A Matter of the Heart

“Good morning, Theresa. Mr. Dale, this is the head nurse in our PICU. Mr. Dale is a reporter, and he’ll be rounding with me for the next several days. You may answer any questions he has.”

Theresa nodded in his direction. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Dale.”

He extended his hand. “Call me Rob. I promise not to get underfoot more than fifty times a day, Theresa.”

His lopsided grin gave him the look of a charming rogue, and it was painfully clear to Nora that even the stalwart charge nurse wasn’t immune as Theresa shook his hand and smiled back at him. “I doubt you’ll be underfoot at all, Rob. Is this your first visit to a PICU?”

“My very first. Be kind to me.”

Theresa chuckled. “Let me give you the tour. We currently have an eight-bed unit. However, thanks to a recent quarter-million-dollar gift made to the hospital in our name, we’ll soon be resuming construction to expand to a fifteen-bed unit with all new, state-of-the-art equipment.”

Nora held her breath thinking he would ask questions about the money, but Theresa was already on to her favorite topics—the need for more nurses and her grandchildren.

Nora stared at the two of them. How did he do it? How did he connect with people so easily? She didn’t get it. It had taken months for Theresa to warm up to Nora, and even now they were far from friends. Yet Theresa was chatting away with this reporter like she had known him for ages.

Suddenly, the code-blue alarm rang. Glancing down the hallway, she saw the light flashing over Cara Dempsey’s doorway. Rob Dale was completely forgotten as Nora raced toward the room.

Chapter Three

R ob watched Nora bolt down the hallway. Several people in lab coats came running into the unit and rushed passed him, closely followed by a security officer. Rob had no idea what was going on, but it didn’t look good.

He moved to where he could look through the door and yet be out of the way. All he could see was a ring of people crowding around a warming bed. Theresa entered the room, but she didn’t join the crowd. Instead, she went to stand beside a young couple huddled together watching the activity with wide frightened eyes.

Draping an arm around the young woman’s shoulder, the nurse gently explained to them what was going on. Rob couldn’t hear everything over the noise of the alarms, but it was clear that their baby was in serious trouble.

The young mother burst into tears and pressed her hands to her mouth, then shouted, “Don’t let her die! Please, God, I’ll do anything, just don’t let her die!”

Nora, at the side of the bed, looked up and motioned with her head toward the door. “Take them out of here, and someone silence that alarm!”

Theresa gently but firmly herded the couple out of the room. A tall, thin, young man with blond hair and dressed in a dark suit met them at the unit door and led them away. Rob noticed he was holding a Bible in one hand.

Theresa came back and stopped beside Rob. In a weary voice, she said, “That little one has been looking for the light ever since her surgery.”

Sending her a puzzled glance, Rob asked, “What do you mean?”

“Her condition has been getting worse instead of better.”

His heart dropped like a stone. “Can they save her?”

“They are doing everything they can.”

The alarm stopped, and in the sudden silence he heard Nora calling out orders for medication and asking for a stat blood gas. Her face was calm, but her voice vibrated with intensity. After the requested drugs had been given, Nora studied the monitor intently, then turned to one of the nurses. “Why wasn’t I paged?”

“I was told Dr. Kent was covering for you. I’ve paged him three times, but he hasn’t answered.”

“I want to be paged every time one of my patients is in trouble. It doesn’t matter if Dr. Kent is covering or not. You call me. Is that clear?”

Meekly, the nurse nodded and said, “Yes, Doctor.”

Leaning toward Theresa, Rob asked, “What’s wrong with the baby?”

“She had what we call transposition of the great arteries. Think of the heart as two separate pumps fused together. The right side of the heart collects blood from the body and sends it to the lungs for oxygen. The left side of the heart collects blood from the lungs and sends it to the rest of the body.”

“Okay, I get that.”

“Early on, the blood vessels coming out of the top of Cara’s heart began to grow incorrectly. The right side of her heart collects blood from the body but the blood vessel that should take it to the lungs lead out to the body instead. So blood leaves the heart without oxygen. The left side still collects blood from the lungs but then sends it back to the lungs again.”

