Forever's Promise. Farrah Rochon
town had only recently acquired a health clinic that was staffed by volunteer doctors and nurses a couple of days a week. Thankfully, Maplesville, which was only twenty minutes away—fifteen if she didn’t hear any beeps on the police radar detector mounted to her dashboard—had a small hospital.
Shayla strapped Kristi into her booster seat and told Cassidy to buckle her seatbelt. Once she was behind the wheel, she maneuvered the rearview mirror so that she could see her nieces.
“Don’t worry, everything’s going to be okay,” Shayla assured them.
God, she hoped she was right.
* * *
“Do you feel any tenderness or pain when I press here?” Xavier Wright asked the twentysomething who’d walked into the E.R. with complaints of stomach pains.
“Not really,” she said. “Maybe a little higher.”
He gently pressed along her rib cage. “Here?”
“Just a little higher,” she said, adding a seductive purr to her voice.
Xavier bit back a curse. His teeth gritted as he backed away from the exam table. He didn’t have time to perform a breast exam, even though he knew that’s exactly what his latest “patient” had in mind.
“I don’t think this is appendicitis,” he said. “You may want to try a laxative.”
Her forehead scrunched as she frowned. Yeah, mentioning laxatives was always a good way to zap the sexy out of any conversation.
Xavier made a couple of notations in the patient’s electronic chart. “I’ll send a nurse in to discuss some over-the-counter medications that may help.”
“Don’t bother,” she said with a pout.
“It’s up to you whether or not you heed my medical advice,” he said, disregarding her disgruntled huff. He had zero tolerance for this kind of nonsense today.
As he backed out of the exam room, he spotted his favorite RN, Patricia Reyes, exiting the room across the hallway. She gestured to the room he’d just escaped from. “You figure out what was bothering that hot little thing in there?”
“According to her, it’s stomach pains,” Xavier answered.
“Yeah, right. I think she’s suffering from Horny Woman Syndrome. It’s been going around since a certain doctor pulled into town.”
Xavier pitched his head back and massaged the bridge of his nose. “I swear I’m not doing anything to encourage them.”
“You don’t have to, darling. You’re young, single, handsome and a doctor. You’re like a virus that every desperate woman within a twenty-mile radius wants to catch.”
“Thanks. That makes me feel a lot better.”
Patricia’s laughter followed him as he made his way to the small employees’ lounge and poured himself a cup of six-hour-old coffee. He didn’t bother with sugar or cream; this was purely for survival. He’d pulled a double shift and was dead on his feet.
The door opened and Bruce Saunders, who was currently one of only two permanent E.R. physicians at Maplesville General, walked in.
“How’s it going?” Bruce asked. “I heard you had another female patient with a mysterious ailment who refused to see any doctor but Dr. Wright.”
Xavier held his hands out, exasperation weighing his shoulders down. “In the month that I’ve been here I swear that’s the tenth woman who’s managed to get past triage with some trumped-up illness.”
“This place hasn’t been this busy in a while.” Bruce chuckled, pouring himself a cup of the stale coffee. “At least some good has come from it. Yesterday, Patricia discovered that Etta Mae Watson had a staph infection on the back of her leg that she knew nothing about. Chasing after you probably saved her life.”
The door opened again, and another of the nurses said, “We have two patients waiting. A vomiting three-year-old and Jackson Pritchard with chest pains.”
“I’ll take Mr. Pritchard,” Bruce said. “I had to crack his chest open a couple of years ago.”
“He’s behind trauma curtain three. Dr. Wright, I put the three-year-old in the private exam room.”
Xavier downed the rest of his lukewarm coffee in one gulp and headed out of the lounge. At least he didn’t have to worry about a three-year-old faking an illness in hopes of being seen by the shiny new doctor.
He punched the number the nurse gave him into his electronic tablet and pulled up the patient’s chart before entering the room. The younger of two little girls was seated on the exam table. Her mother stood to the left of her, rubbing a soothing hand along the little girl’s back. One side of her shirt was streaked with a yellowish substance.
“What do we have here?” Xavier asked.
“I don’t know what’s going on with her,” the mom said. The slight tremble in her voice betrayed the anxiety she was likely trying to hide for the sake of her daughters.
Xavier waited for her to catch his gaze. “It’s going to be okay,” he said. “We’ll take care of her.”
The mother nodded, though her eyes teemed with distress.
“Let’s have a look.” He leaned the child back on the table and lightly pressed her stomach. Her face contorted and she sat up straight. Xavier backed away just in time. She unloaded brilliant yellow vomit all over the floor and her hospital gown.
“There she goes again,” the older girl said.
“How many times has she vomited?” Xavier asked the mother as he grabbed a clean hospital gown from a small closet and ripped off the plastic. He lifted the soiled gown and draped the fresh one over the girl.
“I’m not sure,” the mother said.
She looked to the older child, who said in a soft voice, “Three times, I think.”
“So this would make four,” the mother said. “No, five. Someone needs to clean the parking lot outside.”
Xavier sent her a reassuring smile. “I’ll let maintenance know.”
“Is it bile?” the mother asked. “She’s vomiting bile, isn’t she?”
“Nah, it’s not bile,” Xavier said. He dipped his head, bringing it to eye level with the toddler. “What I want to know is why is it such a pretty color? Have you been eating candy?”
The little girl shook her head.
“You sure?” Xavier asked.
“I promise,” she said in a thready whisper.
The mother plopped a hand on her forehead. “Oh, God. I know what it is.” She looked to the older girl. “Did you two try dyeing eggs?” The question was met with complete silence. “Cassidy, I told you to wait until I woke from my nap.” She turned his attention to him. “I should have suspected this from the start.”
Xavier’s bullshit meter started to buzz. He wasn’t the world’s greatest parenting expert, but this seemed sketchy. What mother would leave two young children unsupervised with egg-dyeing materials in plain view?
“Were you using regular food coloring, or was it one of those egg-dyeing kits?” Xavier asked the mother.
“It’s a kit.”
“It’s probably nontoxic, but you’ll need to check the packaging just to make sure.” He stooped to the little girl’s eye level. “I’m going to get Nurse Patricia to give you some medicine. It will make you throw up again, but then I promise you’ll feel a lot better.”
The mother’s shoulders wilted in relief. She ran a hand along the little girl’s arm.
Xavier