The Surgeon's New-Year Wedding Wish

Testosterone, he thought as exhaustion weighted his eyelids. He was a man who’d been celibate for too long and she was a beautiful woman. His response to her had been nothing more than chemistry, plain and simple.

Nothing more.

A gentle, yet insistent patting on his chest caused Quinn to rouse from sleep. He swallowed a groan and groggily opened his eyes, realizing he was not alone.

His six-year old son, Danny, was patting his chest, silently asking him to wake up. He swiped the grit from his eyes and smiled at him. “Good morning, Danny,” he said, hoping but not expecting a response.

Danny grinned, showing a small gap between his two front baby teeth. His son signed the word breakfast and Quinn nodded.

“Yes, I’m hungry for breakfast, too.” He automatically signed the words, even though he knew perfectly well there was nothing wrong with Danny’s ability to hear. Still, if he didn’t practice his signing, he tended to get rusty. “Where’s Auntie D.?”

In the kitchen, making oatmeal, Danny signed in response. She wants to know if you want some, too.

“Sure.” He might have preferred eggs and bacon, but Celeste’s aunt, Delores Newkirk, had been on a major health food regimen lately, so he suspected fried eggs and bacon were not an option. He was so grateful that she’d stepped up to help him with Danny, agreeing not only to taking care of his son during whatever chaotic hours he had to work but also relocating with them from Boston to the tiny town of Cedar Bluff, that he’d decided long ago not to complain. He couldn’t imagine raising his son without the help of the plump, middle-aged godsend, the one member of his wife’s family who didn’t blame him for Celeste’s death, although he certainly understood their feelings. “Just give me a few minutes to shower and I’ll be ready.”

Danny grinned again. Okay, but you’d better hurry ’cause oatmeal tastes bad when it’s cold.

“Right.” He nodded in agreement, swinging his legs out of bed and wishing there was an easy way to mainline caffeine. He needed to blow the cobwebs from his brain. The scent of coffee teased him mercilessly as he made his way to the shower.

Fifteen minutes later, he padded into the kitchen, where Delores was seated at the kitchen table across from Danny. “Good morning, Quinn. Did you have a rough night?”

“Not too bad,” he said with a shrug, making a beeline for the coffeemaker. “Thanks for making breakfast.”

“You came home pretty late,” she commented. Her tone was casual, but the glint in her eye betrayed her interest. “Did you go out after your shift?”

Quinn hid a sigh. Lately, Delores was becoming obsessed with his social life or lack thereof. He was growing weary of her not-so-subtle hints. “No, the night shift physician worked Christmas Eve night, so I split the shift with the day shift doctor to cover the night shift for Christmas night. I stayed until three in the morning and Jadon came in at three.”

“Oh.” She wrinkled her nose in disappointment. Then her expression brightened. “But you’re off the rest of the day, right?”

“Yes, and so are you.” He took a seat next to her at the table and helped himself to the large bowl of oatmeal she’d set out for him. “You’re going down to Chicago for a holiday visit with your sister today, and don’t pretend you’ve forgotten.”

“But I don’t have to go if you need me to stay here,” she said, rising to her feet to refill her coffee mug. “Cynthia would surely understand if Danny needs me to stay.”

“Hardly,” he muttered, unable to imagine his wife’s mother caring one way or the other about the grandson she hadn’t seen in well over a year. Her anger toward Quinn at causing her daughter’s death had unfortunately carried over to his and Celeste’s son. He felt bad for Danny, not himself. “In fact, if you don’t go, she’ll blame me for that, too.”

Delores sighed and nodded. “I guess you’re right. But what about next weekend? Surely you can make some plans to go out next weekend?”

“I’ll think about it,” Quinn said evasively. Next weekend was New Year so it was unlikely he’d make special plans for then, either. He turned toward his son, who was listening intently to their conversation. “So, Danny, what would you like to do today? Are you ready for another video game challenge?”

You didn’t forget about sledding, did you? Danny signed, his eyes widening in alarm.

“Sledding?” Quinn repeated in confusion. He glanced questioningly at Delores.

“The sledding party is later this afternoon,” Delores clarified, doing as Quinn did, signing and talking. She sent Quinn an apologetic glance. “Ah, do you have a sled for him to use?”

