Six-Week Marriage Miracle

His suggestion was so very tempting … especially when she reflected on their stolen moments during the early days of their relationship. In his position as a surgical resident and hers as a newly minted ED nurse, as long as a deadbolt guarded their privacy, they’d been happy.

Unfortunately, they didn’t have a locked door and Gabe had become a celebrity, which meant privacy was impossible. Although those details didn’t present an insurmountable problem, making love at this point implied that their personal life was fine and dandy.

And it wasn’t.

“Not a good idea,” she pointed out.

“Why not?”

“You mean, other than that you’re barely able to stand?”

“Yeah.”

“This place will be like Grand Central Station before long,” she reminded him. “Everyone wants to drop by and give you a personal welcome.”

“They can wait. Besides, people will understand if we have a quiet, intimate reunion. They’re probably expecting it, which means no one will interrupt us unless there’s a fire.”

The sad fact was he was probably right. Most people knew they were separated, but no one, other than Jane, knew the D-word had been floated between them. Everyone loved a happy ending, which meant everyone would speculate—if not hope—that Gabe’s return would be the turning point in their relationship. Perhaps under other circumstances, it would have been, but their differences were more deep-seated than a conversation or a few promises could fix.

“They can expect all they want, but it isn’t going to happen.”

His sigh was audible. “I suppose not, but I really would like you to wash my back. I can’t reach.”

Instantly, she felt ashamed for not realizing how his bruised ribs and stiff shoulder made his request completely valid. Irritated at herself for jumping to the wrong conclusion, she shoved the curtain aside to see her dripping husband struggling to touch those hard-to-reach places.

“Turn around,” she ordered, determined to handle her task with clinical detachment. Yet, as she ignored the spray of water on her scrub suit to run a soapy washcloth down his spine and over the lean muscles of his back before moving around to his front, her concern over what he’d endured grew. This wasn’t the body of the man she’d last seen a month ago. Oh, the birthmark in the small of his back was the same, as was the general shape of his torso, but while he’d once reminded her of a lean mountain lion with rock-hard muscles and sinew, now he resembled a starving wolf.

“If you keep that up,” he said dryly, “our private reunion will be extremely one-sided.”

Realizing she’d come dangerously close to an area of his body where she hadn’t intended to go, she froze.

“Although,” he added softly, “there’s always later.”

The promise in his voice sent an unexpected tingle through her body but, then, a mere glance, a simple touch, or a softly spoken word from Gabe had always carried enough power to melt her into a puddle. What truly surprised her was how she could respond so easily in spite of the issues that had driven them apart. Was she so starved for attention and affection that when he showered her with both, she would greedily accept it?

Disliking what her response suggested, she dropped the washcloth over the handrail. “Rinse off. I’ll be waiting.” Suddenly realizing what she’d said, she clarified. “Outside. I’ll be waiting outside.”

As he laughed, she flung the curtain closed and counted to twenty so Gabe could finish and she could recover her composure.

“Time’s up,” she called.

He didn’t respond.

“Gabe?” she repeated. “Your time is up.”

Still no answer.

“Gabe?” Although she hadn’t heard a thump or other worrisome noise, his silence raised her concern. She flung back the curtain once again to find him leaning against the tiled wall, his eyes closed, his dark hair dripping.

“I knew it,” she scolded as she cranked the taps until the water stopped. “You’ve stayed in here too long. You’re about to fall on your face.”

“Maybe, but being clean would be worth it.”

CHAPTER THREE

GABE hated feeling weak. For a man whose body had never failed him before, it was a humbling experience to be at less than peak condition. However, if his injuries convinced Leah to give him another chance, he wouldn’t complain too loudly.

Although, in spite of his aches and pains, he’d been relieved to discover one part of his body still worked quite well. If he hadn’t stopped her from toweling him off like a child, he would have needed a second shower—an ice-cold one.

“I don’t suppose I can wear a scrub suit instead of that,” he said, eyeing the hospital gown she held out.

“We’d never be able to take care of your leg if you were wearing trousers.”

“I could wear a pair of athletic shorts.”

