Chapter Eight
M av sent Louise home, as their shift had ended. He had paperwork to complete, so he remained in the ED and finished his notes then went to restock their kit.
For some reason, Maverick didn’t want to leave the ED. Not yet.
Because of paperwork.
He lifted his head as the ED doors swung open. It was just Clyde heading back in to grab his winter gloves he’d forgotten.
Huh. Mav wondered how Lee liked her new glove liners and mittens he’d picked out for her earlier this week. The only reason that thought came to mind was because he was a nice guy welcoming the new doctor to town. Being welcoming. And nice. That was all.
He clicked through the fields on the EMS form and rubbed his chin. He glanced at Dee, who sat across from him at the desk, typing away on her desktop, her usual efficient self. Taking another peek at the closed ED doors, he shifted in his seat. Dee paused, leaned around her monitor, and stared at him with a bland expression. Then she made a mmm-hmm sound and sat back, continuing to type.
Mav worked very hard to ignore his sister. Instead, he listened to the light sounds of the empty ED. An environmental services employee cleaned the floors. The night shift nurses chatted as they restocked the trauma bay supplies.
Man, he hoped Bruce would be okay. Lee had done a great job directing the team. Mav knew that wide-eyed expression—she had wanted nothing to do with that code. He’d seen that expression before in EMS trainees. He’d seen it in nurses and docs who sometimes floated through town to cover for a month at a time, then fled after they realized the seat-of-the-pants situation out here. As Mav’s ex had said, not as advertised in the glossy brochure . Hey, he’d done remote EMS runs where he had ended up over his head in a critical situation. He knew what fear felt like when it came to a dying patient.
How Lee was holding up? Despite her discomfort, she had remained calm during the crisis and took everything in stride, unlike some healthcare providers who got flustered and missed key steps.
Maybe she still wanted to grab that dinner he’d offered. She hadn’t outright rejected him. Was that disaster of a conversation only a few hours ago? He ran his hand through his unruly hair, then tried to pat it into order.
How was he thinking about a date now? After finishing up a code where someone almost died?
Because Mav worked in healthcare. Compartmentalization was a job requirement.
He looked around the ED once more.
He drummed his fingers, typed, then deleted. Wrong box filled out. He rubbed his eyes and thought through everything he had to do this weekend.
Man, he had to get home and feed the babies. Also needed to ensure the lodge rooms and guest cabin were prepped for the snowmachiners. Take care of a few repairs. That meant digging out various paths to and from buildings, thanks to the ongoing, recent snowfall. Too much to do and no time for any of it.
Except for a little time to have dinner with…
Rubbing his neck, he rolled his head back and forth.
Dee peeked over again and sucked a tooth.
“What?” he shouted.
“Touchy much?” She batted her eyes at him.
Dee might have been thirty-six to his thirty-four, and they were both adults, but she still got way too much pleasure out of pushing his buttons.
“Fine,” he grumbled, trying again—and failing—to concentrate on the EMS form.
“That’s not an answer to my question.”
“Why are you still here, Dee? You’re, like, the boss. It’s Friday. Your work is done. Go home.”
She rolled her eyes. “Mav, I don’t leave here. When there are holes in staffing or the need for an extra set of hands, it’s my job to help out.”
“But it’s not your job, really.” He might poke at his sister, but in truth he worried about how much she worked.
“It is out here.”
“You’re not using it as an excuse to avoid other things?”
After a pause, she scowled. “Are we playing this game? Do you want me to psychoanalyze you right here, right now? Because I will do it.”
“Hell no.” He conceded the win to his sister and pushed back from the desk. “Back in a bit, then I’m heading out.”
“Where are you going?”
Big sisters.
He rolled his eyes. “Restroom. Do I have your permission?”
“ Hmmph ,” she said. “You should go to the doctors’ lounge and use that one.”
“Why?”
Her broad smile made him want to pop her in the arm. “For good reason.”
“Quit matchmaking, Dee!” he bit out.
But sure, the lounge would be a good place to find… a restroom.
“Not matchmaking, Mav.” He didn’t buy the innocent expression. “Johan had mentioned that the main restroom is out of order for a bit.”
“Oh. Then I’ll use the ED ones.”
Thumbing behind her, she said, “And Johan started cleaning them a minute ago.” She waggled her fingers, irritating him, like when they were in elementary school.
Over the years, Dee had honed her skills for poking until Mav would lose his cool. Felt like manipulation. After a long day at the end of a long week, he was too tired to argue.
He tipped an imaginary hat at Dee as he strolled through the ED doors and hung a left toward the inpatient wing.
