The Baby Doctor's Bride. Jessica Matthews

himself?

      Whatever his reasons, she could either respond in kind or treat him as she did everyone else. The choice was easy to the point that it wasn’t a choice at all.

      She bestowed one of her usual smiles on him as she led the way toward a cart near the ambulance bay that held protective gear. “We’re not as hung up on bureaucracy as other places, and we’re more flexible, but don’t forget to see Ted first thing in the morning. He’ll bend what can be bent, but only so far.”

      “See Ted first. Got it.”

      As Ivy shrugged on the familiar yellow gown, vinyl gloves and face shield, she noticed Ethan doing the same. “We’ll wait out—”

      Nancy Martinez, the middle-aged nurse who was in charge of the department, approached at a near-run. “I just heard. ETA of the ambulance is three minutes. We’re getting the Ellerbe twins.”

      Ivy’s heart sank. The twins were nine months old and their parents’ pride and joy. “Marybeth?”

      “She was driving,” Nancy said, her forehead furrowed with concern. “Apparently she’d taken the kids in her daycare to Wichita Zoo today, and was coming home when a truck ran a stop sign and plowed into her. Luckily she’d already delivered several of the kids at their homes before it happened, otherwise we’d have three more patients.”

      “I assume you know the family?” Ethan asked.

      “I grew up with Marybeth’s husband and I know his mother quite well. By the way, Ethan, this is Nancy, our E.R. charge nurse. She’s worked here for years, and knows everything there is to know about the hospital. So if there’s anything you need, she’s your go-to person.” She turned to Nancy. “This is Dr. Ethan Locke. He’s helping us out temporarily.”

      An ambulance siren wailed in the distance. “Come on,” she said. “We’re being paged.”

      The heat, coupled with her protective gear, blasted her after being in the air-conditioned facility. Almost immediately a host of other staff members materialized to surround them.

      “Everybody!” Ivy called out to the assembled group as the ambulance approached the loading dock. “This is Dr. Ethan Locke, and he will be helping us for the next few weeks. He’s a pediatrician and he comes highly recommended.”

      Actually, she didn’t have any recommendations about him at all, other than Lew’s observation that he’d been a physician at the prestigious children’s hospital in St. Louis. He could be a doctor who couldn’t hack the job, but her instincts said that wasn’t the case. He had too much intelligence shining out of his eyes that no amount of cynicism and rudeness could disguise. Her biggest consolation lay in Nancy, who knew her stuff and would alert Ivy if his decisions were questionable.

      Having done all she could to stack the odds in the victims’ favor, she riveted her attention on the emergency vehicle. Even with the back doors closed she heard the babies’ cries.

      She glanced at Ethan, and was surprised by his stone-faced demeanor and grim expression, but she couldn’t ponder the reasons for it now.

      Before the vehicle edged to a complete stop, she drew a bracing breath and yanked open the doors. Inside were two babies strapped into their infant seats, kicking and screaming in stereo, two older children—girls about five and six—who were doing their best to console the inconsolable babies, and a sandy-haired boy about seven years old, strapped to a backboard and sporting a c-spine collar, an IV line, a mask and a tank of oxygen between his legs.

      “Packed house,” Ivy commented to the paramedic over the frightened wail of the babies. “What do you have?”

      “One with abdominal injuries and four ambulatory—if you consider a car seat being ambulatory,” Ben Kovacs, the paramedic, reported. “I gave those two a preliminary once-over.” He motioned to the little noise-makers. “From their volume, I think they’re more scared than hurt, so I left them in their car seats for easy transport.”

      “Crying is good. I’d be more worried if they weren’t making a sound.” Ethan had stationed himself near the boy’s gurney, but Ivy knew they couldn’t move the stretcher until the littlest ones were out of the way. Ben had truly packed the victims inside.

      “They’ve only stopped long enough to take a breath and catch their second wind,” Ben said wryly. “I figured you could check them out more thoroughly to make sure they were OK.”

      Ivy handed one carrier to Ethan before she reached for the other, noticing the huge tears clinging to soggy eyelashes, the red screwed-up faces and runny noses. By the time she’d handed the other infant to waiting nurses Ethan had already passed his bundle to someone else. He’d obviously hadn’t taken time to give the baby more than a passing glance, if that.

      “Put them in Room One and I’ll be there in a minute,” Ivy directed, and she waved the older girls forward out of the corner where Ben had squeezed them.

      “Suzy and Emma only have bumps and bruises,” Ben reported, his attention focused on the boy in front of him. “They could have waited, but I thought they should get away from the scene as soon as possible. Some things a kid shouldn’t see,” he finished in a low voice.

      Ivy’s imagination filled in the blanks. “Come on, girls. Let’s go where I can make sure you’re okay, too.” Grabbing their hands, she helped them hop off the back bumper into the care of a young certified nurses’ aide, Robyn.

      With the extraneous people out of the way, Ben released the latch holding the gurney in place. Between the three of them they pulled the stretcher out of the emergency vehicle and snapped the wheels in place before rolling their patient inside. Through it all, Ben gave his report.

      “Tommy, here, is the worst. He was sitting behind the driver on the same side of the van where the truck plowed into them. BP is low, pulse is rapid.” Ben rattled off the numbers.

      “I’ll look after him,” Ethan told Ivy as he helped guide the gurney into the trauma room. “You take care of the rest.”

      Ivy hesitated. “Are you sure?”

      “You’re the one in charge of babies,” he reminded her.

      “OK.” Yet she found herself unable to leave. Not because she didn’t trust him—OK, maybe she had a few doubts—but mainly because she felt as if she were throwing him to the wolves by asking him to handle a trauma in a place where he’d never stepped foot until now.

      For the first time since she’d accepted his offer she wondered if she’d made the right decision to bring in a relative unknown.

      “Do you know how old he is?” she heard Ethan ask Ben.

      “He’s seven.”

      One advantage to a small community was that everyone knew everyone, which worked out nicely during times like these. Someday she’d know everyone in town by sight, too, but she’d been gone for years and hadn’t been back nearly long enough to have that ability today.

      Ethan leaned over the moving gurney as he lightly gripped the boy’s hand. “Hi, Tommy. I’m Ethan, and we’re going to make you feel better soon.”

      He sniffled. “I want…my mommy,” he sobbed.

      “I know,” Ethan soothed. “We’re going to get your parents here as soon as we can. Can you tell me where you hurt?”

      One hand fluttered to his abdomen. “Stomach. My chest.”

      They rolled the gurney into the trauma room, and an instant later they’d moved Tommy, still strapped to the backboard with his head immobilized, to a hospital bed.

      “Just hang on a little bit longer while we run some tests and take a few pictures,” Ethan told the youngster kindly. “Can you do that for me, sport?”

      Tommy’s lower lip trembled. “I’ll…I’ll try.”

      Ethan