A Family to Heal His Heart Read online

  She couldn’t change the past, but she could make the future something her daughter could look forward to without fear. And if she’d never met Luke, Daisy might not be here at all. Didn’t that make it worth it?

  Worth it? Lindy hadn’t deserved what she’d gotten, but she did love her daughter more than life itself. And, yes, she was glad that at least something good had come out of their marriage.

  “I guess I know what she might want to be for Halloween.”

  Lindy’s chest swelled with love. Her mom hadn’t showered her with recriminations or accusations. She’d been truly glad that her daughter had come back. If she’d known how the marriage would turn out, she’d kept that declaration to herself. Both of her parents had. They loved Daisy like she did, unconditionally, insisting that they be the ones to provide childcare rather than Lindy finding a daycare center. And Daisy was thriving. Finally. She hadn’t noticed the pale fear in her baby’s eyes while she’d been in the situation, but now that they were out? Oh, yes, she could see nuances she’d never known were there. It made the guilt that much worse. She’d thought she’d protected Daisy from the worst parts of her marriage, and she had. But, even as an infant, had she been able to pick up on the subtle emotions Lindy thought she’d hidden?

  She’d probably never know.

  New beginnings.

  No more staring in the rearview mirror. There was nothing back there she needed to see. She was supposed to be looking to the future.

  And if her glance strayed to places it shouldn’t?

  Like Zeke Bruen?

  Yes. She could acknowledge that he’d caught her eye. But if she was smart, Lindy would make sure that was all he caught: her glance. Because a glance was temporary. A gaze, however...well, that carried a lot more permanence. And that was going to be reserved for Daisy and Daisy only.

  No matter how difficult that might prove to be.

  * * *

  Zeke could see Lindy standing by the nurses’ station, staring at the patient board.

  Lunch the other day had been a blur of exhaustion and depleted emotions. Suicide attempts were always difficult, but this was one life they’d saved.

  For how long, though?

  The kicker was that these teens thought they wanted to die. Zeke’s daughter, on the other hand, had wanted to live. Only she hadn’t gotten to choose.

  He glanced at the board. Two of those up there were his patients. Lindy would be one of the surgical nurses. He’d asked for her and wasn’t sure why. He suspected some of it had to do with seeing the object of her clock-watching up close and personal. Small and full of smiles, Lindy’s daughter was a miniature version of her. Only Lindy’s smile seemed much more elusive than her child’s. And something Rachel had said stayed with him over the last couple of days. And he couldn’t even remember exactly what it had been. It was more her tone of voice.

  He should turn around and walk away before he found himself caught up in something he wanted no part of. But to do so might make her think it was because of her. And she’d be right.

  Better that he go over and talk to her as if she were any other member of the team. “Off to an early start?”

  She whirled around, a hand pressed to her chest, face draining of all color. When she focused on him, she gave a nervous laugh and leaned back against the counter. “Oh, God, sorry. You startled me.”

  Startled? That was the second time he’d seen her react like that.

  “I didn’t mean to. Did you think I was the hospital administrator or something?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I was just lost in thought. Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to sneak up on people?”

  “They did. I just wasn’t aware that I was sneaking.”

  “No, of course you weren’t.” She sucked down a deep breath and blew it out. “Sorry. Anyway, did you catch up on your sleep?”

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d scared someone like that, and he was pretty sure that time it had been on purpose. But her explanation was reasonable.

  “I did, thanks. Just checking in about the surgeries I have scheduled. You’ll be scrubbing in on both of them?” Since he’d put her name in as someone he wanted on those cases, the question was more rhetorical than anything.

  Her glance went back to the board. “Ledbetter and Brewster? Yes. Anything I should know?”

  “Ledbetter has had a reaction to anesthesia before, so they’re tweaking the ratios. Just wanted you to be aware in case we have to make a sudden shift in care.”

  “Okay, got it. And Brewster?”

  “We’re doing her first. Pneumothorax. Routine.”

  Lindy gave a visible swallow and looked back up at the board. “She’s only five? Since when is a collapsed lung in a child that age considered routine?”

  “When that child has been kicked by her father. And I worded that badly. It’s never routine.” Just saying the words made a jet of anger spurt through Zeke’s chest. What kind of monster hurt his own child? Or any child?

  “That’s horrible.” Her voice came out as a whisper.

  The boards listed names and ages and team members, but nothing more.

  “I know. I thought maybe you’d looked at the charts.”

  She reached behind her and gripped the edge of the desk. “I just got here. I was going to look at them once I figured out which cases I’d be working on.”

  The hospital had code numbers for staffing the surgical suites, with the surgeons sometimes handpicking their crews, and other times it was the luck of the draw, depending on scheduling.

  Zeke had asked for her, telling himself he wanted to see her in action now that he knew a little more about her. There were a few surgical nurses that he preferred not to work with, either because they were difficult or because they were slow to hand over instruments. Every surgeon had their own style and not everyone meshed with his. He knew he could sometimes be demanding.

