“You can do it, Elise.”
She swallowed and dabbed the eye, surprised at how much blood came from a “tiny” bleeding vessel. Also a little surprised that she, a disabled graduate student with big dreams and no experience, was on the surgical team.
She’d only hoped that one day she could do this, and here she was—beating the odds that were stacked against her as strong and high as this wheelchair.
“Is she okay?” Elise asked when she needed a second and third piece of gauze.
“Yes,” he assured her. “That vessel wasn’t obvious, notably ‘soft’ because it’s not arterial, or catastrophic. A little messy is all.”
The bleeding continued—slower, but stubborn. It must have been a deep vessel, and way too close to the lid margin.
A flicker of fear shot through her. If they lost visibility here, if he couldn’t cauterize precisely enough…Shambles could lose the eye.
Her stomach tightened as he continued the excision and she worked so that her grip on the retractors didn’t tremble.
“Easy,” Wade said gently, still not looking away from the surgical field. “Stay with me, Elise.”
Elise inhaled and willed her hands to still.
Wade angled the light, shifted his fingers a fraction, and with a controlled motion, cauterized the vessel. The stubborn bleed sizzled, then quieted. This time, he dabbed and, finally, the surgical field cleared.
“You fixed it,” she breathed. “I didn’t think it could be done.”
“We fixed it,” he corrected, looking over his mask with a smile in his eyes. “Anyway, lost causes are kind of my thing.”
Her pulse skipped.Lost causes.
She wondered, fleetingly, if he had any idea how that phrase felt to someone like her—someone who’d spent fifteen years navigating a world where most people saw her wheels first and her worth second.
He moved on, resecting the remaining carcinoma until it was clean. “You see this margin?” he asked. “That’s good tissue. She’s going to keep this eye.”
“You make it sound easy.”
“Nothing worth doing is easy. But nothing is impossible, either.”
Some things were, but she kept that to herself as Wade finished the excision, stepped back slightly, and nodded with satisfaction. “Okay. Cryotherapy?”
“The cryoprobe’s ready,” Millie said, gesturing to the unit. “That’s all you need to freeze.”
Elise handed him the chilled probe and watched as he applied the instrument to the newly cleared margin. Frostblossomed like delicate ice crystals across the tissue, which was amazing and oddly beautiful.
Wade was made for this, she mused. What would it be like to have a man like Wade Reynolds at her side, made for her, too? She had no idea, but that sure wouldn’t stop her from fantasizing about it.
When he finished cryotherapy, Shambles was prepped for recovery, the eye neatly bandaged. Wade removed his gloves and stretched his back with a light groan.
Elise exhaled the breath she’d been holding for…maybe the entire procedure.
“She did great,” Wade said, giving the sheep’s woolly cheek a pat. “Tough little girl.”
“Youdid great,” she countered.
His eyes met hers—green, warm, and so full of quiet humility it made her chest ache.
“Couldn’t have done it without you, Elise.”
Her heart fluttered as they moved Shambles to recovery. The ewe stirred faintly, the sedative wearing off. Elise brushed her wool, whispering, “Good job, girlie,” as Wade monitored the vitals.
When Shambles settled peacefully, Wade turned to Elise with a smile that lit up everything inside her.
