Read Online Seeing Stars: A Loveswept Classic Romance by Fran Baker - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Fran Baker
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Nick nod in
her
direction? “That remains to be seen, Dr. Rodgers.”
The coffee in the doctors’ lounge was the consistency of crankcase oil, but it could have been smoothly blended whiskey, for all that Nick had noticed. He crumpled his empty Styrofoam cup, dropped it in the wastebasket, and headed for the door. “Catch you later, Joe.”
“Hey, wait a minute!” Joe Rodgers grabbed his stethoscope and hurried into the hospital corridor after him. “I’m going that way, too, so we might as well walk together.”
“Oh?”
“She went to tell her brother about the baby.”
Nick nodded and turned in the direction of the Intensive Care Unit, where Dovie was.
“Fine figure of a woman.”
“And a damned nice one, too.”
“It’s about time.”
Nick chuckled softly. “If that’s a polite commenton all my one-night stands after the accident, I couldn’t agree with you more.”
“Polite, hell!” Joe laughed out loud. “For a while we had a running bet around here on which you’d need first—a Wassermann test or a rabies shot.”
Nick grimaced in self-disgust. “Hell, don’t remind me.”
“Perfectly natural reaction, punishing yourself like that after such a significant loss.”
“Thanks, Sigmund,” Nick said dryly.
“You’re
v
elcome,” Joe replied, deadpan.
They both laughed.
“So … how’d you meet her?”
“Trout fishing.” Remembering how he’d pulled Dovie out of the river, Nick smiled. But Joe’s next remark brought him up short.
“Still trying to drown your sorrows, huh?”
“It sure beats making brooms,” he retorted bitterly.
“How does it compare to the thrill of holding that new life in your hands this afternoon?”
Nick clenched his teeth. “It doesn’t, and you damn well know it.”
“Or the satisfaction of hearing that woman say thank you when you diagnosed her diabetes simply by smelling the fruity aroma on her breath several years back?”
“What’s the point of rehashing the past?” he asked scoffingly, more disturbed then he cared to admit.
“The point is, you still have a place—a future, ifyou will—in medicine, but you’re the only one who can find it.”
At the entrance to the Intensive Care Unit, Joe exerted a gentle guiding pressure on his elbow. “First door to your right. I’ll be in as soon as I check the latest lab report on her brother’s blood gases.”
Nick’s senses were instantly heightened. The blipping monitors … the antiseptic odors that seared his nose and throat … the very urgency of the air. Damn, but it was almost a drunken high!
Thirsty for more, he stood in the hallway for a moment, pondering Joe’s insightful comment. Suppose … just suppose he actually hung out his shingle again. A bitter curl lifted one corner of his lip. What patient in his right mind would consult a blind doctor?
Dovie’s delightful laughter floated from the cubicle where her brother lay recovering from his near-fatal bout with CO intoxication. At the door Nick paused and reached into his shirt pocket for his sunglasses. Remembering that he’d left them on the nightstand in Curtis and Linda’s bedroom, he swore softly under his breath.
“Nick—” The name came so naturally to her lips! “I mean, Dr. Monroe.” Confused by her own confusion, Dovie linked her arm through his and drew him toward the bed. “I’d like you to meet my brother.”
After the introductions were made, Curtis mumbled unintelligibly.
“I
think
he said thank you,” Dovie said, her breath catching in her throat for a second when her breast brushed against his muscular arm. “He can’t talk with the oxygen mask on, so I’m serving as his interpreter.”
Her brother’s eyes, however, spoke quite eloquently, narrowing with angry disapproval when she continued to cling to Nick. Embarrassed without knowing why, Dovie let go of his arm.
But when she started to move away, he laid a staying hand on her slender waist, the warm pressure of his
her
direction? “That remains to be seen, Dr. Rodgers.”
The coffee in the doctors’ lounge was the consistency of crankcase oil, but it could have been smoothly blended whiskey, for all that Nick had noticed. He crumpled his empty Styrofoam cup, dropped it in the wastebasket, and headed for the door. “Catch you later, Joe.”
“Hey, wait a minute!” Joe Rodgers grabbed his stethoscope and hurried into the hospital corridor after him. “I’m going that way, too, so we might as well walk together.”
“Oh?”
“She went to tell her brother about the baby.”
Nick nodded and turned in the direction of the Intensive Care Unit, where Dovie was.
“Fine figure of a woman.”
“And a damned nice one, too.”
“It’s about time.”
Nick chuckled softly. “If that’s a polite commenton all my one-night stands after the accident, I couldn’t agree with you more.”
“Polite, hell!” Joe laughed out loud. “For a while we had a running bet around here on which you’d need first—a Wassermann test or a rabies shot.”
Nick grimaced in self-disgust. “Hell, don’t remind me.”
“Perfectly natural reaction, punishing yourself like that after such a significant loss.”
“Thanks, Sigmund,” Nick said dryly.
“You’re
v
elcome,” Joe replied, deadpan.
They both laughed.
“So … how’d you meet her?”
“Trout fishing.” Remembering how he’d pulled Dovie out of the river, Nick smiled. But Joe’s next remark brought him up short.
“Still trying to drown your sorrows, huh?”
“It sure beats making brooms,” he retorted bitterly.
“How does it compare to the thrill of holding that new life in your hands this afternoon?”
Nick clenched his teeth. “It doesn’t, and you damn well know it.”
“Or the satisfaction of hearing that woman say thank you when you diagnosed her diabetes simply by smelling the fruity aroma on her breath several years back?”
“What’s the point of rehashing the past?” he asked scoffingly, more disturbed then he cared to admit.
“The point is, you still have a place—a future, ifyou will—in medicine, but you’re the only one who can find it.”
At the entrance to the Intensive Care Unit, Joe exerted a gentle guiding pressure on his elbow. “First door to your right. I’ll be in as soon as I check the latest lab report on her brother’s blood gases.”
Nick’s senses were instantly heightened. The blipping monitors … the antiseptic odors that seared his nose and throat … the very urgency of the air. Damn, but it was almost a drunken high!
Thirsty for more, he stood in the hallway for a moment, pondering Joe’s insightful comment. Suppose … just suppose he actually hung out his shingle again. A bitter curl lifted one corner of his lip. What patient in his right mind would consult a blind doctor?
Dovie’s delightful laughter floated from the cubicle where her brother lay recovering from his near-fatal bout with CO intoxication. At the door Nick paused and reached into his shirt pocket for his sunglasses. Remembering that he’d left them on the nightstand in Curtis and Linda’s bedroom, he swore softly under his breath.
“Nick—” The name came so naturally to her lips! “I mean, Dr. Monroe.” Confused by her own confusion, Dovie linked her arm through his and drew him toward the bed. “I’d like you to meet my brother.”
After the introductions were made, Curtis mumbled unintelligibly.
“I
think
he said thank you,” Dovie said, her breath catching in her throat for a second when her breast brushed against his muscular arm. “He can’t talk with the oxygen mask on, so I’m serving as his interpreter.”
Her brother’s eyes, however, spoke quite eloquently, narrowing with angry disapproval when she continued to cling to Nick. Embarrassed without knowing why, Dovie let go of his arm.
But when she started to move away, he laid a staying hand on her slender waist, the warm pressure of his
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