  Like confronting Lindy about being distracted that first time working together?

  It had nothing to do with idle interest and everything to do with watching her work. She definitely had compassion, judging from her reaction to the patient with the collapsed lung.

  “These kinds of cases are always difficult.”

  “Yes. Yes, they are.”

  The thread of resignation in her voice gave him pause. Maybe her other hospital saw more cases involving domestic violence than Mid Savannah did, although even one case was too many.

  “We’ll get her patched up, and hopefully the system will do what it’s supposed to do and keep her out of that home. I think the dad is in jail right now.”

  “As well he should be. And her mother?”

  “She said she was at work when the incident happened.”

  “The incident. That’s one way to put it.” Her tight voice spoke volumes. Then she sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. The wheels of justice just never seem to turn fast enough.”

  “I didn’t think you were, and you’re right, they don’t. But those wheels can’t move on their own. There has to be that initial push.”

  First she’d jumped when he’d come up behind her, now this. Was she just out of sorts today or was something else going on?

  “Those situations are just so hard. I actually volunteered at a center helping victims of domestic violence, so it’s just straying a bit too close to home.”

  “That’s interesting. I sat in on a meeting of department heads a couple of weeks ago. The hospital has discussed putting together a center for victims of domestic violence or abuse. They already have a grant from a private donor, but they need someone to jump start things. So far no one has stepped up to volunteer.”

  Lindy’s head came up. “Really? I would love to be involved.”

  “Are you still volunteering somewhere?”

  “Not at the moment. I too
k a leave of absence so I could focus on this job. I thought once I got established I could go back at some point.”

  An alarm sounded in one of the rooms and a light flashed in the panel of monitors behind her. She glanced back.

  “Go,” he said. “I’ll see you in surgery as soon as our patient is prepped. If you’re serious about helping out with the center, let the administrator know. I’m sure they could use someone who already knows the ropes.”

  “Thanks. I might just do that.” With that, she walked away, headed for the nearby room, leaving Zeke with more questions than answers. He was usually pretty adept at figuring people out after talking with them a time or two. But she was proving to be an enigma.

  There was part of him, though, that wondered if he wasn’t missing something obvious.

  Like what?

  He had no idea. And he was definitely not going to start asking her a bunch of questions. He barely knew her. Maybe he should drop in on the hospital administrator himself and let the cat out of the bag about her experience. Not everyone could stomach what went on behind closed doors. The fact that she could...

  How did one decide to volunteer for something like that? Especially if you had no first-hand knowledge?

  Something kicked up in the back of his head. Lindy had never mentioned a husband.

  So? That meant nothing.

  Or did it?

  Back at the cafeteria it had been Daisy and her mother with no mention of anyone else being involved in her life.

  Again, it might not be significant.

  And if it was?

  Then helping with the program might be the best thing that Lindy could do. Not only for the hospital’s sake. But if the weird feelings he had going on were true, then it might do Lindy some good as well.

  CHAPTER THREE

  FIVE DAYS AFTER helping to re-inflate a little girl’s damaged lung, Lindy went and talked to the administrator about the program and offered to help. In doing so, she told him about her past, including the truth behind Luke’s death. As she did so, a weight lifted off her chest. He asked if she’d be willing to speak at an informal Q&A about the program that was already in the works. If there was interest, they would move forward. If not, they wouldn’t. He would leave it up to her as far as how much she shared.

  Could she do it? Well, it was too late now, since she’d already agreed. She just had to figure out what she was going to say.

  By concealing her past from her colleagues, she’d wondered if she wasn’t contributing to a culture that encouraged people to hide behind a mask of normalcy.

  In fact, she’d almost told Zeke in front of the schedule board as they’d talked about the little girl’s injuries but had chickened out. If he was at the meeting, he would probably soon know, anyway. And that scared her to death. Would he look at her differently? Feel pity for her?

  She didn’t know why it mattered, but it did.

  As painful as it was to look back at what had happened, Zeke’s words about the wheels needing a push to start them turning made a lot of sense. In fact, they’d played over and over in her head all weekend long, and they were still going strong today. Even if it was just manning a phone on a helpline for an hour or two a week after her shift, she could help to be that push that changed someone’s life for the better. And it fit right in with her “new beginnings” motto.

  She might not be a trained psychologist, but she was a medical professional. She also had first-hand knowledge of the excuses that kept someone from leaving a deplorable relationship. She’d used those same excuses. Luke’s gambling problems—which she hadn’t known about when they’d dated—had been spiraling out of control for years.

  That was probably part of the reason for the job change right after their marriage, although she didn’t know that for sure. He’d gone to great lengths to hide the truth, his behavior becoming more and more erratic and threatening. Once she’d found out about the credit cards he’d taken out in her name, it was all over. Lindy had almost lost her life. But in the end, it was Luke who’d paid the ultimate price.