“Wait a minute. You can’t live if your body isn’t getting oxygen. How did she survive until now?”

“The same way all babies do. In the womb. Cara got her oxygen from her mother’s blood. It wasn’t until after Cara was born and had to breathe on her own that the trouble began.”

“I take it Dr. Blake couldn’t fix her heart?”

“From what I understand, Dr. Blake did a beautiful switch of the arteries. Cara’s blood is now going exactly where it should.”

He shook his head. “Then why isn’t she getting better?”

“Because sometimes life isn’t fair, Mr. Dale. Cara suffered a stroke. Her brain is damaged. It’s one of the risks involved in being put on the heart–lung bypass machine during open-heart surgery. We see a lot fewer cases like this now than we did ten years ago, but it can happen to anyone who undergoes this kind of surgery.”

“What can be done for her?”

Theresa gave a deep sigh and laid a hand on his shoulder. “If you believe in prayer, pray for her recovery. Everything humanly possible is already being done.”

Rob nodded and breathed a silent prayer for the baby and for the men and women working to save her.

The unit doors opened. A distinguished-looking man with wings of silver in his dark hair and a deep tan walked briskly toward them. His white lab coat flapped open to reveal a gray silk shirt and a red tie above well-tailored slacks. He smoothed his sleek hair with one hand as he asked, “Did someone page me?”

Theresa left Rob’s side to confer softly with the man Rob assumed was the missing Dr. Kent. After listening to what the head nurse had to tell him, Dr. Kent nodded and walked into the room.

At the foot of the bed, he thrust his hands in his coat pockets. “I see you have everything under control, Nora. Is there anything I can do?”

She was reading a slip of paper from one of the machines beside the bed and didn’t glance up. “We have a stable heart rhythm at the moment.”

He ran a finger between his neck and his collar. “The batteries were dead in this silly pager of mine.”

Nora looked up but she didn’t smile. “Yes, one of the nurses mentioned she paged you several times. I find changing the batteries on a regular basis prevents such problems.”

She moved away from the bed and turned to the residents who had been watching her. “Let’s get started on rounds, shall we? Dr. Dalton, perhaps you can give us an overview of this patient’s neurological status, and Dr. Glasgow can give us fluid recommendations.”

A nervous-looking young man with thick glasses swallowed hard, then begin reciting a list of facts and numbers. Most of the nurses filed out of the room, leaving only one to answer questions posed by Nora and the other doctors. It was as if nothing special had happened. One minute Rob had been watching Cara Dempsey’s life hanging by a thread and the next minute everyone had gone back to other duties. It was almost bizarre.

He turned his attention back to Nora. What kind of woman did it take to make life-and-death decisions for children like this on a regular basis? What did it take for her to do such a job? He wanted to know what kind of toll it exacted on her, how she handled the pressure, what made her tick. He wanted to learn a lot more about her—and not just for his story.

Nora clasped her arms across her middle as the adrenaline rush ebbed away, leaving her feeling weak and shaken. It took all her strength to maintain a calm, controlled demeanor. It was important for her students to see that panic had no place in a critical care setting. Getting them to focus on the details of their patient might very well prevent a crisis from occurring again.

Glancing down at Cara, Nora bit the corner of her lip. She had helped the baby cheat death once more, but would it be enough?

I want to fix her. I’m a surgeon. That is what I do. I fix broken kids.

Only some children couldn’t be fixed. She knew that better than anyone. She had done all she could do for this one at the moment. She accepted it, but she didn’t like it.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Rob enter the room and stand at the far edge of the group. As she listened to the young residents list the baby’s treatments, she turned so that she could see Rob better without being observed.

What was he thinking? Was he looking for a story angle or was it genuine concern that she saw in his eyes when his gaze rested on the baby?

And why did she care what the man thought? Determined to put him out of her mind, she looked at the residents. “Who is next on our list?”

