Cedar Bluff's Most Eligible Bachelor (Cedar Bluff Hospital) (3 page)

She’d come a long way since those dark days after Andrew’s death. In the fourteen months that had passed, she’d recovered both emotionally and physically from the accident that had stolen everything that had been important to her.

But no matter how much she’d healed, she still couldn’t bring herself to get behind the wheel of a car.

Simon mentally smacked himself in the forehead as he rode the elevator down to the first floor, putting as much distance between himself and Hailey as possible.

Idiot. How could he have been such an idiot?

I’m not coming onto you or anything.

I never thought you were!

Shaking his head, he strode out to the parking structure towards his car. He’d made a complete fool of himself. But at least Hailey would know that he wasn’t interested in anything more than a nice, friendly working relationship. Teamwork, just as he had said.

He shouldn’t have assumed anything, he acknowledged as he drove home. Just because Rachel Connell had asked him out a few times, it didn’t mean every single female would.

Hailey was beautiful enough that some other guy would surely snatch her up in no time.

And why that thought annoyed him, he had no idea. Normally he couldn’t care less who dated whom.

Simon didn’t live far from the hospital, so he made it home in less than fifteen minutes. He walked inside his small ranch-style home and tossed his keys on the counter.

The blinking light on his answering-machine gave him pause. Most of his friends used his cell phone. He only kept the land line because of the need to be on call for the emergency department. He’d started out using just his cell phone, but he’d slept through the first call he’d ever received because the ringer on his phone, even at maximum volume, just wasn’t loud enough.

Maybe his parents had called? He hadn’t talked to them in over a month, he realized guiltily.

He pulled a beer out of the fridge, twisted off the cap and took a long drink before walking over to look more closely at the answering-machine.

Three messages, all from a blocked phone number. He frowned. Not his parents. Unless they’d changed to a blocked number for some reason? He pushed the play button.

The sound of a dial tone echoed in the room.

He deleted that message and played the next. More dial tone. The third one was also nothing but dial tone.

Three hang-up phone calls. All from blocked numbers.

Dread painfully twisted his stomach.

Erica had left hang-up messages. Especially in those final weeks before he’d finally picked up and moved, without telling anyone where he was going. Not only had he kept quiet about his true destination, he’d claimed he was moving to Arizona to be closer to his parents. He’d even gone as far as applying for an Arizona medical license.

No one, outside his parents, knew he’d come to small-town Cedar Bluff in Wisconsin instead.

Almost two years had passed. Surely Erica hadn’t found him. Why would she even bother after all this time? She must have moved on with her life by now.

Hadn’t she?

B
Y THE
next morning, Simon had convinced himself that telemarketers had left the three hang-up messages. It was the only explanation that made sense. He needed to remember to update his number on the national do-not-call list.

He sipped at a mug of coffee, thinking about his plans for his day off. He found he was oddly disappointed that he wouldn’t be seeing Hailey.

Stupid, since nothing would ever come of it.

He was through with relationships. After everything that had happened with Erica, he couldn’t imagine allowing anyone to get close.

To this day, he still felt guilty for what had transpired between them. He’d had no idea she was the clingy type of woman when they’d started to see each other. She’d been a nurse working in the same Chicago Children’s hospital emergency department he had been. The way she’d call him if she hadn’t heard from him had seemed nice at first, complimentary. Deep down, he’d been thrilled to know how much she liked him. And she was sweet, too.

But then, when he’d tried to pull back a little, needing a little breathing space, Erica had got upset. She’d been so upset that he’d gone back to seeing her, thinking that perhaps he’d overreacted.

All too soon he’d known it wasn’t going to work. So he had broken things off again. And then circumstances had changed and things had gone from bad to worse.

He closed his eyes for a moment, wishing desperately that he’d handled the situation differently. His actions had caused both of them to suffer. And then there was…

No. He shoved thoughts of Erica aside. Two years was a long time. She’d moved on and so should he. Maybe a tiny part of him would never be the same again, but he had created a new life in Cedar Bluff. New friends. And he was being considered for a promotion, the open ED Medical Director position.

He was happy with his new, if lonely, life. And he’d finally realized there was nothing he could do if Erica wasn’t happy in hers.

Nothing he could do to change what had been lost.

While mowing his lawn, a job he liked for the sheer mindlessness of the work, Seth Taylor called him. He had to shut off the lawnmower in order to hear him.

“Simon, I need a favor.”

“No problem.”

There was a slight pause on the other end of the line. “I haven’t told you what the favor is yet,” Seth protested.

He chuckled at Seth’s incredulous tone. “Doesn’t matter, Seth. But go ahead and ask me, if it makes you feel better.”

“I need you to cover my three-to-eleven shift in the trauma bay tonight. Kylie has to cover a sick call for the paramedic unit and I don’t want to leave Ben with a babysitter as he’s still having some pain in his broken arm.”