“You could,” she agreed, “but a pair isn’t available at the moment. You’re stuck with this for now.”

“You could cut off the legs and turn the pants into shorts,” he coaxed.

“If you were going to stay a few days, I would, but I suspect you’re not, so I won’t. Now, stop arguing.” She tied the string at the back of his neck then guided him to the nearby bed.

He sank gratefully onto the mattress before he rubbed his face. “Did you bring a razor?”

“Not this trip. Count your blessings for the toothbrush I found. Would you like to sit or lie down?”

“Sit.”

She immediately adjusted the bed to accommodate his wishes then pulled the sheet over his good leg, leaving his injured extremity uncovered while she fluffed his pillows. “We’ll tackle the beard later. You’ve done enough for the moment.”

He hated to admit she was right, but although his spirit was willing, his flesh was weak. He’d been functioning on adrenalin for too long. Now that he’d enjoyed a hot shower, although a much shorter one than he would have liked, he’d crash soon. With any luck, after a rejuvenating nap, his IV would have run its course and he could convince Leah to drive him home, where he’d deal with the proverbial elephant in the room.

“Maybe,” he conceded, fighting to keep his eyes open. “But the beard has to go. It itches.”

“We’ll get to it,” she promised, “but first things first.” She reattached his IV tubing to the port just above his wrist before he recognized his surroundings.

Suspicion flared. Patients weren’t shown to a regular room if they were leaving the hospital in a few hours. “What am I doing here?”

“Jeff ordered IV fluids and antibiotics. Remember?”

“I know that,” he snapped. “Why am I here, instead of back in Emergency?”

Jeff strolled in at that moment, carrying films and a fistful of paper. “You’re here, Gabe, because I’m admitting you for observation.”

“I don’t need observing. I’m fi—”

Jeff held up his hands. “Yes, you’re fine,” he said in a placating tone, “but you could be better and that’s what we’re going to do—make you better. I showed your X-rays to Smithson in Orthopedics and he agrees with me. You suffered a severe sprain to your wrist when you dislocated your shoulder. According to him, your shoulder is okay but he recommends a wrist brace for a few weeks.” He peered over his reading glass with a warning glare, “However, he still wants you to take things easy, so don’t lift anything heavier than a pen for a while.”

Gabe took the films to see for himself. “Fair enough.”

“As for your ribs,” Jeff continued, “they’ll get better on their own, provided you slow down and rest. But you already know that.”

Jeff’s advice fell in line with Gabe’s plans, as he’d hoped it would.

“My main concern,” Jeff continued, “is infection and I want to hit those bugs hard.” He glanced at the IV pole. “I see your antibiotics are running.”

“Thanks to my ever-efficient nurses,” Gabe quipped.

“I’m glad you agree because you’re going to be at their tender mercy for a few days.”

His jaw squared as he shook his head. “No can do. I’m going home.”

Jeff shook his head. “Not a good idea, buddy.”

“Good idea or not, I’m sleeping in my own bed tonight. I can either do it with your permission or I’ll check myself out AMA.” Gabe hated to play the against-medical-advice card against a colleague, but he was home, dammit, and he wasn’t going to postpone his heart-to-heart with Leah another day. He had too much to say and he couldn’t say any of it here where walls were paper-thin and interruptions were commonplace.

“I can’t give you my blessing to leave in a few hours.” Jeff emphasized his statement with a brisk shake of his head. “I honestly can’t.”

“Are you keeping Theresa and Jack?” Gabe demanded.

“No, but, unlike a certain person, they only need good food and rest to recover from their experience,” Jeff said wryly, “not high-powered antibiotics.”

“If the IV is stopping you, I can handle it. Or Leah can do the honors. Just give her the supplies and we’ll take it from there.” Gabe heard her muffled gasp, but ignored it to fix his gaze on his doctor.

Jeff pursed his mouth as his eyes darted between Leah and Gabe. “She could,” he finally agreed, “but you know the dangers of septicemia as well as I do. You belong here where we can monitor you.” He held up his hands to forestall his objections. “At least until the lab gives me preliminary culture results.”

“Sorry. I’ll stay a few hours to finish this IV, but I’m going home tonight.”

