The Doctor's Devotion (Love Inspired) (12 page)

“I don’t whirl yours,” he said wryly. Then peered at her with an almost-vulnerable expression before refocusing ahead. His breakup must’ve shattered his self-esteem.

She cleared her throat and hauled up courage. “That’s because I’m walking alongside you, going the same direction. If I were passing you, trust me, my head would whirl. But don’t get all egotistical about it.”

That almost wrought a smile. “Lem says it’s been a while since your breakup. He thinks you’ve been too busy hiding behind Texas sewing machines to socialize or date.” He bumped her elbow, but left his arm in contact with hers while they walked.

She did not know what to think, so she just rolled with the lovely flow. Plus hid an impending blush by heaping mass amounts of dark chocolate in the cart. And a yogurt.

Mitch eyed her goodies and grinned gorgeously down at her. Finally. Relief spread through her. He wasn’t still mad at her insensitivity before.

Even better, he settled his arm against hers again after she broke contact to retrieve items from shelves.

Once they had their items in their cart, plus things from a list that looked like Grandpa’s, they headed to the check-out.

“He hates shopping,” Mitch said as she eyed the familiar scratchy scrawl of half cursive, half print, slanted up the page.

She nodded, feeling heartsick for unrecognizable reasons. “He still does, huh?”

“Yeah. Although he’s capable, he’d rather delegate it.” Mitch spoke more tenderly than the words required. He was obviously acutely aware of her fear regarding Grandpa.

She dug out her wallet. “My treat,” he countered. She attempted to protest, but he squared wide shoulders and issued his
this is doctor’s orders
look.

“Thanks.” Her laugh made his eyes sparkle. “How embarrassing that I filled the cart with chocolate!”

“That’s okay. I fully expect you to share. It’s my master plan to sweeten you up.” He had a decidedly handsome smirk.

She pressed hands to her hips as they exited. “Sweetened? Why? What are you conniving?”

He raised his hands innocently, but grinned wildly. “I’m batting around the idea of giving Lem a surprise party since his birthday is in a few months,” Mitch said once they were back on the road.

“Great idea,” she forced. While she was grateful Mitch was mindful of Lem, she should have thought of it first.

“You know he’s restoring the old truck he has, right?” Mitch asked once they pulled into Lem’s driveway.

“Surprisingly, yes.” Why had he asked, anyway?

“Lauren, sorry. I didn’t mean it as an insult.”

“I know. You’re good for me, Mitch. And as envious as I am of the closeness you share with Grandpa, I’m thankful you’re in his life. I’d never want you not to be.” She gritted her teeth.

Mitch paused in the driveway. “But?”

She shook her head, unable to finish yet. She hugged her ribs, heaving emotion for everything she’d forfeited in the past five years. Every lost minute with Grandpa. And for what? “I’m scared of losing him and scarred with regret that I let time go by without seeing him more,” she managed to say until her voice fractured.

She wasn’t prepared for how fast Mitch moved or how strong and safe and warm his arms felt as they curled around her and pulled her firmly in. “You haven’t failed him, Lauren.”

She swallowed against his chest. “I hope you’re right.”

“You get up early just to spend the sunrise with him every morning, then fish for hours before breakfast. You have talk time every evening. I know because he tells me everything. He wanted you in nursing school. It brought him joy.”

“That makes me feel worse for quitting, then.”

“It’s not too late, Lauren. Do you miss it?”

She nodded. “A lot. I love nursing.”

“Then stay.”

“That’s what Grandpa says.”

But the vulnerability in Mitch’s eyes extended past asking her to stay for Lem’s sake.

Lauren broke off the embrace because the last thing she needed to do was grow dependant on Mitch…and because it felt far too wonderful to take refuge in him.

In fact, his arms felt more like home that moment than Texas.

Chapter Thirteen

“P
erfect,” Mitch said to Lauren on the Saturday morning of the chili cookout. He enjoyed the graceful way her hands moved as she sprinkled garlic into his stockpot.

“Let’s see.” She passed him a ladle the way she did instruments in surgery. Did she realize how naturally they worked together? “I find this interesting.”

“What?” He stirred the spices in with the peppers stewing in the chunky sauce.

