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

nurse with her patient. Will you be okay?”

      “Sure.” Hannah’s gaze shifted to Jake again. He looked like a small cherub. His lips were getting bluer, though. She had to admit Scott was right. Jake needed a heart. Soon.

      She put her cheek against Jake’s. “I love you.”

      “I luv ‘oo.”

      Moisture filled her eyes. Loving … was … hard.

      Her head jerked up at the sharp insistent beeps of the monitor that turned into an alarm. Staff rushed into Jake’s cubicle. Scott came with them. “Hannah, let me have Jake.” Scott took Jake from her and laid him on the bed, all the while issuing orders.

      Hannah stepped to the bed. Her hands gripped the rail. “What’s wrong?” she whispered, fear coiling in her middle.

      Scott looked at her as he listened to Jake’s chest. “Hannah, you need to leave.” His authoritarian tone told her he’d accept no argument. His attention immediately returned to Jake.

      She was a nurse, Jake was her son. She could help.

      But as much as she wanted to stay, Hannah knew he was right. She’d been involved in enough emergencies to know that the fewer people around the bed the better. If she wasn’t allowed to assist then she would be in the way. Slowly, she stepped back.

      Scott’s gaze caught hers. “I’ll be out to talk to you when Jake is stable.”

      Hannah walked toward the doors but took one final look over her shoulder as she left the unit. Jake’s bed was no longer visible because of the number of people surrounding it.

      Finding one of the small conference rooms off the hallway empty and dark, she stepped inside, not bothering with the light. Her eyes ached from the dry air and the bright lights. She dropped onto one of the chairs situated as far from the door as possible.

      Unable to control her anguish any longer, Hannah’s dam broke and her soft crying turned into sobs.

      Now that Jake was resting comfortably, Scott needed to find Hannah. He paused in the hall.

      What was that sound? There it was again. It was coming from the consultation room. He stepped closer to the entrance. Dark inside, no one should be in there. Was that someone crying?

      He couldn’t ignore it. In a hospital it wasn’t unusual to hear crying, but this sounded like someone in physical pain.

      With tentative steps, he entered the room. “Hello?” A muffled sob filled the space. “Are you okay?”

      “I’m fine. Please go away.” The words were little more than a whisper coming from the corner, followed by a sniff.

      Even when it was full of sorrow, he recognized her voice. Hannah. The stricken look on her face when he’d ordered her to leave still troubled him. He’d been surprised she hadn’t put up more of a fight.

      “Hannah?”

      A whimper answered, then a muffled “Please leave” came from the corner. Moving into the room, he gave his eyes time to adjust to the dim light spilling in from the hallway. Scott had seen patients in pain, but her agony reached deep within him. Hearing Hannah sobbing knocked the breath out of him. It was killing him to stand behind professionally closed doors where she was concerned.

      But if he did open that metaphorical door, would he be able to step through? Could he help her? Did he have the right to get involved so deeply in her life? What he did know with unshaking certainty was that he couldn’t walk away. He couldn’t make the same mistake twice. The consequences could be too great.

      Coming toward her, Scott lowered his voice. “It’s Scott. Hannah, honey, Jake is fine. He had a reaction to the new med. He’s all right now.”

      Her head rose enough that he could see her eyes over the ridge of her arm. The rest of her face remained covered.

      “Go. Away.” The words were sharp and wrapped in pure misery. She turned her back to him and lowered her head again. “I don’t need you.”

      Those words stung. Scott touched her and she flinched. He removed his hand. It wounded him that she wouldn’t accept his help. Was she really that untrusting of him? “He’s resting now, really.”

      Scott sank into the chair beside hers. He’d dealt with parents besieged by strong feelings. It was part of his job, but Hannah’s pain reached deep to a spot he kept closed off. A place he shouldn’t go with the parent of a patient, especially not with her. Somewhere he wasn’t comfortable or confident in going.

      Then again, his failure to recognize how distressed his mother had been when his parents had divorced had had disastrous results. He’d promised himself then to never let that happen again to someone he cared about. He wasn’t leaving Hannah, no matter what she said or how she acted. Her obvious pain went too deep to dismiss.

      Hannah made a slight shift in her seat toward him, then said in a hard voice, “I don’t—want you here. Go away and leave me alone.”

      She was in so much pain she was contradicting herself. He could resist a lot, but Hannah’s pain brought down the final wall. He had to do something, at least try.

      A feeling of inadequacy washed over him. What could he say to make it better? Could he help her? Scott placed a hand on her shoulder, feeling the inflexible muscles. As if she were a troubled child, he began moving his hand in comforting circles along her back.

      “Scott, stop.” She twisted her shoulders back and forth, but he refused to let her have her way. He may not have the correct words or be able to change the situation but he could hold her, be there to comfort her.

      “Hannah, I’m not leaving.”

      She stilled.

      “Look, you’re a fighter. And if Jake is anything like you, he is too.”

      He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. She stiffened and pushed against his chest. “Let me help you get through this.” His grip tightened and he tucked her head under his chin. Holding her as close as the chairs would allow, he said in a tender voice, “Let me be your friend. You need someone.”

      She remained rigid, but he refused to ease his hold. Taking several halting breaths, she gave up the battle and relaxed against him.

      Hannah’s distress was difficult to witness. He didn’t flinch when he opened a child’s chest or when making life-and-death decisions but he couldn’t stand seeing Hannah in so much pain. He wanted to make it go away, make it his own.

      “Why won’t you leave me alone?” she murmured against his chest.

      “You need to be held, and I’m going to do that. Cry all you want. I’ll be right here when you’re ready to talk.”

      Having her in his arms went beyond wonderful, even with her crying and heartbroken. It felt right. He’d not only stepped over the invisible don’t-get-personally-involved line, he’d jumped. But he’d see to it remained one friend comforting another. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, let it become personal.

      Holding her firmly against him, he made calm reassuring noises that made little sense. With his voice low, he spoke to her as if she were a hurt animal. After a few minutes she quieted. Pure satisfaction coursed through him like brandy on a cold night.

      He placed a fleeting kiss to her forehead, which smelt like fresh apples. She still used the same shampoo. With his cheek resting against her hair, he took a deep breath, letting her scent fill him.

      Neither spoke. Her breathing gradually became even and regular. The sensation of her body pressed against his made his thoughts travel back to what could have been. Was he taking advantage of her vulnerability? Yeah, but he still couldn’t resist resting his lips against her skin again.

      Scott comprehended for the first time in his life what it meant to want to carry someone else’s burden. He longed to take Hannah’s