by R J Nolan
“Come on, bud. Time for a quick pee, then I’ll make you something to eat.” Hopefully before I get called back. She glanced at her phone, willing it not to ring. She grabbed his leash and snapped it onto his collar. He gave her a pleading look, but she didn’t relent. “Drake. Come.”
The big dog slowly rose and hopped to the floor. She led him outside to a small area of grass she had scoped out earlier. He quickly took care of business, and they went back into the motor home.
Knowing how much Drake loved warm milk, Logan took a chance and fired up the motor home’s generator just long enough to run the microwave for thirty seconds to heat the milk. She poured the warm milk over his dry kibble. If anything would tempt him, this would be it. “You want some cereal?”
Drake’s tail thumped against the cabinet, and he began to drool. He knew exactly what those words meant.
Relief washed over Logan as she watched Drake chow down. She wiped his dripping muzzle when he finished.
Without any encouragement from her, he jumped back into the dinette bed and flopped down with a satisfied sigh.
She wagged her finger at him. “Don’t get too comfortable up there. As soon as we get back to the campground and set up again with the slider out, your bed is going back on the floor.”
Drake woo-wooed as if contradicting her.
“I mean it. As soon as we get back.”
He huffed, then lay on his side and put his paw over his eyes.
Logan laughed. She headed back to work with a much lighter heart.
CHAPTER 7
Logan arrived in the ER just in time to see Dr. Parker come flying backward through the double doors of a trauma room. She slammed against the wall opposite the doors and then crumpled to the floor into an awkward sitting position. Logan tossed her backpack toward the counter of the nurses’ station and raced down the hall toward Parker.
She knelt down next to her. “Are you all right?” Parker appeared dazed and didn’t respond immediately. Logan’s head jerked up when the door to the trauma room banged open and Martinez, a second-year resident, came barreling out.
“Is she okay?” he asked. “We were trying to get the guy restrained, and he kicked her right in the chest.”
Logan ignored his question. She was more concerned with accessing Parker. “Get a gurney.”
The resident quickly pushed a gurney over.
“I’ll stabilize her head and neck. You get her legs.” At Dr. Martinez’s nod, Logan reached for Parker, intent on easing her down to the floor so she could more easily stabilize her spine. “We’re going to put you on a gurney.”
Parker weakly shook her head and winced. “No. No gurney. I’m fine.” She tried to push herself off the floor and failed. Her left leg was twisted under her at an unnatural angle.
“You are not fine. Let us get you on a gurney.”
Adamantly shaking her head, Parker staggered to her feet before Logan could stop her.
Logan grabbed her arm as Parker’s knee threatened to fold. Damn stubborn woman.
Parker shook her off. “I’m fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me. I can walk.” She took several limping steps away from Logan.
“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?”
Turning back to face Logan, Parker motioned toward the trauma room, where the patient’s loud protests had died out. “Sounds like they’ve got everything under control. I’m going to take a short break.”
“Like hell you are.” Logan shocked herself with her vehemence. It’s just concern for an injured coworker. Even as she thought it, she knew it wasn’t the complete truth. Despite her determination otherwise, she was coming to care about Parker. “You’re coming with me to an exam room.”
Narrowing her eyes, Parker glared at Logan.
Martinez’s gaze bounced back and forth between the two women.
She marched over to Parker. “You need to be checked over.” Logan moved closer so only Parker could hear her. “Lean on me and let me help you, or I’ll strap your ass down on the gurney.” She wasn’t sure where her anger over Parker’s recalcitrance was coming from, but Logan couldn’t seem to stifle it. Motioning Martinez back toward the trauma room, she said in a normal voice, “Make sure everything’s okay in there.”
Martinez hesitated for a moment, then skirted around them and into the trauma room.
Steely gray eyes met Logan’s in a brief contest of wills.
Parker blew out a breath. “All right. But it’s not necessary.”
