Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
I tuck my hand in my pocket and flip the bluebird token between my fingers a few times. The process has always helped me think through many issues in my life. I still my hand, my emotions settling as an idea becomes clear.
Turning on my heels, I head back out the door and down the short hall, knowing exactly what I need to do. Flip the script.
This doesn’t have to be a negative. It could be an opportunity. I’ve carried the weight of that painful night around for ten years. It’s time to cut myself free from the burden.
Pulling my chair up to my desk again, my fingers clank against the keyboard. When Brandon’s chart opens, I scan it until I land on the injuries incurred. How can I help him recover best?
Ice chips won’t help heal him, but it might comfort him as he recovers from the smoke inhalation. I’ll get those if he wakes again. I maneuver around the desk, heading straight for Brandon’s room. I’m slow to lower the handle and peek in, hoping he’s resting and I’m not the one keeping him up. The hall light floods the small opening, giving me ample light to see him sleeping.
I slip inside and walk to his bedside. After being busted once, I’d prefer it wasn’t twice. Moving slowly and quietly, I adjust the pillow under his head to keep his neck aligned, hoping his airway is open and clear.
I look around for a humidifier, confident they had it going the first few days of his hospital stay. I don’t see the machine, but there’d be no way to put the mask on to treat him while he’s sleeping without waking him up anyway. I’ll hold off on that for now.
A concussion is touch-and-go. That he’s had one before, as noted in his chart, has me wondering if this second one could be the reason for the memory loss, even if minimal to most people.
As for the spinal contusion, I stand bedside studying every inch of Brandon. I’m a trained nurse. It’s perfectly normal to stare at a sleeping patient. Routine even. Except that seeing him like this, really seeing the man he’s turned into, is not so routine. I scrape my teeth over my bottom lip, freeing it, and then drag the tip of my tongue over it as I study how much broader his shoulders are these days. There’s a layer of scruff that I don’t think I’ve seen on him before. He’s usually clean-shaven. Not that I really noticed, but the change is more obvious to me now. His brown hair is disheveled, and I wonder if he’s been brought a toiletry bag from home or if I should get the man a comb.
I roll my eyes when I turn to exit. Seeing this man—acknowledging how hard and built he is, handsome to some—not me, of course—but it’s obvious why others might find him attractive—has me realizing that this is definitely a good time to leave.
“Nurse?” I freeze with my fingers wrapped around the door handle, my breath stalling in my chest. I hear the slightest of shuffling, and then he says, “Autumn?”
Taking a breath, I hold it to regulate before exhaling and slowly looking back over my shoulder. A smile slides so naturally onto my face when I see him that I wonder when I decided to betray myself. What happened to the night at the lake? Seeing him with . . . He doesn’t remember, and I wish I could forget instead of reacting like this is the time or place for a reemergence of old grudges. I’m at work, for goodness’ sake. I’m a professional, and I need to act like it.
I release the handle and return to his bedside. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired.” A gruff laugh escapes his throat before he clears it.
“Your body has gone through a lot.” I reach for the water and top off the cup, then hand it to him with a straw. “Tired is normal, but pain is something I can help manage.” Running my hand over the rail, I add, “Or if there’s anything you need to be more comfortable, I can—”
“No. I’ll be fine.” His gaze dips to my left hand. I drop it to my side, feeling exposed for some reason. Exposed how? For being the single woman I am? The Brandon Culver I’ve always known is well aware of my dating status. The whole town knows basically every detail of my romantic life from that first kiss to the heartbreak I had at college graduation. I’m glad last year’s hockey player stint didn’t last, or that would have been blasted through the grapevine, too. Maybe it’s not just a fresh start with Brandon I need to accept.
Maybe it’s actually time for me to move on from Mountain Laurel Cove, too. My stomach twists into a knot, the subject one that’s too big to be thinking about when I have patients who need me more right now.