One Night with the Army Doc

by Traci Douglass

  Luckily Dr. Ryder stayed where he was, half in, half out of her office, allowing Molly to regain some semblance of control over herself. Whatever this was sparking between them was best forgotten. It was probably nothing. Except, given the way her heart jackhammered against her ribcage just from his nearness, it certainly felt like...something.

  Flustered, Molly shook her head to clear it. “You two served in the military together, correct? Dr. Dave told me you’ve done several tours as a combat medic in Afghanistan and Bobby was on your security team. Perhaps—”

  “I doubt our time in the Army is relevant.” Dr. Ryder scraped a hand through his hair, his usually smooth movements agitated. “I need to get back to my ER. Let me know when those test results come in.”

  “Will do.” She watched him leave, feeling oddly bereft—which was silly. They were coworkers, that was all.

  To get her mind off the awareness still bubbling through her Molly got back to work, scribbling details of Bobby’s new symptoms and treatment plan in his chart. But when she went to turn the page her movement was blocked by Dr. Ryder’s stethoscope.

  He’ll need that.

  She’d been on her way to the cafeteria earlier, so it wouldn’t be out of her way to drop it off. Not to mention she’d have a chance to observe him in his natural environment—maybe figure out what made him tick.

  Decision made, Molly headed for the elevators, stethoscope in hand.

  “Hey, Mol!” Neal yelled from the other end of the hall. “We need to get some follow-up footage.”

  “In a minute,” she called. “I have to take care of a few things first.”

  * * *

  Jake walked through the automatic sliding glass doors into the hectic ER, grabbing a chart off the rack and reading it while he headed toward Trauma Bay One. With the first days of October in full swing, and employee vacations galore, he found himself filling in more than ever.

  Unwanted sexual heat still shimmered through his blood, and he wasn’t sure if it was the mental rush of running diagnoses with Dr. Flynn or the flood of need that washed over him whenever he was around her. But if he hadn’t moved away when he had, he would’ve kissed her. Would probably still be kissing her now, given the yearning thrumming inside him.

  And that would be stupid. He barely knew her, let alone trusted her. Kissing Dr. Flynn would be a monumental mistake.

  Jake took a deep breath and double-checked the name on the file before heading past the drawn curtain. “Hello, Ms. Murphy. I’m Dr. Ryder. What brings you in to see us today?”

  The portly senior citizen pointed at the two EMTs standing near the corner of the room—Zac and a new girl from the local volunteer fire department named Stacy—and gave the pair a disgruntled look. “They made me come.”

  “They did?” Jake grinned at the paramedics. “What happened?”

  Ms. Murphy reached through the bedside rail and clasped his hand, her voice a whisper. “You see, I had to use the restroom.”

  “Okay...” He glanced at Zac, who kept his expression blank. “Then what?”

  “Well, I couldn’t get up.”

  “Her knees buckled,” Stacy supplied helpfully.

  “Oh, hush. I don’t know why I ended up in this place.” The patient gave Zac and Stacy another dirty look before continuing. “Hey, Doc. You’re handsome. You remind me of that guy in those superhero movies. What’s his name? Captain somebody?”

  “Thanks.” Jake smiled. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “You should.” Ms. Murphy batted her eyelashes.

  Stacy stepped forward. “She became nauseated...vomited a little too.”

  “Okay.” He jotted a few notes on the patient’s chart. “When you were in the bathroom did you experience any chest pain, Ms. Murphy?”

  “No.”

  “How about feeling like you were going to pass out?”

  “Yes.” The woman’s gaze widened. “I suffer from sciatica. My back was killing me.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  More than likely it had been the patient’s nerve issues causing her problems. Still, he needed to run the proper tests to rule out something more serious, like a stroke.

  Jake sent Zac and Stacy on their way, then turned to Ms. Murphy again. “All right, I’m going to—”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  Jake’s heart skipped a crazy beat as Dr. Flynn came around the curtain, his stethoscope in her hand.

  “The nurse at the station said to come on in. You left this in my office.”

