Amy Ruttan

Navy Doc On Her Christmas List


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      Still, she knew what she’d seen at Charles’s wedding.

      But she really had no proof so she could pull him.

      The staffroom was thankfully empty and she poured herself a cup of tepid coffee and dumped a lot of sugar into it. It was probably more than was good for her, but she needed the boost. She sank down in the same chair she had been in earlier.

      “Well, at least there’s no nurses lying in wait with plastic mistletoe like this morning,” he joked.

      “They’re two emergency room nurses. Do you even remember their names?” she challenged.

      “Uh, no...”

      She shook her head. “You should get to know your staff better.”

      He crossed his arms. “Oh, and what’re their names, then? Do you remember?”

      Damn.

      She always referred to them in her head as gold-digger one and two.

      “Carol and...”

      Zac grinned smugly. “You don’t know. Now who’s distancing who? You should really know your staff better.”

      “I don’t distance myself from anyone.”

      “Yeah, right. Those interns are terrified of you. You’re so formal. There’s a wall up around you, Dr. Lockwood.”

      You’re one to talk about walls.

      But she kept that thought to herself.

      “I could easily page them and they’d be here in a flash,” she teased, changing the subject.

      “No, thanks,” he said, and he sat down with a sigh, craning his neck to watch the snow still swirling and blowing outside. “Want to make a bet?”

      “What?”

      “Remember when we were younger we’d make bets? Like how long would it take for Charles to notice how many spitballs I could launch at the back of his head or who could outrun my brother Elijah after we prank-called his girlfriend?”

      Ella chuckled. “Right, and we’d wager things like candy and stuff. I don’t have any candy.”

      “How about a dare?”

      She cocked her eyebrow. “Seriously? A dare? What’re you, like twelve?”

      “You’re not chicken, are you?” Those blue eyes twinkled.

      “No, but I am a professional and I have a reputation to uphold.”

      Zac snorted. “Oh, yeah, I heard about that reputation. The bulldog, I believe it was referred to as.”

      “Bulldog?” Her voice rose an octave and then she cleared her throat, annoyed by her nickname. “I’m hardly a bulldog.”

      “It has nothing to do with appearance. Well, other than your height and the fact that you charge through. Tough.”

      “Fine. I like that better.”

      “You do have a lot more gumption than you did when you were younger. It’s refreshing.” He was giving her a compliment, but it embarrassed her instead. There was a reason she kept people at a distance and it was Zac’s fault.

      It was easier than letting people in.

      It was because of the way he’d humiliated her, crushed her hopes. The way he’d brushed her aside so easily that had made her work hard to overcome her debilitating shyness and stick up for herself. In a way she should thank him.

      Still, the hurt was still raw, because Zac had been the one person she’d thought would never hurt her. She’d thought they were friends. And then more than friends.

      “Medical school was tough. You don’t become a surgeon by hiding in the corner.”

      “I never understood why you hid in a corner,” he said.

      Don’t you?

      “It’s hard to have a voice with a domineering mother.” She cleared her throat and changed the subject, didn’t want to talk about the way she had been. She was no longer that shy little girl in the frumpy clothes. The girl who was never comfortable in her own skin. The girl who was unpopular and shy. “So what did you want to bet on?”

      “Snowfall. How many inches do you think?”

      Ella snorted. “That’s a pretty pathetic bet.”

      “What?” he asked, mildly outraged. “Why?”

      “If we’re going to wager dares then you have to make the bet more interesting.”

      “Like what?” he asked, leaning forward, those blue eyes and that devious smile making her heart skip a beat.

      She drew a total blank. She had to think of something, but a resident knocked on the door.

      “Excuse me, Dr. Lockwood?”

      “Now’s your chance to prove you’re not so formal,” Zac whispered, but she ignored him.

      Ella looked up. “Yes, Dr.—Yes, Ryan?”

      The resident looked shocked. “Uh, Dr. Lockwood...”

      “You can call me Ella when no one is around.”

      Ryan the resident didn’t look convinced. “I have the liver enzyme panel of the patient complaining about chronic cholecystitis.” Dr. Trace handed Ella the tablet.

      Zac leaned over her and whispered, “Was that so hard?”

      “Shut up,” Ella mumbled, as she took the tablet.

      “Pardon, Dr.—Ella?” Ryan asked nervously.

      “Nothing.”

      Ella frowned when she saw the high number of enzymes in the blood panel. It meant the liver was working too hard and soon it could cause inflammation to the pancreas known as pancreatitis, which was a worse infection than cholecystitis. And if there was a stone, fragments could break off a gallstone, blocking the bile duct or in very rare cases causing the gall bladder to rupture.

      “Take the patient down for a CT scan. I need to know if there are stones blocking the bile duct. If the bile duct is clear, prep the patient for an emergency cholecystectomy by starting them on a course of antibiotics.”

      “And if there are stones in the bile duct?” Dr. Trace asked.

      “I don’t suppose Dr. So is in?” Ella asked hopefully.

      “No, Dr. So is stuck in Boston.”

      Dammit.

      Ella could perform an emergency cholecystectomy as long as the bile duct was clear. If there were stones in the bile duct, the only way to remove them without doing an open laparotomy was to do an endoscopic retrograde cholangio-pancreatography or ERCP. An ERCP was a delicate procedure only done by trained surgeons, involving cutting into the sphincter of Oodi and sending a small instrument up the bile duct to crush or retrieve the stones.

      Even then the ERCP came with complications and they weren’t always successful.

      “Then we monitor the patient, give them morphine until Dr. So can return.”

      “If the patient needs an ERCP, I can do one,” Zac said suddenly.

      Ella was shocked. “You can do an ERCP? That’s a highly skilled endoscopic procedure.”

      Zac nodded. “I know, but I was trained in a lot of different procedures when I was studying at Annapolis. I did a stint on a medical ship and since the particular medical frigate I was on couldn’t carry as many staff as a hospital that had specialists, surgeons on these ships were prepared for a lot of things. I can also do a crash C-section if need be.”

      Ella was impressed and even Dr. Trace was looking at Zac with a gaze of admiration.