CHAPTER 28
The following days passed in a blur of relaxation and routine.
Beth hadn’t fully unpacked everything from the emotional storm of the previous weeks—but there’d been no new drama, no fresh gossip, and for now, that was enough.
Days off together, wedding planning, and intimate moments with Bryce, she was finally starting to breathe again.
It was the proverbial calm before the storm she encountered when she returned to work.
“Alright, Mr. Berry, that should do it,” Beth said gently, pressing the final adhesive strip over the gauze on his leg.
“Next time your wife’s gone, do me a favor and order takeout.”
With a sheepish smile, Walter Berry—an elderly patient with thick glasses and a gray mustache—confessed his attempt at cooking had been to avoid the cost of dining out.
His quiet admission earned Beth her first real laugh of the day—something she hadn’t realized she needed after the tension-filled morning.
“Trust me, it’ll be cheaper in the long run.
Your burns could’ve been a lot worse. You’re lucky—only one second-degree burn out of a dozen.
Can I ask why you thought making a roast in a disposable pie pan was a good idea?
” Beth asked, helping the slight man into his plaid button-down shirt.
At eighty-something, she wanted to assess whether this was poor judgment or something more serious.
“Well, my Betsy’s awfully picky about her pots and pans.
When we were first married, I used one as a drip pan while changing the oil in the car.
She made me buy her a whole new set. Fifty years later, she was still reminding me.
Figured I didn’t want to risk ruining another one, so I used the pan from the store-bought pie.
Didn’t realize it was too flimsy. Folded up like a taco when I took it out of the oven. ”
His matter-of-fact tone made Beth smile and eased her concerns. It wasn’t a memory issue—just a case of bad judgment. If anyone knew how one decision could snowball into something life-changing… it was her.
“If you attempt to cook again while the missus is gone, pick up a disposable roasting pan. Was any of the meal salvageable?”
“Nope. Still a block of ice in the middle. Sad day when frozen meat fights back—and wins.”
Beth’s head fell forward in laughter. She reached into her scrub pocket and pulled out a small card.
“What’s that?” Walter asked, as she handed it to him.
“A meal voucher for the cafeteria. It may not be your Betsy’s cooking, but at least it won’t be frozen. And today’s special just so happens to be—pot roast.”
“Thank you kindly, young lady.”
“You’re very welcome. Anything else before the doctor comes to discharge you?”
“Yeah—how do you clean an oven?”
Beth blinked, then let out a startled laugh. Not a polite chuckle—a real laugh. The kind that caught her off guard and kept going until tears pricked her eyes.
Walter watched with mild amusement. “What’d I say?”
She swiped at her cheeks, still grinning. “I’m sorry. It’s just… that might be the most honest question I’ve gotten all day.”
“Well, honesty’s free, even if roast pans aren’t.”
Beth laughed again, softer this time. “Alright. Soft sponge, Ajax, and a whole lot of elbow grease. If that’s it, I’d better go round up a doctor so you can grab that meal.”
“I’ll see you next time.”
“As much as I’ve enjoyed your company, Mr. Berry, I hope there isn’t a next time. Take care of yourself until the missus gets back. She sounds like a special lady—I would have loved to have met her.”
“Thank you for everything, young lady,” Walter said, giving Beth a warm, grandfatherly hug.
“It was my pleasure. Wait here—a doctor should be in shortly.”
Beth stepped into the hallway—only to stop short.
Bryce.
He was striding down the corridor toward her, clipboard in hand, hair slightly tousled, looking perfectly at ease. The complete opposite of how she felt.
Her heart hiccupped.
She hadn’t expected to see him yet—his shift wasn’t supposed to start until 1:30 PM—and today was her first time back at work since Bryce had emailed out their marriage announcement.
She glanced around. She could feel it. The stares. The whispers. Everyone knew they weren’t just coworkers anymore.
Beth straightened her shoulders automatically, every muscle tightening.
She was suddenly hyper-aware of her surroundings—of the staff walking by, of Mae and Crystal at the nurses’ station.
Mae leaned forward in her chair, forearms braced on the desk, openly intrigued.
Crystal stood stiffly beside her, arms crossed, jaw tight, radiating jealousy like heat from a burner.
Bryce reached her and gave a lazy, appreciative grin. “Hey, gorgeous.”
“You’re here early,” Beth said, with trepidation in her voice.
“You’re not gonna believe this, but I’m actually not early. It’s already 2:00 PM. You must’ve lost track of time.” Bryce reached out instinctively to brush her arm—affectionate but still professional.
Beth flinched. Not dramatically. Just a small, subtle stiffening of her posture. But he noticed.