“All this.” She gestured to Mitch’s pot, then across the yard to Lem’s. Her smile wattage could light up the yard.

Mitch turned the heat down and eyed Lem, manning a separate simmering pot. “That we have chili cook-offs?”

“Not that, per se. Just the fact that you’re making it your life’s mission to recreate his recipe when he won’t give it up.”

“True. Lem’s like the ultimate vault when it comes to that recipe.” Mitch smirked playfully.

She aimed a spatula at him the way Lem often did. “Don’t you dare tell me he gave his coveted secret recipe to you, buster.”

Mitch laughed. “Hardly. I’ve tried for years to replicate it, to no avail. No one makes chili better than Lem.”

“You could always try to search his house and steal it.”

That made Mitch laugh. “I hope you’re kidding.” The fiercely determined look on her face made him think she wasn’t.

She tasted a spoonful of Mitch’s chili. “You’re getting close. It nearly tastes like his. Although I need another bite to be sure.” She poured a ladleful into a tin cup then blew on it.

Mitch leaned. “Your sampling will leave none for guests.”

She shrugged and grinned past the tin cup he’d sipped many slop soups from while stationed overseas as a combat surgeon. “Warn me if you plan to fire me as your official taste-tester.”

“Ha! You’d just sneak over there and sample his.” Mitch nodded toward Lem, hovered protectively over his chili pot.

“Probably so.” She giggled, then looked up at Mitch in an admiring way that made his insides feel all warm and bubbly. Like the chili sauce. “Don’t you know any military interrogation techniques we could use on him to uncover the ingredients?”

Mitch laughed. He really liked engaging her in lively conversation, and even the camaraderie of having her at his side. In the operating room and here, in a domestic setting.
Domestic
.

The word prickled over him. Perhaps they were getting a wee bit too cozy. Or maybe he should just give in to the attraction and court her instead of expending all this energy fleeing from it.

He took a smart step back.

Probably not his most healthy coping mechanism, but that was how things had to be for the time being.

Too risky otherwise. Too much to overcome. For the first time, though, fighting off his growing feelings felt less appealing than contemplating courting her.

He needed a distraction. “Tell me something I might not know about you and Lem.”

“Right. Like that’s possible.” She smirked.

“Seriously. Try me.”

“He started cook-offs in my honor.” A nostalgic look piggybacked Lauren’s words. “Chili was always my favorite meal.”

“Was?” He bumped her shoulder. “Don’t talk like it’s past tense. It’s not too late. You’ll be around from now on.”

She shielded her eyes from the sun and peered up at him in a feeble way that made him hope he was right. “How do you know?”

He captured her gaze and held it firmly. “Because I know.”

Emotions began pulling at all corners of his heart the same time cars began pulling up in the driveway, ending the conversation. And hopefully the good way she was making him feel right now.

Yet for a moment Lauren didn’t take her eyes off him. Just studied him like a researcher staring into a microscope.

Until meeting Lauren, he’d been sure his heart had been irrevocably broken. But now, he got to thinking maybe his heart was whole again.

Thankfully a slew of cars quickly ran over any crazy thoughts of romance. He could never let himself forget that miles and distance were the masterminds behind a busted heart and broken engagement.

One look at Lauren’s face, and he knew her smile was capable of saving it. Which put him at risk of love and loss again.

He wasn’t ready.

And she was worth more effort than he was capable of giving right now.

Plus, all his energy needed to be poured into the trauma center and the details involved.

“Come meet my friends,” Mitch said in an agitated tone, even to his own ears.

Her eyes widened as she looked up, so she had noticed.

He turned the burner off with a finality that sent dread through him at the thought of hurting her.

Were their hearts already becoming invested in each other?

Stiffly, they walked together until joining Lem, headed to meet the cars as people exited, bearing smiles and scrumptious-smelling side dishes.

“Lauren, this is my pararescue buddy Nolan. He’s married to Mandy, also known as Dr. Briggs, who you met at the center,” Mitch said.

She nodded. “Nice to meet you, Nolan.”

“And you remember me telling you about Brock?” Mitch indicated the friend who’d helped with Grandpa’s repairs.

