The Surgeon's New-Year Wedding Wish (3 page)

Leila frowned, her stomach clenching in warning. This was one of the reasons she was glad she’d decided not to have kids. “Please tell me one of them isn’t Ben Germaine.”

“No, not this time,” Jadon assured her. “Although it sounds as if Seth Taylor was on the scene, along with Quinn.”

Quinn? How odd. But she didn’t give the coincidence more than a passing thought.

“Thank heavens Ben wasn’t involved.” Ben was Kylie and Seth’s son and the boy tended to be a bit accident prone. Earlier that month, he’d slipped on the rocks and
tumbled into the icy water of Lake Michigan. Jadon’s new fiancée, Alyssa, had fallen in herself, when trying to save him. She’d been pregnant at the time, seven and a half months along with twins. Leila had been there when they’d been brought in and it was touch and go for a while. Thankfully, everyone was fine now, including Jadon and Alyssa’s twin girls, Grace and Gretchen, born several weeks early. The entire incident had been very scary, touching many of the Cedar Bluff staff members who’d been concerned when one of their own had been injured.

Technically, Ben was Kylie’s son, but it was clear from Seth’s actions that he already considered the boy to be his own. Seth and Kylie were getting married next weekend, on New Year’s Eve.

She envied their happiness, although reminded herself that she’d been lucky to have loved a wonderful man like George. George had understood and respected her hesitancy to have children, considering she didn’t know anything about her heritage. Heaven knew what genes she’d be passing on. She missed him, and tried to be grateful for the few months they’d shared together.

Pushing the sorrows of the past aside, Leila was going to ask more details about their young patients, but in that moment both their pagers went off.

“They’re here,” he said, leaving the staff break room in a rush to get out to the trauma room. Leila followed close on his heels, her previous exhaustion quickly submerged beneath a fresh wave of adrenaline.

“Danny is the more seriously injured of the two,” Kylie Germaine was saying, as the gurneys were wheeled in. Leila was surprised to see Quinn Torres
walking on the opposite side of the gurney from Kylie, hanging on to the boy’s hand. What on earth had he been doing on the sledding hill? “Danny is six years old, weighs an estimated thirty pounds and has sustained a head injury and possible fractured left tibia.”

“And what about the second victim?” Leila asked, not willing to take only the paramedic’s word about which patient was worse, no matter how much she liked and trusted Kylie. She needed to make her own judgment.

Quinn opened his mouth, but Kylie put a hand on his arm and continued, not giving him the chance to interrupt.

“Charlie Atkins is also six years old, also estimated to be about thirty pounds and he doesn’t seem to have any obvious signs of injury,” Kylie informed them. “Charlie’s vitals are stable. Danny Torres was in the front of the sled and took the brunt of the force when they hit the tree.”

Danny Torres? Leila suppressed a spurt of surprise in discovering Quinn had a son. She never would have guessed him to be a father. Did Quinn have a wife, too?

And why did she care?

Her gaze centered on the boy. Danny was crying, but not making much noise, his sobs choked as if he was afraid to make any sound. Her heart melted in empathy. She crossed over to him, trying to ignore Quinn’s sharp, penetrating gaze.

“Hi, Danny, my name is Dr. Leila and I’m here to help make you feel better.” She gave Danny her best reassuring smile and the boy struggled to stop crying, seemingly listening to her soft voice. “You’re being very
brave, Danny. I know you’re hurt. The nurse is going to give you something to take away your pain, but first I need to ask you a few questions. Can you tell me exactly where it hurts the most? Which part of your body hurts the most?”

Danny pointed to his left leg and looked up at his father, tears continuing to trickle silently down his ruddy cheeks.

“No, Danny can’t tell you where it hurts,” Quinn said in a low, rough voice full of parental concern. “He doesn’t talk, but he does know sign language. I’ll translate for him.”

“D
ANNY
doesn’t talk?” Leila said with a frown. That didn’t make sense, since Danny seemed to hear her just fine. Unless he was extremely skilled at lip-reading? “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize he was deaf.”