“I must have,” she echoed, her usual warmth noticeably absent.
Bryce’s smile faltered.
“I have a patient in 4 ready to be discharged, Doctor,” she added, her tone clipped and formal.
Bryce blinked at the sudden chill. “Right,” he said, recovering quickly. “I’m between patients. After you… Nurse.” He added a wink to soften the moment.
Beth shot him a glare over her shoulder as she turned to lead the way.
“Nurse Beth, you’re faster than I thought,” Walter said, fumbling with the bandage on his wrist, his tone gruff.
“Mr. Berry, what are you doing?” Beth asked gently, stepping in to retape the gauze. Her hands moved with practiced ease.
“Tried putting my watch on, but it wouldn’t fit around the bandage. Got stuck on the gauze.”
He nodded toward Bryce. “You the doctor?”
“Yes, sir,” Bryce said, stepping closer. “Looks like you were treated for minor burns?”
“That I was.”
“Has Nurse… Stoner?” He froze mid-sentence, realizing they had never actually discussed whether she would take his name.
He caught himself, glanced quickly at Beth, then looked back at the patient. “Has the nurse explained your care instructions for home?”
“Yes, BETH has. BETH also told me to quit cooking for myself and gave me the printout on how to care for these burns. You might not bother to learn the names of the nurses, but with ones like BETH around, the only reason folks like you are needed is to write prescriptions and send people on their way. So go ahead—get to it and discharge me.”
“You are right about that, sir. She is indeed a very capable woman. Let me fill out these discharge papers, and I’ll be happy to get you out of here.”
The “sir” that came out of Bryce’s mouth sounded anything but respectful.
Based on her curt greeting in the hallway Bryce suspected Beth was having a bad day and two minutes with this grumpy old man? Bryce assumed he was the reason, and he didn’t like it one bit.
Beth rocked back on her heels and leaned against the wall, watching the men interact, puzzled.
Bryce was known for his bedside manner—his ‘bedside tone,’ as everyone called it.
Even with the most difficult patients, he was calm, composed, and kind.
She’d been the recipient of that tone more than once since they got married—his ability to soothe her when she felt skittish was something she’d come to count on.
Yet here he was, snapping at Mr. Berry.
What was even more surprising—Walter, who had been a total sweetheart just minutes ago, now looked ready to bite Bryce’s head off.
It didn’t make sense.
But then it did.
Beth watched them both a moment longer. The pieces began to fall into place. They were both offended on her behalf.
And both wrong.
And this? This, she could fix.
“You know, Mr. Berry,” Beth said, her voice adopting a playful, teasing lilt as she stepped between the two grumpy men, “we are very lucky that Doctor Jensen walked by when I stepped out. Want to know why?”
Walter crossed his arms. “Let me guess—because everyone thinks he’s the best. Clearly, he does.”
This time, there was no attempt to hide his dislike. Causing Beth to bite back a laugh as her husband flinched.
“While that’s true,” Beth said, a smile playing on her lips, “I was thinking more along the lines of how lucky I am that my husband got to meet my new favorite patient.”
“Your what?” they said in unison.
“Mr. Berry, this is my husband, Dr. Jensen. Bryce, meet Mr. Walter Berry. He’s the reason I lost track of time—I was enjoying his stories while bandaging him up.”
Bryce extended his hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, sir.”
This time, the sir came out more questioning than rude.
Walter eyed the offered hand before shaking it. “Different last names, huh?”
“We were recently married—this is one of our first shifts working directly together since our marriage was announced,” Bryce explained. “I stumbled over her name because we haven’t really discussed whether she’s changing it.”
“I am, I just haven’t had time.”
“Ah,” Walter nodded. “I thought you didn’t know her name because you were too arrogant to learn it. Sorry, son, but this one’s a gem; she’s worth protecting.”
“Yes, she is,” Bryce said, his voice softening, “and believe me, I knew her name long before she ever learned mine.”
He turned to Beth, a smile tugging at his lips—not the teasing one he usually wore, but one laced with awe. Like she was the miracle he still couldn’t believe God had sent.
“Some mornings I still wake up stunned,” he added, his eyes locked on hers. “That she married me. That she’s mine.”
This time, when Bryce slipped his arm around her waist, Beth didn’t stiffen or pull away. Beth’s cheeks flushed, but she smiled.
Walter smiled too, eyes misty. “I know the feeling, son. My Betsy always made me feel the same way.”
Bryce exhaled slowly, forcing himself to refocus. He was still on shift. He had a job to do. As much as he wanted to get lost in his wife’s eyes, he needed to compose himself.