The PJ, a heavily muscled military guy whose height rivaled Mitch’s, stepped forth and shook her hand. “Nice to finally meet you after hearing so much about you. Keeping this guy in line, I hope.” Brock nodded to Mitch, who watched Lauren carefully.

Sure enough, as the implications of Brock’s innocent words sank in, Lauren blushed.

Obviously Brock’s words gave away that Mitch had mentioned her to his friends. Which meant, whether he was ready to admit it or not, she was becoming important to him.

As though picking up on it, her grin exploded out of nowhere. His face burned. A blush? Or chili he’d managed to hijack from her spoon?

Mandy faced Lauren. “Mitch tells me you help at the center.”

“Some. Thanks for your help there, too, Dr. Briggs.”

The woman smiled. “You, as well. And it’s Mandy.”

More people, some who’d also helped at the trauma center, arrived. Townspeople scuttled about, doting over Lauren and how grown-up she looked. Some she appeared to recognize, some not.

Mitch derived simple joy out of watching her interact with the range of people. “Lauren, you have uncanny warmth and a gift to be approachable by all. I like that about you.”

She dipped her head and didn’t say anything for a moment. Then she shifted to peer up at him. “Thanks. I’m glad to know there’s one thing you like about me.”

She had no idea. Neither did he until the moment those words left her mouth.

There was a lot he liked about her. More and more things in fact.

“Let’s eat!” Lem exclaimed. “Mitch? Do the honors?”

Mitch relaxed and thought about what to pray for.

What was he most thankful for today?

“Lord, thanks for bringing Lauren home. For time with Lem. Bless the food and Lem for his hospitality. Help him stop being stingy with that chili recipe. Amen,” Mitch finished amid chuckles.

Lem’s was loudest as he clapped a weathered hand on Mitch’s shoulder. “Nice try, son. God’s the only one who could convince me to hand over that recipe before it’s time.”

Wow. Mitch noticed Lauren didn’t flinch when Lem called him “son.” When did that change of heart happen?

“And when will it be time, Grandpa?” Lauren licked a spoon and appeared to let Grandpa’s mystery chili languish on her tongue.

Lem grinned. “At the readin’ of my will.”

“Grandpa, don’t say that! I’d rather have you than your chili.” Lauren became visibly upset, which wiped the smile off Lem’s face.

Mitch had noticed a tear in her eye at the end of his prayer and felt her lift her face when he’d taken care to mention her in it. He’d meant every word. Minus the chili part.

Like Lauren, he’d rather have Lem around than the best chili in the world. Mitch cast a warm smile her way. One that intentionally lingered. He dipped his head toward the food. “Chili’s ready. Shall we?”

“We shall.” Her smile lingered, too. “In fact, I think second helpings are going to be in order.”

Mitch had the strongest urge to tuck his arm through hers while they walked and talked together. “I like how you think—”

His emergency beeper went off, interrupting his words.

Ian’s phone rang. So did Kate’s, who’d just added a delicious-looking green bean casserole to the table.

The trauma crew eyed one another, then looked apologetically at Lem. All conversation stopped as they returned calls.

Lauren bit her lip and watched Lem for signs of disappointment, as did Mitch.

Thankfully, Lem seemed to roll with the punches and didn’t appear upset at all.

Not even when, after taking the hectic caller’s report, Mitch clicked his phone shut and set down his uneaten chili. “I’m sorry, Lem. There’s been a trauma alert. They’re calling us all in.”

Lem shooed them toward their cars. “Go on then. Food’ll be waiting when you take care of business and get back here.”

Mitch couldn’t describe the disappointment he felt when he walked away from Lem’s yard, and Lauren didn’t come forward to offer to join his team.

He’d dearly wanted her to step up on her own this time instead of him having to ask.

Granted, she volunteered if she were assured the situation was low risk. He understood why she was skittish. Especially with the complicated cases.

The problem with that was, in trauma care, one couldn’t choose. You took what came in, and therefore he needed her either all-in or all-out.

How much longer could he wait for her to jump all-in? Would she ever?

He desperately needed to know he wasn’t wasting his time.

Chapter Fourteen

“I’
m sorry, Grandpa. You went to all this trouble,” Lauren said the next afternoon as she stared into Lem’s overloaded fridge.

“Searching for dark chocolate?” Lem peered beside Lauren.