  She still had nightmares about the last day they’d been together. In fact, the night before Zeke had startled her, she’d woken up in a cold sweat and had lain awake for hours. So when Zeke’s voice had come out of nowhere at the desk that day, her hands had curled into fists out of instinct.

  There’d been no danger, though. Not from him.

  But it also made her aware of how she’d changed in the years since the police had come to arrest her husband. She’d dropped her guard in some ways, but in other ways those walls were just as tall and as thick as they’d ever been. Time did dull the fear, but it hadn’t obliterated it completely.

  And maybe that was a good thing. It kept her wary of what could happen if she didn’t stay vigilant. She’d made a vow to herself never to put her daughter in a situation like that again.

  Would Zeke be interested in volunteering, if the hospital program did get underway?

  What had even brought that to mind?

  Maybe the memory of the way he’d operated on five-year-old Meredith Brewster. That man had been a study in compassion that brought tears to her eyes. He’d been worried about an injury to her spleen. Something that was insidious, often having few symptoms as the organ slowly filled with blood. But if it ruptured, the effects could be catastrophic. Luckily everything had come back normal, aside from the collapsed lung and a fractured rib.

  Normal?

  Nothing about it had been normal.

  But she could be the change that started that wheel turning. And maybe asking Zeke to help could be part of that initial push.

  Besides, she was curious about what his response would be.

  She was sure her parents wouldn’t mind watching Daisy for an hour while she talked to the group. Even if it meant exposing scars that weren’t completely healed?

  If not now, then when?

  That was the question and one she had no answer to. So it was time to jump in and make sure that terrible period in her life did some good. Even if it meant she and Zeke might be seeing a lot more of each other.

  * * *

  She wasn’t watching the clock. It appeared Lindy had been able to settle into her role of surgical nurse without worrying about her daughter.

  Not much of her face was visible with the mask and surgical cap. But those light brown eyes were there. And they were still wreaking havoc with his insides. They came up unexpectedly and caught him looking. Damn. He needed to pay more attention to what he was about to do and less attention to the way she was affecting him.

  This might be a routine ’scope, but the child deserved every ounce of his attention. He jerked his glance to the anesthesiologist, who was standing at her head. “She’s ready for the procedure,” the man said.

  The twilight sedation would allow his patient to swallow and follow instructions, but she would have little or no memory of doing so when they were done with the procedure.

  Zeke pulled the loupes down over his eyes. “Okay, Tessa, open your mouth.”

  It always amazed him that part of the brain was still aware and could obey simple commands even while the patient’s conscious self was wandering through a gray haze. He slid the endoscope into place. “Big swallow.”

  Tessa complied, gagging slightly as the scope was introduced. Then it was all business.

  “Suction.”

  Lindy was right there, clearing excess moisture from the child’s mouth.

  He relayed his observations, knowing the microphone that hung overhead would pick up his words, which he could transcribe later. “Pink mucosa with no abnormalities. Advancing to the sphincter.”

  He then slid past it, moving into the main part of Tessa’s stomach. This was where he needed to take his time. “How’s the patient doing, Steve?”

  “Everything looks good.”

&n
bsp; He adjusted the focus of the ’scope and went over the surface of the stomach. “Normal appearance of the fundus and the lesser curvature.” But when he turned the ’scope to face the other direction he pulled up short. There was a large eroded section of the lining and a mass about the size of a golf ball. “I’m seeing a nodule with irregular borders in the middle of the greater curvature. There is a moderate amount of erosion of the surrounding tissue. Going to attempt a biopsy of the mass.”

  He moved in closer and changed the setting, snapping several pictures, and then grabbed a piece of the tissue with the pincers. He cut and cauterized in one fluid motion. “I’ve got it. Bleeding is negligible.”

  He surveyed the rest of the stomach but didn’t see anything else abnormal, so he eased the ’scope out, his chest tight. He had only seen one other growth similar to this one and the outcome hadn’t been good. He could only hope the pathology findings were different in this case and would allow the child to go on with her life.

  This time it was Lindy’s eyes who were on him, the narrow furrow between her brows saying that she’d had the same suspicion. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on that. He needed to finish the procedure and make sure Tessa was okay. Then they could worry about the other stuff.

  Fifteen minutes later, she was waking up, lids fluttering as her awareness returned. “Am I okay?” Her voice was raspy, which was normal.

  “You did just fine.” It wasn’t exactly what she’d asked, but close enough. He forced a smile, pulling down his mask so she could see his face. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  But what was coming might very well prove to be.

  “No, I didn’t feel anything.”

  “That’s what I like to hear. Dr. Black is pretty good at his job.” He glanced at Steve, whose face was as solemn as everyone else’s.

  “I do my best.” The other doctor laid his hand on her head, ignoring the surgical cap. “You did a good job too, kiddo.”

  Yes, she had. And she’d been stoic every time he’d met with her parents, although they described her pain levels as varying between moderate and debilitating. And now he had to go out and talk to them. The procedure itself had gone like clockwork. Everything else? Well, they would know that soon enough.