Part of her wanted to hug him again, to erase those physical hurts with a soft and gentle touch. The other part of her wanted to rail at him, ask if his injuries had been worth those extra duties he’d assumed and the additional trips he’d taken on behalf of his family’s charitable organization.
More importantly, though, she wanted to lock herself in the restroom so she could cry because, however illogical it seemed, she somehow felt responsible—not for the crash itself, or even for this particularly fateful international jaunt, but for sending him into the ever-eager arms of the Montgomery Medical Foundation. Had she not rejected his comfort after their adoption had fallen through, he wouldn’t have found his purpose in his work. With the schedule he’d set for himself, both before their separation and after, it was almost amazing that disaster hadn’t struck before now.
Regardless of where she laid blame or how she took responsibility, what mattered most for now was the state of Gabe’s health, not rehashing the mistakes or hurts of the past.
“Leah?”
Hearing her name, she pulled her thoughts together and met Jeff’s questioning gaze. He was obviously reading more into her inattentiveness than she wanted.
“Maybe you should take a break,” he suggested softly.
She was tempted to take his advice, but she’d never deserted a patient before and she wouldn’t start now. She shook her head and squared her shoulders. “I’m fine. Really.”
Jeff simply shrugged, then listened to Gabe’s chest sounds as he spoke. “You still have some nasty injuries. What did you do? Hit every tree in the jungle?”
“It seemed like it,” Gabe mentioned ruefully. “I picked up about half of my bruises and bumps during the crash. Splitting my leg open came later.”
“What happened?”
“In regard to my leg or the crash itself?”
“Both.”
Curious about the details surrounding his experience, Leah listened closely.
“Minutes before we crashed, there was a thump, then an engine sputtered, and Ramon yelled something about birds. The next thing I knew, we were going down.” He paused. “When it was all over, I had a dislocated shoulder and a bad wrist. Jack relocated the bone and immobilized my arm with the supplies out of our first-aid kit. Then we went to find help.”
Leah tried not to imagine the pain he must have endured while Jack had worked on his shoulder without any anesthetic. As an internist, Jack’s basic orthopedic skills were no doubt rusty, but he would have had to proceed because the potential complications like a lack of blood supply and damaged nerves were too serious to ignore. As she surreptitiously studied Gabe’s fingers, the pink skin color and lack of swelling were reassuring signs of his success.
“Needless to say, it took us a while to find another human being,” he added wryly, “although, technically, a few locals found us when they stumbled across our path. We stayed in their village overnight but before they took us to the next town, the search team had tracked us there. And here we are.”
“You’re lucky they found you at all,” Leah interjected. “We were told you were dead.” Thank goodness Sheldon had persisted with cutting through the red tape to send in their own team. If they’d accepted the official verdict and let matters lie … the idea of Gabe and his colleagues still wandering through the jungle sent a chill down her spine.
“I’m not surprised the authorities assumed the worst,” Gabe said, his voice pained. “We’d stopped inches away from a ravine and thought we were on safe ground. Not long afterwards, the ground gave way and the plane slid over the edge. On its way down, the fuel tanks blew.”
Mentally picturing the scene, Leah shuddered as her grip tightened on the blood-pressure cuff she was still holding.
“You three are celebrities now,” Jeff remarked. “Not many people walk away from an experience like that.”
Gabe’s face became stoic, his expression shuttered. “Two of my group didn’t.”
“Who?” she asked, hating it that not everyone associated with Montgomery Medical would have a happy ending.
“Will. Will Henderson, and Ramon.”
Will was an information technology guru Gabe had hired about eighteen months ago to facilitate the internet connections between remote medical clinics and hospitals to specialists at centers like Spring Valley. Leah had met him a few times but had never had any dealings with him.
Ramon Diaz, however, was a man she knew quite well. As the first pilot Gabe had ever hired and the organization’s most senior pilot, Ramon had usually taken charge of Gabe’s flights. He’d also begun dating Theresa, one of the foundation’s nurses, right before Leah and Gabe had split up, and had recently proposed to her. No doubt they’d both been thrilled to go on this trip together. How sad it had ended so horribly.
“Oh, Gabe,” she breathed, knowing how the loss of two people who had been more friends than employees must weigh heavily on him. She dropped the cuff and clutched his hand in sympathy. “Did they … suffer?”
“Will didn’t. He died in the crash. Ramon … died later.”
Gabe’s tight-lipped expression suggested there was a lot more to his story, but she didn’t press for details. “I’m sorry, both for you and the company. Theresa must be devastated.”
“She’s having a tough time,” Gabe agreed.
Making a mental note to visit with Theresa as soon as she was able, Leah watched as Jeff unwrapped the bandage around Gabe’s leg. The gash was red and swollen, but didn’t look nearly as bad as Leah had anticipated.
“I’ve seen worse,” the doctor remarked, apparently agreeing with her opinion. “How long ago did this happen?”
“About ten days. I slid down a hill and bumped into a few rocks along the way. One of them sliced my skin.”
“Then it definitely isn’t healing as fast as I’d like.”