  “Thanks.” The word creaked past his tight vocal cords.

  All he had to do was take the stethoscope and let her walk away. Temptation avoided. Only he couldn’t seem to do it—because he was a weak-willed idiot where she was concerned.

  “I...uh...appreciate that.”

  His fingers brushed Dr. Flynn’s as he took his stethoscope, sending an electric jolt of lust straight through him. He met her startled gaze and discovered an answering passion. Oh, boy. This was going to be difficult. Difficult because everything about her drew him in like a moth to a flame—her quirky shy smile, her focus on work instead of on the persona the network had built, her beautiful brain and the equally stunning package it came in.

  Do not go there.

  At least some part of Jake’s rational mind still seemed to be functioning, sending up alarm bells. Dr. Molly Flynn was off-limits. He reminded himself why he was leery of the media, why he didn’t trust his heart or his emotions, why he didn’t want to get involved with anyone.

  “Hello, there.” The overt curiosity in Ms. Murphy’s voice had Jake snapping to attention. “What’s your name, honey?”

  Dr. Flynn gave him a deer-in-the-headlights look, frozen in place. “Uh... Molly Flynn.”

  “I’ve got a granddaughter named Molly in New York. Come closer, so I can see you properly. Just look at that skin, Dr. Ryder. Creamy and smooth.”

  Pink color suffused Dr. Flynn’s cheeks and Jake gripped the chart tighter, continued to advise the patient of his treatment plan.

  “As I was saying, Ms. Murphy, I’ll order some bloodwork and a few scans to make sure there are no blockages or bleeding. If all those come back okay, then we’ll discuss your living arrangements.”

  At eighty-four, the woman was at too high a risk to live alone if she was unstable on her feet. The last thing Jake wanted was to send the poor lady home only to have her return with a broken hip or worse.

  While he jotted down orders for Wendy, Ms. Murphy tugged a hesitant Dr. Flynn closer. For someone who made her living in the public eye, Bobby’s new physician seemed decidedly wary of attention—hardly the media darling Jake had expected. In fact, Dr. Flynn was different in a lot of ways from what he’d expected.

  “You’re not married, are you?” Ms. Murphy said, studying his colleague’s ringless left hand. Jake did his best to stifle a grin at Dr. Flynn’s obvious discomfort. “This handsome man is available. You two should—”

  “I’m not interested in dating,” they both said in unison.

  Taking that as his cue to leave, Jake headed toward the exit—only to be halted by his patient’s voice. “Wait a minute, Dr. Ryder. I just want to stretch my legs a bit...”

  He swiveled to see Ms. Murphy teetering on her feet. The older lady swayed for a moment before falling forward—straight toward Dr. Flynn. She rushed forward at the same moment Jake dived, and they ended up locked in an awkward hug, with the patient sandwiched in between them like an overstuffed hoagie.

  “This isn’t quite how I pictured my afternoon going,” Dr. Flynn said, her voice muffled by a face full of hospital gown.

  “No?” Jake leaned around Ms. Murphy’s side to meet her gaze. “Working in the ER, you come to expect the unexpected.”

  “I should have remembered.”

  “Ready
on three?” he asked.

  Together they managed to get the patient safely back into bed.

  Afterward, shoulders stiff and neck sore, Jake stood beside Dr. Flynn at the end of Ms. Murphy’s bed. If he’d had a hard time with the patient’s bulk, he couldn’t imagine the toll on Molly Flynn’s petite frame.

  “Are you okay?” he whispered.

  A stray lock of hair had come loose from the tight bun at the nape of Dr. Flynn’s neck. Before Jake could second-guess his actions he’d tucked it behind her ear. Yep. Her flushed skin felt like silk beneath his touch, and his wayward thoughts quickly transitioned to whether she blushed that beautifully in other...situations.

  “I’m fine.” She sidled away, avoiding his gaze. “Are you all right, Ms. Murphy?”

  “I’m great, kiddo.” The patient gave them both a saucy wink.