After muttering something about physicians being terrible patients, Jeff turned to Leah. “Talk some sense into him, will you?”

She shrugged. “Sorry, but you’re on your own. If he won’t listen to you, he certainly won’t listen to me.”

Her matter-of-fact tone surprised Gabe. Did she really believe that he didn’t value her opinion? And yet, in hindsight, he could understand how she might feel that way. After they’d lost their son and their dreams of having a child of their own, he’d wanted to do something to make things right again. When the opportunity to adopt a baby had literally fallen into his lap, he’d gone full-steam ahead over her halfhearted objections when he should have allowed Leah—and himself—more time to deal with their first loss. In the end, they’d had two losses to cope with and clearly hadn’t done well with either.

Regardless, he’d had weeks to reflect on their relationship and if he wanted to prove to her that he was giving his marriage and her opinions top priority, then this was his opportunity.

“I’m listening now,” he pointed out, avoiding references to the past in order to avoid a potential argument. “What do you suggest I do?”

“Follow your doctor’s instructions,” she said bluntly. “Jeff isn’t being unreasonable.”

No, Jeff wasn’t, but Gabe hated being tethered to a hospital bed when Leah was free to go about her business. If his mental radar was working correctly, her “business” probably involved his own physician.

“You also,” she continued, “aren’t in a position to fend for yourself. Taking a shower completely wore you out. How will you function on your own?”

“I’ll manage,” he said, unwilling to spring his plan on her just yet.

Now she looked exasperated. “Fine. Do whatever you want, regardless of what your doctor or anyone else suggests. Frankly, with your attitude, I’m surprised you bothered coming to the hospital at all for medical attention.”

Her comment struck home as he realized she was right. He had gotten to the point where he assessed a situation and made a decision without asking for advice or input, and if any was given contrary to his opinion, he didn’t follow it.

The question was, had he always been that way? He truly didn’t think so. At one time he hadn’t been able to wait to share everything in his day with her and he hadn’t made any plans without consulting her first, but now that he thought about it, that aspect of their life had changed after they’d lost both babies. Granted, the second child hadn’t died, but when the birth mother had taken her daughter home instead of putting her in their care, it had felt the same.

Conversation had dwindled when she’d been grieving and although he’d tried to get his feelings out in the open, he’d soon given up. Leah’s sorrow had been so overwhelming he hadn’t wanted to burden her with his own pain, so he’d bottled his emotions and carried on.

Instead of coping together, they’d coped separately. He’d focused on his job and expanding the foundation’s services while she’d flung herself first into a remodeling project and then into her job at the hospital. Eventually, their diverging interests had allowed them to drift apart until their marriage had reached breaking point.

He should have done things differently but he hadn’t. Fate, however, had given him another chance and he was determined to make the most of it. The first step, however, was to prove that he was listening and valuing her opinion, even if her opinion conflicted with his own wishes.

“If you want me to stay, then I’ll stay, but only on an outpatient basis until tomorrow morning,” he qualified.

“I can live with that,” Jeff immediately agreed, as if he realized this compromise wouldn’t remain on the table for long.

Gabe continued, “And only if Leah is my nurse. My private nurse.”

Leah’s jaw dropped, plainly surprised he’d included her as part of his conditional surrender. A moment later, her expression cleared. “I cover the ED, not this ward,” she pointed out, somewhat smugly.

He steadily met his colleague’s gaze. “Jeff?”

The other physician pressed his lips together, then nodded. “If she’s what it will take to keep you in that bed, I’ll work it out,” he promised.

Leah’s jaw immediately closed with a decided snap, her eyes flashing fire. It was a small victory and one that she clearly didn’t support, so Gabe forced himself not to smile. As compromises went, he’d gained more than he’d expected, although it was less than he’d wanted. What really felt good, though, was finally seeing Leah with her normal spark instead of appearing as if all the life had been sucked out of her.

“Fine,” she said a trifle waspishly, “but I’m adding a condition, too. You’ll stay until he releases you.”

“Okay, but he will release me tomorrow morning.” He glanced at his colleague. “Won’t you, Jeff?”