The hospital at nine p.m. on a Friday was nearly empty. Night shift nurses were busy doing rounds on their patients. Visitors had left.
He badged into the door next to the Doctors’ Work Room sign.
The space held a small couch, recliner, coffee table, computer desk, fridge, and kitchen table with a few mismatched chairs.
It also held an unhappy doctor, judging by the slump of her shoulders and the frown.
“Knock, knock,” he said out loud.
“Oh.” Lee turned her head and rubbed her hands over her face, but not before Mav spied a glimmer in her light brown gaze.
In the space of a breath, he switched gears from work to… something else. His arms itched to wrap around her. Provide comfort. Support.
What about more?
He would not answer dumb hypothetical questions.
She sat up straighter, shoving her long hair away from her face as she reached for her lab coat on the arm of the couch. “Does someone need me in the ER?” she said, pulling professionalism around her like armor, her jaw stiff.
“No. You’re good.” He hovered a few feet inside the room. At the end of the day, she looked like she could use a friend. “Ah, mind if I take a break with you?”
Lee’s shoulders rose and fell as she scooted over. The vee of the shamrock-green shirt emphasized the smooth line of her neck.
He swallowed. “Is this an exclusive restaurant or can anyone dine here?” He pointed at her makeshift meal.
Lee blinked, then waved a hand at the paper napkin with a half-eaten snack and an apple juice cup on the coffee table in front of her. “May I interest you in the chef’s special? All-natural artisan flatbread with a peanut reduction garnish paired with a late-harvest fruit cocktail?”
“A peanut butter packet and stale crackers?” He grinned, then wandered over to the counter with a basket full of packaged cookies, chips, and crackers that the dietary services staff stocked. He held up two packets of fig bars with a flourish. “I believe I’ll try the free-trade fruit compote wrapped in organic pastry dough. Let me get one for you as well.”
Her posture relaxed on a light snicker that made his heart thump. “Perhaps you would like to hear the beverage specials?”
Mav dropped onto the couch next to her, handing her one fig package and leaning forward to plate his bar on a folded napkin set at perfect right angles. “What do you recommend, garcon?”
Pursing her lips, she held an arm up as if a make-believe napkin were draped over it. “For you, sir,” she intoned, raising her light brown eyebrows, “I recommend the vintage Shasta lemon-lime cola. It’s like drinking a tropical sunrise with delicate undertones of ultrasound gel and chemical disinfectant.”
“Tempting. Do you have something that will pair with my heartier dessert?”
“Ah, sir, I can tell you have a discerning palate.” Her fingertips grazed his forearm as her eyes sparkled.
Mav’s stomach took a nosedive. A basic instinct drove him to make her smile and touch him again.
She continued, “In that case, may I suggest the house reserve Shasta root beer. It tastes exactly like filling out paperwork feels like. Emptiness with a numb aftertaste of despair that lingers without satisfying.” Lee kissed her fingers. “Magnifique.”
“Shastalicious.” Mav crossed the room to open the refrigerator, pulled out a plain Shasta cola, and returned to the couch. “I prefer a beverage that embodies professional suffering that is raw and underpaid, without any hope whatsoever of the sweet, sweet release of retirement.”
She choked back a laugh, then eyed his drink choice with brow-raised disdain. “Shasta cola. So plebian.” A sniff. “I suppose I’ll allow you to dine with me.”
A laugh came up from his gut. “Good to know you’ll lower your standards.”
Her smile froze, then dropped.
Mav’s neck muscles tensed. Somehow he’d hit a nerve. He wanted to find out what caused that pain, but this wasn’t the appropriate time or place.
“Cheers.” He lifted the small can of soda and thumped it against her flimsy apple juice cup.
They ate in thoughtful silence for a few minutes until the space between them changed from companionable to awkward.
When he finished his snack and wiped his mouth, he leaned back against the couch cushion and halfway faced her. “How’d Aggie take the news?”
Lee propped her elbows on her knees, folded her hands in front of her, and rested her chin on the fingertips. “Those are difficult conversations, and they take a lot out of me. They’re hard for the family, of course. As I’m explaining the situation, I always think about what else I could have done better with the situation.” With a sigh, she sat back, lacing her fingers together on her lap and turned toward him. “She’s a tough lady. Aggie was half worried and half mad, because—and I quote—‘If I’m the only one who cares about that big galloop’s health, then someone’s spending too much time and energy.’ I mean, she’s got a good point.”
“Bruce is a known mess, but he’s our mess. We’ll keep him duct-taped together.”