  Considering the older woman’s quick wits, Jake wouldn’t have put it past her to fall on purpose. It seemed everyone was a matchmaker these days.

  Ms. Murphy grinned. “Promise me you’ll find yourself a nice man and have lots of beautiful babies, okay?”

  Dr. Flynn frowned. “I’m focused on my career and...”

  “Nonsense.” Ms. Murphy scoffed. “You can be a doctor and a mother and anything else you want to be.” Her gaze darted between the two of them. “Besides, with this fine hunk of superhero around you’d be a fool not to take advantage.”

  “Don’t mind her, Dr. Flynn,” Jake said, feeling an unaccountable urge to put her at ease.

  “Under the circumstances, Dr. Ryder,” she said. “I think you can call me Molly.”

  Given their rather rocky start, he hadn’t expected that, and it knocked him off his game, making him stumble over his words. “Oh, right. Sure. And...uh...you can call me Jake.”

  “Go, love!” Ms. Murphy gave them two thumbs-up as a technician arrived to take her away. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

  The gurney rolled past and Jake gave Molly a quick side glance, finding that same piece of hair had slipped free to dangle against her cheek. Time slowed as he reached out to brush it behind her ear again...

  “I need to go.” Molly scurried from the room faster than scorpions in the Kandahar desert.

  Go. Yep. Jake needed to go too. Go and get his head on straight before he did something insane like haul Molly into his arms and kiss her senseless.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “A HYPERBARIC CHAMBER?” Dr. Dave said, his tone incredulous.

  Molly stood across from him, with Bobby’s bed between them and her crew rolling. They’d been at Anchorage Mercy for a week and a half and she finally had an inkling as to what might be wrong with her patient. Now, if she could just get the chief of staff to sign off on the testing, she’d have firm confirmation.

  “Yes. It’s a bit unconventional, but do you have one?”

  “Well, of course.” Dr. Dave frowned. “We keep one in the Burn Unit to aid in wound healing, but I don’t see how that would help in this situation.”

  She walked around to stand beside the older man, lowering her voice to avoid waking Bobby, who’d managed to fall asleep at last. “Let’s talk in the hall.”

  They exited the room and Rob followed with his camera.

  “I received the patient’s latest lab results early this morning,” Molly said, once they’d reached a deserted spot near the end of the corridor. “He tested positive for herpetic encephalitis.”

  Dr. Dave winced. “I told that boy to be careful with all those groupies.”

  “Sexual transmission isn’t the only way to transmit the virus. And, regardless of how he acquired it, the results still point to one thing.”

  “Which is?”

  “His immune system is severely compromised.”

  “Oh.” Dr. Dave stared out the nearby window, then back at Molly again. “His file says we prescribed steroids early on...”

  “Yes, but two doses of medication wouldn’t cause something this bad.” Dr. Dave’s tense shoulders relaxed and Molly sighed. “I think we need to look at other possible diagnoses.”

  “Such as?”

  “Mixed Connective Tissue Disorder. It explains most of his symptoms. It would also explain why the patient felt better while on the steroids, at least initially.” She closed the file and took a deep breath. “That’s why a hyperbaric chamber is our best and only option.”

  “I still don’t see the link.” Dr. Dave shook his head. “Sorry.”

  “The normal treatment for MCTD is corticosteroids, but we can’t use them for obvious reasons.”

  Rob moved in closer for a tight shot.

  “Therefore we need to treat him with something that modulates the immune system but doesn’t suppress it.”

  “I don’t know...” Dr. Dave paced the narrow corridor. “There’s no established protocol for using hyperbaric treatments for autoimmune disorders and it’s not without risks. What about oxygen toxicity or damage to his eyes or liver?”

  “Those risks are minimal compared to the greater benefits of this treatment.”

  “Well, if you think it’s the best way...”

  “I do.” Molly put an arm around Dr. Dave and led him back toward the elevators. “Now, do you need to book the sessions with the Burn Unit or shall I?”

  “And...cut!” Neal’s voice echoed down the hall.

