16. Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
Clutching his pirate hat over his pounding heart, Kieran watched the firefighters lift Addy’s patient into their truck. Where the hell was the ambulance?
After subduing old Dave Budny, who melted into a puddle of tears once he realized his flashback freak-out had hurt two kids far more than their dumbassery deserved, Kieran had hovered as close as he dared to watch Addy work.
Simply awe-inspiring, the way she remained calm and commanding amid the chaos of panicked drunks. If she hadn’t been there, that poor, stupid kid would’ve bled to death in the middle of Main Street.
Kieran had seen that boy and his buddies on the beach, whooping it up around their beer cooler and yelling ugliness at passing women. Probably never occurred to him that an old man with hair-trigger self-control would be his undoing.
While Halloween partygoers drifted back into the bar, Officer Jefferson handcuffed old Dave and lowered him into the police cruiser. Addy’s friend approached Kieran, wiping her hands on her torn dress. “Well, that was a shitshow,” she muttered. “Think anyone will step up for that poor man?”
“I’ll swing by the VFW. I’m sure his vet buddies will look in on him.”
“Does Trappers Cove have a support group for people like him?”
“Yeah. It’s called happy hour at the VFW.”
The woman scowled.
“Sorry, ma’am. I’m not making light of the problem. I’m sure you know how hard it can be to find mental health help these days, especially in a small town.”
“I do indeed. Us military folks have it better than most civilians in that respect, and even on base, wait times for counseling can be way too long.” She patted his arm. “By the way, Addy mentioned your oil rig fire. I hope you don’t mind.”
He shook his head. “I’m glad she has someone she can talk to about the important things.”
“Do you have someone like that?” Her gaze held quiet compassion.
While he could call almost everyone in Trappers Cove a friendly acquaintance, outside of the therapy group he’d abandoned, Addy was the only person he felt comfortable opening up to. Hell, most of his neighbors didn’t even know his proper name, a fact that hadn’t bothered him until tonight.
He’d better remedy that self-imposed distance quick because if the perfect storm of triggers hit him like it had old Dave, who’s to say he wouldn’t spiral into madness, hurting himself or others?
Addy’s friend gently gripped his arm. “Tell you what. Let me ride along to the VFW and make sure everyone’s okay. Then we can talk about trauma therapy resources on our way to the hospital.”
“All right, let’s go.”
“Like attracts like,” his mother would say in her lucid moments, and his Addy—unselfish, duty-driven, compassionate—had drawn to her a friend with the same admirable qualities. Doctor Liv had a better chance than most at getting through to the walled-off vets who gathered in that dingy bar.
Over the past year or so, Kieran had inched toward acknowledging that he needed help, but tonight’s events delivered a hard shove right to the gut. For Addy’s sake, he’d do his damnedest to conquer his demons—before they destroyed his best chance at happiness.
Holding a surgical mask to her face, the night-duty medical assistant poked her head through the OR door. “MedEvac chopper’s ten minutes out. And Chief Hawthorne would like to talk to Doctor Connor as soon as she’s available.”
“Thanks, Kit.” PA Jorge Rosado handed Addy a pair of forceps.
“Our patient will be ready.” Buzzing with satisfaction and relief, Addy finished the surgical repair that stabilized the young man for transport to the trauma center in Portland.
“Our Caden got lucky tonight,” the nurse anesthetist remarked. “If you hadn’t been on site, he wouldn’t have made it.”
“Not just me.” Addy tied off the last suture. “All of you too.”
The NA, who serviced three regional hospitals on the Washington coast, had been nearby chaperoning her son’s high school Halloween dance, and the physician’s assistant on duty had served in a modular field hospital in Iraq, so he was well qualified to double as a surgical nurse.
Without their help, the young man on the table would definitely have bled out.
Later, in the scrub room, PA Rosado peeled off his bloody gloves. “Thank God I won’t have to tell Caden’s parents he died—and how.”
Addy squeezed his shoulder. “The hardest part of the job, for sure. I’m glad you were here to help.”
Her assistant chuckled. “Gotta say, even the worst cases here are easier on my soul than what we encountered in Fallujah.”
“How’d you end up in Trappers Cove?” Addy asked.
“My gramps left me his house here. It’s a nice town. Quiet. Good people.” He tossed his surgical gown into the bin. “Like Caden’s parents. Salt of the earth, but too permissive with their late-in-life miracle baby.”
What would it be like, Addy wondered, to know her patients as well as Rosado did? With frequent changes of duty station, military life didn’t lend itself to that kind of relationship. Another point against staying in the Army.
“Will you brief Caden’s parents?” she asked. “They’d probably rather hear from a trusted friend than a stranger.”
“Of course.” He gave her a warm smile. “And don’t you be a stranger, Doctor Connor. Come back and see us next time you’re in town.”
Addy grumbled to herself as she finished her post-op clean-up. What an outrage for a community hospital to have only a physician’s assistant on duty on Halloween, of all nights! The on-call doc, a family practitioner, had taken his sweet time coming in to stitch up the other kid’s shredded hand.
Trappers Cove hadn’t had an on-call surgeon in years, according to the PA. Typical small-town hospital, chronically understaffed and unable to lure highly paid specialists.