“No problem,” Simon repeated, glancing at his watch. He had a couple of hours until three o’clock. “I’d be happy to cover you.”

“Thanks, man. You know I’ll return the favor some time,” Seth said gratefully.

“I know,” he agreed. Since he was one of the few single guys on staff, he had less reason to need anyone to cover him, but he didn’t mind.

Work was his salvation.

When Simon walked into the ED a few hours later, controlled chaos reigned.

Apparently several staff members were sick with flu, so they were working short-handed. Even with the tight staffing, he was surprised to see that Hailey had been assigned to work trauma with him.

Not that Hailey wasn’t a capable nurse. She’d certainly proved herself with the McLeod case. But Cedar Bluff’s policy was not to put their new nurses into the trauma bay until after six months. Hailey had come to them with trauma experience, though, and from a level-one trauma center to boot, so maybe that was why they’d made an exception in her case.

Secretly thrilled to discover he was working with Hailey after all, he crossed over to talk to Quinn Torres, the day-shift physician in the trauma bay, to find out what was going on.

“Hey, Simon,” Quinn greeted him. “It’s been steady all day, but nothing too overwhelming. The biggest issue is staffing. For second shift the trauma team is also covering team one.”

Double duty. He grimaced at the news, knowing there would be delays with patients in team one if emergency cases arrived. There was nothing they could do, though, other than their best. “All right. What’s the disposition with this guy?” he asked, glancing at the patient who was currently in the trauma bay, hooked up to a cardiac monitor and a ventilator. He noticed Hailey was there getting a report from Claire, the day-shift nurse.

“Fifty-eight-year-old guy with a GI bleed. We’ve dumped several units of blood and fresh frozen plasma into him, so he’s stable for the moment. We’re waiting on an ICU bed—hopefully should get one within the next fifteen minutes or so,” Quinn replied. “They’re moving someone out to make room.”

“So are all hospital beds tight or just critical care beds?” he asked. Without open-floor beds and ICU beds, patient dispositions took much longer, causing back-ups in the ED. Not good on a day when they were already short-staffed.

“Just critical care,” Quinn assured him. “And I think they’re moving a couple of patients out, so you should be fine.”

“Okay. Anything else about this guy I need to know?”

“Not really,” Quinn murmured, glancing over at the patient. “We have an H/H pending and there are four units of PRBCs and four units of fresh frozen plasma on hand if you need them.”

“Sounds good.”

“Excellent,” Quinn said, slapping Simon on the back. “Have a good night, because I know I will.”

Simon had to laugh. “Is that your way of saying Leila is off tonight, too?”

“Yes, and Kane Ryerson is the surgeon on call tonight. Don’t you dare page Leila unless you have a code-yellow situation,” Quinn threatened.

A code yellow was a disaster call, something they’d never had to implement in time he’d been there. “Don’t worry, we won’t.”

After Quinn had left, he went over to stand at the foot of the patient’s gurney, taking note of the most recent vital signs flashing across the screen. Hailey was performing a physical assessment, her head bent down as she listened to his heart and lungs. His fingers itched to tuck the silky strands of blonde hair behind her ear.

He dragged his gaze away with an effort. So what if he thought she was incredibly attractive? Just the fact that she was a nurse on staff made her off-limits.

“Ah, Dr—I mean, Simon?”

He inwardly cursed when just the sound of his name in her voice made his gut tighten with awareness.
Get a grip! She’s off-limits!

“What do you need?” he asked, glancing up from the computer screen and keeping his expression neutral.

“His hemoglobin hasn’t come up much—it’s 7.8 now and was 7.5 before the blood transfusion,” Hailey informed him. “Do you want me to start another unit?”

“Yes, that should work. Hopefully he’ll be transferred upstairs to the ICU shortly,” he decided.

“Sounds good.”

Hailey smiled, but he noticed a strange wariness in her blue eyes as she crossed over to the nearest phone to order the unit of blood.

He told himself to be glad Hailey seemed content to keep a professional distance between them.

Because heaven knew, if she were to come on to him, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to turn her down as easily as he had Rachel.

Hailey eagerly transferred her patient up to the medical ICU, thankful for the momentary reprieve from being stuck in close proximity to Simon.

She’d tried to get out of working in the trauma bay for her shift but Theresa, the ED manager, hadn’t given her a choice. The two trauma-trained nurses had both called in sick, leaving her to pick up the trauma shift.

Another reason she’d left Trinity Medical Center had been because she’d lost the thrill of working in a level-one trauma center. She liked ED nursing overall, but had told Theresa there was no rush in getting cross-trained to trauma. Hailey had planned on settling in for at least another few months before having to face her first shift there.

Guess not.

She could do it, she told herself for the fifth time. Of course, having Simon on duty with her served as a distraction from her past.

She didn’t linger upstairs, as much as she wanted to, but hurried back down to the trauma bay, knowing another patient could arrive at any moment. Besides, there were still a few patients in team one to follow up on.