“Fair. Aggie was also worried about traveling to Fairbanks. She’s got her own health issues, and it’s hard for her to get out in the cold weather to drive. I told her that the doctors and nurses there would keep her updated, and she could go tomorrow when roads are better and she’s more rested. She was going to contact her son and let him know what was happening. He’ll try to catch a flight to Fairbanks if the weather lets him. Apparently, he’s an ER doc in Seattle, so it’ll be good for Bruce to have a family member who understands the situation and what Bruce needs to do to recover.”
“That’s Calvin. He grew up here. Bruce isn’t going to appreciate the medical expertise. He’s likely to give Cal an earful.” It had been years since Cal had been back. The guy might get an earful from some other folks in town, as well. “God willing, Bruce survives to complain another day.” The silence in the room spread out like a warm blanket. “Hey, did you have time for a debrief?”
“With the team after the code? Informally. Why?” She made to get up, and he gently squeezed her forearm to still her. “Do you want to provide feedback?” she said as the corners of her mouth dropped again.
She eased back onto the couch. The way she said the last word indicated that feedback meant criticism .
“Hey. My only comment is that you did a great job tonight.” He turned, moving his arm to drape over the couch cushions, wanting to be close but not crowd her. “That situation was not a guaranteed win.”
A flicker of doubt furrowed her forehead, and she finally answered. “Felt like a fish out of water.”
“You’re a doctor no matter where you practice. You have the training, and when it came time, you knew what to do.”
“With help.”
“No one does this work on their own, Doc. Not even a cocky paramedic who thinks he knows it all.”
She paused. “Lee.”
Mav held her gaze. “Do I have first-name permission now?”
Her gaze softened. “As you said, we got off on the wrong foot. I got defensive and leaned on rank.”
“I was out of line with my big mouth. Besides, it’s your rank to throw around.”
She rubbed her eyes. “That’s not true. You’re right in saying that everyone has a job to do here. And every job is critical. Obviously. Patients do well when everyone works together.”
With a flash of need, Mav wanted to be the one smoothing those tired furrows between her brows. To what end? Her job here was temporary. Mav didn’t do temporary. He didn’t do fish out of water, as she put it. He’d learned that lesson and then some.
He did do healthcare colleague support. “Some roles have higher levels of responsibility. We might be a team, but you’re the quarterback.”
“Hmm. Does that make you the running back?”
He pretend-flexed an arm and swaggered while sitting. “Tight end, probably.”
A bright sunshine laugh burst out of her. “You’re not wrong.” Then a red blush crept up her neck and cheeks as she glanced down then up. “Oh my. Welp.” The laughter faded.
Huh. His chest warmed and he drank in view of her pink cheeks and sparkling eyes. “You seemed very composed in that trauma bay.”
“Like a duck swimming, calm on the surface and paddling frantically underneath the water.”
“If you had nerves, you hid it well. Although—”
Sucking in a breath, she pulled back. “What?”
“Couldn’t help but notice that your words got longer and longer the further into the code we went. That accent became more pronounced.”
Scowling, she said, “That’s my tell. The worse the situation gets, the slower I talk. One-syllable words become three-syllable words.”
“Even bad words?”
“Especially those!” They chuckled together, and she rested her head against the couch cushion.
His fingers brushed her golden hair. Just a small touch.
One corner of her mouth rose. “The drawl didn’t stick out as much when I was in Georgia.”
“So that’s where you’re from? I guessed Alabama.”
She made a smelled-something-bad face that drew another chuckle from deep in his gut. It had been way too long since Mav had relaxed and laughed.
A few seconds later, her sigh washed over him like a warm breeze as she murmured, “Guess I’d best write up my notes from Bruce’s code. Check on my other patients before leaving for the night.” The professional armor fell back into place.
“Lee.”
Her head whipped up.
He breathed in the light floral and berry scent that was uniquely hers. “Everyone has to take time to crack a little bit. Let out the pressure.”
“But I’m supposed to be an example. Strong. Steady.”
“Doesn’t matter who you are on the team. It’s important. No one is an island, as the saying goes.”
“Are you saying that you also… crack?”
His days of trying to act tough were long past him. Mav had years of experience in the field. He’d seen his fair share of disasters and miracles, including the heartache that came with some cases. Part of the issue with being the EMS director was similar to what Lee was going through. He had to remain strong for the team, but Mav had learned that his job also included good mental health habits. “Everyone has a breaking point. The trick is letting the stress out as things happen, bit by bit, and not stuffing it away to explode later.”
“I’m not a ticking time bomb.”
“I’m no munitions expert. But I do know when someone might need a friend. Or an ear.” He met her gaze. “Or a hug.”
Lee froze.