  Dr. Dave made the necessary call, then turned back to Molly with a smile. “I have a surprise.”

  She held her breath. Surprises—in her world, at least—weren’t good things.

  “Your father will be in Anchorage this Sunday. Turns out he’s been asked to consult on a transplant case up at Fairbanks General and he called me to say he’s going to fly in here from Beijing, then drive north. He’s looking forward to seeing you. We’ll talk later.”

  Molly forced a smile and headed back toward Bobby’s room.

  My father. Here. In three days.

  Nausea and dread knotted into a tight ball inside her stomach. He might be consulting on a case, but the only reason he’d stop in Anchorage would be to keep an eye on his disappointment of a daughter—plain and simple. Most likely because he couldn’t stand the fact that Molly was breaking out on her own after all this time.

  She was still stewing over her father’s impending visit when Jake burst out of the nearby stairwell a few minutes later, his expression dark.

  “Are you filming?” he asked.

  “No. We just finished. Why?” She gave him a confused look. “What’s going on?”

  “We need to talk. In private.”

  “Follow me.”

  Molly took him into the small meditation chapel, finally releasing the breath she’d been holding. It had been nearly five days since she’d seen him in the ER, but his effect on her was still as potent. Her pulse sped and her knees wobbled.

  “What’s happening?”

  “You can’t give Bobby hyperbaric treatments.”

  Molly frowned. “How’d you hear about that? Dr. Dave only just called in the order.”

  “I’ve got friends in the Burn Unit.” Jake rubbed his eyes, as if struggling for patience. “Bobby’s a hockey player—a professional athlete. If the chamber damages his lungs, his career’s over.”

  “But it’s the best option at this point with MCTD.”

  Molly’s annoyance levels rose along with her unaccountable awareness of this man’s every move, his every touch, his every breath. Not to mention she wasn’t used to having her orders on a case questioned.

  He braced his arm against the wall beside her head and his masculine presence seemed to envelop her. It was enough to drive her batty. That and the fact that the guy seemed to have friends everywhere. Or spies. Either way, she doubted the bullet trains in Japan worked as fast as the rumor mill here at Anchorage Mercy.

  Jake narrowed his ga
ze. “You don’t even know if that’s what’s wrong,” he said, his tone skeptical. “I saw the bloodwork. His ANAs were barely elevated.”

  “Bobby’s still my patient, and I feel this is the best course of action.” Molly tapped the toe of her shoe against the shiny linoleum, wanting to throttle him and cuddle him in equal measure. Which made no logical sense.

  The stress over her father’s impending appearance mingled with Molly’s untenable, undeniable attraction to this irritating man who challenged her at every step and boiled over into simmering fury. How dared he question her methods? Distracting her with his looks and his charm and his potent, provocative...steaminess.

  She matched his guarded pose and raised her chin defiantly. “What about his underlying condition?”

  “There is no underlying condition.”

  “Oh, yes, there is.”

  Molly pointed out several lab results, which Jake brushed off as coincidental. God, he was the most infuriating male she’d ever met. To think she’d considered kissing him a minute ago. She’d rather kiss a toad at this point.

  Exhaling slowly, to regain her control, Molly considered her options. She could continue arguing with him about this, which would only waste time and effort. She could concede to his wishes and forget about the hyperbaric chamber completely. Or she could compromise—strike a bargain that would only prove her point in the end.

  “Fine. We’ll try your treatment first. If there’s no improvement by next week, we do things my way.”

  “Fine. All I want is Bobby healthy again.”

  “And what do you think I want? Don’t you think I want him to get well?”

  Jake stared at her, unblinking, his expression unreadable. For a moment he looked as if he wanted to say more, do more. His fingers curled and uncurled at his sides and his gaze flickered to her lips again before returning to her eyes.

  “Honestly, I don’t know what you want, Molly. That’s the problem.”

  With that, he yanked open the chapel door and stalked out. Molly took a few solitary moments to calm her raging pulse before heading back to Gladys’s desk. Her heart ached as much from their argument as from the passionate heat sparking between them.