“No, but we can run to the store later,” Quinn said. He smiled at his son. “How about we play video games for a while first, then we’ll go buy a sled?”

Danny nodded vigorously. Okay. But you know I always beat you when we play.

Quinn laughed. “Not this time. I’ve been practicing when you’ve been asleep.”

Danny flashed him a pitying look that clearly indicated he didn’t believe him as he slid down from his seat and carried his empty oatmeal bowl over to the sink. Hurry up, he signed before darting into the living room.

“Do you think it’s a good idea to encourage those video games?” Delores asked once Danny had left. “After all, those games aren’t going to encourage him to talk.”

“He’ll talk when he’s ready,” he said, repeating what Dr. Nancy Adams had told him. Nancy was a semiretired speech pathologist who’d graciously agreed to take Danny’s case when Quinn had explained the circumstances around his son’s traumatic muteness. He’d relocated to Cedar Bluff just for the chance to have Danny work with her. Of course, the small-town feel of Cedar Bluff was pretty nice, too. At least so far the kids in Danny’s first-grade class hadn’t begun to ridicule him.

“I hope you’re right,” Delores said, before getting up from the table. “I guess I’ll get ready to go visit my sister, unless you’ve changed your mind?”

“Go on, you deserve some time away from here,” he urged.

Delores left him to finish his oatmeal in peace. As he enjoyed the maple and brown sugar flavor he thought about Danny. He trusted Nancy’s knowledge and skill, yet at the same time he’d begun to despair that his son would ever speak again. The kids his age welcomed him into their group now, but what would happen in a few years? Kids could be incredibly cruel, and generally those who were “different” took the brunt of the teasing.

He couldn’t bear the thought of Danny becoming ostracized by the other kids because of his self-imposed silence.

With a weary sigh, he shoved the troubling thoughts aside, finished his breakfast and stood, cleaning up the mess from their meal before going to join his son in the video game challenge.

All he could do for now was to wait and see. Hopefully, Dr. Adams would find the key to unlock Danny’s voice.

That afternoon was bright and sunny, perfect weather for sledding, and Quinn found himself standing awkwardly next to several other parents at the Cedar Bluff sledding hill. Since he was still relatively new to the area, and worked odd hours, he didn’t know most of them, not even by sight, especially because Delores was the one who picked up Danny from school. The only familiar face belonged to Seth Taylor, one of the emergency department attending physicians.

Quinn tended to avoid small talk, hating having to answer all the questions that invariably followed the moment people realized Danny was mute. He generally used his bluntness to keep people away, not wanting his personal life to become the source of small-town gossip.

Instead, he kept his eye on his son. Danny was having a great time, sledding down the hill in his new plastic bright blue sled. Quinn noticed that two of the boys, Ben Germaine, who was Seth’s fiancée’s son, and Charlie Atkins, another boy in their class, acted very friendly toward Danny, as if they didn’t care about his lack of speech.

“Come on, Danny. Let’s ride together!” Charlie said excitedly.

Danny eagerly nodded and climbed onto his blue sled, moving up to the front and indicating with gestures for Charlie to climb on the back. The sound of Charlie’s young, carefree laughter rang through the air as they started down the hill.

A slight smile tugged at the corners of Quinn’s mouth as he gazed after the boys. It was times like this that he was glad he’d made the move to Cedar Bluff. He was grateful that Danny had already found some friends. Maybe Cedar Bluff didn’t have the same lure for adults as Boston, but as far as he was concerned Danny’s wellbeing was all that mattered.

He frowned, though, when Danny’s blue sled veered off course, turning sharply to the right, heading directly toward a line of trees.

“Danny!” he shouted, through cupped hands, taking several steps forward. “Watch where you’re going!”

He couldn’t tell what happened. It seemed as if the boys were somehow tangled up on the sled and not steering at all because the lightweight plastic sled gathered speed as it shot down the slippery slope toward a large oak tree.

“Danny!” Quinn shouted again, running down the hill toward his son, feeling helpless when he realized he wasn’t going to make it in time. “Danny!”

Too late. The sled hit the tree with enough force to knock both boys sprawling into the snow.