Jittery on the tail end of the adrenalin rush that fueled tonight’s work, Addy heaved a shaky sigh. Her patient had survived, but he had a long, rough recovery ahead of him. And for what? The momentary thrill of traumatizing an old man? This kind of senseless injury was the absolute worst.
And now came the inevitable paperwork.
Kieran was waiting on a bench opposite the nurse’s station, still in full pirate regalia and idly flipping through a celebrity gossip magazine. As soon as he caught sight of her, he sprang to his feet and enveloped her in his arms.
God, it felt so good to be held by him, and in two more days, she’d have to leave him. She squeezed her eyes shut to hold back brimming tears.
“You’re shaking, love. Here.” He slid out of his velveteen coat and draped it around her shoulders.
“Aftereffect of an adrenalin surge,” she assured him, but all the same, it was lovely to be wrapped up in his warmth and woodsy scent.
He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “You’re a hero, Addy.”
She snuggled into his embrace. “I just did what needed to be done.”
And that’s why she had to leave him for a while. She had other duties to attend to before she could consider her own desires.
Kieran went to fetch coffee and snacks from the vending machines while Police Chief Jess Hawthorne interviewed Addy and thanked her for saving the victim’s life.
“Chief, what will happen to that poor old man?”
“Dave? I imagine the judge will go easy on him if he commits to treatment for his PTSD. Of course, that means leaving town, and he’s gonna hate that. Dave keeps his orbit small: home, the Food Co-op, church, and the VFW.”
Stepping up beside them, Liv tsked. “It’s a damn shame help isn’t available closer.”
“True,” the chief said, snapping her notebook shut. “Small-town life comes with trade-offs.”
Liv gave Addy a pointed look. “Yeah, but health-care access shouldn’t be one of them.”
“What’s that stare about?” Addy asked once the cop left. “You know I can’t give that old man the kind of help he needs.”
“No, but this town’s badly in need of someone with your skills. And isn’t this what you’ve been looking for? A quiet home where you can breathe, recover, sink some roots?”
Addy scowled and searched the room for Kieran, or anyone who could interrupt Liv’s too-sharp questioning.
From down the hall came a metallic clang, a thump, and a string of Irish-inflected curses.
“When did I ever talk about sinking roots?”
Liv ticked off on her fingers. “Over coffee last week, at Johnson’s retirement party, on our last girl’s weekend.”
That’s the trouble with befriending someone with a mind like a steel trap—they build up an arsenal of your own words to use against you.
Kieran finally returned with three half-full paper cups and cellophane-wrapped Danish. “Sorry, ladies. Uncooperative machines.”
Liv took her cup and moved off to chat with the nurses, and to give Addy and Kieran space, no doubt.
Kieran sat on a padded bench along the wall and pulled Addy down beside him. While she sipped her lousy coffee and let its warmth infuse her exhausted body, he massaged her tense neck muscles, which melted like butter under his firm touch.
“You were amazing tonight, Addy. You could do a lot of good here, you know.”
She groaned with pleasure and a tinge of regret. “I wish it were that simple.”
“I suppose your friend is staying at your place?”
“Afraid so.” She leaned onto his shoulder.
“I like her.” He nuzzled her hair. “Smart. Kind. We talked a lot tonight. She gave me a different perspective.”
“Yeah?” She took a big bite of bland, sugary pastry.
“Tonight was the kick in the arse I needed.” He swiveled to face her. “Addy, I’m going back to therapy. I can’t let myself get like old Dave, haunted and brittle and ready to snap.” He seized her icing-smeared hand and kissed her knuckles. “I want to be strong enough to deserve you.”
Tears stung her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.
“Kieran, it’s not a question of deserving.
You’re a wonderful man, kind and wise and so sexy you make my knees weak.
” She stroked his jaw, his beard scratchy-soft under her palm.
“I love you, my handsome pirate. You’re helping me face my demons in a way even Liv couldn’t. ”
“I am?” His smile glowed with joy and hope, so sweet and beautiful she had to kiss him in front of the ER staff, something she’d never have done before meeting this dear, brave man.
But saying ‘I love you’ was the easy part. Building a love strong enough to last? That would take time, courage, honesty…and she had a lot of baggage to unload before she could make herself fully available to him. He deserved her full attention, and right now, she couldn’t give it.
“I’ve been stupidly prideful,” she admitted, “thinking I could handle my PTSD on my own. Now I see how important it is to accept help—and not just from sympathetic friends.” She smooched his lips again. “But I’ll never heal until I close out some ugly unfinished business. Will you wait for me?”
“Until the tides still, Doc.” He pulled her onto his lap. “Until the world stops spinning.”
Giggling, she wound her arms around his neck. “It won’t take that long, love. And I’ll miss you every second I’m away.” She rained kisses over his beaming face. “Think you can sleep tonight?”
“Without you? Probably not much.”
“Hey Liv,” she called, and her tactful friend turned to face them.
“Here.” She tossed her keys. “Make yourself at home. I’m going to Kieran’s tonight.”
Liv grinned widely. “Don’t you want to pack a bag first?”
“Nope.” She kissed Kieran’s forehead. “I’ve got all I need.”