Page 21 of Dr. Alaska
“Hey.” His low voice warmed her as he squeezed her upper arm. “You did good today, Doc.”
Chapter Eight
Mav sent Louisehome, as their shift had ended. He had paperwork to complete, so he remained in the ED and finished his notes then went to restock their kit.
For some reason, Maverick didn’t want to leave the ED. Not yet.
Because of paperwork.
He lifted his head as the ED doors swung open. It was just Clyde heading back in to grab his winter gloves he’d forgotten.
Huh. Mav wondered how Lee liked her new glove liners and mittens he’d picked out for her earlier this week. The only reason that thought came to mind was because he was a nice guy welcoming the new doctor to town. Being welcoming. And nice. That was all.
He clicked through the fields on the EMS form and rubbed his chin. He glanced at Dee, who sat across from him at the desk, typing away on her desktop, her usual efficient self. Taking another peek at the closed ED doors, he shifted in his seat. Dee paused, leaned around her monitor, and stared at him with a bland expression. Then she made ammm-hmmsound and sat back, continuing to type.
Mav worked very hard to ignore his sister. Instead, he listened to the light sounds of the empty ED. An environmental services employee cleaned the floors. The night shift nurses chatted as they restocked the trauma bay supplies.
Man, he hoped Bruce would be okay. Lee had done a great job directing the team. Mav knew that wide-eyed expression—she had wanted nothing to do with that code. He’d seen that expression before in EMS trainees. He’d seen it in nurses and docs who sometimes floated through town to cover for a month at a time, then fled after they realized the seat-of-the-pants situation out here. As Mav’s ex had said,not as advertised in the glossy brochure. Hey, he’d done remote EMS runs where he had ended up over his head in a critical situation. He knew what fear felt like when it came to a dying patient.
How Lee was holding up? Despite her discomfort, she had remained calm during the crisis and took everything in stride, unlike some healthcare providers who got flustered and missed key steps.
Maybe she still wanted to grab that dinner he’d offered. She hadn’t outright rejected him. Was that disaster of a conversation only a few hours ago? He ran his hand through his unruly hair, then tried to pat it into order.
How was he thinking about a date now? After finishing up a code where someone almost died?
Because Mav worked in healthcare. Compartmentalization was a job requirement.
He looked around the ED once more.
He drummed his fingers, typed, then deleted. Wrong box filled out. He rubbed his eyes and thought through everything he had to do this weekend.
Man, he had to get home and feed the babies. Also needed to ensure the lodge rooms and guest cabin were prepped for the snowmachiners. Take care of a few repairs. That meant digging out various paths to and from buildings, thanks to the ongoing, recent snowfall. Too much to do and no time for any of it.
Except for a little time to have dinner with…
Rubbing his neck, he rolled his head back and forth.
Dee peeked over again and sucked a tooth.
“What?” he shouted.
“Touchy much?” She batted her eyes at him.
Dee might have been thirty-six to his thirty-four, and they were both adults, but she still got way too much pleasure out of pushing his buttons.
“Fine,” he grumbled, trying again—and failing—to concentrate on the EMS form.
“That’s not an answer to my question.”
“Why are you still here, Dee? You’re, like, the boss. It’s Friday. Your work is done. Go home.”
She rolled her eyes. “Mav, I don’t leave here. When there are holes in staffing or the need for an extra set of hands, it’s my job to help out.”
“But it’s not your job, really.” He might poke at his sister, but in truth he worried about how much she worked.
“It is out here.”
“You’re not using it as an excuse to avoid other things?”
