Haunted By Her Dragon (The Dragon Guard Series) (2 page)

“I
know you do, Sweetheart, but today we need to get that sick appendix out so you
feel better.”

“Can’t
you just give me some medicine? I really don’t want to have an operation.”

Before
Sam could answer, Miss Crutchfield’s monotone voice sounded, causing her fists
to clench in an effort to keep from striking the useless woman. “Sydney, just
do what the doctor says. Don’t make trouble,” and then the woman had the
audacity to sigh.

Without
a second thought, Sam reached across and grabbed the cell phone from the social
worker’s hands. When she looked up to complain, Miss Crutchfield’s face lost
all color. Sam could only imagine the expression she wore, but was too pissed
off to give a shit. The woman was supposed to be
caring
for the sweet
child, easing her fear at having surgery, being Sydney’s support system, not
sitting like a high school girl obsessed with her cell phone. She leaned down
so that they were eye to eye, “Miss Crutchfield, my name is Dr. Malone. Now,
you can either be part of the solution or part of the problem. If you would
like to remain in this room, you will need to be part of the solution. If you
would like to continue to completely ignore the child that needs your
attention, then I suggest you go to the cafeteria and get a cup of coffee while
we finish up Sydney’s pre-op visit.” Miss Crutchfield’s face immediately turned
three shades of red and without a word. She shot from her chair, took her phone
from Sam’s outstretched hand, and marched out of the room.

The
cutest little giggle came from behind her and immediately calmed her temper.
When she looked, Sydney had both of her pudgy little hands covering her mouth
while her shoulders bounced with laughter. Just to see the child laughing, no
matter how inappropriate, made all the frustration with the useless State
employee worthwhile and let her know that, at least the child wasn’t having too
much pain at the moment. It would not do to have her suffering. Smiling while
holding back her own laughter, she said, “You think that was funny, do
you?”  Little blonde curls bounced as Sydney nodded. “Well, it was between
two adults,” Sam leveled her stare just a bit. “Always remember
your
manners.”

“Yes,
Dr. Sam,” the child answered, still giggling.

Letting
the subject drop, Sam moved on, “Okay, Miss Sydney, I’m going to show you
exactly what will happen during your surgery and answer any questions you may
have. Then Dr. Schwartz will be in to give you some medicine that’ll make you
sleepy. Sound good to you?”

“Yes,
ma’am.”
The child smiled, and all the long hours seemed
worth it just to know that she could help people that truly needed it. Once she
finished her surgical residency, she wanted to be a General Practitioner where
children and the elderly were the focus of her practice, no matter where she
ended up. Charlie, officially known as Dr. Charlene Gallagher had teased her
from the moment they declared the specialties in med school about her ‘opposite
ends of the spectrum’ focus. That was not the only ribbing she took but at
least at school Charlie had to bear it, too. Their classmates had really had a
blast with the fact that Sam and Charlie were roommates and best friends, ‘the
girls with boys’ names’.

After
about fifteen minutes of explaining, complete with a stuffed, cloth appendix,
colored Expo markers, and a mini white board, Sydney seemed completely at ease.
Sam stayed when the anesthesiologist came in. As her little patient started to
yawn, she explained one more time, told the little sweetheart she would see her
in a few minutes, and headed to scrub up. She hurried down the hall,
remembering the way Sydney had smiled up at her, so trusting and loving. That
one little smile made all the long hours and millions of cups of coffee worth
it. Affirmation that her decision to stay had been the right one came when she
entered the Surgical Scrub Room and was confronted by Dr.
Monoghan
and the other three huge, male surgeons from his team. She knew she would never
be considered a ‘little girl’. She was a tall, curvy girl and damn proud of it,
but she felt almost dainty standing next to the behemoths presently scrubbing
in.

Looking
through the viewing window, she saw the doors across the large expanse of the
operating room open. In came one of her favorite orderlies, Adam, wheeling her
young patient into the huge, instrument-filled room. Adam was the best with
their pediatric patients, and rightfully so, since he and his wife were working
on their own NBA team with 3 little boys under the age of six, their first baby
girl on the way, and already talking about more. She thought they were crazy,
but they were good parents and
that
was what was important. Hurriedly,
she put on her gown and gloves then made her way to the operating room to
reassure Sydney one last time before they started the countdown.

