Название | His Long-Awaited Bride |
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Автор произведения | Jessica Matthews |
Жанр | Современные любовные романы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Современные любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn |
“They’ll have to wait. I’m admitting a new patient to the unit, a seventy-year-old female with possible meningitis or encephalitis. I’ll want a spinal tap.” The elevator bell dinged an interruption, and he added, “That’s probably her now.”
She rose and darted around the counter, her cool demeanor changing to her usual professionalism. “I’ll put her in two.”
“Marissa, wait.”
She stopped in her tracks. “Why? Your patient is here.”
As if he needed a reminder. “I know.” He paused. “You need to know something first.”
Impatience flitted across her face. “What?”
“It’s Lucy.”
“Lucy who?”
“Lucy Mullins.”
It took a second for the name to register. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “My Lucy?”
He nodded, intently watching her response.
Lucy Mullins might be Marissa’s seventy-year-old neighbor, but she was far more than that. Neither woman had any family to speak of, and he knew that Lucy offered friendship, homemade cookies and motherly advice whenever any of the above were needed.
The worry in Marissa’s eyes turned to determination. “As soon as I’ve gotten her settled into room two and am ready for the spinal tap, I’ll let you know.”
She headed in that direction, but Justin’s hand on her arm held her in place. “What now?” she asked impatiently.
“Ask Kristi to take over for you.”
She stared at him, incredulous. “Why? Lucy is my patient.”
He shook his head, aware that she wouldn’t like what he would say next any better than she’d liked his comments about Pendleton. “Not today she isn’t.”
CHAPTER TWO
JUSTIN braced himself for her inevitable outburst and hoped he could make her see reason.
“What do you mean, she isn’t my patient?” Marissa demanded, her eyes flashing fire.
“Just that.”
“Of course she’s my patient,” she snapped. “Not only do I have two patients to Kristi’s three, but I’m in charge of nursing assignments.”
Her emphasis on I didn’t escape him, but he knew it would be better for all concerned if Marissa stepped aside. “You’re too close to the situation,” he pointed out. “You won’t be objective.”
“I won’t be objective?” she sputtered.
“This isn’t any different than a physician treating a family member,” he countered. “So don’t get all up in arms about it. I just think—”
Marissa leaned close enough that he could feel her breath whisper across his chin. “Don’t. Don’t think at all, because you can’t stop me from making a nursing decision. You won’t stop me from looking after Lucy. I’m the senior nurse on this unit and I—not you—make the patient assignments.”
He’d hoped this would be easy, although he knew before he left the ER that it wouldn’t. “I can go over your head. And if I do, you know I’ll win.”
Once again her jaw dropped before she clamped her mouth into a tight line. Obviously she knew that if he spoke with the director of nursing, Marissa’s decision would be overruled. Not to mention there was also the distinct possibility that Lorraine might transfer her to another unit for the duration of Lucy’s stay.
“I’m sure you would,” she said quietly, “but if you stood in my shoes, wouldn’t you want to be in the middle of things, too? Lucy is important to me, which is all the more reason why I will do whatever it takes to see her well.”
“I understand but—”
“I can do this,” she urged. “I know I can. Don’t do this to me. Or to Lucy.”
He hesitated. Lucy had always been vocal about disliking hospitals. Given the choice, she’d want Marissa taking care of her. Hell, he’d want Marissa taking care of him, too, if he were seriously ill. But if Lucy went into convulsions or suffered other complications, he didn’t want to worry about Marissa being too distraught to keep her wits about her.
“Have I ever fallen apart on you before?”
Her gaze was steady and he couldn’t lie. “No.”
“Then I won’t this time, either.”
The ER nurse halted next to the nurses’ station counter. “Where do you want us?”
Marissa’s gaze didn’t waver from Justin’s. “Room two,” she told her colleague. As soon as the nurse began wheeling the gurney in the right direction, Marissa tapped her foot. “Well?”
His resolve wavered. “Okay, but if it looks like you can’t handle whatever happens—”
“I’ll voluntarily step aside,” she finished quickly.
He studied her expression. Although he knew that Marissa had never been anything but honest, he wanted everything spelled out clearly to avoid a misunderstanding. “You’re certain.”
“I’m positive. Lucy’s health comes first.”
“No arguments?”
“No arguments,” she promised.
“Then let’s get to work.”
Let’s get to work. As if she were the one who’d been holding up the process, Marissa thought with exasperation as she hurried to catch up to her new patient. And yet, with each step forward, she was grateful that she’d won the battle to look after the woman who seemed more like her mother than her own.
Lucy’s face appeared pale under the tan she’d already earned this spring, and her mouth was pressed into a line, as if she were in pain. She was a small woman, but Marissa never thought of her in terms of size. Her spirited personality had more than compensated for her petite frame as she puttered in her garden and engaged in enough volunteer activities to send a person half her age to bed. Right now, she hardly made a bump under the coverlet. Part of Marissa wanted to gasp in dismay, but the man she was trying to ignore would only see her reaction as a sign of weakness.
“Sorry to be such a bother.” Lucy smiled wanly as she spoke in a quivery voice that was completely unlike the vital woman Marissa had known for several years.
Marissa forced herself to act cheerfully. “No bother at all. We’re here to take care of you. In the meantime, we’re going to move you to a real bed, but I don’t want you to do a thing. Just lie there and let us do the work.”
On the count of three, they transferred Lucy carefully onto the other mattress. As soon as the ER nurse left, Marissa hurried to make Lucy as comfortable as possible with an extra pillow and warm blankets, conscious of Justin watching from his place near the foot of the bed.
As Marissa hooked Lucy to the usual monitors and checked her vital signs, she quizzed the elderly lady. “How long have you been feeling poorly? You should have said something to me last night,” she chided gently, noting the woman’s elevated temperature.
“It’s nothing really.” Lucy tried to wave her hand, then stopped, as if the motion required too much effort. “I’ve had a terribly bad headache that won’t disappear, as well as a stiff neck that’s gotten worse over the last day or so. Some nausea, too. I think it’s just a bad case of the flu, although no one will listen to me.” She cast a baleful