“We cleaned it as best we could but, as you can see, our topical ointment couldn’t quite do the job.” Gabe winced as his colleague probed the area and his grip on her hand tightened. “Sutures might have helped, but those weren’t available, either.”
Leah wasn’t fooled by his innocent tone or his condensed version of events. He could probably talk for hours about their struggle for the things she took for granted—food, water, protection from the elements and safety from predators. And he’d definitely had a difficult time because his clothing appeared as if he’d walked through a shredder.
As for his injuries, he’d made them sound as if they were nothing more than minor inconveniences when they were visible proof of his harrowing ordeal. Cracked ribs and a dislocated shoulder were painful under ideal conditions and to “slide down a hill and bump into a few rocks” before they’d healed would have been agony. If the truth were known, it wouldn’t surprise her to learn that his so-called “hill” could probably compete with Pikes Peak and his “few rocks” had probably been boulders.
She wanted to throttle him for acting as if his stint in the jungle had been as easy and effortless as a Sunday stroll through the city park. Making a big deal out of bumps and bruises, gashes and cracked bones went against his macho grain, even if he was speaking to a physician who recognized what it took to create this degree of damage. There were two females in the room, too, and it wouldn’t do to appear weak in front of them. In essence, it was a guy thing—part of that caveman, show-the-woman-who’s-strongest mentality.
It was also a Gabe thing. He’d always tried his best to insulate her from the harsh realities of life instead of treating her as a partner in the challenges they faced—and they’d had a number of personal difficulties and tragedies to contend with. Obviously, he still pictured her as being too weak to face the truth. While some women might appreciate being treated like a Fabergé egg, she wasn’t one of them. After ten years of marriage, Gabe should have learned that, but he hadn’t.
As soon as she recognized the familiar resentment building inside her, she wondered why her former frustrations were rearing their heads again. She shou
ld be elated Gabe was home safe and more or less sound and not dredging up old complaints. Her only excuse was that she could finally give herself permission to be angry about his decision to take this flight in the first place.
Yet, however one might psychoanalyze her reaction, Gabe’s return didn’t wipe their slate of problems clean. They still had to be addressed in some manner and the easiest and most expedient method was to get his signature on those divorce documents, wherever they currently were.
Realizing her fingers were still entwined with his, she pulled her hand free.
Jeff’s gaze was speculative as he glanced at her. He’d clearly noticed how her touch had lingered longer than was actually necessary, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he finished his exam and tucked his stethoscope back into his pocket with deliberate movements.
“All things considered,” he said, “you’re not in too bad a shape.” He paused ever so slightly as his gaze slid sideways to Leah and then back to Gabe. “You’re a lucky fellow in more ways than one.”
“You don’t have to remind me,” Gabe answered fervently.
A meaningful note in his tone made Leah question if the two men were discussing Gabe’s health or if this was some sort of private male discussion, but before she could wade into the conversation, Jeff fell back into his professional mode.
“You’ve probably diagnosed yourself, but I want X-rays to check your ribs and your arm as well as basic bloodwork and cultures. To be honest, I’m not happy with the way your leg is healing, so prepare yourself for a few rounds of IV antibiotics.” He glanced at Leah. “I want those started immediately.”
Considering the state of Gabe’s leg, Jeff’s treatment plan was not only sound, it was necessary to stop the infection from turning septic. Without a word, she began pulling the appropriate IV supplies from the cabinet.
Gabe sighed audibly, as if he also knew the IV was necessary but wasn’t particularly happy about it. “I’d expected as much.”
“I’m glad we agree. After I see the films and lab results, we’ll talk again.”
“Any chance I can shower in the doctors’ lounge before you run me through the testing mill?” Gabe’s expression was hopeful. He might be the full-time CEO of the Montgomery Medical Foundation but he was also a member of the surgical staff at Spring Valley Memorial and, as such, he filled in a few nights a month and the occasional weekend when the regular surgeons took time off.
“Of course,” Jeff agreed, “but if we delay your tests, we also delay your treatment. So let’s do the cultures, blood samples and X-rays first, then by the time you finish your shower, we’ll have answers and can decide what comes next.”
Knowing how Gabe hated to compromise, Leah expected him to argue, but to her surprise, he didn’t. “Okay. If it means I’ll get out of here sooner, we’ll do it your way.”
Jeff grinned. “I’m glad to hear it. While you’re stuck in Radiology, I’ll see about arranging for first-class bathroom accommodations.” He turned to Leah. “He’s all yours for now.”
It was a throw-away statement, a figure of speech, but she wondered if his qualifier referred to tending Gabe’s injuries or if it had more personal overtones. Because it was far easier to fall back on the comforting routine of following a doctor’s orders, she did so, determined to leave the soul-searching for later when her mind had stopped reeling.
Thank goodness experience allowed her to perform her tasks without thinking as she still considered Gabe’s return as nothing short of miraculous. Thankfully, and perhaps Jeff had alerted Marge to the situation, Jane came in to help.
“Stay,” Gabe said when Leah tried to escape, and so she did, but by the time he’d finished the lab draws and X-rays, his face was white and pinched with pain. Clearly, he was in desperate need of rest.
“I think the shower should wait,” she began.
His jaw squared. “No way.”