Jeff appeared more interested in the tug-of-war between Leah and Gabe than in Gabe’s capitulation. “If nothing horrible shows up on your cultures and you don’t spike any fevers, then you have my word you’ll be out of here in twenty-four hours.”

Gabe leaned his head against the pillows, too exhausted to complain about how their final agreement had as many exemptions as a bill before Congress. He’d face those scenarios when and if he had to. “I want to know everything the minute you do.”

“I wouldn’t expect otherwise.” Jeff addressed Leah. “In the meantime, good luck with your patient.”

Gabe tried not to be jealous of how easily she smiled at his colleague—his divorced, single colleague—the same divorced colleague who’d probably been more than happy to comfort Leah during the past year, especially during the month after he’d been presumed dead. However, jealousy was a good thing, he decided, because it gave him added incentive to win her back again.

“Not to worry,” she said airily. “If he misbehaves, I have a sedative with his name on it.”

“I’d rather eat a steak, medium-well, with baked potato,” Gabe said as he eyed the tray of food Leah had organized from the unit’s kitchenette.

A steaming bowl of chicken broth with assorted crackers, strawberry and lime gelatin squares, and chocolate pudding were the result of her raid.

“Maybe you’ll get those for dinner tonight,” Leah said lightly, knowing he wouldn’t. As much as she’d like to reverse his weight loss as quickly as possible, his digestive system needed to acclimate first. “This is just a snack until then.”

“There’s nothing here for a man to sink his teeth into.”

She ignored his grumbling as she studied his skin tone with clinical detachment. Now that he’d scraped off his beard with the disposable razor she’d provided, he was paler than she’d like. His face, although still handsome with his straight nose and strong chin, was thinner and his cheekbones more pronounced than the last time she’d seen him.

“For good reason,” she answered. “You hardly have the strength to chew.”

“I can find the energy if it’s worth my while,” he said. “A cheeseburger, fries and a milkshake would—”

“Come up as fast as they went down. Would you rather hug the toilet for a few hours? Now, just try this,” she wheedled. “If your system can handle this without any problems, I’ll personally deliver a greasy cheeseburger from your favorite fast-food restaurant later on.”

His sigh was loud enough to be heard in the hallway, but he picked up a package of crackers. After struggling unsuccessfully to tear the Cellophane, he finally gave up and tossed the packet of crumbs onto the tray in disgust.

“Would you like me to open it?” she asked, reaching for the mangled package.

Hating to admit his weakness, he grimaced. “I changed my mind. A fellow can do that, can’t he?”

“Of course you can,” she soothed, aware of the hit the tiny packet had leveled against his dignity. It was also clear that her time in the kitchen would be wasted if she didn’t take matters into her own hands, so she picked up the spoon and began feeding him soup.

“I can do this myself,” he protested between swallows.

She doubted it. He was clearly exhausted from the poking and prodding, the round of X-rays and his stint in the shower, but for some reason he refused to sleep. Maybe a full stomach would work for him as well as it did for babies.

“I know,” she agreed, “but I’m trying to earn my pay. I am your nurse, remember?”

It still rankled how Jeff had marched into the nursing vice president’s office and when he’d come out again, it was official. Leah was assigned to one patient and one patient only—Gabriel Montgomery.

“This is all so pointless,” she had railed at the emergency physician. “Gabe doesn’t need nursing care. He only needs someone to fetch and carry and help him in and out of bed, and anyone can do that. He doesn’t need me and I can’t believe you agreed to this. We have a date coming up!”

“I did it because of our date,” Jeff had told her kindly. “You’ve been riding an emotional roller coaster for the past few weeks. Now that he’s back, you need to rethink exactly what you want—”

“I know what I want,” she’d interrupted.

“You think you know what you want,” he’d corrected, “but having Gabe return from the dead changes everything.”

“It doesn’t,” she’d insisted, trying to convince herself as much as him.

Jeff had smiled benevolently at her. “It may not, but you owe it to yourself, and to me, to be absolutely certain of what you’re looking for in a relationship. But I’ll be honest,” he’d said as he’d squeezed her shoulder. “As much as I respect Gabe, I won’t be rooting for him.”

