Page 29 of Beneath Her Hands
Jane sat up and locked her bright green eyes directly onto Rosalind’s. “Don’t try to run, just give this some space, give it room to breathe.”
“What if I can’t breathe?” Rosalind whispered.
“You can, take your time, maybe even enjoy it, just don’t run away from it,” Jane said.
Rosalind sat up. Her eyes trailed down Jane’s long limbs, her perfect stomach, her gently curved legs. As her eyes traveled back up to Jane’s face, Jane’s eyes were sharp with expectation.
Rosalind stood up from the couch and started the task of finding her clothes. She pulled on her panties, feeling self-conscious at how intently Jane was watching her movement, before Jane finally started moving around the room herself. After a few moments of awkward silence, they both stood infront of the other, the only evidence of their passion in the slight marks on their bodies and flushed cheeks.
“Jane, this is a mistake,” Rosalind pushed, unwilling to meet her eyes.
“It isn’t and you know it,” Jane countered.
“Attachment never ends well; it’s always tragic,” Rosalind said as tears pricked her eyes. She didn’t believe her own words, and the thought of letting Jane in was exhilarating and terrifying. How could she take Jane with her to the places she needed to go? To the places where death was just over your shoulder? People died daily, fighting for their homes, their lives, their loved ones. Rosalind couldn’t fathom bringing Jane into that—she would never be able to put her through all that—and yet the thought of giving it all up was almost as paralyzing.
“Rosalind,” Jane said. “You don’t have to do anything, you don’t have to prove anything, and you don’t have to give up anything. We have time, we don’t have to rush. Maybe tomorrow we’ll feel different, maybe in an hour we’ll feel different, but all you have to do right now is accept what has happened, accept what we are when we’re together. Then we can take it from there.”
“I feel trapped, Jane,” Rosalind said.
“There’s no reason to,” Jane said. “You’re not trapped. I would never do that to you.”
“It’s not you,” Rosalind said, finally looking up at her. “It’s not what you’re doing, this is my own problem. If I allow myself to become attached to you, then what will that do to me?”
“You’re overthinking this, Rosalind,” Jane said and put her hands on Rosalind’s shoulders. Rosalind almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation. Rosalind was revered as a hero, as this strong, independent woman who traveled the world saving lives, yet here she was terrified to let herself feel something. Waiting for Jane to tell her what to do.
“Jane I?—”
“Just let it settle, Rosalind,” Jane said softly and pulled Rosalind into an embrace that she couldn’t resist returning. “Don’t say anything right now, don’t do anything right now, just let this be. Any decisions, anything that impacts us for more than this moment, right now, can wait.”
Rosalind nodded, but she didn’t feel it. She wished she had Jane’s confidence that everything would turn out the way it should. That was not a reality she’d ever lived. Things didn’t just work out; good people weren’t rewarded and bad people weren’t punished. God, the Universe, whatever didn’t have any sort of rhyme or reason. Good people suffered, bad people succeeded, and all Rosalind could do was exist and try to help where she could. Jane would never understand that. She lived in this world of privilege that stood barely outside the laws of nature. Rosalind couldn’t hurt her like that, she couldn’t force this knowledge, this existentialism onto her. Jane needed to stay, to live in her world of comfort and happiness. Rosalind pulled away from the embrace. The cold that filled the space was almost painful.
“I have to get some work done,” Jane said simply then leaned in to kiss Rosalind. The kiss was soft, endearing. “Let’s get dinner later.”
“That sounds nice,” Rosalind said, but she knew she wouldn’t go through with it.
Jane smiled and kissed her again, then left Rosalind standing in her office staring at the closed door. She could still smell Jane’s scent on her, hovering in the room like a cloud. Rosalind took a deep breath and moved behind her desk, sitting heavily in her desk chair and spinning back and forth a couple of times before switching on her computer. She flipped through a few charts, a little bit of documentation, but her mind was not in it. She leaned back in her chair and sighed. How had she let herselfget to this point? This feeling, this connection, whatever it was—she refused to call it love—was taking over her mind. She had to put a stop to it before it consumed her completely. Part of her wanted to go find Jane, to stop it all where it was, but something stopped her. She convinced herself that it was her conversation with Jane, that she would respect what Jane had said and take some time before bringing it up again, though she knew the outcome.