“Not even until you’ve napped a few hours?”
“Not even then.”
Seeing how unsteady he was on his feet, she offered, “How about a sponge bath instead?”
His eyes lit with an unholy gleam before it faded. “As intriguing as that sounds, I want a shower that lasts until I empty the hot water tanks. I need a shower because I’m tired of smelling myself.”
“You smell fresher than some patients who’ve walked through our doors,” she replied.
“Too bad. I know what I want and I want water. Gallons and gallons of it.”
“But you can hardly—”
His gaze was determined. “Trust me. I can and will do whatever I have to.”
She wanted him to be reasonable and take her advice, but if he’d found the fortitude to survive the jungle, he’d find the energy reserves to shower. However, as both his nurse and his wife, she’d watch to ensure he didn’t over-extend himself.
“You always were stubborn,” she remarked.
He nodded. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Well, hang tight while I see what I can arrange.”
After a short consultation in the hallway where she couldn’t speak privately to Jeff because Jane was part of their group, Leah wheeled Gabe to the nearby med-surg wing and into a patient room. She expected him to protest at the obvious implication, but he was too intent on his prize and didn’t.
While he brushed his teeth with the spare toiletry kit she’d commandeered from their supply cabinet, she located towels and soap so he could finally indulge in his much-wanted and much-needed shower in the wheelchair-accessible bathroom.
After removing his splint—the X-ray had shown the bones in his arm and shoulder weren’t broken—she covered his IV site with plastic so it wouldn’t get wet.
“I’ll be out here if you need me,” she told him. “Be careful with your leg and when you’re finished, I’ll dress it.”
While he hobbled into the shower, she turned down his bed and double-checked the medications that Jane had delivered. When she had everything in place except for her patient, she returned to the bathroom and stood in the doorway.
“How are you doing in there?” She raised her voice over the rushing water, noting he’d had at least a seven-minute shower.
“Fine.” A groan came from behind the curtain.
That didn’t sound good. Instantly worried, she straightened, ready to invade his privacy. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. God, this feels so good.”
The awe in his voice reminded her of other times when he’d said the same, under more intimate circumstances. She quickly stuffed those thoughts inside her mental box labeled “to be opened at a later date”. “I’m sure it does, but Jeff wants those antibiotics started ASAP.”
“Just a few more minutes.”
“The shower will still be here, waiting for you, tomorrow,” she coaxed.
“I know, but five more minutes. Please.”
It seemed cruel to deny him this simple pleasure when those extra minutes probably wouldn’t affect his treatment outcome. “Okay, but I’m timing you.”
“You’re the boss.”
If that were only true.
“I’d get done faster if you scrubbed my back for me,” he added.
He sounded so hopeful and so like the old Gabe—the Gabe before their lives had drifted apart—that she flashed back to those happier times when they had shared a shower. The memory of the subsequent lovemaking burst into her head, but it was more than simple recall. She replayed how it had felt—from the sensation of his rough skin against hers, the tickle of his breath and his lips on sensitive areas, his clean, sandalwood scent teasing her nose.
His suggestion was so very tempting … especially when she reflected on their stolen moments during the early days of their relationship. In his position as a surgical resident and hers as a newly minted ED nurse, as long as a deadbolt guarded their privacy, they’d been happy.
Unfortunately, they didn’t have a locked door and Gabe had become a celebrity, which meant privacy was impossible
. Although those details didn’t present an insurmountable problem, making love at this point implied that their personal life was fine and dandy.
And it wasn’t.
“Not a good idea,” she pointed out.
“Why not?”
“You mean, other than that you’re barely able to stand?”
“Yeah.”
“This place will be like Grand Central Station before long,” she reminded him. “Everyone wants to drop by and give you a personal welcome.”
“They can wait. Besides, people will understand if we have a quiet, intimate reunion. They’re probably expecting it, which means no one will interrupt us unless there’s a fire.”
The sad fact was he was probably right. Most people knew they were separated, but no one, other than Jane, knew the D-word had been floated between them. Everyone loved a happy ending, which meant everyone would speculate—if not hope—that Gabe’s return would be the turning point in their relationship. Perhaps under other circumstances, it would have been, but their differences were more deep-seated than a conversation or a few promises could fix.
“They can expect all they want, but it isn’t going to happen.”
His sigh was audible. “I suppose not, but I really would like you to wash my back. I can’t reach.”
Instantly, she felt ashamed for not realizing how his bruised ribs and stiff shoulder made his request completely valid. Irritated at herself for jumping to the wrong conclusion, she shoved the curtain aside to see her dripping husband struggling to touch those hard-to-reach places.
“Turn around,” she ordered, determined to handle her task with clinical detachment. Yet, as she ignored the spray of water on her scrub suit to run a soapy washcloth down his spine and over the lean muscles of his back before moving around to his front, her concern over what he’d endured grew. This wasn’t the body of the man she’d last seen a month ago. Oh, the birthmark in the small of his back was the same, as was the general shape of his torso, but while he’d once reminded her of a lean mountain lion with rock-hard muscles and sinew, now he resembled a starving wolf.
“If you keep that up,” he said dryly, “our private reunion will be extremely one-sided.”
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