He turned back to Walter, schooling his features into something closer to professional.
“Here’s your prescription,” Bryce said, handing over the paperwork. “Anything else we can do for you today?”
Walter stood, brushing off his pants. “Not unless you’ve got a time machine. Thanks for everything, Doc. Take care of that little gal.”
“I plan to.”
Beth stepped forward and hugged Walter again. “I’m gonna tell my Betsy all about you when I take her flowers. She’d have liked you. Did I mention she was a nurse before we married?”
“No, I don’t believe you did,” Beth said with a warm smile. Bryce nodded thoughtfully.
“Ahhh, it’s all making sense now,” Bryce said slowly, flashing a sly grin. “That’s why you don’t like doctors. Was she dating one before you swept her off her feet with your… charm?” he deadpanned.
Walter barked a laugh. “Actually, she was.” He gave a knowing smile. “Always got under that old slicker’s skin that my Betsy left him and married a ‘simpleton’ mechanic.” He shook his head, chuckling at the memory.
They all laughed.
“Do you always get her flowers after she’s been away?” Beth said softly.
Walter’s eyes grew glassy. “I bring her flowers once a week. To make up for all the years I didn’t.”
He looked directly at Bryce. “Don’t make that mistake, young man.” Walter stuck out his hand.
“I won’t, sir.”
There it was—the respect in Bryce’s voice, genuine and clear.
Beth blinked. “Mr. Berry… when you said Betsy was gone, you didn’t mean out of town, did you?”
Walter smiled gently. “No. But you were so kind I didn’t want to correct you. It was nice, pretending for a couple of hours that she was coming home.”
He gathered his things with quiet dignity. “Thank you, dear. Goodbye.”
He kissed Beth’s cheek and walked out with a proud, if slightly limping, stride. It had been a sweet illusion—for a little while—that Betsy might be coming home.
“He was such a sweetheart. I hate knowing he’s all alone,” Beth whispered, her eyes misty.
“Give him a follow-up call in a few days. Invite him to church and lunch after. Maybe Pastor Steve and Tami can come too. I bet they’d hit it off.”
Beth smiled. “That’s a good idea. Thanks. And maybe they’ll know what a… slicker is?” she added, giggling at the unfamiliar word.
“We have smartphones for a reason,” Bryce pulled his out. “Slicker: someone who is smooth and persuasive but untrustworthy.”
He studied her for a moment, then gently reached for her hand, drawing her closer in a slow, sweet, endearing motion.
“If Mr. Berry isn’t the reason you were upset… what is?”
Beth’s sigh was heavy. “How did you know I was upset?”
“It’s in your eyes. In your smile—it doesn’t reach them. In how you reacted to my touch. So… what’s going on, Sweetheart?”
Beth looked down. “Let’s just say… I’m not the only nurse who used to call you Doctor Handsome. And apparently, some of them aren’t thrilled about the marriage.”
“Someone actually said something to you?”
“Not directly. But they’ve made sure I hear every rude and catty comment behind my back,” Beth sighed. “Well… Mae did say something. She asked how I could be a Christian and lie about our relationship.”
Bryce’s brows drew together. “Which one is Mae?”
“She was at the nurses’ station when you found me in the hall. About 5’3”, long brown curls, glasses, delicate features, early thirties. Pretty eyes.”
“Right.” Bryce nodded, “Did you lie to her about us?”
“No. Well… not exactly.” Beth rubbed her stomach, the nerves from earlier returning like a dull ache. Bryce’s eyes followed the movement, concern flickering across his face.
“She asked if I was interested in you—before Vegas—and I said no. Now she thinks I was hiding something.”
Bryce exhaled, watching her closely.
“I said something vague,” Beth continued. “That I hadn’t planned to date you, it just… happened. She got upset and walked off.”
A pause. Then, quieter: “And now I’m realizing how much worse it’ll probably be since we stayed in here with the door closed after our patient left.”
Bryce tilted his head, a hint of his usual mischief returning. “So what I’m hearing is… we should start making out. That way, at least the rumors would be true.”
Beth huffed a laugh, shaking her head—but she didn’t pull away when he reached out and brushed a finger along her arm. It wasn’t much, but the blush and the smile she gave him was real. Small, but real. Bryce didn’t push. Instead, he stepped back, hands sliding into his pockets.
“Will you stop by my office when your shift ends?” he asked, voice gentler now. “I should be in there by 7:30.”
Beth hesitated, then gave a slow nod. “Sure. I’ll see you then… Doctor.”
The teasing edge in her voice was faint, but it was there.