by Laura Scott
“No, I have some medication left over in my bag. Although they’re a little old, so they might not work as well. But they’ll do until I can call my doctor to request a refill on my prescription.”
“All right, then we’ll head to your call room, since that’s where we left your stuff.”
“Okay.” The thought of going back to the hospital was reassuring. Being questioned by the police, baring her secrets to Shane, wasn’t at all part of her comfort zone. But working on trauma patients, being in the OR, reading up on the latest trends in trauma care—that was normal.
She needed to remember that this nightmare would be over once Shane and his fellow SWAT-team members found Creighton. And it would be in her best interest to help them in any way possible.
The sooner she was able to combat this headache and return to her usual routine, the better.
* * *
Shane glanced at Gabby as he pulled into the parking structure. “Are you okay to walk?”
“Of course. I’m fine.” Her voice was firm, but her pale face and trembling fingers told a different story.
He could appreciate her stamina and her determination to stand on her own two feet, but it occurred to him that Gabby needed a lot more emotional support than she realized.
Spiritual support, too.
He was relatively new when it came to going to church, but now that he prayed on a regular basis, he couldn’t imagine how he’d survived without God’s strength and support. But he wasn’t an expert on faith and had no idea how to even broach the possibility with Gabby.
Still, having her entire life revolve around work wasn’t healthy, so he knew he had to try. Not that he was minimizing her career, far from it. Her chosen profession was admirable. But at what cost?
He couldn’t help wondering if her headache was a culmination of pressure and stress. Not that he should care so much either way. His heart wanted to protect her, even though his head told him that was a bad idea.
He escorted Gabby to her call room and propped his shoulder against the door frame as she carefully removed the cedar box of personal items, then rummaged through her duffel for the medication.
“Do you need some time to rest?” he asked gently, after she swallowed the pill.
She grimaced. “I’d like to, but I need to check on Richard. See if there’s been any change.”
Shane straightened from the door frame. “I’ll go with you. If he happens to be awake, I have several questions for him.”
Gabby’s brow puckered in a frown. “Listen, Shane, in my experience most people with head injuries don’t remember much prior to being hurt. Richard may not be able to give you the information you need.”
“I understand, but I still need to talk to him. But I won’t do anything that interferes with his ability to get better, okay? If he becomes upset, I’ll stop.”
“Okay.” Gabby slowly rose to her feet. “Let’s go.”
Shane wished he could force her to rest, but all he could do was to follow as she led the way through a maze of corridors to the other side of the hospital. She took the elevators to the fifth floor and then walked down a corridor to a room that had her stepfather’s name outside the door.
She paused, as if to gather her strength, before pushing the door open. “Richard?” she called in a soft voice. “It’s me, Gabriella.”
There was no response from the patient stretched out on the bed. Richard Strawn looked older, more fragile against the white sheets, wearing a hospital gown and a bandage over the wound on his temple.
Shane hung back as Gabby stepped up to the bed. She reached down and took Richard’s hand in hers. “The doctors and nurses are taking good care of you,” she murmured. “I made sure to ask for the best.”
Richard still didn’t respond, and Shane heard Gabby sigh. She glanced at him over her shoulder. “He won’t be answering questions anytime soon.”
Yeah, he got that. He swallowed his frustration at the fact that their best lead was lying unconscious and might never remember anything that could help them find Creighton. “Do you think his head injury is worse?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered helplessly, turning back to stare down at her stepfather.
Shane stepped up beside her and gently squeezed her shoulder. “We should pray for him,” he suggested in a low voice.
“Pray?” Her startled gaze caught his. “I don’t know much about that. And I don’t know that Richard believes in God, either.”
He shifted, feeling a little embarrassed, but at the same time, he didn’t want to back down. “Well, I do believe and I think it’s important for us to pray for him.”
She hesitated but then nodded. “All right.” She bowed her head and clasped her hands in front of her.
Relieved that she hadn’t refused outright, Shane closed his eyes for a moment, searching his heart for the proper words. “Dear Lord, we ask that You please heal Richard’s injury with Your grace and goodness. Also we ask that You continue to provide knowledge and strength to the doctors and nurses caring for him. And please help guide us on Your chosen path. Amen.”
“Amen,” Gabby echoed.
Shane was touched that she’d responded verbally to his prayer and hoped that she’d found a little peace, especially after everything she’d been through.
“Do you want to talk to his doctor again?” he asked when she remained quiet beside him.
“Not right now.” She hesitated then asked, “Do you really think God cares about whether or not Richard recovers from his injury?”
Shane nodded. “Yes, I do. God cares about all of His children, even those who may not have found their way to Him yet.” Like you, he almost added, catching himself in the nick of time.
Gabby glanced up at him and he was relieved to see that the haze of pain had faded a bit from her eyes. Maybe her medication had kicked in, after all. “I don’t think Richard has been going to church on a regular basis.”
He shrugged. “But there’s always a first time,” he pointed out. “If Richard recovers, he may decide that faith is important, especially after this close brush with death.”