Rounds were accomplished in a relatively short time. As the group broke apart to attend to various other duties, Nora returned to the computer corner and started dictating her notes for the day. When she was finished, she looked over to see Rob straddling one of the office chairs nearby. His arms were crossed on the seat back and his chin rested on his forearms. He watched her intently.

“What?” she asked, growing uncomfortable with his scrutiny.

“Is Cara Dempsey going to be okay?”

“I don’t know.” The faces of the children who had died while under her care would never be forgotten. Their names crowded into her mind.

For a moment, she was tempted to share with him how truly difficult it was to do the job she loved. Fortunately, her pager began to beep. She checked the message. “It looks as if we are done for the day. I’ll show you back to the office so you can change.”

“Do you often have to save the day because Dr. Kent can’t be reached?”

She scowled at him and began walking down the hall. “Of course not. We’re a team.”

“He isn’t much of a team player if the nurses can’t get ahold of him when he’s needed.”

As much as Nora didn’t like Rob prying into her life, she wasn’t about to turn him loose on Peter. Her partner had been going though a rough time of his own since his recent divorce.

“Dr. Kent’s pager battery was dead. It happens. You may shadow me and ask questions about open-heart surgery or Ali Willis’s care, but I will not discuss my colleagues with you. Are we clear on that?”

“Crystal clear.”

“Good. I’m finished with my rounds for the day and I don’t have any patients scheduled in the office. Unless you wish to sit and watch me sign insurance forms and wade through the paperwork waiting for me now, I suggest you leave.”

“Okay then, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“No, I won’t be here.” She stopped at the elevator instead of taking the stairs. Her legs were still feeling shaky. It opened quickly, and she punched the button for the third floor.

“You mean you actually get a day off? That’s great. Perhaps we could get together over lunch and you could tell me more about your work with Children of the Day.”

“That won’t be possible. I’m working at the Fort Bonnell Medical Center tomorrow. I cover a few shifts a month there so that the army cardiac surgeons can get a little time off.”

“What if there is an emergency with one of the kids in this unit?”

The elevator doors opened and she stepped out. “Dr. Kent will be covering here. My next surgery is scheduled for the day after tomorrow at 8 a.m. sharp. If you wish to join me, you should be here at six-thirty.”

As they entered her office, Carmen looked up and held out a stack of notes. “You have two requests for consults. One from a doctor in Waco and one from here in Austin. Oh, and Tarkott Pharmaceuticals returned your call.”

“It’s about time. Get them on the line for me again.”

Walking into her inner office, Nora noted with relief that Rob chose not to follow. She didn’t like feeling as if she were constantly on display.

Sitting behind her desk, she turned on her computer and waited for it to boot up. The welcome screen flashed on and Nora opened the files she needed to update. Typing quickly, she had finished her first case when the phone buzzed and Carmen’s voice came over the speaker. “I have Tarkott’s CEO, Mr. Sawyer, on line one.”

Quentin Sawyer had once worked with her husband. His reputation for being a hard businessman was well earned. This wouldn’t be easy. She pressed the button. “Good morning, Quentin. Thank you for returning my call. I hope you and Merilee are enjoying the cooler weather.”

She engaged in a stint of small talk in spite of her discomfort at trying to do so. Quentin and his wife had been friends of her husband, but Nora never felt she belonged in their social circle. Still, her old contacts in the pharmaceutical world came in handy at times like this.

When Quentin paused for breath in his description of his latest classic car acquisition, Nora jumped in. “As you know from my messages, Quentin, my charity, Children of the Day, is in desperate need of antibiotics. Our doctors in one of our refugee camps have reported a severe outbreak of staphylococcus, and we are asking for your help. We need four thousand vials of penicillin, and I’m not going to take no for an answer.”

Rob stood beside Carmen’s desk and listened through Nora’s partially open door to her side of the conversation. He might be guilty of eavesdropping, but she was talking about Children of the Day and that was his story. He smiled at the secretary and took a seat in one of the chairs just outside Nora’s door as if he were waiting for her to finish.