And so she’d accepted the inevitable, even though she believed her skills were being wasted and that she knew her own mind when it came to her broken marriage.

Yet, after it had taken all of her concentration to reel her thoughts in far enough to figure out the microwave controls to heat his broth, she had to admit that perhaps she shouldn’t be working in the ED right now. While she felt guilty over leaving her department short-handed, she shuddered to think of how ineffective she’d be in handling a trauma victim when a life hung in the balance. To her utter disgust, feeding Gabe seemed to be the only task her jumbled mind could handle.

“Are you ready to try the gelatin?” she asked, spooning a red cube into his mouth before he could refuse.

He swallowed. “Do you work with Jeff often?”

“Usually. Like I said, I normally work in Emergency.”

His brow furrowed. “Don’t PRN nurses work everywhere in the hospital?”

She spooned another bite into his mouth. “Some do, some don’t. I haven’t since I completed my advanced trauma nursing coursework six months ago.”

His brow furrowed. “I didn’t know that.”

“You didn’t notice the nursing textbooks on the coffee table before I moved out?”

“I did, but I thought you were boning up because you’d accepted this relief position.”

“I was. Then I decided to take the next step.” She hesitated, realizing that while he could have asked, she also should have volunteered the information. Now she wondered if the reason she hadn’t said anything had been because she’d wanted him to notice and express an interest in what she was doing. And when he hadn’t, she’d counted it as a strike against him.

“I should have told you,” she said.

He shrugged. “We both had problems with communication, didn’t we?”

At least he wasn’t putting the burden all on her and if he could be magnanimous, so could she. “To be fair,” she began slowly, “some of your staff had quit and you were trying to take up the slack. You had larger problems than wondering why textbooks had appeared on the table. More gelatin?”

He shook his head, his gaze intent. “Are you working full time?”

“Officially, no. Unofficially, yes, but I’m not reaping the benefits,” she said ruefully. “However, the director of nursing told me yesterday that the next available position will be mine.” She shoved another gelatin cube in his mouth.

He chewed, swallowed, then surprised her with his next question. “How was your cousin’s wedding?”

She froze. “You knew about Angela’s wedding?”

“She sent me an invitation. I would have gone, but I didn’t want to make the day awkward for you. Things will be different, though, for your next family function.”

Different?”Excuse me?”

“I want us to save our marriage, Leah. To fix what went wrong with our relationship.”

At one time those were words she’d dreamt he would say, but too much time had passed. He was asking for the impossible.

“I know you went through a traumatic experience,” she said slowly, “and as a result you want to right the perceived wrongs in your life as part of whatever foxhole conversion you experienced, but what happened to us—to me—can’t be fixed.”

“It can,” he insisted.

“Not if our relationship is tied to my medical history.”

“It isn’t.”

She raised an eyebrow because, to her, it was. “Oh?”

“It never was.”

She eyed him carefully. “Maybe I should have Jeff order a CT scan because I think you suffered a concussion. In case you’ve forgotten, our relationship began its downhill slope when I lost Andrew and any chance for more children.”

“It may have, but we can turn our life around. Children or not, we can make our marriage into whatever we want it to be.”

His fierce determination was almost contagious, but his rhetoric didn’t change one important fact. This man, who should have gone into pediatrics because he loved little people, was destined to remain childless because she refused to risk another adoptive mother changing her mind in the final hour. And he’d made it quite plain over the years that his biggest wish was to fill his house with children—children she couldn’t give him, whether they were his or someone else’s.

Neither did his sincerity change the fact that his work at the foundation was probably far more rewarding than simply coming home to her each night. And, yes, she could join him on his trips as she had when they were first married and she’d rearranged her hospital schedule, but deep down she was a homebody while he was a traveler. Eventually, the difference would become an issue again.

“For what it’s worth, I am glad you’re back,” she said simply, “but now isn’t the time to discuss what went wrong in our life.” She rose to push his bedside table away. “Your only concern should be to give yourself time to heal.”

He frowned, clearly not liking her response. “I can’t believe you’re giving up on us so easily.”