Page 2 of Beneath Her Hands
“That may be, but that is how they show concern, even appreciation around here,” Dr. Mars answered. Rosalind noted the slight flare of her nostrils. “You’d do well to remember that.”
Rosalind closed her eyes and took a breath. She forced herself to remember that she was talking to her boss. Not that she needed the job that desperately. She could retire and probably be just fine on her military pension. Hell, she could always go back to them if she wanted. She shook her head. She needed to be here for her mother, and she knew she would go stir crazy if she retired. Working here was still her best option, so in a way, she needed this job.
“I apologize,” she said again, finally meeting Dr. Mars’ gaze. “It’s going to take some adjusting for me.”
“I understand,” Dr. Mars answered and turned to the paperwork on her desk. “I’m sure the others around here will too, you just have to give them some time.” She gestured for Rosalind to sit down.
“These are some forms and things I need from you, the basic new-hire paperwork,” Dr. Mars said, sliding the stack of papers toward her.
Rosalind eyed the stack in front of her, that was one of the few perks of where she was before, there was relatively little documentation necessary, the U.S. Army loved their forms and paperwork, of course, but most of the people she served were just happy to have their lives given back to them in the most basic sense. Though it already felt as though she had signed away most of her life when she discharged a few weeks ago.
As she flipped through the contracts and liability forms, she chatted with Dr. Mars, but each conversation made her feel more and more like a fish out of water. There were relatively few big trauma cases recently, and most of those involved accidents or wildlife encounters. A lot of their funding went toward neurological and infectious disease research thanks to a pair of doctors that had saved the city from some renegade rabies virus, both of whom were on sabbatical at the moment but due to return in a month. Still, most of her job would revolve around trips, falls, broken bones, and the occasional auto accident. Nothing at all like what she was used to. She tried to focus, tried to spin it to her advantage. She would be able to truly hone her skills here, she would be able to spend time studying techniques and adding an edge to her own, maybe even train a new team of trauma surgeons eventually. She could live with that. She could slow down and enjoy life.
She chuckled to herself as she signed the last form in the stack. Doctor Mars looked at her quizzically, but Rosalind just shook her head. She knew she was kidding herself. This assignment was temporary at best, once she had her father sorted out, and her mother placed in a home where she could thrive, there would be nothing holding her here any longer. This was her parent’s city, not hers. She’d never really felt like she belonged, even as a child she felt like an outsider. Nothing was permanent, especially this. Somehow that thought made her feel a little better, much more than any of the nonsense she wastrying to convince herself. As soon as her parents were taken care of, she would be on the move again.
“Well, are you ready to see your department?” Dr. Mars asked as she stood up from her chair.
“I believe I am,” Rosalind answered.
“Right this way, I’ll show you the Emergency Department and from there the trauma rooms,” Dr. Mars said. She grabbed a lab coat from the hook behind her and pulled it on.
“Doctor Mars?” a voice called from behind Rosalind. She turned, and the woman standing in the door took her breath away. She wore a dark suit covered by a lab coat identical to the one Dr. Mars was pulling over her shoulders. Tall and willowy, the woman seemed to glide into the room and gave Rosalind the briefest of nods, though Rosalind could feel her eyes linger if only for a slight moment. Her long legs stretched for days up into narrow hips and a trim waist. Her shoulders were straight and poised, her arms long and graceful. Her blouse was opened at the top, revealing the slightest hint of cleavage between small breasts, and her collarbones protruded slightly up into am arched neck. Her face was soft and seemed to glow, her lips full and glistening with deep red. Her eyes were heavily lined so that her emerald-green irises seemed to glow beneath long lashes. High, sharp cheekbones gave her a regal air, and long dark hair fell in soft waves around her face and down her shoulders. She was quite easily the most stunning woman Rosalind had ever seen.
“Ah, yes,” Doctor Mars said with a smile as she adjusted her coat. “We were just coming down to see you.”
“Why?” she asked, glancing back and forth between the two of them. Her expression was almost haughty, and Rosalind became annoyed with the way her own thoughts seemed to have been jumpstarted again.
“This is Doctor Rosalind Maxwell.” Doctor Mars indicated Rosalind. “Doctor Maxwell, this is Doctor Jane Roberts, our ER lead. You’ll be working closely with one another.”
“Charmed,” she regarded Rosalind with a quick glance. “Doctor Mars, my nurses are overworked. I just caught Sandraasleepat her station. We need another nurse; they can’t keep going like this.”
“I’ve told you already, you have to take that up with Kellie, she handles the nursing staff,” Doctor Mars said with a hint of exasperation.
“According to her, we don’t have the budget,” Dr. Roberts countered.
“I’ll talk to her,” Doctor Mars assured her, though Rosalind could see that this was not the first time they’d had this particular conversation. “We’ll see what we can do.”
“Exhausted nurses lead to mistakes,” Doctor Roberts said.
“I know, Doctor,” Doctor Mars almost growled. “I said we’ll see what we can do about it, maybe we can rearrange some schedules. The ER is calm for now; why don’t you let Sandra get some rest until you need her?”
“Why is Sandra sleeping at her post?” Rosalind asked, earning her two glares.
“Because she’s tired,” Doctor Roberts said slowly and cut her eyes back toward Dr. Mars.
“That’s not an excuse,” Rosalind said, her own temper flaring.
“Sandra is an excellent nurse,” Doctor Roberts said, her emerald eyes flashing, “but she’s worked three doubles in a row, no one can function without rest.”
“You’d be surprised what people are capable of when it’s necessary,” Rosalind snapped.
“This isn’t Afghanistan, Doctor…”
“Maxwell,” Rosalind barked.
“Maxwell,” Doctor Roberts said her tone filled with condescension. “We aren’t fighting for our own lives here, we are fighting for theirs, and if they’re too tired to work then eventually someone’s going to drop the ball.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