Leila finished her lunch in the ED staff break room and leaned back against the sofa cushions, momentarily closing her eyes. Only another twenty-four hours and her long weekend call rotation would be over. At least today should be relatively quiet—it wasn’t exactly a party night of the week, compared to Friday and Saturday. The holiday weekend couldn’t end soon enough. She was exhausted, the steady stream of patients had been unusual considering it was Christmas.

She sighed, thinking she would just rest for a few more minutes. What seemed like a nanosecond later, a hand on her shoulder caused her to jerk upright, and she realized Jadon Reichert, the ED attending physician on duty, was trying to wake her up.

“What?” she asked groggily, trying to shake off her lethargy. Disoriented, she blinked away her blurred vision to focus on the large wall clock, noting with shock that she’d slept for more than an hour and a half.

“Leila? Sorry to bother you but we have two peds traumas on the way in,” Jadon said, his expression apologetic for needing to rouse her.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she muttered, pushing herself upright.

“Hey, no problem,” Jadon said with a wry grin. “I’d cover the rest of your shift for you, but I think hospital administration might frown on me for performing surgery without the proper credentials.”

She had to chuckle as she rose to her feet. “Yes, they probably would. Okay, I’m really awake now. What’s coming in? Did I hear you say we have two peds traumas?”

Jadon’s smile faded, his gaze turning serious. “Two young boys hit a tree while sledding at Cedar Bluff Park.”

Leila frowned, her stomach clenching in warning. This was one of the reasons she was glad she’d decided not to have kids. “Please tell me one of them isn’t Ben Germaine.”

“No, not this time,” Jadon assured her. “Although it sounds as if Seth Taylor was on the scene, along with Quinn.”

Quinn? How odd. But she didn’t give the coincidence more than a passing thought.

“Thank heavens Ben wasn’t involved.” Ben was Kylie and Seth’s son and the boy tended to be a bit accident prone. Earlier that month, he’d slipped on the rocks and tumbled into the icy water of Lake Michigan. Jadon’s new fiancée, Alyssa, had fallen in herself, when trying to save him. She’d been pregnant at the time, seven and a half months along with twins. Leila had been there when they’d been brought in and it was touch and go for a while. Thankfully, everyone was fine now, including Jadon and Alyssa’s twin girls, Grace and Gretchen, born several weeks early. The entire incident had been very scary, touching many of the Cedar Bluff staff members who’d been concerned when one of their own had been injured.

Technically, Ben was Kylie’s son, but it was clear from Seth’s actions that he already considered the boy to be his own. Seth and Kylie were getting married next weekend, on New Year’s Eve.

She envied their happiness, although reminded herself that she’d been lucky to have loved a wonderful man like George. George had understood and respected her hesitancy to have children, considering she didn’t know anything about her heritage. Heaven knew what genes she’d be passing on. She missed him, and tried to be grateful for the few months they’d shared together.

Pushing the sorrows of the past aside, Leila was going to ask more details about their young patients, but in that moment both their pagers went off.

“They’re here,” he said, leaving the staff break room in a rush to get out to the trauma room. Leila followed close on his heels, her previous exhaustion quickly submerged beneath a fresh wave of adrenaline.

“Danny is the more seriously injured of the two,” Kylie Germaine was saying, as the gurneys were wheeled in. Leila was surprised to see Quinn Torres walking on the opposite side of the gurney from Kylie, hanging on to the boy’s hand. What on earth had he been doing on the sledding hill? “Danny is six years old, weighs an estimated thirty pounds and has sustained a head injury and possible fractured left tibia.”

“And what about the second victim?” Leila asked, not willing to take only the paramedic’s word about which patient was worse, no matter how much she liked and trusted Kylie. She needed to make her own judgment.

Quinn opened his mouth, but Kylie put a hand on his arm and continued, not giving him the chance to interrupt.

“Charlie Atkins is also six years old, also estimated to be about thirty pounds and he doesn’t seem to have any obvious signs of injury,” Kylie informed them. “Charlie’s vitals are stable. Danny Torres was in the front of the sled and took the brunt of the force when they hit the tree.”

Danny Torres? Leila suppressed a spurt of surprise in discovering Quinn had a son. She never would have guessed him to be a father. Did Quinn have a wife, too?