“No,” Nora said emphatically. “Five hundred vials isn’t enough. We need four thousand. Your company’s tax break on such a donation will more than offset the cost of sending us the drugs. We both know the drugs are sitting in your warehouse taking up space. Your newer generation antibiotics are in much more demand.”

In the silence that followed as she listened to the person on the other end of the line, Rob caught Carmen’s eye. “Does she do this often?”

“All the time. She knows a lot of drug people. I think that’s what her husband did before he died.”

Nora’s voice cut in again. “You must be joking. I’m willing to take products with less than one year’s shelf life but not something that is going to expire in two months. Six months is as low as I will go, and only because I know exactly where the drugs are going and that there won’t be a delay in using them. I’m sure your company wants to be seen as ethical as well as charitable.” Nora’s tone was cool as ice. Rob didn’t envy the person on the other end of the line.

He pulled out his notebook and began to jot down some notes.

“I have a reporter here from the paper Liberty and Justice. You may have heard of them,” Nora continued. “I’m sure you don’t want them doing a story about how Tarkott Pharmaceuticals is giving away drugs that are worthless in exchange for a hefty tax break.”

Rob’s eyebrows rose in surprise. So she wasn’t above using the power of the press when it suited her. He admired her nerve.

“Good. Send the drugs directly to me. I’ll take care of the international shipping costs and the needed forms. I thank you, and Children of the Day thanks you. We’ll make sure that your company is given the recognition it deserves for your kind gesture. Please give Merilee my best. Goodbye.”

The sound of her receiver hitting the cradle signaled Rob that she was free. He rose to his feet, then stepped inside her office. At the sight of him, her expression hardened in a way that would have made most people turn tail. “I thought we were through for today.”

“I have a couple more questions, but I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation just now. Do you often solicit drugs for Children of the Day?” He flipped open his notepad and began writing.

“I help when I can.”

“It must make it easier for you than for some since your husband was in the pharmaceutical business.” He waited to jot down her comments, but when she didn’t speak he glanced at her.

During his years in the army he had seen fear in the eyes of many people, but he certainly wasn’t expecting to see that emotion on Nora’s face at this moment. Her eyes were wide with alarm, her skin drained of color.

He lowered his pen and took a step toward her. “What’s wrong?”

She recoiled and looked away. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong except that you are keeping me from getting my work done. I really have to insist that you leave now.” Her voice trembled ever so slightly. She pulled a folder from the stack at the side of her desk and opened it.

He stood rooted to the spot, uncertain of what to do. “I’m sorry if I upset you.”

“I’m not upset. I’m simply busy.”

Her tone was stronger, but he didn’t believe her. Part of him wanted to know what had caused her distress, and another part of him wanted only to reassure and comfort her.

“Good day, Mr. Dale!” This time the command was unmistakable. She didn’t even glance in his direction.

“Good day, Nora.” He walked out of her office with a dozen unanswered questions whirling though his mind.

Calling herself every kind of fool, Nora closed the file she was holding and rubbed her temples with the tips of her fingers. The tension headache building behind her eyes didn’t ease.

She had overreacted to Rob’s comment about Bernard’s business. She had seen the look of speculation in the reporter’s eyes when he left the room. Her hopes that he wouldn’t look too closely into her past might have just flown out the window and she had thrown up the sash. What could she do? How could she fix this?

By giving him what he wanted.

The answer that occurred to her was surprisingly simple. Rob wanted an in-depth look at her work for Children of the Day. The more she resisted his attempts to do that, the more likely he was to wonder why she wouldn’t cooperate.

If she decided to help him, would he think it was strange? Would it make him more suspicious?

She glanced at Pamela’s picture. What choice did she have?

Rising, she hurried to her door and pulled it open. To her relief, he hadn’t left yet.

“Rob, I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

She didn’t know who looked more surprised by her apology, Rob or Carmen.

He shook his head. “Don’t give it another thought. Are you sure you’re okay?”