Sydney
smiled up at her, “Hi, Dr. Sam” she said, half chuckling, half slurring her
words. The child was responding well to the anesthesia. Some kids fought it and
made the process horrible for all involved, but Little Blondie seemed to be
able to adapt to almost anything life threw at her. Smiling down at the sweet
child, Sam signaled the anesthesiologist that he could begin. Time seemed to
fly, and thankfully, everything went smoothly. In less than two hours the young
patient was being wheeled to the recovery room.

She
stayed with Sydney until the child was awake in her room and having the first
of what the doctor was sure would be many, red Jell-O cups. All the nurses had
loved the child on sight and laughed as she made sure to tell everyone that she
only ate
red
Jell-O cups, none of the other “yucky” colors. As Sam was
leaving, Sydney called out, “Dr. Sam, I didn’t get a hug.”

Choking
past the lump in her throat, she turned. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Sweetheart.”

Walking
the few steps back to the bed, she was immediately engulfed in the best hug
she’d had in a long time. When she pulled back, Sydney was smiling ear to ear.
The resilience of children had always seemed so amazing to the doctor. Only a
few hours ago this sweet little child had been in surgery, and now she was
eating red Jell-O and hugging like a bear cub. 

“Now,
you be good, and I’ll be back to check on you in the next day or two.” She
tweaked the little beauty’s button nose.

“Yes,
ma’am, Dr. Sam.”

Sam
was about halfway across the parking lot before she realized her surgical cap
was still on her head. As she pulled it off and shoved it in the huge brown
messenger bag she had used since her freshman year in college, her long, thick,
braid fell from under the cap and took its place in the center of her back.
Laughing to herself, she realized her curly brown mane had been in a braid damn
near every day from the first day of her internship almost seven years ago, and
even weirder, was the fact that it was a comfort to feel it against her back.
At least that intricate design allowed her to keep the one thing she had in common
with her mother
and
follow the rules of the hospital.

Leaving
the hospital and the stress of a very long day farther behind with every step,
she pulled the end of her braid to the front, removed the ponytail holder, and
began unbraiding and finger combing out the tangles as she went. As each of the
strands separated, more of the tension from the last thirty hours also
untangled and floated away. Somehow, letting her hair blow in the breeze was
just what the doctor had ordered. She knew by the time she reached her car that
it would be curling in every direction and that she would resemble some wild
child, fresh out of the woods. Breathing deeply, she inhaled and blew out all
the antiseptic smells of the hospital. She finally had two days off
together,
and doing whatever the hell she wanted for the next forty-eight, no, forty-two
hours was on the top of her list. There was no regret at all about losing those
six hours; Sydney had been so worth it. It was her job to help a child and she
would do it again in a heartbeat.
Hell
, she might even sneak back
tomorrow just to check on the child. After all, she
had
told the little
darling she would see her in the next day or two. Sydney reminded her of all
the kids she had met when fate saw fit for her to be in foster care. She had
been one of the lucky ones. It had taken some time, but she had been placed
with a great foster mom, and every day her tragedies from the past were a
little easier to deal with. Too tired for a trip down memory lane, she focused
on just getting to her car.

Reaching
into the pocket of her scrubs for her keys, the sensation of being watched
raised the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck. Not in a creepy, stalker kind of
way, but in a protected, almost special kind of way. As crazy as it seemed, she
was filled with anticipation and excitement. It was reassuring that
he
was still watching over her. The feeling of being watched had started after she
had been kidnapped from the very parking lot she now stood in, and was carried
off to the middle of nowhere almost seven months ago. It had definitely been
one of the most terrifying experiences of her life. One she would never forget,
but not one she would not let rule her life either. It was true she had been
fighting for her life that day, but there was no way in hell she would be a
victim. Nothing, not even bad memories or bullies that preyed on women, could
beat her. She still walked to her car by herself, politely avoiding the
security guards that she knew had been told to watch out for her, to remind
herself and others that she would
not
live in fear. 