“Let me be the judge of that.” Logan wrapped her arm around Parker’s waist. “Put your arm over my shoulders.” For a moment, it looked as if Parker would refuse. “Parker,” she said, making sure her tone conveyed her seriousness.
“I’ve told you before. Several times. It’s Dale.”
What? She chose to make an issue of this now of all times? Logan clamped her jaw shut. This was already more personal than she was comfortable with. Parker looked as if she wasn’t going to budge an inch unless Logan complied. “Fine. Dale, will you please put your arm around my damn shoulders so we can get you into an exam room?”
Parker snorted and did as requested.
With her arm around Parker’s waist and Parker’s arm across her shoulders, Logan couldn’t help feeling Parker’s heavily muscled back. She had previously noticed the thick muscles of Parker’s forearms. But pressed this close to her, she realized Parker was all solid muscle, without an ounce of excess fat. It made Logan uncomfortably aware of her own excess weight. She pushed the feeling away. This isn’t about you.
They had only taken a few steps when Logan realized Parker was barely allowing her to support any of her weight. Glancing sideways, she could see her trying to hide a grimace. “The whole point here is to actually let me help.”
A look of chagrin chased across Parker’s face. She gave up and allowed Logan to help her into a small treatment room.
Dale levered herself up onto the gurney, keeping as much weight as she could off her left leg. She barely resisted the urge to rub her knee. The sooner she got this over with, the sooner Logan would leave and Dale could take care of herself.
Logan approached the end of the gurney where Dale sat. “How are you doing?”
“I’m fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me.” Dale shifted and unsuccessfully tried to hide a wince.
“Then you won’t mind if I check and make sure. An incident report will need to be filed. And I, for one, don’t want to explain to Dr. McKenna why you weren’t examined.”
Dale knew there was no getting around the paperwork. But she couldn’t get past the feeling that there was more to it than Logan simply covering her ass. While Logan had made a point over the past week of avoiding her unless it was related to a case, there was no denying the look of real concern in her eyes. It felt personal. Or maybe it’s just your own wishful thinking. She continued to be intrigued by the enigma that was Logan.
That didn’t change the fact that she did not want Logan to examine her. Dale’s insides clenched at the thought of the other things Logan would discover that had nothing to do with the bruise developing from the kick she had taken. Embrace the suck. The frequent advice of her friend Casey echoed in her head. “All right. Let’s get this over with.”
“Did you lose consciousness when you hit the wall?”
“No.” When Logan pulled a penlight from her pocket, Dale rolled her eyes.
“Humor me.” Logan flashed the light into her eyes several times before putting the penlight away.
Dale hated to be poked and prodded, having suffered through more than her fair share of that over the last three years. Struggling to stay still, she reluctantly followed Logan’s instructions during the rest of the brief neurological exam.
Logan smiled. “Everything checks out.”
“Told you. I’m not hurt.” Dale tried to get o
ff the gurney.
Logan stopped her by placing her hands on top of Dale’s shoulders. When she squeezed, Dale winced. Arching an eyebrow, she said, “So, you’re not hurt, huh?”
“Okay, I’m a little sore right below the clavicle on the left. That’s where the kick caught me. I’m sure it’s just a bruise.”
“Let me grab you a gown so I can take a look.” Logan stepped over to the cabinet along the wall and bent to retrieve a patient gown.
Panic held Dale momentarily frozen. “No.” The word burst from her, much louder than she intended. There was no way she was baring her chest and shoulder to Logan.
“What?” Logan straightened and glanced at Dale.
“I’m a doctor too. I’d know if I was hurt worse than a bruise.” Dale lifted both arms and rotated her shoulders. “See, good range of motion.”
Logan stalked back over to the gurney, patient gown in hand. “Great. Then you won’t mind me doing a quick exam. After all, I can’t very well sign off on the incident report if I didn’t actually examine you—now can I?
Damn the woman! Dale scrambled for another excuse.
