Have Gown, Need Groom. Rita Herron
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Someone help me! Nurse, hurry, the doctor passed out!”
His gaze zeroed in on her name—Dr. H. Hartwell. He’d thought that’s what she’d said, but he’d been so sleepy he’d figured he’d heard wrong. Hannah Hartwell was Wiley’s daughter. What was she doing in the ER? She was supposed to be at her wedding. “Someone get a doctor!” he yelled again.
Impatience flaring, he climbed awkwardly from the gurney, grappling with the IV pole as he knelt to take her pulse. Thank God she was breathing. A sprig of baby’s breath protruded from her surgical cap, and her eyes looked slightly red and swollen. He pushed off the cap, revealing wispy blond hair. Yep, it was the same woman he’d seen in the wedding gown. So, he hadn’t been delirious.
“Dr. Hartwell, wake up,” he whispered, panic hitting him. Had Wiley heard about the shooting and ordered Hannah from her wedding to take care of him? Was that the reason she’d been upset?
Her cheeks seemed pale, long blond eyelashes lying on her creamy skin like thin layers of cornsilk. And her slender body was way too still for comfort.
Suddenly the nurse appeared, her eyes widening in dismay. “What in the world…?”
“She passed out,” Jake explained. “I’ve been yelling for help.”
A tall, older physician with a scowl on his face stormed into the room. Jake watched helplessly as they settled Hannah Hartwell onto a gurney and wheeled her away.
“I…WHAT happened?”
“You passed out on us, Doc,” Tiffany said. Hannah tried to get up, but Tiffany pressed a gentle but forceful hand on her arm. “Relax. You need to lie still and let us check your vitals again.”
Hannah bit back a moan, mortified. “I’m fine, really, Tiff. I just need something to eat.” And to figure out what’s happening to me today.
The chief of staff frowned. “Dr. Hartwell, I don’t understand what you’re doing here, or why you dragged all these reporters along—”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for them to follow me,” Hannah said weakly.
Dr. Porter pursed his thin lips. “Need I remind you this is a hospital? We’re here to treat patients, not flaunt our personal escapades.”
Hannah opened her mouth to respond, but he silenced her with a lethal look. “We can’t allow anything, especially our personal lives, to affect our work here or to jeopardize the safety and health of our patients. Is that understood, Dr. Hartwell?”
The seriousness of his words brought a wave of shame to her. “Yes, perfectly,” Hannah whispered.
“Then I suggest you go home until you’ve had time to recover, and let this…this circus you’ve created die down.”
Hannah nodded, biting her lip as her superior turned and strode from the room. Tiffany patted her arm sympathetically. “We’ll get you something to eat, Doc. You’re not going anywhere until I know you’re okay.”
Hannah’s heart squeezed at Tiffany’s unusual show of concern. She’d witnessed the woman mothering some of the young nurses but had never been on the receiving end of such treatment. Hannah had always been the caretaker. She didn’t like this vulnerable feeling. “I’m fine, really, Tiffany. I need to see about that patient.” Worry assaulted her. “Please tell me I didn’t pass out on top of him.”
Tiffany laughed. “No, on the floor.”
“Thank God.”
“But Mr. Tippins climbed down and took your pulse while he yelled for help.”
“Great, the patient doctoring the doctor.” Hannah put her hand across her forehead. “I hope he didn’t injure himself further.”
“Mr. Tippins looked like a pretty tough man to me. I think he’ll be all right.” Tiffany checked her watch. “Dr. Hunter should be removing the bullet just about now.”
Hannah accepted the juice Tiffany offered, deciding she’d rest for a few minutes, but only until Jake Tippins made it to recovery. Then she’d visit the man, apologize and beg his forgiveness. And she’d find out if she’d been hallucinating when she’d examined him. He simply couldn’t have a birthmark like the man in her dreams.
Because bizarre things like this didn’t happen to her.
Mimi, maybe.
But not stable, secure, hardworking, levelheaded, mature Hannah.
“WELL, that just about covers it.” Hannah avoided Jake’s hard gaze as she instructed him on activities to avoid during recovery. “Do you understand, Mr. Tippins?”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice slightly slurred from the medication.
Tension knotted Hannah’s shoulders. “On behalf of my father, I want to thank you for catching that thief. And I want to apologize for fainting on you.”
“It was no big deal.” Still lying on his stomach, he propped his face on his hand and looked up at her, a goofy grin on his face as if he sensed her awkwardness. Either that or the pain medication had affected his brain.
The chief of staff’s warning rang in her ears. “Well, I truly am sorry.”
“No problem, Doc.”
But she did have problems. Somehow she had to forget that she’d seen this man’s naked backside in her dreams. And that the very reason she’d canceled her wedding and jilted her fiancé at the altar was because of the erotic dream she’d had about him.
Back to business. She had to salvage her reputation. She might have lost Seth and the Broadhurst name, but she couldn’t lose her job. And if she didn’t start acting more professionally, she probably would do just that. “How are you feeling now, Mr. Tippins?”
“Just peachy,” he said in a deep drawl. “How about you?”
Hannah tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her fingers trembling. “I’m fine.” Just coming down with a case of the Hartwell crazies.
“Your color’s looking better.”
Hannah averted her eyes, lifting the bandage slightly to check his incision. “Are you in pain?”
“I was earlier, but you distracted me.”
Hannah resisted the urge to pinch him and wipe that cocky grin off his face. “That wasn’t my intention, I can assure you. It’s been a hectic day, and I hadn’t eaten anything. I’ll definitely be more careful from now on and watch my blood-sugar level.”
He rolled his shoulders in a slight shrug. “Ahh gee, and here I thought I was special.”
The man was incorrigible.
Ignoring him, she said, “Get some rest tonight. We should be able to release you tomorrow.”
He must have been exhausted because he simply nodded and smiled tightly. His only sign of pain—the muscles in his cheeks clenched when she retaped the bandage.
Hannah swallowed, stunned by the sudden hot sensations weaving through her. Maybe her hormones were out of whack. Coupled with nerves, an imbalance could cause hot flashes. She should check her estrogen levels, although she was way too young for—
“Doc?”
She signed off on his chart. “Get some rest now, Mr. Tippins. I need to check my other patients.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be on your honeymoon?”
Hannah paused, absentmindedly tapping the chart with her pen. “How did you know I was getting married?”
“Wiley let everyone at the dealership off early to attend your wedding. That’s the reason I was working by myself.”
Right, he worked for her father; how could she