“Maybe,” Gabby said, although her gaze was full of doubt. “I haven’t really thought about God and faith much over the years. When my mother was placed in hospice care after her treatment for colon cancer failed, her pastor came to visit. Richard scowled at the poor guy the entire time, so the pastor didn’t stay long.”
Shane’s heart went out to her. Losing her mother to cancer couldn’t have been easy for her. “I’m sorry that you had a bad experience, but I believe that your mother may have gotten the prayers and support she needed to be at peace with her death.”
“She did seem to be at peace with her decision. She refused more chemo once the cancer had spread to her liver and kidneys,” she admitted. “Richard blamed me for the way she gave up because I was honest with her regarding her chances of surviving.”
Shane tried to squelch a flash of anger on Gabby’s behalf. “He was just lashing out at you because of his grief, nothing more.”
Gabby grimaced but continued to stare down at her stepfather. “In the past few years, I’ve watched many family members pray for their loved ones. I always imagined they were part of a close-knit family who truly cared about each other. I have to confess, I never expected to be here like this for Richard.”
“Faith can be comforting for both the patient and their family members.” Shane fought the urge to put his arm around Gabby’s shoulders to offer comfort. He curled his fingers over the side rail, instead. “Gabby, I know that you and your stepfather haven’t been close, but it’s important to forgive those who have hurt us. We should try to be like God and Jesus, who forgave those who had forsaken and betrayed him. He would like us to try to do the same.”
Gabby was silent for a long moment. “You don’t know what you’re asking,” she said finally.
“I know it’s not easy—in fact, I’m still struggling with the concept of forgiveness too
,” he told her. “My fiancée left me six months before our wedding for another man.”
Gabby’s eyes widened in shock. “That’s terrible.”
“Yeah, it wasn’t fun, and I lost a couple grand as a side bonus. For years I resented her, but since I’ve started attending church, I’ve been working on forgiveness.”
“I give you a lot of credit for being able to do that,” Gabby said. She stepped back from the bedside and he wasn’t surprised when she changed the subject. “My headache is still lingering, so I think I’ll return to my call room for a while.”
“I’ll walk you back,” Shane offered, disappointed at the way she was pulling away from him.
“Suit yourself,” she said, turning and heading toward the door.
He followed her as she made her way to the call room, once again taking back hallways and stairwells that were used only by hospital staff.
Shane knew he should be happy that she’d agreed to pray with him at all, but he couldn’t help wishing for more. Clearly, whatever had caused the rift between Gabby and her stepfather was something so bad that she couldn’t readily find forgiveness.
Getting romantically involved with Gabby wasn’t an option, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that she needed help finding a way to God and faith.
And if he could manage a way to accomplish that, while keeping her safe at the same time, he would force himself to be satisfied with that.
* * *
Gabby was far too conscious of Shane’s presence beside her as she headed for the call room. Her headache still plagued her, but not nearly as badly as it had earlier.
Shane’s words about forgiveness echoed over and over in her mind. Trying to find a way to forgive Richard was one thing.
Forgiving Damon for nearly raping her was something completely different.
“Do you want something to eat?” Shane asked as they passed the cafeteria.
Her stomach lurched and twisted. “No, thanks. But you can grab something if you like. There’s no reason to follow me back to my call room.”
Shane shrugged. “I’ll grab something later.”
She suppressed a sigh and rubbed her temple. When one of her colleagues, Dr. Noah Graham, walked out of the cafeteria, she was surprised when he called out to her. “Gabby? Do you have a minute?”
“Sure.” She stopped and turned toward him. “What’s up?”
Noah glanced pointedly at Shane. “Do you mind? This is a private conversation about a patient.”
Shane crossed his arms over his chest, impressive in his uniform. “I do mind... I’m not leaving. Don’t use patient names and I won’t pay attention to the details.”
Gabby glanced between the two men with a scowl. “Stop it, both of you. What do you need, Noah?”
“Remember our patient with the low abdominal wound from last night?” he asked, stepping to the side and turning so that his back was facing Shane.
“Yes, I remember. Why? What happened?”
“He took a turn for the worse, and I need to take him back to the OR. I thought you might want to assist.”
Truthfully, all she wanted was to rest so that the last remnants of her headache faded away, but she forced herself to nod. “Sure, no problem. What time?”
“I’m heading up to the OR now,” Noah said.
She glanced over at Shane, who did not look at all happy. “I have to go. I’ll see you later.”
“How long will this take?” he asked.
“An hour or two at the most. But you don’t need to stick around.”
“I’ll wait for you,” he said firmly.
She didn’t argue, especially since she didn’t want Noah to know anything about the real reason Shane was there. “Okay, I’ll come down here to find you.”
Noah headed toward the elevators and she followed, glancing back to where Shane stood, watching them.
“New boyfriend?” Noah asked as he pressed the elevator button.
It was on the tip of her tongue to deny it, but for some odd reason she hesitated. Maybe having people believe they were dating was a better way to salvage her reputation than having everyone know that she’d been kidnapped and might still be in danger.