Her trauma pager remained silent, though, so when she returned to the department, she left the tech, a new woman named Bonnie, to clean up and restock the trauma bay while she headed back over to team one.

She double-checked on the patient they were treating for flu. The poor woman had thrown up right after getting settled into her room, just missing Hailey’s feet. Hailey glanced up at the IV bag, satisfied to see it was nearly empty. “How are you feeling, Christy?” she asked the young college student.

“Better,” the girl murmured with a wan smile. “At least I don’t feel as much like I’m going to throw up.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” Hailey said in a light, teasing tone. “Good to know my shoes are safe. Let’s have you try to eat something, hmm? I’ll get you some crackers and white soda.”

Christy wrinkled her nose and put a hand over her stomach. “Do I really have to?”

Hailey nodded. “If you can keep the crackers and soda down, I’ll get Dr. Carter…er…Simon to discharge you.”

“Dr. Dreamy’s name is Simon?” Christy asked with a heavy sigh, running her fingers through her limp brown hair. “He’s not wearing a wedding ring. Does that mean he’s single?”

She chuckled and shook her head. “I’m not answering that, you’ll have to ask him yourself.” She left the room to get the promised crackers and soda, returning in less than a minute. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” The girl’s eyes brightened despite her pasty complexion and Hailey wasn’t surprised when she heard Simon enter the room behind her. “Hi, Dr. Simon. I’m feeling much better after that IV you gave me.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Simon responded, his deep voice sending a shiver down Hailey’s spine. She didn’t so much as glance at him, concentrating on disconnecting the IV tubing from the pump. “Looks like you’re well enough to leave, Christy.”

Leave? Hailey tossed the bag and tubing in the garbage and turned toward him. “I told Christy she had to eat the crackers and drink the soda first, to make sure everything stays in her stomach.”

There was a slight hesitation before he gave a brief nod. “Good. I’ll get the discharge orders started.”

After Simon left, the young woman let out another sigh. “Maybe I should throw up again, just so I can stay longer.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Hailey said dryly. “A better plan would be to get healthy, and then come back to visit when you look smashing. Doctors aren’t overly impressed with sickly patients.”

“Good idea,” Christy said, with such enthusiasm Hailey knew the girl was starting to feel better.

Barely three seconds after Christy Drummel had been safely discharged, Hailey’s trauma pager went off.

She read the text message with a sinking heart.

“Hailey?” she glanced up when Simon called her name. “We have a trauma on the way. Are you ready?”

No. She wasn’t ready. But she nodded anyway, praying she wouldn’t throw up the way Christy had. “Of course.”

Hailey finished with her other patient’s labs and then took her place in the trauma bay as the paramedics wheeled in the new arrival. The patient was a young seventeen-year-old male, who’d run his stolen car into a tree while being chased by the police.

He’d been wedged inside the car, to the point where it had taken the firemen over forty-five minutes to get him out.

The first glance at his pale and lifeless face made her blood run cold.

Not Andrew.

She kept the mantra running in the back of her mind as she concentrated on getting the new patient connected to the heart monitor. His vital signs were dangerously low.

The monitor began alarming. “I’m losing his blood pressure,” she said sharply, with a worried glance at Simon.

Simon looked up at the monitor, his expression grim. “PEA. Probably a hemothorax with his crushing chest injuries. I need a chest tube.”

Hailey grabbed the chest tube tray at the same time Bonnie, the ICU tech, did. Bonnie stared at her for a moment, and Hailey readily let go, realizing setting up and assisting with the chest tube was something useful the tech could do.

She vaguely heard Simon give Bonnie instructions on prepping the guy’s chest. She hung IV fluids and performed a quick assessment, noticing the young man’s abdomen was taut.

Their patient rebounded as soon as Simon placed the chest tube. Bright red blood came pouring out, though.

“Call Kane Ryerson,” Simon said to Bonnie. “This guy needs the OR.”

Bonnie headed for the nearest phone, but almost immediately the patient’s blood pressure bottomed out again.

“He’s bleeding into his abdomen,” Hailey said, watching in horror as the patient’s belly grew larger right before her eyes. “Simon? Do you see his belly?”

“Yeah. We’re going to have to open him up here.” Simon didn’t look very happy with the prospect.

She tugged the peritoneal lavage tray from the bedside, but before Simon could get the guy’s abdomen opened, his heart rate slowed and then stopped.

“No!” Hailey shouted, unwilling to believe they were going to lose him. She climbed up on a stool to start chest compressions. One and two and three and four and five. Breathe. One and two and three and four and five. Breathe.

We’re not going to lose him. We’re not. We’re not…

“Hailey!” Simon’s sharp tone finally registered. She stopped CPR and glanced up at the heart monitor.

Asystole.

“It’s over,” Simon said quietly. “Time of death, six-forty-two p.m.”

She thought she could handle it. But without warning her eyes filled with tears. “Excuse me,” she mumbled, nearly falling off the stool in her haste to get away.