She smiled and patted his arm. “Hang in there, and I’ll make an administrative person out of you yet.”
“But I don’t—”
“Lukas, I can’t in good conscience replace Jarvis George while he’s still suffering from the effects of tuberculin encephalitis.” She lowered her voice. “Just between us, I’m hoping he’ll retire and I won’t have to make the decision, because I don’t want him back here causing me trouble and complaining about every tiny decision I make for this hospital. Still, I want to be fair to him. You are the perfect choice as interim director because you’re the only full-time E.R. physician, and you don’t want the directorship, which means I won’t have a fight on my hands if he comes back.”
“What if he tries to fire me again?”
Her smile returned, and it held a hint of mischief in the fine, powdered lines of her face. “Then I’ll have a valid reason to get rid of him for good.”
After she left, Lukas couldn’t help glancing into the call room where Mercy had been. She was gone. When he stepped into the exam room where Cowboy had been, he found that he had already been taken into surgery. A couple of rooms down, where Buck also awaited a surgeon’s check, Buck’s raised voice burst from behind the trauma room curtain.
“No! Kendra, you can’t do this. Not now. Not here!”
Lukas frowned and stepped forward, but something stopped him from pulling the curtain back. Buck’s voice wasn’t betraying physical pain.
Then came Kendra’s light soprano voice. “I warned you before about this, but did you ever listen? No. You were always too busy playin’ hero, always bargin’ in to save the day, whether it’s a dangerous pet or a woman in a burnin’ buildin’, no matter whether you needed to or not. I’m sick of it, Buck, I mean it.” In the silence, Lukas heard soft sniffles. “I’m sorry, but I can’t take it no more.”
Buck’s deep voice came more gently. “Kendra, honey, this is about your father, not me. Don’t—”
“And everybody loves Buck Oppenheimer. The good ol’ boys slap you on the back when we go out anywhere and tell you what a great guy you are. Do they ever look at me? Do they ever think about what I go through when I’m at home, wonderin’ if my husband’s going to live through the next fire? I’m no hero. To them I’m just a whinin’ female.”
“Nobody’s ever said that about you. They know what you’ve been through.”
“No, they don’t. They don’t care! I can tell what they’re thinkin’ by the look in their eyes. How dare I gripe when my husband comes home late from savin’ people from their own fires? You’re just a fireman, Buck, not a husband.” There was a quiet sob. “I can’t take it no more. I’m sorry, but I’m done with this marriage. I’m just not hero material.”
Lukas stood out in the hallway in shocked silence while Kendra continued to sniff.
“Honey, you’re worked up right now because of this scare,” Buck said with an unsteady voice, “but I’m going to be okay, really. You can ask Dr. Bower. Kendra, don’t leave me, please! Not like—”
The curtain swished back, and a very pretty woman who looked like a young Michelle Pfeiffer swept out, her face contorted with tears. She didn’t glance up, didn’t even notice Lukas standing there, staring in stunned disbelief.
Before Lukas could do anything, however, the human chatterbox, Lauren McCaffrey, swept past him as if she’d been hovering nearby, eavesdropping on every word as shamelessly as Lukas had been. She walked up to the bedside of the shocked man and laid a hand on his muscled arm, her kind green eyes sympathetic.
“Now, don’t you worry, Buck. You know why Kendra’s upset. She’ll come out of this in a while and be begging you to forgive her and forget what she just said, and you two will be all giggles and kisses again in no time. I’ve seen it too many times before. She’s got her head on straight most of the time. She’ll come out of it. Come on, I’ve got to take your blood pressure again, especially after that little display.”
Now both Buck and Lukas stared at Lauren. She ignored them and continued with her job. Buck turned dazed eyes toward Lukas.
“You heard that, Doc?”
“Yes, Buck. I’m sorry.”
“But what am I supposed to do? I’m no hero. I’m just a fireman. And now she’s saying she doesn’t want to be married to me? I don’t take risks, not like—”
“Settle down,” Lauren warned. “I can’t get a good reading if you get all worked up, and it’s not going to help your recovery any, either. Come on, Buck, you’re a fireman. You can handle a stressful situation. You know your wife better than that, and you know she’s going to be fine. You two have had your spats before, and it just makes your marriage stronger. She knows better than to let go of a hunk like you.” She checked his arm to take another reading.
“Lauren, do you have to get a reading right now?” Buck asked, jerking his arm away. “This is my marriage we’re talking about.” He looked at Lukas. “What am I supposed to do?”
Lauren, as always, was the one who answered. “Well, Buck, you pray about it, and you wait a while, then you call Kendra on the telephone and tell her how much you love her. Then arrange for her to pick you up when you’re released, and she will have gotten over it. Isn’t that right, Dr. Bower?”
Lukas quirked an eyebrow at her. “Why are you asking me? I’ve never been married. And neither have you. What makes you think—”
“Ever been dumped, Doc?” Buck asked.
“You haven’t been dumped,” Lauren insisted. “You know she’s just scared. She’s still—”
“Yeah, well, I’ll feel better when I’m back home in my own bed, and I don’t feel Kendra’s foot shoving me out the door.”
Mercy walked into a surprisingly calm waiting room. Josie had sent home most of the patients who could reschedule, and there were only a few scattered around in comfortable chairs, reading the well-stocked library of periodicals with resigned expressions. They perked up when they saw her walk through. She waved and greeted them and apologized without breaking stride as she marched toward her office.
Josie saw her first and scrambled over to her side. “Dr. Mercy, before you go into your office you need—”
“I know, I’ll hurry. I’m sorry—”
“No, you don’t understand—”
“Just let me change lab coats. I got some blood on this one, and it’s all—” She threw open the door to her office, then gasped aloud at the sight of her ex-husband, Theodore Zimmerman, sitting in the straight-backed chair in front of her desk.
“Dr. Mercy, I tried to tell you,” Josie said, stumbling in to stand behind her. “He insisted he had to see you today because he’d made a promise, and I didn’t want to leave him sitting out in the waiting room so you’d have witnesses when you killed him.”
Mercy stared at the man with five years’ worth of loathing. “Get out of this office. How dare you come in here like this?” She turned to Josie. “Start showing the patients to the exam rooms. This won’t take long. I’m going to call the police and let them know he’s here.” She picked up the telephone, almost expecting him to jump up and knock the receiver from her grasp and start shouting obscenities at her—his usual conduct.
He didn’t move. “Please don’t, not yet,” he said quietly. “They released me.”
“I’m supposed to believe that?” She stood staring at the man she had hated for so long she couldn’t remember feeling any other way about him. At times she’d dreamed of killing him—actually dreamed it. And they had been good dreams. Mom would be horrified at some of the