She took a step toward him. “I’m stressed, that’s all. With baby Dempsey’s condition on my mind and then hearing a pharmaceutical company tell me they don’t want to help sick children…I just lost it. You were a handy target. I’m sorry.”

“I can see how you might feel stressed.”

“That’s no excuse for my behavior. I do understand what you are trying to do with your article. If you can raise the awareness of what Children of the Day does, then I’ll try not to hinder you.” She smiled broadly. “You said you had a few more questions. I’ll try to answer them.”

He waved one hand. “It can wait.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. I’ll get out of your hair and let you get back to work.”

“All right then. Good day.” Nora walked back into her office and sank into her chair. She hoped that Rob had accepted her explanation and would be satisfied with that.

He watched as Nora went back inside her office and wondered why she had undergone such a change of heart. Her explanation was reasonable, but it didn’t feel quite right.

He nodded to Carmen. “I’ll see you the day after tomorrow. I’m going into surgery with the good doctor.”

“You won’t see me. Delia will be back tomorrow.”

“Then I look forward to meeting Delia.”

“I’m not so sure you should look forward to it. Delia is a bit of a dragon. She runs a very tight ship.”

“Then I look forward to taming the dragon.”

Carmen tilted her head to one side. “If anyone can do it, I think you’re the man for the job.”

He touched his brow with one finger and gave Carmen a wink before heading out the door. In the hallway, he glanced at his notes. He had written the words husband, company name and background check.

After pulling his cell phone from his pocket, Rob scrolled through his contacts until he found the one he was looking for. He placed the call, and on the second ring it went to voice mail.

A man’s gravely voice said, “Encore Investigations. Leave a message at the tone.”

“Murray, this is Rob Dale. Call me when you get this. I have a job for you. Dig up anything you can on a charity called Children of the Day in Prairie Springs, Texas.”

Rob paused as he considered his next request. Was he doing the right thing by prying into Nora’s past? If she was no different than any other person he was writing about, why did he feel guilty about doing this?

Maybe it was because he already felt a personal connection to her that he couldn’t quite explain. He needed the information for the piece, but he also wanted to get to know more about Nora for selfish reasons. He’d never met anyone as complex, as driven, and yet with an underlying vulnerability that touched something deep inside him.

If they were simply two people getting to know each other, he wouldn’t invade her privacy this way, but she was part of a story. He’d let his personal feelings get in the way of good reporting only a short time ago and it had cost him. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

Finally, he said, “Murray, I also want you to do a background check for me. Find out what you can about a cardiac surgeon named Dr. Nora Blake, about her deceased husband and about the company he worked for. Something tells me Dr. Blake isn’t exactly what she seems.”

Chapter Four

T he sun was just peeking over the horizon the next morning when Nora pulled into the nearly empty parking lot at the Prairie Springs park. Only a half dozen cars dotted the spaces. Five of them she recognized as other runners who preferred to exercise in the quiet of the early morning hours. The red SUV was one she hadn’t seen here before.

As she opened her car door, the beast tried to get out first, climbing over Nora in his exuberance at the idea of a run in the park. Nora held on to the leash with grim determination as fifty pounds of Airedale terrier hit the end of the nylon strap.

“Conan, stop it. Sit!” Nora commanded, getting out and rubbing the bruise she knew she’d have on her thigh.

The russet brown, curly coated dog with a black saddle marking on his back dropped to his haunches and gave her a wide doggy grin. Once they were on the jogging paths, he would be the perfectly behaved running companion, but sometimes he was too eager to get under way.

“Good dog. Stay until I’ve done my stretches.”

The big terrier lay down to watch her. Officially, he belonged to Pamela, but his preference for Nora began the minute they brought the wiggling puppy home from the breeder.

Getting a puppy had been Nora’s idea, a fact Pamela reminded her stepmother of when Conan destroyed some piece of furniture or dug up the flower beds. The only way to keep his exuberance in check was to see that he got plenty of exercise. Hence, he had become Nora’s running partner.

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