The Nurse's Christmas Wish. Sarah Morgan

to privacy. ‘In case it’s escaped your notice, I have a busy job. I give everything I have to the hospital. I don’t have time for anything else.’

      She nodded slowly. ‘That’s what I thought. But what about you, Mac? Who gives to you?’

      He frowned. ‘I have everything I need.’

      ‘Maybe you don’t know what you need.’ She took the X-rays from him. ‘This is going to cause Alice a problem. She looks after her elderly sister. Does everything. Shopping and cooking. She can’t do that with a broken wrist.’

      Mac gave a brief nod, impressed that she’d discovered that so quickly. ‘Good point. We’ll give Social Services a ring. Get them some help.’

      ‘I’m not sure that they’re the sort to accept help easily. They’re obviously very independent.’

      ‘Well, if there’s no family to step in, what’s the alternative?’ Mac asked patiently, and Louisa chewed her lip thoughtfully.

      ‘I don’t know, but I’m working on it.’

      ‘Don’t tell me.’ His tone was dry. ‘Your interfering personality again?’

      ‘Probably.’

      She looked so worried that Mac gave a sigh. ‘She’s a sweet lady, I grant you, but it isn’t our job to care for her until her bones heal.’

      She lifted an eyebrow. ‘That’s a cop-out.’

      He inhaled deeply. She was doing it again. Making him feel guilty. ‘What do you expect me to do? Move in with all my patients?’ His tone was testy but he couldn’t help it. ‘Our job is to patch them up, Louisa. Someone else has to sort out the other stuff.’

      ‘But I don’t believe the ‘‘other stuff’’, as you call it, can be so neatly separated,’ Louisa said calmly, tucking the X-rays under her arm. ‘A patient is so much more than just a broken wrist.’

      Mac’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’re too idealistic. This is the real world, Louisa. Too many patients, too few staff. If we mend the broken bones then we’re doing well. We certainly don’t have time to sort out the rest of people’s lives.’

      She gave him a smile designed to melt the heart of the most hardened cynic. ‘You’re working too hard, Dr Sullivan. You’ve developed tunnel vision. These patients of yours are human beings, not bones. And Alice is your neighbour.’

      ‘You can drop the ‘‘Dr Sullivan’’. If you’re going to abuse me, you may as well use my first name,’ he said dryly, and she chuckled.

      ‘All right, but I still think you’re working too hard. Someone needs to reintroduce you to the world.’