“Yep. But all I see is chili.” Unfortunately the team had been unable to return yesterday. “There’s a ton of food left.”

Lem reached in and pulled out a chocolate bar. “Oh, piffle. We have noon cookouts every Saturday. Leftovers go to needy folks. We eat chili once a month.” He handed her the candy bar.

She broke it and tried to give Grandpa the bigger half. “You do? I’m glad you stay social.”

Lem went for the smaller portion. “Try to. Don’t much like being alone all the time.” He scratched his head and seemed confused for a second. Cleared his throat and looked away. Then cleared his throat again.

She peered at him. “Grandpa? Are you crying?”

His face squished up, but when she went around to face him, tears definitely pooled in his eyes. He cleared his throat again. “Ah, just my allergies botherin’ me.”

No. Those were unmistakable tears. And that was undeniable loneliness hovering in his eyes next to the tears.

She couldn’t leave him alone anymore. How dare she?

Yet her life was in Texas. The binding weight of her verbal agreement and the huge loan she’d taken out suddenly sat on her like the issuing bank’s three-ton armored truck.

She wrapped arms around him despite his bristle at her doting. “Grandpa, I’ve made many wrong choices the past five years.”
Like every time I didn’t come visit when you asked.
“But I promise to make those wrong things right and redeem the time.”

He hugged her back, seeming stronger than moments before. “Ah, now. Don’t go rearranging your life for me.”

“Grandpa.” She set her candy aside and put her hands square on his shoulders. “You
are
my life.”
Starting now.

Building loan or not. She’d somehow make it work. She’d learn to love flying. She could visit often that way.

Yet somehow the thought of only visiting Grandpa depressed her. “I want to move here, Grandpa. Let’s hope it works out.”

He blinked back emotion then swiped a hand, equally strong and wrinkled, over his eyes. “Don’t go all sentimental on me.” He draped an arm around her, and for once in a long while seemed to hold her up instead of the other way around.

Perhaps her visit, and the promise of her being around more, restored some of Grandpa’s strength?

“Tell ya what, carrottop. What say me and you go for a drive? Deliver us some chili to a few hungry folks at the trauma center. They must be starving.”

“Surely they’ve eaten.”

“Doubtful. Mitch texted to say he wouldn’t make it to breakfast, and in fact probably won’t be able to leave all day. They’ve been going nonstop since lunch yesterday.”

“Trauma patients?”

“Yep. And Mitch pulling double duty securing staff. I told him we’d pray. But let’s put feet on those prayers and take lunch over, too?”

She grinned. “How do you propose we get there? By tractor?”

He smiled. “I got my old truck in the shed. We’ll take it.”

“I was looking forward to a ride on Old Faithful or Deere John. Those are the other tractors you still have, right?”

“Yeah, the pair of them plus Bess the Beast, and Clyde, my one-of-a-kind combine.”

“I admit that breakfast this morning wasn’t as fun with Mitch’s empty chair staring dismally at us.”

For the first time ever, Lauren
really
missed Mitch not being at Grandpa’s. Even digging in to the chocolate bar didn’t make it better. Not that she’d tell him so.

But according to Grandpa’s grin, he might. “Don’t tell.”

His face went ultra-innocent. He shuffled outside faster than she could catch him. “Grandpa, I mean it.”

Effectively ignoring her, Lem opened the barn door, surprising Lauren with the superb shape his antique Ford was in. “Mitch’s been helping me restore it. We’re supposed to pinstripe and paint it this week. You ought to help us.”

“Be glad to. Then maybe I can borrow it to go see Mara, and Mitch won’t have to drive me back and forth.”

“He likes giving you rides. Gives him time to talk to you.”

“How do you know?”

“He told me so. But you can drive the truck when it’s ready, if you insist.” He smiled like he had a big secret.

She set the chili pot in the floorboard and went to help Grandpa in, but he scowled at her. “You quit that. No lady should open a door for a man.” He prodded her around to the driver’s side, then, hand to elbow, helped her up instead. “Say, does Mitch open doors for you?”

Smiling, she started the ignition, which purred. “Always.”

“Good. I taught him well, then.”

She’d have to agree with Grandpa. Mitch had superb manners.

