The Wildflower (Completed) (Southern Nights)

Chapter 8

And then she heard the buzz from the trauma room door bringing her back to reality. God! What is this man doing to me?

She was angry because she had let him slip into her consciousness so easily. He was quickly turning her uncomplicated life into a mess of complications that she didn’t want to deal with. Frustrated, she slammed the back of her hand down on the faucet to cut off the water. She had to figure out how to get Zeb Crooker out of her head. She was at work and when she was at work she needed to be focused. One small slip could be disastrous for a patient. That wasn’t an option. It was time for her to get a grip.

With her head held high, Elizabeth walked into Trauma One with grim determination. For the next eight hours her mind had to be on her patients. Patients like the little boy that was lying on the table in the center of the room. Dr. Mayberry was standing in front of him, blocking most of her view but she could tell it was a little boy because of the small, dirt covered tennis shoes hanging off the edge of the table. A woman’s voice in the corner of the room caught her attention.

Elizabeth turned and frowned when all she could see was the woman’s back. It was evident that she was the boy’s mother; and if that was the case, why was she in the corner talking on the phone. Wouldn’t it make more sense for her to be with her son, holding his hand?

“Ah, there you are. Chris said you were on your way.” Dr. Mayberry turned around and studied Elizabeth with his wise, old eyes. He sent her two winks to warn her that the little boy was scared and nervous. It was an old system that Dr. Mayberry had come up with when they treated kids so that she would know they were dealing with a delicate situation.

“Sorry I took so long,” she quickly apologized. “What do you need me to do?”

“Well, it seems as if my new friend had a little accident. He fell off of his bike this morning and I’m afraid he has a small break in his right arm. Looks like we’re going to have to cast it. Why don’t you start the preparations for me? I’m going to give Brandon a little something to help with the pain.”

She glanced once more at the little boy, willing Dr. Mayberry to move slightly to the right so she could at least try to reassure him with a smile, but Dr. Mayberry didn’t budge. He stayed right there and went back to his clinical inspection of the boys arm. “Sure thing Dr. Mayberry,” She tried to infuse an extra dose of cheeriness in her tone. “I’ll be right back with everything that we need.”

She quickly backed her way out of the trauma room and started for the supply closet. She was passing the nurse's station again when she heard the not so subtle clearing of the throat. She stopped and turned around to face Chris who was, of course, grinning at her like always. He pointed at a huge vase of what had to be a dozen pink roses. “Looks like someone has a secret admirer.”

Her gasp didn’t do anything to hide her shock. She walked over to the counter to admire the flowers close up.

“Oh wow, these are absolutely beautiful,” she said in just a little bit of awe.

Chris turned the vase full of flowers so he could see the front presentation. “I admit,” he said sitting back in his chair. “These are impressive. But what I want to know is who are they from? Do I need to go put a beatdown on some undeserving smuchk?”

Elizabeth tossed her head back and laughed. Chris was the one that trained her when she first started at the hospital. In a lot of ways she looked at him like a brother. She shrugged her shoulders. “Why don’t you pull the card and read it for me, Mr. Nosey.”

Chris grunted but reached for the card. He sat back down in his chair with a huff and stretched out his long legs. Showing his impatience, he flipped open the miniature sized envelope and read, “Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman. Thank you for the lovely time we shared last night. Hope to see you soon. Zeb.”