The Nurse's Brooding Boss

When he’d entered medical school, he’d buried his guilt and poured his energies into his studies. He ’d graduated top of his class, but he couldn’t have cared less.

He’d been determined to save lives. It was the only way he could live with himself.

Brock took a ten-minute break, checking his phone for voice mail messages, surprised to find a message from Lacey. She’d sounded upset, crying again, as she’d begged him to call her back.

Glancing at his watch, he realized she’d called almost thirty minutes ago. Wincing at the delay, he quickly dialed her number, hoping she hadn’t gotten bad news regarding Tucker’s health.

“Lacey? It’s Brock. What’s wrong?”

“Oh, Brock, I don’t know what to do. Joel’s gone,” Lacey said between hiccupping sobs.

Brock frowned. “What do you mean, he’s gone? Gone to work? Is there something wrong with Tucker?”

“I took Tucker to the clinic, like you said. They did some tests, gave me medicine for him and told me to use different formula because he probably has colic. When I came home, I thought Joel was at work, but a couple of hours ago, they called here looking for him.”

A warning chill snaked down his back. Joel couldn’t have taken off, could he? Surely he wouldn’t risk losing his job, not when he had a baby to support. “Okay, don’t panic,” he said soothingly, hiding the depth of his concern. “I know Joel has been having a tough time lately. He probably just needed a little break. He’s likely having a drink or two with a couple of his buddies.”

“That’s what I thought too, at first,” Lacey said. “But I’ve called all his friends—no one has seen him all day. I even went to the bowling alley, his favorite hangout, but he hasn’t been there either. I’m scared, Brock. What am I going to do if he’s gone for good?”

Elana swiped out at the end of her shift and then glanced around, searching for Brock. He’d promised to meet her in the staff lounge after work, but it was possible he was still finishing up. The physicians couldn’t leave until they were assured all the patients were safe. The handover of care was easier for the nurses, though, since there were more nurses assigned per shift than doctors.

Nervous, she swiped her damp palms on the sides of her scrubs. A brief conversation with Brock shouldn’t cause an anxiety attack. Especially since this talk wasn’t remotely personal. This was about Lacey. The young mother and her son hadn’t been far from her thoughts all evening.

“Do you want to walk out to the parking lot together?” Raine asked.

“Nah, go ahead without me. I have a few things I have to do yet,” Elana hedged, avoiding direct eye contact with her closest friend.

“Like what?” Raine demanded, oblivious to Elana’s subtle hint. “You’ve swiped out, haven’t you? What else is there to do? It’s not like you can make phone calls or run errands at eleven-thirty at night.”

Elana suppressed a sigh. “There was a patient at the clinic today that has me worried. I need a few minutes to run the issue past Brock, that’s all.”

“Oh. I see.” Elana didn’t appreciate the knowing glint in Raine’s eye. “I’m sure Brock will be more than happy to help you out.”

“It’s not like that, Raine,” she snapped. “This isn’t a personal issue. I barely know the man.”

Raine arched one brow in disbelief. “Sure, Elana. Whatever you say. Heck, I think it’s great you’re talking to him. That means you’re giving him a chance. Hey, maybe you can get him to volunteer a few shifts a month at the clinic too.”

Oh, no. Absolutely not. No way was she asking Brock to volunteer at the clinic. Working with him in the emergency department was bad enough. The clinic was her refuge. She didn’t want him anywhere near the place.

After Raine had finally left, she let out a sigh of relief and plopped into a chair to wait for Brock. She’d give him another five minutes before she went searching for him. She was tired and didn’t have all night.

Yet she refused to leave without telling him her concerns about Lacey.

When he finally came in, he looked terrible. He wasn’t smiling, his face drawn into harsh lines. He looked about as exhausted as she felt.

For a minute she wavered. Maybe this wasn’t exactly the time to dump her concerns on him.

But just as quickly she stiffened her resolve. This wasn’t about Brock; he could take care of himself. Tucker was the vulnerable one. Not that Lacey was an awful mother, but she was definitely struggling.

“Hi, Elana. Sorry I’m late,” Brock said with a forced smile.

“No problem. It was a rough night for everyone, I think.” Making small talk with Brock felt weird. Truthfully, until the day they’d worked together in the trauma room, they hadn’t exchanged more than half a dozen words to each other, and none of them pleasant or friendly. At least on her part.

A hint of embarrassment crept under her skin when she remembered how she’d lashed out at him all those years ago at Felicity’s funeral. She pushed the memories of the past aside.

She cleared her throat, swiping her hands on her scrubs again. “I’m sorry to bother you, but there’s a problem I think you need to know about.”

His dark brows pulled together in a frown. “A problem?”

“Yes. I volunteer at the New Beginnings Clinic down in the low-income district. Earlier today, a very distraught young woman brought in her colicky baby to be evaluated by the doctor.”

Brock’s spine straightened, and the expression on his face became noncommittal. “Lacey and Tucker.”

She was surprised he’d guessed, but that only made it easier to speak her mind. “Yes. You need to know I’m really concerned about them. Especially Lacey.”

“Why? Because there was something wrong with Tucker? She’s not hurting him or anything is she?” Brock asked in a rush.

“No! No, it’s not that.” Although she could understand why he might jump to that conclusion. Working in the ED, they sometimes saw cases of child abuse. “Tucker has a bad case of colic, but she was making it worse by giving him different kinds of formula. I helped her switch him over to a soy-based product and gave her some anti-gas medication for him. But your brother, the baby’s father, didn’t come to the appointment with her.”

Brock’s shoulders slumped with apparent relief that abuse wasn’t the issue. “Yeah, I’m not surprised,” he muttered.

He was being far to blasée about the entire situation. She leaned forward, willing him to understand. “Listen to me. I noticed several small cuts on Lacey’s arm. She covered them up right away, but I didn’t imagine them. She’s not coping very well with motherhood. I think she might be cutting herself, purposefully inflicting pain.”

“What?” Brock stared at her in disbelief. “Are you telling me she’s suicidal?”

Elana didn’t want to have this conversation, she really didn’t. But hadn’t she learned the hard way how ignoring a problem only made it worse? “Young adults who are known to be cutters aren’t suicidal per se, but it is a sign of being unable to cope. They cut themselves because it’s one area of their life they can actually control. And cutting themselves seems to help relieve guilt, in a bizarre way.”

“You sound like you’re familiar with this affliction,” Brock said, his gaze intense.

She swallowed hard. She knew far more than she wanted to about kids who used harmful ways to cope. Been there and done that.

And it was all Brock’s fault.

For a moment darkness threatened. She pushed the sensation away. “I know a little about it.”

“I see.” He stared at her, a flash of real regret intermixed with guilt shadowing his eyes. Could it be that the accident had affected him more than she realized?

Disturbed by the possibility, she stared down at her hands. Had Brock really suffered too? Maybe, but so what? He’d been able to walk away. She hadn’t. Besides, she needed to focus on the issue at hand.

Lacey and Tucker.

“Brock, you need to make your brother understand how his son needs him. Joel and Lacey should take a parenting class; there are resources to help them.” She silently pleaded with him to take her advice seriously. “I honestly don’t think Lacey is stable enough, or capable enough to raise Tucker alone.”