Nurse To Forever Mum. Susan Carlisle

of the tear. “This isn’t going to be enough.”

      “Why not?” his new clinical nurse asked.

      “Because I’m not pleased with the blood flow.”

      She looked at him. “So, what’re you going to do?”

      He glared back at her. “Ms. Ryder, I don’t usually teach procedure during my operations.”

      “I’m sure you don’t but I’d like to know enough to help the families understand and also save you time when you talk to them.”

      Cody couldn’t fault her logic. “I’m going to make the lining bleed and then suture it together. First I need to make another incision to work through to do that.” As he did so, blood oozed into the field, making his visibility poor. Without him having to ask, Stacey used already prepared gauzes on forceps to wipe it away.

      “We need to get that under control before I continue,” he stated. “I’m ready to suture.”

      His surgical nurse handed him the equipment required.

      “Nurse Ryder, I need you to keep the area clear while I work.”

      “Yes, sir.” She replaced the gauze and dabbed the area.

      Cody watched. “Good.” He worked the thread into a neat stitch.

      “Doctor, since you seem to have improved your tying skills since this morning, I’m going to speak to the family now. They must be anxious.”

      Cody frowned at her. Her eyes snapped with humor. That second he realized why he recognized those eyes. She was referring to his inability to tie Lizzy’s bow. They would have a talk about her OR decorum later. His voice tight with disapproval, he said, “Please tell the family I’ll be out to see them in soon.”

      “Yes, sir.” She quietly left.

      For some reason the room suddenly felt cooler.

      * * *

      Stacey was still sitting with the family when Dr. Brennan strolled into the waiting room with a smile on his face. She had to admit it was a nice one. For a while there, she hadn’t been sure if he knew how to form one. It was so congenial she was sure if he turned it on her, her stomach would flutter. Stacey wrinkled her nose. Why would she think that?

      Had she overstepped in the OR when she’d teased him about “tying” his stitches? By the steely look in his eye she might well have. Sometimes her humor was misplaced. She was so used to working in laid-back, often difficult conditions where levity was required. This wasn’t one of those situations. In fact, this was the nicest, most upscale medical facility she’d ever been in.

      When the director of the World Travel Nursing Agency had told her about her next assignment, she’d shared with Stacey information about the fabulous care given at the Maple Island Clinic. It turned out it was true, right down to the beautiful island and the top-notch physicians.

      Dr. Brennan certainly knew his stuff. She’d seen enough good and bad surgeries on her journeys to recognize a surgeon with exceptional skills. Not just the abilities acquired through training and experience, but that special touch inherent in someone devoted to his patients’ welfare. Did that quality extend to other areas of his life?

      He’d been great with his daughter, despite his charming ineptness with her bow. It probably came more from being in a hurry rather than incompetence. Something about Dr. Brennan’s manner made her believe he worked hard at being confident and competent in every aspect of his life. She also had the idea he was driven to keep any weakness or flaws well concealed.

      “Here’s Dr. Brennan now,” Stacey said to the middle-aged mother of their patient seated beside her. Releasing her hand, Stacey stood. “I’m sure he can tell you more.”

      Dr. Brennan had pulled a long white lab coat over his scrubs. His thick chestnut hair was still mussed from removing his surgical cap. She guessed he’d only run a hand through it because a lock hung over his forehead. The effect gave him a less polished look than he’d had that morning in front of the day care. Deciding she liked this version better, Stacey stepped out of his way.

      He sat on the edge of the chair she had vacated and turned to the mother. “Your son’s doing very well and is in Recovery right now. He’ll be in some pain, but I promise we’re handling it. You’ll be able to see him in about an hour.”

      “Oh, Dr. Brennan. Thank you for taking care of him. Do you think this’ll get him back on the tennis court?”

      He nodded. “I have complete confidence it will. Now, why don’t you go get something to eat and meet him in his room?” He turned to Stacey. “Nurse, would you please direct his family to the room where Mr. Washington will be?”

      Stacey wasn’t sure where that would be, but she’d find out somehow. She wasn’t about to make her ignorance of that detail obvious to him so she answered with confidence. “I’ll be glad to.”

      His attention returned to Mrs. Washington and he placed a hand on her shoulder. “If you need anything, will you let me or Nurse—”

      “Please make it Stacey.” She looked at the woman with warmth before giving Dr. Brennan a pointed stare.

      A thin smile curved his lips and he nodded once before leaving the way he’d come.

      Stacey settled the Washington family in the patient’s room before returning to the waiting room to speak to the family of Dr. Brennan’s next surgery patient. When she checked in with him during surgery he gave her a brief, concise pronouncement that the patient was doing as expected. She left with a “Thank you, Doctor.” Again, she was with the family when he came in to speak to them.

      Finished he stood, stepped away from the group and said, “Stacey, may I speak to you a moment?”

      A shiver of uncertainty went through her. Yep, she’d overstepped. “Yes, sir.”

      In the hall, he slowed long enough to say, “I’ll be doing rounds in thirty minutes. Meet me at my office in ten. Do you know where that is?”

      “I’ll find it.”

      He nodded. She was quickly learning it was his signature acknowledgment.

      Stacey made sure she was a minute early when she knocked on his door.

      “Come in.”

      His accent wasn’t the typical clipped, sharp, New Englander one. What was his story? It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t be around long enough to really get to know him, or anyone else well. Four short weeks didn’t leave much time to create friendships. That’s how she’d spent most of her life. She never stayed in one place long enough to get close to people and start caring about them on a personal level, on purpose. She made sure to leave before she could be left. If you cared you got hurt. She’d had enough of that in her life.

      Early in life after her father had left and then again when her mother had divorced her second husband, she’d learned not caring meant that you didn’t feel pain. The ache had been so great when she’d been a child she never wanted it to happen again. She’d do anything to make that not occur, to the point of remaining distant. People disappointed her if she let them close enough. When her mother had brought home her third husband, Stacey hadn’t even bothered to call him by his real name. Instead she made up a name for him, one she could easily forget. She’d spent most of her time in her room.

      The only permanent person in her life was her mother and Stacey hadn’t seen her in over a year. In fact, she was due for a visit that Stacey planned to make before she left for her next assignment in Ethiopia. As soon as this placement was done she would spend a couple of days with her mother then not bother again for another year. She couldn’t rely on her mother, who had always had her own screwed-up life to worry about. The one time Stacey had let her guard down and let someone get too close romantically, he had disappointed her as well. Once again her heart had been crushed.

      She’d been engaged. Had believed she