“Listen.” Logan sighed. “If you’d feel more comfortable with someone else doing the exam, just say so.”
Dale resigned herself to the inevitable. If a coworker had to find out, it would be better if it was Logan. She at least would be gone in a few weeks. But somehow, that wasn’t as consoling a thought as she hoped. In fact, it caused an inexplicable sadness. Dale blew out a breath. “No. You can do it.” She removed her lab coat and scrub shirt, leaving her clad in a long-sleeved T-shirt.
Logan handed her the gown, then turned her back.
Dale stared at the gown for a moment before tossing it on the gurney. “I don’t need the gown. I’ve got on a sports bra.” No gown would hide what Logan was about to see. Grinding her teeth, she pulled the T-shirt over her head before she lost her courage.
When she turned around, Logan’s eyes went wide as her gaze swept Dale’s torso.
Dale knew exactly what Logan was seeing. The skin on the left side of her chest and upper arm were pitted with purple shrapnel scars the size of fat raindrops. While time and healing had lessened their severity, nothing would lessen the impact on someone seeing them for the first time. She had grown tolerant of the ugliness. She sighed to herself. It wasn’t as if she’d had any choice in the matter. They were never going away.
Logan swallowed heavily. Her eyes brimmed with tears when she met Dale’s gaze.
The pity on Logan’s face burned in the pit of Dale’s stomach. “Could we just get this over with?” she asked, her voice gruff. She glanced down at the damaged side of her chest. A bruise was forming just below her clavicle and extended down to the swell of her breast. “He caught me here.” She pointed to the bruise, keeping her eyes firmly on her own chest.
Logan reached toward her with trembling fingers.
She can’t even bear to touch you. When Logan’s warm fingertips made contact with her damaged skin, she flinched.
“Does that hurt?”
Dale shook her head roughly.
Logan gently palpated Dale’s clavicle and upper chest. Her hand slid over Dale’s shoulder and carefully checked for any scapular injury.
Forcing herself not to pull away, Dale gripped the edge of the gurney’s mattress. She never once looked at Logan.
Continuing her exam, Logan manipulated her shoulder through the full range of motion. “You’re right. Looks like just a bruise. You’ll probably be sore, but nothing serious. Just to be sure, it would be a good idea to get a chest film.”
Dale grabbed her T-shirt from the gurney and pulled it over her head. “I’ll think about it,” she said, her voice muffled by her shirt.
“Now just let me take a look at your knee—”
“Don’t!”
It was too late. Logan had already tugged up her left pant leg.
Logan froze with one hand on Dale’s knee, the other hand supporting her calf, and stared at what she had uncovered.
Fuck! Dale’s stomach roiled. The one thing she had tried so hard to hide from her coworkers had been discovered. While the cosmetic cover camouflaging the metal parts of her prosthetic leg might fool someone from a distance, there was no way Logan could mistake what she was holding. She shoved Logan’s hands away and jerked her pant leg back down. When she finally forced herself to look up, a neutral, professional expression was firmly in place on Logan’s face.
Relief washed over her. She couldn’t have stood to see the horror some people reacted with when they found out about her amputation. Please don’t ask any questions.
“I need to examine your knee.” Logan’s voice was calm but firm.
“No.” On this she wouldn’t budge. “The prosthetic twisted and got caught under me when I fell. My knee was not injured.”
Logan stared at her as if assessing her honesty.
Dale met her gaze head-on.
Logan started to speak, then stopped. Blowing out a breath, she scowled. “I’m trusting you on this.” She pointed a finger at her. “Don’t make me regret it.”
“You won’t.”
“Do you feel up to finishing your shift?”
I knew it. “Of course.” Dale struggled to keep the anger out of her voice. Now that Logan was aware of her deficiencies, everything would change and she would start treating her differently, as if she wasn’t capable of doing her job without help.
