Page 48 of Rescuing Dr. Marian
I knew better than to want more than that.
Didn’t I?
As the teams dispersed and headed for lunch, I found myself standing alone at the trailhead with Chickie, watching Tommy disappear down the path. Even from here, I could see him falling into easy conversation with Robyn and the students around them, his natural charisma drawing everyone to him like a magnet.
Chickie whined softly and pressed against my leg, as if she could sense my mood shifting. I reached down to scratch her ears, grateful for her uncomplicated affection.
“Come on, girl,” I said, shouldering my pack. “Let’s go get something to eat.”
But as we walked toward the dining hall, I couldn’t shake the image of Tommy’s face when he’d talked about this kind of medicine. The way his whole expression had lit up, like he was remembering who he used to be before hospital politics and city life wore him down.
And I couldn’t stop wondering what would have happened if I’d been brave enough to say what I was really thinking.
Stay. Please. Just stay.
Let’s figure it out together.
12
TOMMY
The adrenalinefrom the morning’s drill was still humming through my veins as I watched my team head to the dining room, their faces flushed with the kind of satisfaction that only came from nailing something difficult. Sierra was practically glowing as she recounted her triage decisions to the others. And even Omar, who’d initially been skeptical about SERA’s requirement that all students participate in a medical training rotation since he was eager to get to practice “real SAR stuff,” was asking thoughtful questions about medication protocols in wilderness settings.
“Dr. Marian,” Cody said as he stopped by the door to the dining hall and held it open for me to pass, “that was fucking awesome. I have first aid training and some field experience, but this was next-level. How do I get more training like this after SERA?”
Familiar warmth spread through my chest—the samefeeling I used to get during my wilderness medicine rotation in residency, before staffing nightmares and endless paperwork had slowly leached the joy out of practicing medicine.
“There are other programs, including the advanced level one here at SERA,” I said. “But honestly? The best training is exactly what you’re doing now. Get out here, make mistakes, learn from them. Medicine in the field isn’t about having the perfect equipment or the latest protocols. It’s about adapting and trusting your instincts.”
As I said it, I realized how true it felt. Howrightit felt to be standing here in pine-scented air, my hands still steady from the morning’s challenges, surrounded by students who were hungry to learn not just the mechanics of emergency medicine but the art of it.
When was the last time I’d felt this energized after a shift? When was the last time I’d looked forward to the next challenge instead of dreading another twelve hours of controlled chaos and electronic medical records?
“You look happy,” Robyn observed, falling into step beside me as we headed through the dining room toward her office.
“Just thinking,” I said. “About how different this feels from hospital work.”
“Good different or bad different?”
“Good different,” I said. “Very good.”
“Excellent!” Robyn said with cheerleader-like enthusiasm. “That’s wonderful to hear.”
As we entered her office, she turned to face me. The fake blood from the training exercise was smeared on her torn shirt, making a funny contrast with her signature friendly smile.
“On that topic, I wanted to let you know your medical licensing came in.” She rocked back and forth on her boots. “You’re licensed to practice in the state of Montana. Isn’t that great?”
I blinked at her. This was good news, but hardly a surprise. “Uh, yeah. Great.”
“This means you can practice here!”
“I… yeah, I got that. Trace wanted me to get licensed if I could, and reciprocal licensing was pretty quick and straightforward.”
She propped her hip on her desk. “I think he was hoping to convince you to stay on permanently.”
I laughed. “He mentioned that. But he also knows I’m interviewing for a position in California, near my family. Besides,” I said, trying to keep it light, “he can’t afford me.”
She smiled up at me, eyes bright. “Just think about it, okay? I’m sure he’d make as strong of an offer as possible.”