Her phone pinged, there were some traumas coming in, something about the mining operation, and from the page it looked bad. Rosalind shook her head in annoyance and headed to the ER. When she pushed through the doors, Jane was busy directing the staff. Even while giving orders and preparing for patients, she looked beautiful and graceful while strength emanated from her in waves. How could Rosalind have ever believed that she was anything less?
Rosalind approached her, and the light in Jane’s eyes grew brighter, which made Rosalind’s heart flip in her chest. She recognized the emotion, it was the same one she felt at the sight of Jane. When they both reached for a trauma gown at the same time, Jane’s hand lingered for the briefest of moments on Rosalind’s, who then had to hide her smile. Jane’s eyes turned hard as her gaze shifted into the ambulance bay.
“What’s going on?” Rosalind asked as she pulled on her gloves.
“It’s the quarry,” Jane said, “there was some sort of explosion, a lot of people are hurt. The hospital closer to the operation is at capacity so they are sending the overflow here, from what I’m hearing, there’s a lot of them.”
Rosalind pressed her lips and her pulse rocketed. Explosions were something she was intimately familiar with, though usually they were the result of IEDs rather than accidents, but the outcome was the same. She could faintly hear sirens wailingin the distance; it sounded like several. Flashes of her time overseas filled her mind. Men, women, children, all covered in burns and screaming in pain. Her focus narrowed and nothing else mattered at that point. She turned and glanced at Jane. Their eyes met briefly, and instead of fear or self-consciousness, all Rosalind felt was purpose; she was exactly where she was supposed to be.
Ambulances began to fly into the bay, and Rosalind’s training took over. With practiced precision, she directed patients to radiology, to the infirmary, to the trauma rooms. The patients were mostly men, covered in burns, writhing, moaning, some even screaming in pain. Rosalind headed into the first trauma room. The patient was only barely conscious, but enough to cry out as the nurses began debriding the burns. Rosalind quickly administered morphine, and the patient visibly relaxed, but the pain was still significant. Rosalind could smell the charred skin, and in one place on his arm she could see down to the bone. This patient would eventually need fairly extensive surgery, but she was not ready to give him a room just yet, she needed to see what was the most urgent. As the debriding was completed, the patient was wrapped almost completely in a sterile dressing and moved out so that the next one could come in.
Wave after wave of patients came through the trauma rooms, most in similar states to the first. Somewhere in the mix was a middle-aged woman. Rosalind was told that she was one of the foreman on the site who had sustained quite a bit of blunt trauma in addition to being almost completely covered in burns. The sight of her sent Rosalind’s blood rushing and the sounds and screams of the war-zones began to claw at the edges of her mind. Almost as though she knew, Jane suddenly appeared in the room next to Rosalind asking for the status.
Rosalind’s focus snapped to the gorgeous woman in front of her and she was able to speak again. “We need to get her intosurgery,” she said. “I think there’s some internal bleeding, and she really needs a sterile atmosphere. Do you have some space set aside for the burn victims?”
“Yes,” Jane answered. “We have the designated burn unit, and I have some of the nurses converting half the ICU into sterile rooms, that should give us enough space for everyone.”
“Good,” Rosalind said. The connection between them was almost impenetrable, and Rosalind could feel it settling even deeper into her bones. It felt good and Rosalind let the feeling wash over her. She and Jane quickly finished cleaning and dressing the woman’s more prolific burns then she was wheeled out for an MRI before being sent to the OR. Without a spare thought, Rosalind and Jane removed their stained trauma gowns and headed down the hall toward the OR. Their sterile dance seemed to resume as they scrubbed and prepared for the surgery, moving with and around each other with practiced precision. Rosalind’s eyes followed Jane’s graceful movements as they spun around each other in perfect synchrony.
Rosalind had been correct, the woman had severe internal bleeding, but working next to Jane, they were able to locate and stop the bleeding before it was too late. It would still be touch and go for a while for the patient, but they had done all they could to keep her stable for the time being. As they both scrubbed out, their eyes locked in a knowing gaze. Rosalind knew she wouldn’t be able to keep denying these feelings. They worked so beautifully together; this was something much deeper than a chemical attraction. Acting on a rash impulse, Rosalind caught Jane as they were about to leave the room and spun her around, kissing her deeply. When she pulled back, Jane’s face was flushed, and her eyes sparkled as she turned back toward the door and walked out with Rosalind behind her.