“He’s not deaf,” Quinn said in a clipped, irritated tone. “He just doesn’t talk.” Quinn’s jaw was tense as if he didn’t like having to explain his son’s situation. He turned toward the boy and his voice became gentle. “Danny, Dr. Ross wants to know where you hurt. Tell us exactly what hurts you, okay?”

Danny pointed to his left leg and his forehead. He had the same jet-black hair as his father, and the same dark compelling eyes. The resemblance between father and son was striking.

“What about your stomach, Danny?” Leila persisted. “Does your stomach hurt? Or maybe your ribs?”

Danny shook his head, big, fat tears trickling down his cheeks. For some reason, those silent tears bothered her more than if he’d been wailing loudly. Kylie had stabilized his left lower leg, containing his possible fracture within an inflatable boot, but for the moment she was
more concerned about the extent of his head injury. “Okay, Danny, I’m going to examine you for a minute here. I’m going to flash a small light into your eyes, okay? Can you look over my shoulder at the wall behind me?”

Danny nodded and complied with her request. His pupils were unequal but did react to light. “Any blurred vision, Danny? Or ringing in your ears? Do you feel sick to your stomach?”

Quinn’s son shook his head to all her questions.

She could feel Quinn’s intense gaze and couldn’t help wondering if he didn’t trust her judgment. At least, not when it came to his son.

“Danny, can you tell me where you are?” To this point, she’d given him all yes or no questions, but now she needed to really assess his brain function. “What is this place?”

“Hospital,” Quinn said when Danny made a few graceful gestures with his small hands. “The hospital where my dad works.”

“Good. Now, tell me which holiday we just had?”

For a moment the boy’s forehead furrowed, as if he had to think about her question.

She glanced at Quinn. “Do you celebrate the holiday?”

Quinn nodded. “Which holiday did we just have, Danny?” he asked, signing the question at the same time.

“Christmas,” Quinn said when Danny responded by signing again. “He says he received a games console for Christmas.”

“Ah, I bet that’s fun. I heard Ben Germaine got one,
too. Do you let your dad play with it or is it only for kids?” she asked.

For the first time, a smile broke through on Danny’s young face. He nodded, his fingers flew again and she found herself wishing she knew sign language herself, so she could communicate better with the boy directly, without needing Quinn.

“Yes, he lets me play so that he can win,” Quinn translated.

She laughed. “Good for you, Danny. I’d love to watch you beat your dad. Now, is it okay if I listen to your heart and lungs?”

Danny nodded, and she quickly auscultated his heart, lungs and stomach before straightening to glance at Quinn.

“He certainly seems stable, but with his pupils being slightly unequal in size, I’d like to get a CT scan of his head, just to make sure we’re not missing anything more serious. We can also get the X-rays of his leg at the same time. I’d like to have the films ready before I call the orthopedic surgeon on call to take a look at his leg.”

“All right,” Quinn said, giving his consent. “I’d like to go with him to the radiology department.”

“Of course. And we’ll give him something for pain, too, since I’m sure his leg will be hurting once they take that boot off.” For an awkward moment she hesitated, wondering if she should ask about Danny’s mother or not. Quinn wasn’t exactly forthcoming about his personal life. He was dressed casually, in a pair of black jeans and a black sweater, and she’d noticed he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, which didn’t necessarily mean
a whole lot these days. “Is there…anyone else you’d like us to notify?”

“No.” Quinn’s response was blunt.

Danny was frowning and he tugged on his father’s arm to get his attention. The boy signed a question. She watched with a puzzled frown, wondering what was wrong.

“If I call Auntie D., she’ll cut her visit short,” Quinn said to Danny’s silent question. She noticed Quinn signed and spoke to Danny at the same time, regardless of the fact that Danny could hear. “I’ll call her later on to let her know what happened, okay?”

“Auntie D.?” Leila repeated, knowing full well she was poking her nose into his personal business yet unable to help herself.

Quinn hesitated, as if he might not answer, but then said, “Danny’s caregiver. She’s really Danny’s great-aunt, she helps look after Danny while I’m at work.”

