Carrying The Surgeon's Baby. Amy Ruttan

she’d admired about him. He was driven and that’s why he was the best there was in neurosurgery and why she’d striven to continue to rise in her chosen field.

      There had been so many people who’d said she couldn’t be a surgeon when she struggled with Asperger’s, when she struggled with social anxieties, but she had risen above so much to get where she was. She worked longer hours. She worked hard.

      To be perfect. To be the best.

      Her pregnancy made her human and that had been a hard pill to swallow, but she’d never shied away from her mistakes, but to think that she and Ryan had something more than just a momentary attraction was silly.

       It’s not momentary. You’re still attracted to him.

      And her cheeks heated as he picked up the scrub pants. She cleared her throat and looked away. “I’ll be out in the hall and then we can head down to the OR.”

      “Fine,” he said, but there was a devilish twinkle in his eyes as if he knew that he was affecting her and she hated that.

      She slipped out of the attendings’ lounge and leaned against the wall, closing her eyes and trying to catch her breath. When she opened them again, she could see a few of the interns, nurses and even physicians watching her, whispering as they looked at her belly.

       Dammit.

      She hated being the center of attention when it came to gossip. She didn’t mind it when it was about her work, but when it involved her baby and now her supposed marriage to Ryan, it bothered her.

      The door to the lounge opened up and Ryan stepped out wearing scrubs instead of his street clothes. He looked good in the dark blue of the SMFPC attending colors. The color brought out the intensity of his cerulean eyes.

      “You okay?” he asked.

      “Fine.”

       Liar.

      “You look a bit pale. Are you overdoing it?”

      “No. I’m fine. Let’s go, they’re waiting for us in OR two and I don’t want that patient in therapeutic hypothermia any longer than he has to be.”

      “Lead the way.”

      Emily led Ryan down to the OR floor. They didn’t say anything to each other, but she could feel the stares as they passed through the halls. Gossip spread like wildfire in this hospital and she would have to have a word with Dr. Teal.

      They stopped just outside the wide hall that led toward the many operating rooms. She pulled on her scrub cap and showed Ryan where to get a generic one. She hung up her white lab coat, changed her shoes. Ryan covered his shoes with booties. He’d have a pair of sneakers that would be just for the OR floor.

      “You ready?” she asked.

      “Always.” He smiled at her and it was full of confidence.

      “Come on.” She punched in a code and opened the door. She always liked this walk down the hallway. It was calming. There were gurneys and equipment waiting in the wings, sometimes there would be a gurney roll by that was accompanied by a parent and a child life support person as SMFPC supported the parental presence at induction, and those cases always made her smile.

      There was fear in the parents’ eyes, hidden behind their masks, but they were strong for their children and their presence really promoted the well-being and health of the children.

      Then there were cases like this little boy they were attending.

      Priority A, where a young life was on the line.

      She ran a hand over her belly and glanced up at Ryan, whose gaze was on her belly, before he met her eyes briefly. There was pain in his eyes, but also fear.

      “The scrub room is here,” she said, breaking the tension that fell between them.

      He nodded and walked into the room before her. The scrub room overlooked the operating room where their young patient was lying. The rest of the operating room team was prepping him and the anesthesiologists were waiting.

      Ryan was scrubbing, staring at his patient intently, as she often did herself. She would play out the surgery in her mind, like a playbook.

      “Do you think you’ll be successful?” she asked, because she knew he was a great neurosurgeon but she’d never worked with him before and none of the neurosurgeons at SMFPC would ever attempt therapeutic hypothermia on a child younger than sixteen. Ryan was a bit of a maverick. Maybe that’s why she’d been so attracted to him in the first place. He was so different from Robert, who had always done things by the book.

      So different from her.

      “Of course.” He smiled confidently. “I’ve done this before.”

      “Good, because I’ve never done this.”

      “You’ve never done a spinal decompression and a repair of a fracture?”

      “Yes. I’ve assisted with that, but I’ve never dealt with a child in hypothermia like this.”

      “It’ll work, Emily,” Ryan said gently, before he shook off his hands and toweled them dry. “Trust me.”

      Emily continued scrubbing as he headed into the operating room. He’d asked her to trust him and she wanted to do that, for their patient’s sake, but she had a hard time trusting someone she didn’t know.

      She liked routine. She liked certain anesthesiologists, certain residents, certain scrub nurses in her operating room. The routine gave her a sense of calm, and she’d never worked with Ryan before.

       He’s the best.

      And that’s what she had to keep telling herself. She shook off her hands and then headed into the operating room. Her favorite scrub nurse, Nancy, helped her into her gown and gloves. Emily also had to remind herself that she was not lead surgeon here.

      Ryan was.

      She might be the head of pediatric surgery, but he was the neurosurgeon and she had to put her faith in him and what he thought was best. He’d been there when the accident had come in. He’d got all the permissions from the patient’s parents. He knew the chart best.

      Emily looked up into the gallery and could see the chief of surgery watching, as well as a few of the interns and residents.

      They’d come to see the show.

      Ryan’s reputation preceded him.

      She had to get a grip on all her self-doubt and focus on this moment, because soon there would be a set of babies on this table and it would be a team, led by her and Ryan, as they worked to separate the babies and give them a chance at life.

      She approached the operating table and took the second position across from him. Dr. Sharipova was there, as well as Dr. Teal, but Dr. Teal would just be observing.

      “Dr. Teal, would you read off the chart for the record?” Ryan said, totally ignoring the fact Dr. Sharipova was the resident and should be reading it out for the OR record.

      Dr. Teal looked toward her and Emily nodded. “Go on, Dr. Teal.”

      Amanda nodded. “Jason Klassen is a ten-year-old male patient with a break in the spine from the C7 to the T3. Patient was placed in a medicated coma and induced into therapeutic hypothermia in Portland for transfer. This surgery will reverse the hypothermia and we will attempt to repair the damage to the spine.”

      “Not attempt, Dr. Teal,” Ryan said brightly. “We will.”

      “Right,” Dr. Teal responded, her voice catching.

      “Ready when you are, Dr. Gary,” Emily said.

      Ryan nodded. “Scalpel.”

      * * *

      Emily might not want to admit that she was tired and hurting after hours in the