Read Online Critical Care by Candace Calvert - Free Book Online

trying to ask her out?

    Erin Quinn searched through her Faith QD tote bag again, her
mouth dry with anxiety. The money has to be here. Somewhere.
    It was in an envelope clearly labeled "Little Nugget Victim
Fund." Erin had put it in her bag last night, planning to get it
to the bank during lunch break today. She'd even reinforced the
envelope with strapping tape, so the loose change-a quarter, two
nickels, a dime, and a penny donated by Merlene Hibbert's little
granddaughter-wouldn't tear through the paper when she transported it. Yesterday alone she'd collected $607.46 in cash and a few
checks. And promises of more, come payday.
    The Sierra Mercy staff was eager to help mostly because of Jamie,
the blond three-year-old they'd treated for burns in the ER. His
brave smile beneath all those bandages had stolen hearts throughout the hospital. His single mother, Carly, would need financial
help until the day care insurance was settled. If it was settled. There
were rumors the policy had lapsed, and Jamie's mother had no
insurance of her own. With her own injuries and the home care
of her son, it might be weeks before Carly could return to work.
Every penny of the donations would seem a godsend. If only Erin
could find those pennies.
    She dumped the contents of the tote bag onto the nurses' lounge coffee table. Protein bars, makeup pouch, Bible study workbook, copies of her staff schedule, CISM packet, and the valentine from Brad. But no money envelope. How could that be? She
pressed her fingers against her eyes and forced herself to think,
backtrack. Please let me remember. This money is for Jamie.

    Erin had counted the money last night at her apartment; she'd
put the envelope in the tote at the same time she'd laid out her
scrubs and packed her lunch. She ticked the sequence off with her
fingers. She'd driven to work, attended the Faith QD meeting, and
gone on to the emergency department, putting the tote in her
locker. Erin's breath caught, and her gaze flew to the battered metal
lockers clustered along the wall. Did I lock it?
    Guilt stabbed her instantly; only ER staff used this room, and
they'd never had a problem. The nurses were like family.
    Sarah entered the lounge, hoisting her Diet Coke in a mock
toast. Though fatigue cast faint shadows beneath her eyes, her
voice was hearty and teasing. "Here's to my heroic handling of
another earwax crisis. You owe me big-time." She wrinkled her
nose and watched as Erin restuffed her tote bag. "So what did you
decide about lunch? You or me first?"
    Erin forced herself to breathe in, breathe out. Stop worrying.
Then she smiled warmly at Sarah. Her response held a soft chide.
"Considering that you're supposed to be off today, I'd say you
should go. What is this, nine shifts in a row for you?"
    Sarah shook her head. "Seven, with yesterday's in Sacramento.
But those nights in the nursery hardly count as work. Rocking
babies. I should pay them."
    Though Sarah was smiling, Erin thought she heard regret in her
voice and maybe a hint of something more. Sadness? It occurred
to her that though she'd worked side by side with Sarah for over a year, she really knew very little about her personally except for the
fact that Sarah was single and appeared to be powered exclusively
by Diet Coke. She felt a pang of guilt. Some charge nurse she was.
Maybe she should suggest getting together for coffee sometime.

    "So?" Sarah asked, pointing toward the door. "You or me in the
trenches? I know you wanted to run to the bank."
    Erin's stomach sank. The money. Where was it? "No hurry on
that. You take a long lunch. I'll handle the ER." She winked at
Sarah. "And Dr. McSnarly."
    Sarah's laugh ricocheted off the top of her uplifted Diet Coke
can. "No worries. Logan's gone. He got the on-call doc to take the
rest of his shift."
    "Really?" Erin clucked her tongue and then nodded knowingly.
"Back to Yosemite, I'll be willing to bet."
    "And you'd lose. He said he was