“Grandpa, after we drop off the food, will you tell me about Mitch on the drive home?” Lauren should probably be concerned that she was curious where Mitch was involved. But she just couldn’t be this time. And she had no idea whether that was good or bad.

Lem buckled up his seat belt. “What do you want to know?”

“Ummmm…pretty much everything there is?”

“For starters, huh?” Grandpa sniggered on and off about this the entire trip to the trauma center. Once there, he opened the door before she had the truck fully parked.

“Hang on to your horses.” She shook her head at his sudden lithe movement and the surge of energy boosting him up and out.

He swung his head around. “Chili’s getting cold. C’mon. No. Wait. You sit.” He scurried around to open her door. He took the chili from her and slid a sidelong look. “I might be getting old and decrepit, but I can still open doors for a lady and bring a pot of food to the hungry.”

She nodded accordingly. “You certainly can.” She followed him in, opening doors for him and ignoring his scolding look when she did so. The nurses’ station was dead silent, other than phones ringing incessantly.

“Should I answer that?” She eyed the trilling phone. Call lights flashed like carnival lights along the corridors, too.

Where was everyone? She peered down the halls. Her heart rate sped. Every operating room was full of flurry and people.

She rushed back to the desk and picked up the phone. “Eagle Point Trauma Center. May I help you?” Lauren poised a pen to jot notes, but the caller’s words spilled too frantically for understanding. Something about 9–1–1. Signal was poor. She scrambled to string every third word together. “Ma’am, what did 9–1–1 tell you?”

“I couldn’t…through! My cousin fell…bluff! He’s hurt! We need help! We…help!” Expletives and sobbing came next.

Lauren stood. Signaled Lem. “Grandpa, get 9–1–1 on another phone?”

He did as asked and Lauren relayed the information and location to the dispatcher. She hung up, feeling frazzled and inept, yet as though her nerves were juiced for action. “Apparently a nearby hiker fell pretty far.” She scooped up the paper and ran to find someone, anyone, to let them know the ambulance would probably come here with the hiker.

She poked her head in the first O.R. Ian observed her, then pointed to his mask. Mortified at her break in sterile technique, she scuttled backward, slammed the O.R. door and smashed a mask to her face before opening the door again. “We came to drop off chili. Grandpa’s manning phones and calling reinforcements,” she said, explaining to Ian first why she was here.

“Thanks. That all?” Ian eyed her carefully.

“No. There was a call of a fallen hiker nearby. I imagine they’ll bring him here rather than Refuge.”

Ian nodded. “Do me a favor, let Mitch know? He’s in O.R. Three.”

“Will do.” Lauren really hadn’t wanted Mitch to know she was here. Because then he’d probably order her to help.

To her surprise, he didn’t. When she explained the situation, he simply nodded and thanked her. How odd.

Probably for the best. Otherwise Grandpa’d be stuck here.

Grandpa updated her about the ambulance service call.

Mitch came out and washed up. “Any other info?”

Lauren brushed hair from her eyes. “The ambulance service asked permission to come. We told them yes. Hope that’s okay.”

Mitch eyed the rooms. “Yeah, we’re about done here. We’ll get this one moved out then ready the room in case the hiker needs exploratory.”

We. By that, did he mean her? Or just his crew? He didn’t say, just pressed a mask back over his mouth and reentered the O.R. suite, presumably to give the crew an update that another patient was on the way.

Did Mitch want her help? He hadn’t directly asked. She went back to the desk and found Grandpa, relieved that Nita now manned the phones.

Had she been thrust into answering call lights? She had less training than Lauren. Poor Nita!

“We may as well put the chili in the fridge,” Nita said to Grandpa. “Doesn’t look like we’ll have time to eat anytime soon.”

Lauren nibbled her lip.

Lem eyed her pointedly. “They’re busier than that angry hornets’ nest I knocked down last week.”

Lauren’s gaze turned toward the O.R. bays. And the blinking call lights going unanswered. Nita rushed off to answer them. Her face was so flushed, Lauren grew concerned. She knew Nita would never put Lauren on the spot and ask her for help.

Yet Nita would also never stand here and watch others sink.

“I wonder how Mara’s doing,” Lauren whispered.

