Page 1 of From Rivals to I Do

Prologue

Prologue

It’s been a slow, droll, lull of a shift at Our Lady of Peace hospital in Amarillo, Texas—two days before Christmas in fact, and I feel like death warmed over. I’ve been working doubles for two weeks without a day to myself, and though my feet hurt, and my legs feel weak, I carry on like usual.

I mean, any human being stuck in my position would be exhausted too, so what’s the use in whining about it?

It’s okay though, I need the money. My husband, Doctor Joseph Middleton, and I not only work at the same hospital, but we own a little farm together. I love all the animals with everything I have. They’re like my little babies now that Sparrow and Joe Junior have left the nest, making the place not feel so. . . well. . . empty. The only problem is that nothing in life is free, and the upkeep on the place is expensive enough. But with inflation and the bank increasing our mortgage. . . even between the two of us, it’s been hard to keep afloat.

So, I suppose it’s a blessing that I am getting all these extra hours anyway, though it’s not so great for everyone else.

It’s flu season here at the hospital, and thanks to the tourists enjoying the warmer weather from up north—and just the time of year in general—it’s been making its icky rounds and spreading through the nursing staff like a California wildfire. But call it good diet and exercise or just dumb luck, but I’m one of the few who haven’t caught it yet while everyone else is calling out, leaving us incredibly understaffed.

As the night wanes on, however, it’s beginning to feel much different than the normal fatigue I’ve been experiencing. In fact, each step feels heavier than the next, as if my feet have concrete blocks tied to them. I’m dragging them along behind me as I’m finally able to reach the nurse’s desk and take a seat for a moment to get some paperwork done.

“Jesus Darla, you look awful,” Penelope says, and as I look up at her from my desk chair, I can feel warmth gathering in my face and settling in my cheeks and eye sockets.

“I’m just tired, it’ll pass,” I reply as I wave her off. Even though my head is beginning to pound, I take the clipboard in my hand and enter the information on my patient’s sheet into the computer. Another set of twins to begin adding to the maternity ward rounds. . . One’s being sent off to the NICU. . .

“Look a lot more than tired,” Penelope says, her face ticked into a worried half-smile. “Let me take your temp.”

“Penny, I don’t got time for that.” I sigh as I look at my watch, standing up quickly. Apparently, it’s far too fast because the next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital bed down in the emergency room. The headache I’d had from earlier was much worse as I lay there shivering under a stack of blankets.

“Ah, glad to see you’re awake,” Doctor Lee says, a troubled look on his face as he shuts off his flashlight. “I was starting to get worried there.”

“What happened?” I ask with a groan.

“Well, you took a pretty nasty fall upstairs on the labor ward,” Doctor Lee replies. “You gave Penny quite the scare.”

“I’m fine,” I insist, and I go to sit up. Immediately, I regret it, the pounding in my head roaring as pain shoots to my eyebrow. I put my hand to my forehead, realizing that there’s a bandage there, and when I gently press it I let out a gentle hiss as it’s tender to the touch.

“Actually, no, you’re not,” Doctor Lee says as he helps me lay back down. “You have the flu.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I whine as I heave a heavy sigh.

“It was bound to happen sooner or later with as rampant as it’s been around here, Darla,” Doctor Lee says with a shrug. “The bigger deal here is that I’m now also a bit worried about a concussion to be honest.”

“Well, that would explain the tenderness,” I reply, frowning. Of course, I’d have to be the one to beef it on the ward like a fool, I think to myself. Now all the girls are going to be yucking it up about it later. Well, whoever can even make it in. . . “But if I can just rest awhile, I think I’ll be good to go back up there.”

“Oh no, you are not going back on the ward,” Doctor Lee replies.

“Really?” I ask, my heart hopping into my throat.

“Yes, really,” Doctor Lee replied with a smile. “But don’t worry, I already talked to Doctor Proctor; I told him what happened, and we’ve called Jennifer in from ICU to fill your spot.”

“Wait, you’re sending me home?” I ask.

“If you’re worried about a hit to your attendance, trust me, you’ve got enough sick days.”

Yeah. . . but not paid ones at the moment. A big emphasis on the ‘not being paid for it’ part.

“But—”

“No buts, Darla,” Doctor Lee replies with a shake of his finger. “You’ve got to go home. You’re contagious and have a head injury. We can’t have you getting the pregnant women or babies sick, you know that.”

If Doctor Proctor were right in front of me, I knew I might be able to weasel my way into staying with some acetaminophen and an ice pack. But not with Doctor Lee. It isn’t that Doctor Proctor is a bad guy, but he lived to work and expected that from everyone else. He’s very much a pick yourself up by your bootstraps, dust yourself off, and keep going type of man.

Doctor Lee, however, is his bipolar opposite when it comes to personality and care for the workers. If you were sick or hurt, he’d find a way to get you out of there the best he could. Whether it was by sending you home early, or sometimes, letting you sleep it off in the resting area we have for the doctors and nurses to use on break.

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