“We’re friends,” she said, finally breaking the long silence.
“Sure, whatever you say,” Noah retorted with a smirk. “Friends.”
She refused to react, keeping her expression impassive as they walked into the operating room and began to scrub for their case. Once in the OR suite, years of training took over, crowding everything out of her mind, including her migraine.
The patient’s abdominal wound didn’t look good, and as they worked she realized that they must have missed a metal fragment that was lodged in the patient’s colon. Had it been her fault? She hadn’t been the primary surgeon, but she had assisted long enough to stop the bleeding.
She swallowed the lump of guilt and concentrated on making sure the wound was irrigated with antibiotic solution before closing the incision for a second time. An hour later, she stepped back from the OR table. “That should do it,” she said.
“Thanks,” Noah replied, barely glancing at her. Did he blame her in some way? She was tired of fighting against the bias many of her male colleagues had against female surgeons.
Gabby left the OR and stripped out of her sterile garb. She scrubbed again at the sink before going into the women’s locker room for clean scrubs. Then she headed back down to the cafeteria to meet Shane.
He was sitting at a table right near the cafeteria entrance, and their gazes locked as she approached. The tingle of awareness that shot down her spine caught her by surprise. Shane exuded an inner strength and confidence that she’d never experienced with her male colleagues.
“Everything all right?” Shane asked, rising to his feet to meet her.
She nodded, disconcerted by his nearness. His powerful frame was overwhelming yet comforting at the same time. “Yeah, fine.” The scent of food made her realize that her headache was nearly gone and that she was hungry, after all.
But before she could head in to pick something up to eat, the loudspeaker overhead came on. “Code blue, fifth floor, room twenty-one.”
Gabby gasped and clutched Shane’s arm. “That’s Richard’s room.”
“Let’s go,” he said.
She was already running toward the stairwell, refusing to wait for the elevator.
What could possibly have happened to her stepfather? He’d been stable a mere hour ago. Maybe Shane was right, maybe this was the time to try to forgive Richard.
Or was it already too late?
EIGHT
Shane kept pace with Gabby as she took the five flights of stairs up to her stepfather’s room with the gracefulness and energy of a gazelle. She was absolutely incredible, especially after everything she’d been through. No one would ever know that she’d been kidnapped, questioned by the police, spent over an hour in the OR performing surgery, all while dealing with a terrible headache.
Completely amazing.
He tried to reel in his emotions, knowing that this attraction simmering in his bloodstream for Gabby was dangerous. On more than one level. Not just for himself, personally. But professionally. He couldn’t afford to lose his ability to be impartial, not while working this case.
Not until they knew the truth about Creighton. And any potential ties to Gabby’s past. While Gabby had been in the OR, he’d reported in to Griff and Nate about how she’d stated that she and her mother were placed in witness protection.
Of course, Griff and Nate were skeptical. And he couldn’t blame them. Still, at this point, nothing else explained the different name on Gabby’s mother’s marriage certificate.
They’d know for sure as soon as Nate finished his background checks.
When they reached the fifth floor, there was a crowd of people standing outside Richard’s room. Gabby’s face went pale as they approached. She stopped just outside the door to her stepfather’s room, watching as the medical
team worked on her stepfather, with her hand covering her mouth. Ten minutes later, she swayed and he quickly slipped his arm around her waist to hold her upright.
“Let’s find a place to sit down,” he urged.
“No, I’m fine,” Gabby said, stiffening her spine. She allowed him to stand beside her for another few moments before she stepped forward. “Bill?” she called over the mob of people. “What’s going on? What happened?”
Shane recognized the tall, lean neurosurgeon who had met Gabby in the ER when her stepfather was first being examined. The neurosurgeon edged through the crowd toward her. “He went into V-tach, and then V-fib. We’ve shocked him, but without success. Things don’t look good. I’m sorry, Gabby.”
“I don’t understand,” she murmured, her arms crossed protectively across her chest. “His vitals were stable. His head injury wasn’t that serious. What could have happened?”
“I’m not sure what to tell you,” Bill admitted, appearing just as frustrated as Gabby was. “We have his code labs back and his potassium levels are pretty high, but that could be because of his heart attack. We’ve given him meds to bring his potassium levels down, but that hasn’t helped. At this point, the only other explanation so far is that he threw some sort of blood clot. And since he has a head injury, we can’t afford to give him any blood thinners.”
Gabby thrust her fingers through her hair and Shane stepped closer to her side, just in case.
“Still in asystole,” someone said loudly from inside the room. “Continue CPR.”
The neurosurgeon turned to go back inside the patient’s room. For several long moments the team continued to work on Richard in spite of the fact that his heart rhythm was nothing more than a straight line.
Finally the neurosurgeon spoke up again. “He’s been down for fifteen minutes already with no pulse. I’m calling the code. It’s over. Thanks, everyone.”
Gabby made a soft sound in the back of her throat, and this time Shane wasn’t taking no for an answer. He put his arm around her waist and physically turned her around so he could guide her back toward the patient lounge located at the end of the hallway.