The way his eyes followed her, no matter who else was in the room….
She drifted into a sleep of aimless wandering, as if walking through a ghostly battlefield. Gunsmoke filled the air, echoes of rifle fire and men shouting "run"in her ears. A sense of urgency built in her the longer she walked, the louder it all became. Someone else was there—someone who needed help. That was why she was there. Who was it?
Dad?A vision of her father, dressed like she hadn’t seen him since she was little, in his Navy blues with a tight smile on his lips and remorse in his eyes, flashed in front of her. Then it faded.
She moved faster, the rifle fire turning to canon fire as the shouting echoes grew shadows. He was there, on the other side of the ridge just ahead. Barely even a ridge. A small rocky outcropping that provided a sort of natural shelter. He was there, and he was wounded, and she had to save him.
She leapt around the rock, her feet practically skidding in the dirt as more debris crashed overhead, her eyes wildly scanning for any signs of life or movement. And there he was, propped at the shoulder and smirking at her like they weren’t in the middle of a warzone.
“Lance,” she breathed, dropping to his side.
He reached out and trailed his fingers over her cheek. “It’s the thrill of the fight. Risin’ up to the challenge of our—”
Lynnette jerked awake, startled as familiar classic rock steamrolled over the fading sounds of gunfire and outcries. Her heart raced and seconds passed before she thought to silence her alarm.That was…It’d been a dream. A strange, but not so strange, dream.
About Lance. Lance and his stupid, sexy smirk.
That was bad. The fun kind of bad that made her feel a little giddy inside, and guilty at the same time.
Lynnette groaned at herself and swung out of bed to trudge through her morning. She didn’t remember to shoot off a text to Jenna until she was pouring the milk into her cereal, so she ate one-handed and typed up something quick but genuine. At least her anger had ebbed while she slept.
She didn’t hear back from Jenna before it was time to clock into work, and while that was unusual, Lynnette had to remind herself that the bakery was still shut down. Jenna might have been taking advantage of that to sleep past the sunrise. It wasn’t even a bad idea. So, she resolved to worry later, set the change of clothes she’d brought with her in her locker, and made her way to her temporary duty station.
Amy’s smile was easy and automatic. “Good morning,” she said as Lynnette approached.
Lynnette offered the warmest smile she had in her. “It will be with like three more coffees.”
Amy laughed. “Totally fair.” She bent down, then hauled up a heavy-duty canister the likes of which Lynnette had only seen when her father had gone on long hunting trips. “I bring extra.”
“You’re a genius,” Lynnette replied. She leaned forward. “So, anything for me?”
Amy set her liquid gold back down and tapped into her system. “Let’s see … Mrs. Alvers is being released today. We got a new patient late last night, she’s up from ICU, definitely going to be here a few days. And the old pervert had a setback, so he’ll be staying another day at least.” She offered Lynnette a sympathy wince. “Sorry. At least the vet’s still here. He’s not so bad, right?”
Lynnette did her best to fight off a blush.Since when do I blush at work?She had a serious problem, dammit. “He’s easy to talk to, actually,” she allowed. “I’ll go get to know the new addition, then.”
Amy bade her good luck and Lynnette continued down the first hall. Despite what she’d said, she opted to pop in on Mrs. Alvers first, just to make sure she gave the woman at least one warm farewell on her departing day. She didn’t linger, though, and within a handful of minutes she was slipping into one of the previously empty rooms to greet their newest admission.
The female, barely five years Lynnette’s junior at twenty-eight, had been rushed to the ER Monday morning after being found under some rubble according to the file. She had several areas of scrapes and bruises, but the concern was the heavy impact that had cracked two ribs and the rebar that had penetrated her chest. One of the patient’s lungs had deflated, likely from the weight of the impact, and ironically that had probably spared her from having the rebar stab straight through it. But it didn’tsound like the surgeons had had an easy time patching her up, and she’d spent a day and a half in ICU post-surgery.
Then again, she was out of ICU less than forty-eight hours after all of that physical trauma, so that was a good sign. It was always important to be optimistic.
The younger woman blinked drowsy eyes open as Lynnette carefully swapped IV bags. She was on oxygen, of course. Her lung would need time to re-inflate after the layers of trauma. And that meant it was hard for her to speak.
Lynnette smiled and stepped more properly into her line-of-sight. “Good morning. Is it Kara or Kara?” She changed her emphasis on the ‘a’ with each use of the name and simultaneously held up one hand, indicating one finger for one and two fingers for the second.
The patient’s eyes crinkled and she raised one arm not quite to elbow height, and held up two fingers. So, it wasKah-ra, like the word car with an ‘a’ at the end.
“Kara it is,” Lynnette said with a nod. She gently caught the woman’s raised hand and gave a soft squeeze. “I’m Lynnette. I’ll be checking in on you this morning.” She released Kara’s hand as she spoke and let herself glance down, confirming that a corded call button had been placed within Kara’s reach. “I see you know where your call button is if you need anything, that’s good. Can you show me with your hand how bad the pain is? On a scale from one to five?”
Kara’s lips twitched beneath the oxygen mask and she raised her hand again, shakily forming a three.
“Well, that sounds uncomfortable.” Lynnette lifted her tablet to double-check Kara’s file. There were no notes about refusal of medication, or anything about known allergies. Then again, the woman had been found by a passerby and brought in by medics, so they’d likely only had whatever information Kara had on her person at the time. As this was Kara’s first day in the new ward, itbehooved Lynnette to verify for herself that the ICU team hadn’t made any egregious assumptions. Which made it helpful that Kara was conscious, even if the poor woman couldn’t speak. She looked across at Kara again. “One finger for yes, two for no,” she said, “are you allergic to any medications?” If the answer was yes, they would have to change systems, but it was a starting point.
Fortunately, Kara quickly flashed two fingers. She wasn’t raising her arm as high, but she was making the motion clear.
Lynnette nodded. “Good. Okay. I’m going to get you something for that pain, then. And the doctor will swing by within the hour to check in on you, too.” She patted Kara’s hand. “You just get as much rest as you can, and push that button if you need anything at all.”
Kara rolled her wrist to offer a thumbs-up. It was a small sign that she was still holding on to her spirit, and that was good.
