“Just critical care,” Quinn assured him. “And I think they’re moving a couple of patients out, so you should be fine.”
“Okay. Anything else about this guy I need to know?”
“Not really,” Quinn murmured, glancing over at the patient. “We have an H/H pending and there are four units of PRBCs and four units of fresh frozen plasma on hand if you need them.”
“Sounds good.”
“Excellent,” Quinn said, slapping Simon on the back. “Have a good night, because I know I will.”
Simon had to laugh. “Is that your way of saying Leila is off tonight, too? “
“Yes, and Kane Ryerson is the surgeon on call tonight. Don’t you dare page Leila unless you have a code-yellow situation,” Quinn threatened.
A code yellow was a disaster call, something they’d never had to implement in time he’d been there. “Don’t worry, we won’t.”
After Quinn had left, he went over to stand at the foot of the patient’s gurney, taking note of the most recent vital signs flashing across the screen. Hailey was performing a physical assessment, her head bent down as she listened to his heart and lungs. His fingers itched to tuck the silky strands of blonde hair behind her ear.
He dragged his gaze away with an effort. So what if he thought she was incredibly attractive? Just the fact that she was a nurse on staff made her off-limits.
“Ah, Dr—I mean, Simon?”
He inwardly cursed when just the sound of his name in her voice made his gut tighten with awareness. Get a grip! She’s off-limits!
“What do you need?” he asked, glancing up from the computer screen and keeping his expression neutral.
“His hemoglobin hasn’t come up much—it’s 7.8 now and was 7.5 before the blood transfusion,” Hailey informed him. “Do you want me to start another unit?”
“Yes, that should work. Hopefully he’ll be transferred upstairs to the ICU shortly,” he decided.
“Sounds good.”
Hailey smiled, but he noticed a strange wariness in her blue eyes as she crossed over to the nearest phone to order the unit of blood.
He told himself to be glad Hailey seemed content to keep a professional distance between them.
Because heaven knew, if she were to come on to him, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to turn her down as easily as he had Rachel.
Hailey eagerly transferred her patient up to the medical ICU, thankful for the momentary reprieve from being stuck in close proximity to Simon.
She’d tried to get out of working in the trauma bay for her shift but Theresa, the ED manager, hadn’t given her a choice. The two trauma-trained nurses had both called in sick, leaving her to pick up the trauma shift.
Another reason she’d left Trinity Medical Center had been because she’d lost the thrill of working in a level-one trauma center. She liked ED nursing overall, but had told Theresa there was no rush in getting cross-trained to trauma. Hailey had planned on settling in for at least another few months before having to face her first shift there.
Guess not.
She could do it, she told herself for the fifth time. Of course, having Simon on duty with her served as a distraction from her past.
She didn’t linger upstairs, as much as she wanted to, but hurried back down to the trauma bay, knowing another patient could arrive at any moment. Besides, there were still a few patients in team one to follow up on.
Her trauma pager remained silent, though, so when she returned to the department, she left the tech, a new woman named Bonnie, to clean up and restock the trauma bay while she headed back over to team one.
She double-checked on the patient they were treating for flu. The poor woman had thrown up right after getting settled into her room, just missing Hailey’s feet. Hailey glanced up at the IV bag, satisfied to see it was nearly empty. “How are you feeling, Christy?” she asked the young college student.
“Better,” the girl murmured with a wan smile. “At least I don’t feel as much like I’m going to throw up.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Hailey said in a light, teasing tone. “Good to know my shoes are safe. Let’s have you try to eat something, hmm? I’ll get you some crackers and white soda.”
Christy wrinkled her nose and put a hand over her stomach. “Do I really have to?”
Hailey nodded. “If you can keep the crackers and soda down, I’ll get Dr. Carter … er … Simon to discharge you.”
“Dr. Dreamy’s name is Simon?” Christy asked with a heavy sigh, running her fingers through her limp brown hair. “He’s not wearing a wedding ring. Does that mean he’s single?”
She chuckled and shook her head. “I’m not answering that, you’ll have to ask him yourself.” She left the room to get the promised crackers and soda, returning in less than a minute. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” The girl’s eyes brightened despite her pasty complexion and Hailey wasn’t surprised when she heard Simon enter the room behind her. “Hi, Dr. Simon. I’m feeling much better after that IV you gave me.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Simon responded, his deep voice sending a shiver down Hailey’s spine. She didn’t so much as glance at him, concentrating on disconnecting the IV tubing from the pump. “Looks like you’re well enough to leave, Christy.”
Leave? Hailey tossed the bag and tubing in the garbage and turned toward him. “I told Christy she had to eat the crackers and drink the soda first, to make sure everything stays in her stomach.”
There was a slight hesitation before he gave a brief nod. “Good. I’ll get the discharge orders started.”
After Simon left, the young woman let out another sigh. “Maybe I should throw up again, just so I can stay longer.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Hailey said dryly. “A better plan would be to get healthy, and then come back to visit when you look smashing. Doctors aren’t overly impressed with sickly patients.”
“Good idea,” Christy said, with such enthusiasm Hailey knew the girl was starting to feel better.
Barely three seconds after Christy Drummel had been safely discharged, Hailey’s trauma pager went off.
She read the text message with a sinking heart.
Male victim, MVC, pulse 130, BP 80/40, long extrication, suspected chest injuries. ETA three minutes.
“Hailey?” she glanced up when Simon called her name. “We have a trauma on the way. Are you ready?”
No. She wasn’t ready. But she nodded anyway, praying she wouldn’t throw up the way Christy had. “Of course.”
Hailey finished with her other patient’s labs and then took her place in the trauma bay as the paramedics wheeled in the new arrival. The patient was a young seventeen-year-old male, who’d run his stolen car into a tree while being chased by the police.
He’d been wedged inside the car, to the point where it had taken the firemen over forty-five minutes to get him out.
The first glance at his pale and lifeless face made her blood run cold.
Not Andrew.
She kept the mantra running in the back of her mind as she concentrated on getting the new patient connected to the heart monitor. His vital signs were dangerously low.
The monitor began alarming. “I’m losing his blood pressure,” she said sharply, with a worried glance at Simon.
Simon looked