Temporary Doctor, Surprise Father. Lynne Marshall

erupting with thick dark blood was located in the right upper quadrant and became the center of attention. Until the lungs were stabilized, the second, less threatening gunshot wound could wait.

      The overhead monitor alarm beeped rapidly as the initial vital signs registered. The oxygen sats had tanked, BP was 80/40 and the pulse 130. The youth’s heart was working like crazy in an attempt to maintain his body’s circulation, and with a pneumothorax his lungs weren’t getting nearly enough oxygen. If not stopped, it would be a deadly cycle.

      “Let’s get that chest tube in now,” Gavin said, searching for and finding Beck. Their eyes met in wordless communication, and Gavin stepped back, allowing Beck to approach the man. Baptism by fire.

      Jan magically reappeared and rolled over a tray with all the equipment he’d need. He flashed back to his training, then several tours of duty, and recalled each step of the process of inserting a chest tube. He’d done his share of them in the field. Feeling under a microscope here, with the world watching, he donned sterile gloves and, driven by adrenaline, hoped his hands didn’t shake too noticeably.

      After prepping the skin with antiseptic, he draped it with a sterile towel. He palpated the space between the fifth and sixth ribs and reached for the large syringe Jan handed him. He inserted the needle into the bottle of lidocaine she held for him, and administered the local anesthetic, waited briefly then accepted the proffered scalpel and made an incision in the mid-axillary line. She dutifully handed him a sterile package she’d begun to open from the outside, which gave easy access to the inside tubing without contaminating it.

      Beck glanced briefly into her eyes just before he took it. For one beat their gazes locked. At close range, her eyes were blue, just like January’s. Damn.

      A mini-jolt of adrenaline helped him refocus. Using the rigid guide, he inserted the tube into the pleural cavity and aimed upwards as he slowly advanced it until he felt resistance. He pulled back a tiny bit and clamped the tube. With no sign of blood, the wounded young man had been lucky. Jan connected the tube to an underwater seal before he undid the clamp. A reassuring bubbling sound gave him the confidence to begin suturing the tube in place. Soon, with the trapped air removed and no longer pressing against the lung, the lung could reinflate and the man would be breathing a lot easier.

      “OK, let’s get a chest X-ray to check positioning,” Gavin said as he clamped a hand on Beck’s shoulder. “Good job.”

      To say Beck wasn’t relieved would be lying, but the knowledge of a job well done admittedly felt good. “Thanks. It’s been a while.”

      Jan wrapped adhesive tape around the tube and affixed it to the patient’s chest wall, then Beck looped the chest tube and taped it snugly to the patient’s abdomen before applying the final dressing.

      Once Beck stepped back after his part was finished, Gavin took over. He’d located the superficially lodged bullet and removed it, then plopped it into a plastic specimen container held by Jan.

      “Fantastical,” she mumbled as she studied the bloody ball of metal while Gavin stabilized the patient and readied him for surgery.

      Had she just said fantastical? That was it. The missing link. In the midst of chaos and saving a life, quick memories popped into his mind of the only other person he’d ever heard say “fantastic” that way. If he hadn’t been sure before, he definitely was now.

      But this person was nothing like that girl.

      Still reeling from the notion that he’d stumbled on his first love, he watched Gavin proceed with a secondary survey head-to-toe assessment for more subtle injuries.

      While consciously avoiding any thoughts about his ex-girlfriend, he waited for the chest X-ray films. Beck leaned against the wall and observed the team hovering over the patient, whose vital signs were already improving. He lifted the protective goggles from his eyes where perspiration had started to bead and steam them up, resting the glasses on his forehead. He glanced around the gurney from person to person, with everyone intent on what they were doing. Excellent teamwork.

      Beck noticed a second pile of discarded clothing on the floor next to Jan’s feet. He moved to kick it aside and couldn’t help but notice something out of character for the subdued nurse. Completely out of place on her seriously sensible shoes were bright pink satin laces. A telltale sign of who she really was. So she hadn’t dumped all her flash. His gaze traveled up to her face carefully hidden behind dark, thick-framed artsy glasses. He looked more closely. Her eyes were as bright a blue as they had been thirteen years ago.

      How had he not recognized her mouth right off? In high school she’d carefully outlined those soft, well-shaped lips with liner before she’d applied the brightest shades of pink he’d ever seen. It had driven him crazy. She was the last person in the world he’d ever expected to run into here.

      For a woman who wrapped herself in the loosest scrubs possible, it was hard to imagine her as once dressing like a birthday present in loud patterns over a curvaceous figure. Short skirts had never looked better than over those legs. But today her legs were covered in baggy, faded scrubs, making it impossible to compare. Yet there were those pink satin laces shining up at him. And she had said “fantastical”.

      It all added up to one person. January. And he was still as mad as hell at her.

      She caught him looking at her and quickly glanced away. Could she tell that he’d just figured out who she was? Years before, she’d trampled over his heart without so much as a backward glance. He’d joined the army intent on seeing the world and had expected her to wait for him. Maybe it had been a lame plan, but it had been the best he could come up with at eighteen. When he’d gotten out of bootcamp, she’d disappeared. When he’d tracked her down, she’d broken up with him. Over the phone!

      The skittish nurse shoved something toward him. He jumped back from sorting through memories to the present. She gave him a kit, avoiding his eyes. It was a Foley catheter kit.

      “Make yourself useful,” Jan said, jabbing the plastic-covered box at him then quickly turning away.

      He glanced at the naked patient lying on the gurney. The young man was in and out of consciousness, and Beck hoped when he catheterized him, for the patient’s sake, he’d be out of it.

      As he opened the sterile package and started to set up, he glanced back at Jan, who was completely wrapped up with hanging a unit of blood. She chewed on her lower lip, like she used to whenever she’d concentrated on anything. How had he missed it? All the parts were there, though skewed a bit by time.

      Thirteen years had made some major changes to both of them.

      Before inserting the catheter, he looked at her one more time. Sure enough, it was January Stewart…the biggest love and the worst heartbreak of his life.

      * * *

      Jan had managed to avoid Beck after the gunshot-wound patient had been prepped and awaited transfer to surgery. She’d passed him off on a younger nurse who was already captivated by his strikingly handsome looks and who gladly agreed to assist him. As long as Gavin didn’t find out and he got emergency practice, it would make no difference which nurse assisted Beck.

      He didn’t react or seem to mind.

      Anyhow, there was a group of needy residents with an assortment of patients to keep her busy. And she was.

      She’d spent thirteen years putting her life in order. Just because Beck had been her big love in high school it didn’t mean they had anything to reminisce about. Their horrible ending tugged at Jan’s conscience. But now was not the time to relive the past. It couldn’t be changed.

      She tamped down the memories and tried not to cringe. Not today. Not when the emergency department was crawling with patients.

      Jan escorted her next patient into the last available ER room and handed the young man a gown. “What seems to be the problem?”

      “I think I have an infected spider bite, and now it’s spreading.”

      He showed