, and I appreciate everything you’ve already done.”
Even though the ER experience had been traumatic for Quinn, emotionally and physically, she knew that Honor’s intervention had truly made it as painless as possible. She couldn’t blame Honor for wanting to look into the legal ramifications of her medical situation, now that Honor was aware of it. And no matter what the eventual result of Honor’s inquiries, she was far from angry at her.
“No, I want to drive you,” Honor insisted. The afternoon had been an emotional roller coaster for her, first with the stress of handling Quinn’s shoulder injury in the field, then the shock of discovering Quinn’s much more serious underlying medical condition. Honor feared that if she just turned her back and walked away now, she’d drown in the feelings of helplessness, anxiety, and anger. She desperately wanted just a few moments alone in the car with Quinn when they wouldn’t be struggling with professional differences or emergencies. She was stunned to realize that that was the only thing she could think about. “I’m only a few houses away from Linda’s, so it’s really no trouble. If that’s okay?”
“It’s more than okay.” Quinn smiled, wanting nothing more in the world than to be with Honor—anywhere, for any reason. “I’d like very much to go with you. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Honor smiled softly at Quinn’s impeccable manners even in moments of tension. “Your mama sure did a good job of raising you.”
“She’d be pleased to hear that,” Quinn said seriously. Then she grinned. “There were quite a few times when I was growing up that I’m pretty sure she had her doubts.”
“Now why do I find that completely believable?” Laughing, suddenly feeling her spirits lift, Honor waved goodbye to Linda, led the way to her Subaru, and held the passenger-side door open for Quinn. Automatically, she slid her arm around Quinn’s waist to steady her while she climbed in, and it was then that she felt a faint tingling in her arm. At the same time, Quinn shivered and gave a small gasp.
The sensation was so fleeting that Honor might have ignored it if she hadn’t already been so sensitized to the situation. She recognized immediately that the slight buzz she’d experienced was Quinn’s cardiac defibrillator firing. The focal electrical discharge from the internal defibrillator was not painful, but the current was large enough for someone in direct contact with Quinn to feel it.
“Quinn?” Honor consciously kept her tone light, although her own heart had begun racing.
“I’m all right.” Quinn blinked, then grimaced faintly. God, just what I didn’t need to happen now!
“Is that the first time it’s gone off since the accident this afternoon?” Honor asked intently, studying Quinn’s face.
“Yes.” Quinn said grimly. “The last time was two days ago, when I was in the gym. Fortunately, Mandy thought it was static electricity, so I didn’t need to explain.”
Honor’s eyes narrowed. “Mandy was touching you?”
Surprised by the edge in Honor’s tone, Quinn lifted a shoulder and rolled her eyes. “She’s got wandering hands.”
No kidding. Keeping her arm around Quinn until she was situated in the front seat, Honor bit back a retort and concentrated on what mattered. “Were you symptomatic that time at the gym?”
“I had a little irregularity then, but not this time.” Quinn brushed her fingers over the top of Honor’s hand as Honor withdrew her arm. “Thanks. I’m absolutely okay now.”
“Did you have any pain just now?”
“No. Honor, I’m fine.”
“Dizziness? Anything at all?”
Quinn shook her head. “No. Nothing. I promise.”
“Good. That’s good.” Honor’s pulse continued to pound, but Quinn seemed fine, and that helped quell her anxiety. Nevertheless, it concerned her that the defibrillator had discharged, indicating that Quinn’s cardiac rhythm was erratic. “I don’t like it triggering this frequently, Quinn.”
“About twenty percent of the time it’s firing unnecessarily.” Quinn sighed. “Dan Caroli, my cardiologist, says it’s inconvenient, but nothing to worry about. That’s probably all it was this time.”
“Is it painful, when it happens?” Honor stood with her forearm braced against the top of the car, leaning in slightly so that she could study Quinn’s face. She hated to think of her in pain.
“Not really. It surprises me, and gives me a bit of a jolt, but it’s over pretty fast.” She smiled reassuringly, concerned by the worry in Honor’s eyes. “I’m okay. Really.”
