She didn’t know the true version of him. Maybe if circumstances had been different, if something more could’ve stemmed from their night of passion, she might know the real Sam who remained locked behind those protective walls.
There could’ve been something more there.
Whatever he was protecting, it ran deep and Mindy would never know.
It was for the best.
She was his boss; he was a resident. That’s all it could ever be, but she couldn’t help but feel an inkling of regret.
“I’ll see you at rounds in thirty minutes.” Mindy didn’t look at him, but he didn’t stop her from leaving this time, which was good, because she had to distance herself from him emotionally.
Dr. Samuel Napier was off-limits, even if she didn’t want him to be.
SAM STOOD BACK because the ER was absolutely packed full of casualties from a multi-car pile-up. Usually, he’d be right into the fray, helping, but Mindy didn’t want him to so much as touch a patient.
There were more than enough trauma residents and general surgeon residents to lend a helping hand.
Mindy wanted him watching as she assessed an injured pregnant mother. One who was only twenty-six weeks. Mindy and neonatologist Dr. Hall were assessing the mother in a trauma pod and Sam was watching them.
Which kind of annoyed him. Greatly. He wanted to be in the throng, helping the wounded. This was going against the grain for him.
As he scanned the medical staff out on the floor he could see at least two residents he knew doing what they did best. Practicing medicine.
Rebecca looked up from where he was working and shot him a look of What gives? And all Sam could do was shrug. He had his orders. He was to observe. Very similar to his mother’s methods.
Don’t think about her now.
“Get out of the way!” Dr. Chang’s voice was shrill above the din and he watched as she ran beside a gurney, a little body wrapped up and bagged, as they pushed through the crowds toward the surgical floor.
Sam’s gut instinct was to run after Dr. Chang and that child. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to go.
“Dr. Napier?”
Sam cursed under his breath as he turned around.
“Distracted?” Mindy asked, slinging her stethoscope around her neck.
“No.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Well, Ms. Bayberry is your responsibility. Get her up to Ultrasound and monitor her contractions. She’s pregnant with twins and was involved in the collision. We’re looking for signs of pre-term labor. Also contact her current practitioner. I’d like her updated files about her pregnancy.”
“Isn’t that best left to an intern?” he asked, annoyed that he wasn’t with Dr. Chang.
Mindy crossed her arms. “I asked you to do it, Dr. Napier. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No. Of course not.” Sam moved passed Mindy toward Ms. Bayberry’s bed. Dr. Hall ignored him as she conferred with Mindy about the treatment should poor Ms. Bayberry go into labor.
“Will my babies be okay?” Ms. Bayberry asked nervously, her eyes wide with fear. This was the part of the job he hated the most, when he couldn’t answer the patient’s questions.
“Will this treatment help my son?”
“Will this cure him?”
It tugged at his heartstrings. It ate him up inside and he didn’t know where the parents found strength. He’d talked to his father about that once, after watching children struggle with life-threatening conditions. It scared him, bringing a child into the world, and for one moment, when he had first been starting his residency and focusing on pediatrics, he’d thought about leaving and following in his mother’s footsteps.
“I don’t know how you do it. How do you find the strength when your child is sick?”
“You just do. What else can you do? You give them everything. That’s what being a parent is,” his father had said. “I would do anything for you and your brothers. I don’t care what happens to me. Only my children matter.”
And as Ms. Bayberry looked up at him, fear in her eyes, it affected him. Only he couldn’t let her see it. For her, he had to be strong so that she could be strong for her babies, but he couldn’t promise her anything.
That was something he learned from his mother.
Never promise a patient something you couldn’t deliver with one hundred percent certainty. Even though Ms. Bayberry was in the best hands with Mindy, of that he was sure, he didn’t know the future so he could only offer her what he could to ease her mind.
“You’re in the best hands, Ms. Bayberry. Let’s get you upstairs for some scans.” And he smiled at her and she relaxed. Though she was still terrified, he could see a bit of that fear dissipating and the goal was to keep her calm.
He was taking some vitals and making sure the machines monitoring her contractions were ready to transport when he glanced up.
Mindy was watching him. She wasn’t listening to Dr. Hall her gaze was focused on him. He wasn’t sure if it was with admiration or surprise, but whatever it was it made his heart beat just a bit faster and he looked away as he worked with the nurse to get Ms. Bayberry to transport.
Mindy made it clear that he was to stick by his patient’s side and make sure that she didn’t go into pre-term labor. He had to stay focused. He was already in Mindy’s bad books, even though he’d made it clear to her that it had been a mistake.
And it had been. A huge mistake.
If only Mindy hadn’t been his new boss.
If only what?
Could he honestly tell himself that he wouldn’t have pursued her? No, he wouldn’t have, because right now he didn’t have time for that sort of thing. The only thing about their one night together was he wouldn’t have thought it a mistake. Never a mistake.
He wheeled Ms. Bayberry out of the emergency department, with only one glance back to see residents in his class darting through Trauma after their attending, getting their hands dirty, wishing he was working with Dr. Chang on the child she’d been wheeling up to surgery.
A touch from Ms. Bayberry brought him back to the present. The gauze on her forehead was soaked and as they waited on for the elevator to come, he reached down and gingerly touched her forehead.
“Has anyone seen to that?”
“It’s just a scratch,” she said, but wincing as she did so.
“Let me take a look.” As he peeled back the bandages, he could see a large gash. One that would leave a nasty scar but wasn’t life-threatening. “That’s not pleasant.”
“I’m sure it’s not,” Ms. Bayberry said, her voice rising. “I was more concerned about getting my babies checked out than having them attend to my cut.”
“Of course, but I think we’ll have someone with real talent stitch that up for you, okay?”
She smiled. “You?”
“No, not me. I’m a pediatric surgeon, I deal with delicate stitches, but we’re very fortunate to have a former plastic surgeon to the stars on staff.”
Ms. Bayberry chuckled and the doors to the elevator opened.