Another fear nagged at Dale. Knowing Logan already thought less of her, Dale nevertheless swallowed her pride. It took a moment for her to force the words out. “I…ah…” She cleared her throat. “Please don’t say anything to anyone else about…” She waved vaguely in the direction of her leg.
Logan stiffened. “Of course not.”
When Logan didn’t turn to leave, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Could you just give me a couple of minutes—alone?”
Her brow furrowed, Logan glanced down at Dale’s leg. “Are you sure you’re really okay?”
“Yes. I just want to get myself together.” She pulled her discarded scrub shirt and lab coat into her lap. She sure as hell wasn’t going to tell Logan that what she needed to do was doff her prosthesis and reseat her damn stump.
“Oh. Okay.” Logan walked to the door, then turned back. “I’ll see you out there.”
Dale waved a dismissive hand, urging her on her way. As soon as the door closed behind Logan, she slumped back against the gurney. Fuck.
Struggling to keep her professional persona in place, Logan, avoiding eye contact with anyone, hurried to the first unoccupied room she could find. When the door closed behind her, she slumped against it. Dear God. Dale. There was no keeping an emotional barrier by refusing to use her first name now. The sight of Dale with her head bowed as if in shame after baring the horrific scars littering her body was forever seared on Logan’s retinas. If that wasn’t terrible enough, her horror had been compounded when she discovered Dale’s missing limb. It had taken every ounce of her self-control and years of experience to hide her reaction. Tears filled Logan’s eyes at the thought of what Dale must have suffered. She roughly brushed them away.
That Dale had come back from such an injury and was able to work in a demanding environment like an emergency room, with no one the wiser, was nothing short of miraculous. While she already respected Dale as an excellent clinician, now she was in awe of her on a personal level. What an incredible woman.
Logan staggered when the door she was leaning against was pulled open from the other side. “Sorry. Didn’t know the room was in use,” Mr. Martian, one of the nurses, said. He had a patient on a gurney in tow.
“It’s not. Go ahead.” Logan stepped out into the hall and held the door open so he could push the gurney inside. After closing the door behind him, Logan used her sleeve to blot away any possible evidence of
her emotions. Giving herself a mental shake, she headed toward the nurses’ station.
As Logan passed by the room where she had left Dale, she forced herself to keep walking. Leave her be. She had survived much worse than a kick in the chest and probably wouldn’t appreciate being hovered over.
The sound of sirens hastened her steps. Logan arrived back at the nurses’ station just as the doors of the ambulance entrance to the ER banged open. She sprinted for the incoming patient.
“What have you got?” Logan grabbed the side rail of the stretcher and started to pull.
“OD. Found by his roommate.” An EMT rattled off the patient’s stats. “We brought as many of the pills and bottles as we could find.” He inclined his head toward a plastic bag resting on the patient’s legs.
“Get a gastric lavage kit set up,” Logan said to Ms. Holland, the nurse who had also arrived to attend the patient.
“On it.” She sprinted down the hall and into a treatment room.
Dale loped up to the gurney. She stared at Logan from the other side of the patient, an unmistakable challenge in her gaze.
What the heck? What had she done to garner such a response from Dale?
Returning her attention to the patient, Logan eyed the semiconscious, morbidly obese young man on the stretcher. She was glad Dale was there to help; it was going to take all of them to transfer him to an ER bed.
Logan waited while the EMTs positioned the gurney next to the ER bed with its wheels locked, ready for transfer. The two EMTs took up positions next to their gurney. Oh yeah. Pick the easy side. She met the eyes of one of the EMTs, and he grinned. Not that she could really blame him; they had already lifted the patient once. She moved to stand next to Dale. Holland stood by the patient’s head. Logan figured the petite nurse wouldn’t be able to lift much more than the man’s head anyway. As she leaned across the empty ER bed to grab the sheet under the patient, she caught Dale’s frown aimed at her. She wondered what was going on with Dale but didn’t have the time to worry about it. Wrapping both hands around the rolled bed sheet, she waited for everyone to get ready.