Everyone
had her best interests at heart, she truly believed that. The hospital mandated
psychiatrist had recommended she get a roommate to avoid spending time alone
after her abduction, but there was no way that was going to happen. Memories of
overcrowded rooms at overcrowded group homes, where she could feel the breath
of the girl next to her while they slept, reminded her that she needed her
space.

The
day she had left Momma
Maybelle’s
(the best foster
mom in the world) for college, she had promised herself that ‘things’ did not
matter, but that she
would
have the privacy she had so desperately
needed for so many years. So, she had worked long and hard and saved every penny
she could, and just two years ago had purchased her own home, her own little
oasis, away from everyone and everything, where she could sleep crossways on
her bed until noon if she wanted. She stopped dead in her tracks.
“I sound
like a spoiled brat,”
she mused. Her next thought caused her to chuckle. “
Okay,
maybe I would share with someone
.” And
the
someone
that came to mind was a big, muscular, hunk of a man with the most hypnotic
eyes she had ever seen, blonde spiky hair, and a deep rumbling voice.
Oh hell
yeah
, she would share so very many things with him.

Shaking
her head in an attempt to restore what little sanity she had left, she
continued walking and thought more about how it was like she had a guardian
angel, someone that watched over her, kept her safe,
protected
her. She
snorted out loud, “No, not an angel.” The man that seemed to consume her
thoughts more with every passing day, could in no way be associated with the
pink-cheeked, little cherubs the word ‘angel’ brought to mind. He was a
Guardian
,
big and masculine and….just…
wow
. She knew with all certainty that it was
him, no matter how it seemed, even to her. The hottest man on the planet, with
an insurmountable strength, a power that had seeped into her very bones the day
they met, and a body that awakened dreams of hot, sweaty nights and amazing
passion. He had made her feel safe during one of the most terrifying ordeals of
her life, and with the kind of life she had lived since that fateful day all
those years ago, that was really saying something. Just his presence made her
feel,
no,
made her
know
,
everything was
going to be alright. A totally new sensation for her, one she couldn’t remember
ever feeling before. He was different than any other man she had ever met. She
really couldn’t explain it, not even to herself. The best description she had
come up with was that he was just…
more
. His touch had infused her with
warmth and security. It felt…
right
, not strange or foreign, but like it
was meant to be.

Sam
knew that he had somehow helped her recover and was a big part of why she had
gotten back to work as quickly as she had. She was strong and had a
determination to accomplish anything she put her mind to, but the trauma of
that day had threatened to weaken her incredible resolve, and then, there he
was. He had lifted her from the rubble and pieces of her world had fallen into
place. Pieces she hadn’t known were missing. At least two of the other girls
that had been abducted at the same time were still in therapy. From time to
time, she checked on them. They had all been brought to her hospital,
therefore, accessing their records and keeping track of them was simple. When
her friend, Charlie, had seen her reading their charts, she had smiled and
walked away. They all knew how she felt about bullies and as far as she was
concerned, the scumbags that had kidnapped them had been the
worst
kind
of bullies.

Sam
prided herself on her inner strength, something she inherited from her father,
or so she had been told. It had rubbed her the wrong way when the hospital
administration decreed that she have six sessions with the hospital
psychiatrist. She had adamantly refused until they’d played hardball and
refused to let her back to work until the evaluation was complete. Doing the
six sessions had been tedious and boring, but she had given all the right
answers, and once it was complete, there was no way in hell she was doing any
more, even though it was obvious that Dr. Simons wanted her to. He often
stopped by under the guise of checking on another patient or looking for the
Head of Surgery, but Sam wasn’t an idiot. It was obvious to her and her
co-workers that he was checking on her. Not wanting to draw any more attention
to the situation, she always smiled and gave the obligatory answers, while
inside she was screaming to be left alone. He had resorted to asking about the
cut on her leg when he could tell she was trying to get away. Donning her best
smile, she would tell him it had healed nicely with a minimum of scarring. Why
wouldn’t he realize there was no reason to rehash the gory details? It was
over, she had survived, and now it was time to move on. That was how Dr.
Samantha Malone dealt with things. Her continued prayer was that sooner or
later, he would find another ‘project’ and leave her alone.