“I see.” So there was an Auntie D. in the picture, but no mother. She wanted to ask more, but this wasn’t the time as she still needed to call Radiology to get the CT scan and X-rays, and check out her other patient. “Give me a few minutes to get the radiology exams ordered.”

When she’d finished making all the arrangements, she crossed over to where Jadon was examining Charlie. “How is he?”

“Fine. I can’t find any major signs of injury other than maybe a sprained wrist.”

“Great.” She smiled at Charlie. “Guess you’re pretty lucky, huh? At least you won’t be stuck in a cast, like Danny will be.”

Charlie frowned at the news. “I think my wrist needs
a cast, too,” he said in a serious tone, holding up his injured wrist. “It hurts really, really bad.”

“Hmm.” She hid a smile and pretended to consider his words as she gently manipulated his wrist. “We could put an immobilizer on for a few days, it’s not as bulky as a cast but it should work to keep the pain and swelling down. But that means you won’t be able to play any video games.”

“No video games?” Charlie’s eyes widened comically as he realized the impact of his request.

“Nope.” She took a small wrist immobilizer from the cart even though they generally didn’t like to use them because some exercise was good for mildly injured joints, but she wasn’t worried because she suspected this particular immobilizer wouldn’t last on Charlie’s wrist for very long anyway. She placed it over his sore wrist. “Now, you should wear this during the day, but once your wrist starts to feel better, you can take it off.”

“Okay.” Charlie seemed satisfied with the compromise. His mother rushed in and he proudly held up his wrist. “Mom, I got a sprain!”

“A sprain? Let me see.” The woman examined his wrist, then put a hand on her son’s head, checking for other signs of the sledding crash. She gave Leila a harried glance. “Does he have any other injuries? Is he really all right?”

“Yes, he’s fine.” Leila gave her a reassuring smile. “And he can take off the immobilizer once his wrist begins to feel better or once he’s tired of wearing it. You’re just in time as he’s all ready to be discharged home.”

“Thank heavens,” Charlie’s mother muttered, giving
him a quick hug. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, do you hear me?” she said to her son.

“I won’t. But can I see Danny before I go?”

Leila glanced over to where Quinn and Danny were still waiting to head over to the radiology department. “Yes, I’m sure Danny wouldn’t mind if you went over to say goodbye.”

Charlie scrambled down from the gurney with a guiding hand from his mother and went over to his friend. Danny didn’t speak and Charlie didn’t know sign language, but it was clear to her that the boys still managed to communicate with each other just fine between Charlie’s words and Danny’s gestures.

Moments later, the transport team came to pick up Danny for his tests.

“Let’s get this place cleared up. We’ll put Danny in a regular room in the arena when he gets back,” Leila said to Amy, the nurse in charge for the day.

“Okay. What do you think is wrong with Danny that he won’t talk?” Amy asked, as she began to clear the area.

“I don’t know and it’s not any of our business one way or the other,” Leila said in a tone meant to squash the rumor mill. She headed over to the nearest workstation to finish documenting Danny’s assessment.

Although as she completed the necessary paperwork, she couldn’t help wondering the same thing. Why on earth didn’t Danny talk? Especially if he could hear and understand perfectly well?

Since Quinn had purposefully kept quiet about Danny’s situation, she figured he wasn’t going to tell her just to satisfy her idle curiosity.

It was an hour and a half later before Danny’s leg was put in a cast, the X-rays having revealed a clean break in his left tibia. The bright lights had started to bother him, though, so as soon as the boy’s cast had been applied, Quinn had shut down the lights.

Leila entered the room, holding the report containing Danny’s CT scan results. “Danny’s CT scan is clear, Quinn, but I have to tell you, I’d feel better if we kept an eye on him here overnight. Jadon agrees with me on this.”

Quinn read the results and then glanced down at Danny. “I don’t know if that’s necessary. I can keep an eye on him at home just as well.”

He was right. As a medical professional he knew exactly what changes to look for. Still, he was also Danny’s father and if she sent Danny home, Quinn would get little if any sleep.

“Yes, you could,” she admitted, “but Danny does have a concussion and rather than put the burden on you, I’d prefer to keep him here so that we can keep a close eye out for any subtle neurologic changes. Besides, with that cast he’s going to need some decent pain management during the night, too.”

