where he began to shave, still surprised he hadn’t been called to surgery, even with Malcom Riley on duty.
Typically, Saturdays weren’t noted for emergencies either in surgery or in the ER. But this Saturday was an exception as the town remained in a blackout crisis. Though at the moment, the rain had slowed, somewhat.
Noah stared at his face in the mirror and would’ve laughed if it hadn’t been so tragic. He looked awful, like he and the bottle were having an affair.
Spitting a wad of cream out of his mouth, he began shaving. Shortly, he ran his fingers over his face and felt better. His hair, however, was a lost cause. It was too long and too unruly, but until this siege ended, he’d have to let that go, something he’d bet Amanda’s new squeeze wouldn’t do.
Why, pretty-boy Gordon looked like he’d just stepped out of GQ. Noah made a noise that bordered on a grunt. Nothing had been out of place, not one stitch of clothing, certainly not one hair on old Gordon’s head. God forbid.
He’d bet Gordon even ironed his underwear.
Another sharp pang hit him. The thought of Amanda doing the things to and with another man that they had shared was threatening to drive him nuts, not to mention the blood-letting in his gut.
Was she going to marry Gordon? Most likely, so Noah had best get used to the idea. Or better yet, he could stop fighting Riley for chief of surgery and go to another hospital. There were plenty who would take him on staff.
No. He’d come back to Grand Springs, to Vanderbilt, and he intended to stay. Somehow, he’d get over Amanda, and if he didn’t—well, he’d have to live with that.
After all, he was the one who had screwed up, the one who had ruined the best thing that had ever happened to him. Some sins you never get over paying for, he reminded himself with brutal honesty.
Still, she wasn’t married yet. Noah brightened at that fact. And he knew Amanda still cared about him, at least sexually. That was a start. He definitely knew which buttons to push to unleash the passion she kept hidden behind that cool, controlled facade.
He hated playing games, though. He had no patience for such foolishness. But after seeing her with another man, he knew he would do most anything to have her. So much for all that bull about his work being his only mistress.
He wanted Amanda so badly he could taste it—taste her.
Noah muttered another curse, then stomped back into the office just in time to see an incoming text on his phone, calling him to ICU, which meant the summons was serious.
He raced out the door, instinct telling him the Collier girl was in big trouble.
* * *
“Suction, please.”
Nurse Beth Randall did as she was told, then looked at the monitor, then back at Noah. “Her blood pressure’s dropping, Noah.”
Noah shouted another order, then went back to work, looking for the bleeding artery. He’d been right. When he’d reached the special care unit, Laura Collier had been at death’s door. She had started to bleed internally.
“Get her upstairs ASAP!” he’d shouted, then trotted alongside the gurney himself.
Now, as he worked fast and furiously to save the girl’s life, he muttered out loud, “Hang on, Laura. Don’t give up.”
“Her pressure’s dropping.”
Noah didn’t know who spoke this time as there was a team helping him. Sweat poured out of every pore in his body. The nurse wiped the moistness off his forehead.
“Increase the suction!” Noah ordered, determined not to lose this girl. He couldn’t, not when her parents were standing outside the glass staring at him, fear mingled with trust.
“Noah, she’s—”
“I found it,” Noah practically shouted. “Clamp.”
“We’re losing her!”
“No, we’re not!” Noah lashed back. “She’s going to make it.”
Noah worked harder, feeling the sweat ooze out of every nerve in his body. “Come on, come on.”
“Noah, she’s gone,” the other surgical nurse said in a sad but calm voice. “I’m sorry.”
“Paddles!” Noah said through clenched lips.
After trying for ten minutes, Noah finally called it. “Time of death…15:42pm.”
Too enraged over his inability to save her and too sick at heart for her parents, Noah kept silent. Without looking at anyone, he turned and strode out of the room.
Minutes later, having changed out of his bloody garments, he walked into the small, private waiting room. Mr. Collier had both arms around his wife, who was sobbing against his chest.
Noah touched them both on the shoulder. When they looked up, he said, “I’m sorry, folks. I did everything I could.”
Mr. Collier merely nodded. Noah sensed he was having difficulty speaking as his Adam’s apple was quivering. For his wife’s sake, he seemed to be holding back his own tears.
“You…did all you could,” he said, after coughing several times.
Mrs. Collier lifted her head, her face pinched with a kind of pain that only those who had lost a child could understand. He’d been down that road….
“Are you…you sure she’s gone, Doctor?” Her chin quivered. “Could…could there be a mistake? I mean—”
Noah shook his head, a lump in his own throat preventing him from speaking. Then, after swallowing hard, he said, “No, there’s no mistake.”
“I see,” she said in a breaking voice. “Then our precious baby is truly with the Lord.”
“That’s a beautiful thought, Mrs. Collier.”
“Thanks…thanks again, Doctor, for all you did.”
“I’m sorry it wasn’t enough,” he responded, averting his gaze away from the torment in the mother’s eyes. That was when he saw her.
Amanda stood on the threshold, staring at him.
* * *
No doctor who was worth his salt liked to lose a patient. Amanda took it personally, which made the loss a double whammy. Now, as she watched Noah, she saw a reflection of herself. To him, his failure seemed magnified, the in-your-face kind that slaps you around. Because he was the ultimate control freak and perfectionist combined, it hit him harder than most.
To his credit, though, he hadn’t lost many patients. In fact, they could probably be counted on one hand. Still, one was too many, especially if it was someone who had her entire life ahead of her, such as Laura Collier.
Having to tell the family further magnified the tragedy. That was why when she heard that Noah had lost the girl on the operating table, she hadn’t even stopped to consider her actions.
She was considering them now, as she saw the bleak frustration in his eyes. She questioned her own sanity. Noah wouldn’t want her sympathy. He was the last person she needed to console. He was the last person she needed to be around, for God’s sake.
She had just come from having lunch with a man who loved her and who had proposed to her. Gordon would never leave her like Noah did. Though she hadn’t said yes to Gordon, Amanda intended to, which made seeking out Noah more dangerous than trying to run on a layer of thin ice.
What had she been thinking? She hadn’t. That was the problem. What must he be thinking? Something she didn’t want him to, that was for sure. So what was the answer? Turn her butt around and go back to ER where she belonged and where she should never have left.
She swung around.
“Amanda.”
The