Heart Surgeon, Hero...Husband?. Susan Carlisle

to avoid further questions, she asked, “How about you? Where did you go … uh … for your surgery residency?” She’d almost said “after you left me alone in bed. Without saying a word.”

      He pulled his legs out from under the table, extended them across the floor, and crossed one ankle over the other.

      “Texas, then to Boston for a while. I took a position here a couple of years ago.”

      “You always said you wanted to be a heart surgeon. You didn’t change your mind.”

      “No. After hearing my first baby’s irregular heartbeat during my cardio rotation I’ve been set on it. It took me years to qualify, but it was the right move.” His gaze met hers. “But it meant making some tough decisions.”

      “So, is there a Mrs. McIntyre and any little McIntyres?”

      Hannah held her breath, waiting for his answer. A part of her wished he’d found no one special, while another part wanted him to be happy.

      “There’s no Mrs. McIntyre or children.”

      Hannah released the breath she’d held. Why’d she feel such a sense of relief? “Why’s that?”

      “A surgeon’s life doesn’t lend itself to a peaceful private life. Somehow my patients always take precedence over anything or anyone else.”

      A dark shadow crossed his face that she didn’t quite comprehend. Had he almost married? What had happened?

      “As the mother of one of your patients I’m grateful you make them a priority. I believe that would be a part of being a great doctor.” She took a sip of tea. “So, are you still seeing a nurse on every floor and in every department?” The question had a sting to it that she couldn’t help but add.

      He chuckled. “You don’t have a very high opinion of me, do you?”

      Hannah chose to let that question remain unanswered. “Did you know that the joke in the nurses’ station was that, when you had rotated to our floor, you’d asked for an alphabetical listing of all the single nurses and were working your way through the list?” “I did not.”

      “What? Know or ask for the list? Because you sure as heck worked your way through the staff. I watched you. With the last name of Watson, I had time to see you coming.” Heavens, she’d gotten what she’d deserved. She’d seen for herself what a player he had been.

      “Yeah, and you refused to play along. That was one of the many things I liked about you. You made me work to get your attention.”

      “I wasn’t interested in being another nurse you scratched off your list.”

      Scott’s hand covered his heart. “Ouch, that hurt.”

      She grinned. “That might have been too harsh.”

      He smiled, oozing Dr. McDreamy charm. “Same Hannah. You never cut me any slack. But as it turns out, believe it or not, being a surgeon doesn’t leave me as much free time as being a med student did. As for an answer, I hope I’ve grown up some.”

      “I know I have. I understand things I didn’t use to.” Like how it felt to be drawn to the bright fire that was his charisma and get burnt. He was speaking as if they’d shared nothing more than a casual meal all those years ago, instead of a friendship that had ended with a night filled with passion. She had repeated the same mistake with Jake’s dad.

      “I’m sorry, Hannah, for everything.” His beeper went off, demanding his attention. “I have to see about this. Thanks for the coffee.” He picked up his cup, crushed it and pitched it into the nearest trash can.

      Scott moved down the hall as if he was a man in command, a man on a mission. He’d been intense and focused as a medical student. That didn’t seem to have changed, but he also had the ability to laugh and smile effortlessly, which drew people to him.

      Taking a deep breath, she slowly released it. She needed to think. Put things in some order in her mind.

      Jake. Heart transplant. Waiting. Cost. Die. Scott. The words ping-ponged off the walls of her mind.

      CHAPTER TWO

      SCOTT peered over the unit desk toward Hannah, who sat at her son’s bed. Her head had fallen to one side against the back cushion of the chair. Even with the burden of worry showing on her features, she caught and held his attention. Her chestnut-colored hair brushed the tops of her shoulders and hung forward, curtaining one cheek. If he’d been standing closer, he would’ve pushed it back.

      Puffy eyes and stricken looks were so much a part of his profession that he had become impervious to them, but telling Hannah about Jake’s heart condition had been the toughest thing he’d ever done. She was no longer the impressionable nursing student he’d once known. Hannah was now a mother warrior fighting for her child. He believed her strength and spirit would see her through.

      She’d made it clear that their only association would be a professional one. He could be there for her as a friend, for old times’ sake. The only sensible choice was to keep their relationship a professional one. Being involved with a parent on a personal level was a huge ethical no-no anyway. Lawyers didn’t represent family members, and surgeons didn’t treat loved ones, or, in his case, family.

      Hannah shifted in the chair and shoved her tresses out of her face. She looked tired, worn and dejected. She stirred, causing her hair to fall further across her face. With effort, Scott resisted the urge to go to her, take her in his arms and whisper that everything would be all right. She’d always brought out the protective side of him. She’d never believe it but he’d left her that morning all those years ago in order to protect her. Even then medicine had been his all-consuming focus. He’d gotten that trait from his father.

      As a small-town doctor, his father had been on call day and night. Scott had watched him leave the supper table numerous times to see a sick child after eating only one forkful of food. More than once Scott had heard him return to the house in the early hours of the morning after seeing a patient. Their family had even returned early from a vacation because an elderly woman his father had been treating had taken a turn for the worse and was asking for him. Scott had never once heard his father complain. All Scott had ever wanted was to be like his father. He had thought he was the finest doctor he’d ever known.

      Hannah woke with a start, blinking fast. Daylight had turned to darkness outside the window but the fluorescent lighting made it bright in the room. She straightened. “Mommy.”

      She hopped up and went to Jake’s bedside.

      “Hi, sweetheart. We both had a little nap.” She brushed his hair back from his forehead. “How you doing?” She kissed him.

      The nurse pushed medicine into the port of the IV located at the side of Jake’s tiny wrist. Giving the IV set-up a critical look, Hannah realized old habits did die hard. She still wished she could take a more active role in Jake’s care. As long as he was in CICU she had to remain on the sideline.

      “Would you like to hold him for a while?” the nurse asked as she punched buttons on the IV pump and it responded with small beeps.

      Moisture filled her eyes. “Could I, please?”

      “Sure. You have a seat in the chair and I’ll help you get him situated.”

      After a little maneuvering of IV lines and moving of machines, Hannah had Jake in her arms. It was pure heaven.

      “Go home,” Jake mumbled as he settled against her.

      “I wish we could, but hopefully you won’t be here long.”

      She looked over Jake’s head at the nurse as he played with his toy bear.

      The nurse spoke softly, “You know, Mrs. Quinn, I’ve seen some very sick kids come through here who are doing great after having a transplant.”

      The words reassured Hannah somewhat. At least she was getting