When Quinn still hesitated, his expression torn, she put a reassuring hand on his arm. “Stay for one night. By the morning he should be feeling better.”

He stared at her hand and then slowly lifted his gaze to her face. Just as before, a strange undercurrent of awareness tingled between them and she saw a flash of desire in his eyes before it vanished so quickly she might have imagined it.

“All right. We’ll stay.”

“Great.” She dropped her hand from his arm, and tried not to cover her confusion. She didn’t understand why she reacted this way to a man who was nothing more than a colleague. She turned toward the door. “I’ll tell Jadon to arrange for a bed.”

“Leila?” His deep husky voice saying her name stopped her in her tracks.

Her mouth went dry. She nervously licked her lips as she turned to face him. “Yes?”

“Thanks.” His serious gaze bored into hers. “You were wonderful with Danny.”

“You’re welcome.” She smiled and then went out to the arena to ask Amy to arrange for Danny’s transfer upstairs.

Once the task was finished, she went to relax in the lounge, letting Jadon take over the management of the ED. As she let her eyes drift closed, she tried to figure out why loathing Quinn Torres had been so much easier than liking him.

Quinn’s forearm tingled from Leila’s innocent touch long after she’d left. He took several deep breaths, trying to ignore the sensation, but to no avail. Of course, it didn’t help that a hint of her jasmine scent lingered in the air.

Admit it, he told himself harshly, you’re sexually attracted to her, no matter how much you wish you weren’t. Quinn took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He would have preferred his hormones to stay in their deep freeze rather than flowing hotly, urgently through his bloodstream like heat-seeking missiles aiming for the closest female within touching distance.

He closed his eyes, trying to slow his racing heart, knowing that Delores was probably right. He’d been alone for too long. Thank heavens she wasn’t here as he didn’t think he’d hidden his reaction to Leila very well and she would have pounced on the attraction with a barely restrained glee.

He wasn’t interested in a relationship. Would never again open himself up to the pain and agony of marriage. But he wasn’t a monk either. Apparently his body was letting him know that he needed sex.

Leila’s image bloomed in his mind, instantly causing his groin to tighten with need.

No. Not Leila. Not anyone here in Cedar Bluff. Small-town secrets were an oxymoron because there simply weren’t any. Everyone always knew everyone else’s business. He’d been amazed that he’d been able to hide the truth regarding Danny’s muteness for as long as he had. Although he suspected it was just a matter of time before someone became curious enough to search through back newspaper articles to discover the truth.

Not Leila. As much as he didn’t particularly like the idea, he’d be better off going to Chicago, losing himself in the anonymity of the big-city bar scene. Normally, he wouldn’t even entertain the idea, but what choice did he have? Long-term relationships were out of the question, so he’d have to make do with a quick fling, where no one would get hurt. Women seemed attracted to him and he knew he wouldn’t have to go home alone if he didn’t want to.

“Dr. Torres? Danny’s room is ready now.” Amy, the cheerful nurse who’d helped minister to Danny’s needs, smiled at him. Annoying to realize he didn’t feel one
iota of desire for her. So much for his theory about responding to any woman within touching distance. What was wrong with him? Why was he so acutely aware of Leila?

“Thanks.” He unfolded his lean frame and stood, stretching the kinks out of his neck. Danny didn’t like the bright lights, but tolerated the ride upstairs to the fourth-floor children’s wing well enough.

“Is there anything else you need before I go?” Amy asked, her smile a tad too bright. He had the sense she was way too curious about Danny.

Maybe she’d be the one to do the Internet search. The knowledge made him tense and scowl. He would do anything to protect his son.

“No,” he said bluntly, not caring if he sounded rude. Rudeness helped keep people’s curiosity at bay. When she left, he settled into a chair next to Danny’s bed. Seconds later, a young pediatric nurse named Elizabeth came in to perform an admission assessment on his son. He dreaded having to explain about Danny’s inability to speak all over again, but Amy must have done a good job of handing over care because Elizabeth didn’t pry for more information, but kept her questions to Danny easy so he could simply respond with a nod or headshake.