Grandpa stuck hands in his pockets and tilted his head. “You should go check then. Maybe stay and help.”

The expectation in his face matched the conviction pulsing through her heart. Lauren looked back down the hall and saw the state the harried staff was in. “I should.”

“I can hang out on Mitch’s fishin’ boat ’til you’re done.”

“I don’t want you out fishing alone. It’ll be dark soon.”

“I got a nearby buddy I can fish with.”

“Promise you’ll be okay for a bit?”

“I live by myself, don’t I?” And he didn’t look too happy about it, either.

“I suppose you do.”

He shooed her. “Go on, child. They need you worse than I do at the moment.” His grin was back.

It bolstered her courage as she walked up to Kate, who approached the desk with her head down, frantically sorting through surgical papers.

Lauren approached her. “Is there something I can do to—?”

Kate’s head surged up. She grasped Lauren’s shoulders. “Oh, yes. Please! A nurse was a no-call, no-show. We are very short staffed.” Kate shoved her toward O.R. Three. Mitch’s room.

What if Lauren did something worse than forgetting to put on a mask before entering the O.R.? Her mistake had rattled her.

Kate fell into step beside her. “They need a scrub assistant in there. Mitch’s circulating nurse is trying to be two people right now, and she almost left a clamp in a patient.”

“Not good.” Yet it almost made Lauren feel better that she hadn’t made the only nursing mistake today.

Lauren changed into surgical garb and scrubbed her hands with a sponge, then stepped into the O.R.—

To find Mitch already prepping to operate on a patient. Mitch looked up when she entered. Acute surprise, then, as she gowned and gloved, stark relief on his face flushed all fear and doubt away. “Lauren” was all he said. Then gestured to the spot right beside him. As though she naturally belonged there.

“The hiker?” She nodded at the patient, already asleep.

“Yeah. Thanks for taking the call.” His hip settled against hers. She hadn’t seen him stand that close to any other nurse.

“We brought chili over.”

“And stayed to help?” Delight brightened his amazing eyes.

She nodded, lowering her head in hopes he wouldn’t see the blush flaring past her mask and goggles.

Fondness washed across eyes that suggested he knew how hard it was for her to do this.

Mitch held out his hand, but she rested a scalpel there before he could say the word. She could tell by the way his cheeks lifted above the mask that he grinned.

She loved the transformation of lighthearted Mitch to serious surgeon. Yet he never lost his trademark humility. Confidence crucial to his job and leadership, yes. But no shred of an inflated ego existed in him.

Lauren busied herself organizing surgical instruments, feeling all eyes on her. She looked up to see Ian’s eyes crinkling at the corners as he observed her. The circulating nurse also smiled and appeared to melt with relief. They seemed really happy to have her.

God, don’t let me mess this up.
More prayer surfaced in her mind.
Help me deserve their trust and keep me as competent as this patient deserves.

“Retractor,” Mitch said after his initial cut.

Lauren eyed the instruments and picked up something resembling a shoehorn. “Retractor,” she repeated and placed it where he indicated in the surgical site.

“What happened?” Lauren asked after Mitch got through the intense portion of the surgery and into wound closure.

“Rock climber not properly geared for the terrain.”

“He’s lucky,” Lauren said, then eyed Mitch. “Had you not built this center…” She trailed off, remembering that even under anesthesia, patients’ hearing was the last sense to go.

Mitch’s expression finished her sentence.

Had this center not been here, this young man would not have made it to another hospital.

It dawned on Lauren what Mitch reminded her of when he entered into surgery-mode. He operated on each and every patient as though intent to give the person the life his dad never had.

Compassion welled up for him. She knew how it felt to grow up without a dad. Yet hadn’t God provided Lem? How odd that she and Mitch never ended up meeting until now. She handed Mitch his next-needed clamp.

Ian arranged respiratory tubing. “Cardinal outdoor rule. Never hike or fish alone,” he said to no one in particular.

Alarm screamed through her. “Mitch, does Grandpa have a fishing buddy close by?”

“Not that I’m aware of. Why?”

Lauren broke out in a cold sweat. “Then I may need to scrub out and go check on him. He came with me to drop off chili. When I was needed, he said he was going fishing with a friend.”