“Mmm. I know,” Honor murmured. She rested her fingers against Quinn’s shoulder, rubbing her lightly in small circles. “I want you to stay with me tonight.”
Quinn’s eyes grew round and her lips parted in surprise. “I’m sorry?”
Honor smiled gently. “I want you to stay at my house, not Linda’s. I’m sure you’re absolutely fine, but I’m a little bit worried that your defibrillator fired so soon after the accident. You hit your left shoulder very hard, and the leads go right through that area.”
“It’s a pretty sturdy device, Honor,” Quinn pointed out. “You know, Dick Cheney has one, and he got to keep his job.”
“He has friends in high places.” Honor closed the door, walked to the other side, and slid behind the wheel. “But you’re a lot more important than Dick Cheney. So, if you start having more irregularity, I want to be close by. Linda’s terrific, and supremely competent.” She started the engine, looked over her shoulder, and backed out of her parking place. “But I’m the boss, remember?”
“I got that.” Quinn leaned back, tired and sore. The truth was, she wanted to go home with Honor. She didn’t want to be alone, not because she was worried about her heart or because her shoulder hurt like hell. She just wanted to be where Honor was, because she felt things when she was around Honor that she’d never felt around any other woman. She liked to look at her, to listen to her voice, to watch her with her child. She liked the fleeting caresses that Honor wasn’t even aware of bestowing, and the precious moments when Honor forgot herself and let her touch linger. And most of all, she liked the way Honor’s lips had parted in that instant before they had almost kissed. “Believe me, I know you’re the boss.” She laughed. “I got that, loud and clear.”
“Good. Then no arguing.” Honor reached over and patted Quinn’s knee. “Thanks, Quinn. It will save me a lot of worrying if you’re somewhere I can see you.”
“I appreciate your concern, really. Thank you.”
Honor stared straight ahead, knowing that it was much more than concern and much more than her sense of professional responsibility. If there was even the remotest chance that Quinn could develop a problem, she wanted to be the one to take care of her. And more than that, she enjoyed the way she felt when Quinn was around. She enjoyed the undercurrent of affection and excitement, and, unexpectedly, the sense of easy companionship.
Almost all of her personal time was spent either with Phyllis and Arly, both of whom she loved more than life, or her good friends Linda and Robin. But she had not had the company of a woman whom she admired and found as intriguing as Quinn for years. She hadn’t thought she’d wanted it, or needed it, or missed it. In the
last few days, though, she had discovered that she did.
When she turned onto the residential street where she, Linda, and Robin lived, Honor tooted her horn and pulled up alongside Linda’s car. Linda rolled down her window, and Honor motioned for Quinn to do the same.
Leaning across Quinn to see Linda, Honor called out Quinn’s window, “I’m taking Quinn to my house.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yes—just a slight change in plans.”
Linda looked surprised as well as curious, but just nodded. “Okay. If you need anything, call us. We’ll be home. Take care of your shoulder, Quinn.”
“Will do,” Quinn replied. “Thanks for the help earlier.”
“No problem, sweetie. I’ll talk to you both tomorrow.”
With that, Linda drove on and Honor followed her for half a block and then turned into her driveway. She swiveled on the seat after shutting off the engine and once again rested her hand gently on Quinn’s thigh. “I’m just going to tell Arly and Phyllis that you’re staying with us because of your shoulder. They don’t need to know about the other, okay?”
“Thanks.” Quinn hesitated, then placed her hand over Honor’s. “Are you sure it will be all right with Phyllis if I stay?”
Honor raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I...uh...wouldn’t want her to get the wrong idea.”
“And what idea would that be, Quinn?” Honor asked softly, unconsciously turning her hand so that their palms met. When their fingers intertwined, she didn’t move hers away.
“You were married to her daughter, weren’t you?”
Honor gasped, startled by the question and caught off guard by the thousand images of Terry that instantly flew through her mind. Her hand trembled against Quinn’s. “Yes.”
“You’re still wearing her ring.”
“Yes.” Honor’s voice came out a whisper.
“I wouldn’t want Phyllis...or you...to think I don’t respect that.”