The Doctor's Devotion

“Lauren?” Surprise coursed through him.

She leaned out of a linen closet. “Yes?”

“You’re still here?” He approached Lauren slowly lest she unleash the anger he’d glimpsed earlier. Calm filled her face—and some other expression he couldn’t place.

“Surprised?” She smiled.

“I am. Thought you left hours ago. You’re free to.”

She fiddled with the blanket. “I know.”

He kept a gentle distance. She stepped away then turned back.

He readied for an explosion. Her face stayed thoughtful.

“Mitch?” Her mouth fumbled with words, which drew his attention to full lips. Bright red. Probably that color from dehydration, running halls for hours with nothing to drink.

He wrestled his unruly attention back to her eyes.

Finally she held his gaze. “I wanted to say thanks.”

He nodded, not wanting her to have to explain.

By not giving her the chance to opt out of helping, he’d given her something unexpected. Had her confidence in her nursing skills been restored by this horrible accident?

“Lauren?” He liked how her name rolled off his tongue.

“Yes, Dr. Wellington?” She paused. Lovely profile.

“How many more patients might you go on to help now?”

“Tonight?” She looked haggard at the thought.

“No. We’re done here tonight. I meant how many more patients…in life.”

She blinked rapidly but didn’t answer.

“Any?”

She bravely met his gaze and his question with an honest but vulnerable face. “Not sure. Jury’s still out on that one.”

“Would you reconsider my vacant nurse position?”

She looked shocked that he’d ask again. “I’m honored you’d trust me, but no. My life is in Texas.”

“But your grandfather is here.”

Scowling, she chewed her lip. “Thank you, Dr. Obvious.”

Mitch chuckled. “We need an assertive charge nurse. I have it on good faith you can hold your own with bossy physicians.”

She rolled her eyes. “My patient’s blanket is getting cold. Your patient, rather.”

Her answer far from pacified.

“Very well.” He motioned. “Carry on.”

Face lifted, she hugged the blanket. “It’s for the texting teenage girl. I heard you lost her passenger. I’m sorry.”

Mitch nodded. “We did everything we could.”

She searched his eyes. “I admire you and your team. How do you do it? Lose someone yet never give up?”

“Because despite each one we lose, there’s a slew to save.”

She tucked her chin, as though trying to draw warmth from the blanket herself.

Not caring that his back bore Kate’s insatiably curious stare, Mitch stepped close, his arms on her shoulders. “Lauren, I know this was horrific and hard. I didn’t leave you much choice, but you held up as well as anyone. Sorry if I came across as rude and unfeeling before.”

“You had a job to do and you were right…people were dying.” She backed out of his grasp. “The last thing I want hanging over me is more guilt. I couldn’t abandon you. Or your team.” She nodded toward Kate, who nodded back. “Or them.” Lauren indicated rooms of recovering patients.

Mitch stilled, respecting her need for space.

Good thing, because the beauty that unleashed every time she blinked was kicking his concentration to the curb. She had the most gorgeous green eyes.

Before she got out of hearing range he said, “Nurse Bates?”

“Yes, Dr. Wellington?” She appeared miffed every time he used the title. Like she knew he did so intentionally.

He leaned out of earshot of Kate, who’d be dying like an eavesdropping little sister to know what was said. “Please, call me Mitch. ‘Dr. Wellington’ makes me feel snobby and senile.”

A gorgeous smile dawned. “Agreed. But only if you stop, and I mean this instant, calling me Nurse Bates.”

“But you need to get used to hearing it.” He grinned.

Her eyebrows pinched in a beautiful downward slope. “If my patient didn’t need this blanket, Wellington, I’d be tempted to smother you with it.”

His grin widened. “You definitely inherited your grandfather’s temper.”

“I can’t imagine him ever being angry with you. You seem the best of friends.”

There was no missing the sour tone that pickled her words.

“He hasn’t been angry with me for twenty years anyway.” Mitch chuckled, recalling the first time he met Lem, who dragged Mitch across a field by his ear for stealing corn. Made him work it off, too. Lem and that cornfield had been the best things to ever happen to Mitch. “But I have seen him come unhinged at a broken-down tractor or two.”

She giggled. “He still kick tires when they break down?”

“Still does.”