And why did she care?

Her gaze centered on the boy. Danny was crying, but not making much noise, his sobs choked as if he was afraid to make any sound. Her heart melted in empathy. She crossed over to him, trying to ignore Quinn’s sharp, penetrating gaze.

“Hi, Danny, my name is Dr. Leila and I’m here to help make you feel better.” She gave Danny her best reassuring smile and the boy struggled to stop crying, seemingly listening to her soft voice. “You’re being very brave, Danny. I know you’re hurt. The nurse is going to give you something to take away your pain, but first I need to ask you a few questions. Can you tell me exactly where it hurts the most? Which part of your body hurts the most?”

Danny pointed to his left leg and looked up at his father, tears continuing to trickle silently down his ruddy cheeks.

“No, Danny can’t tell you where it hurts,” Quinn said in a low, rough voice full of parental concern. “He doesn’t talk, but he does know sign language. I’ll translate for him.”

Chapter Three

“DANNY doesn’t talk?” Leila said with a frown. That didn’t make sense, since Danny seemed to hear her just fine. Unless he was extremely skilled at lip-reading? “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize he was deaf.”

“He’s not deaf,” Quinn said in a clipped, irritated tone. “He just doesn’t talk.” Quinn’s jaw was tense as if he didn’t like having to explain his son’s situation. He turned toward the boy and his voice became gentle. “Danny, Dr. Ross wants to know where you hurt. Tell us exactly what hurts you, okay?”

Danny pointed to his left leg and his forehead. He had the same jet-black hair as his father, and the same dark compelling eyes. The resemblance between father and son was striking.

“What about your stomach, Danny?” Leila persisted. “Does your stomach hurt? Or maybe your ribs?”

Danny shook his head, big, fat tears trickling down his cheeks. For some reason, those silent tears bothered her more than if he’d been wailing loudly. Kylie had stabilized his left lower leg, containing his possible fracture within an inflatable boot, but for the moment she was more concerned about the extent of his head injury. “Okay, Danny, I’m going to examine you for a minute here. I’m going to flash a small light into your eyes, okay? Can you look over my shoulder at the wall behind me?”

Danny nodded and complied with her request. His pupils were unequal but did react to light. “Any blurred vision, Danny? Or ringing in your ears? Do you feel sick to your stomach?”

Quinn’s son shook his head to all her questions.

She could feel Quinn’s intense gaze and couldn’t help wondering if he didn’t trust her judgment. At least, not when it came to his son.

“Danny, can you tell me where you are?” To this point, she’d given him all yes or no questions, but now she needed to really assess his brain function. “What is this place?”

“Hospital,” Quinn said when Danny made a few graceful gestures with his small hands. “The hospital where my dad works.”

“Good. Now, tell me which holiday we just had?”

For a moment the boy’s forehead furrowed, as if he had to think about her question.

She glanced at Quinn. “Do you celebrate the holiday?”

Quinn nodded. “Which holiday did we just have, Danny?” he asked, signing the question at the same time.

“Christmas,” Quinn said when Danny responded by signing again. “He says he received a games console for Christmas.”

“Ah, I bet that’s fun. I heard Ben Germaine got one, too. Do you let your dad play with it or is it only for kids?” she asked.

For the first time, a smile broke through on Danny’s young face. He nodded, his fingers flew again and she found herself wishing she knew sign language herself, so she could communicate better with the boy directly, without needing Quinn.

“Yes, he lets me play so that he can win,” Quinn translated.

She laughed. “Good for you, Danny. I’d love to watch you beat your dad. Now, is it okay if I listen to your heart and lungs?”

Danny nodded, and she quickly auscultated his heart, lungs and stomach before straightening to glance at Quinn.

“He certainly seems stable, but with his pupils being slightly unequal in size, I’d like to get a CT scan of his head, just to make sure we’re not missing anything more serious. We can also get the X-rays of his leg at the same time. I’d like to have the films ready before I call the orthopedic surgeon on call to take a look at his leg.”

“All right,” Quinn said, giving his consent. “I’d like to go with him to the radiology department.”

“Of course. And we’ll give him something for pain, too, since I’m sure his leg will be hurting once they take that boot off.” For an awkward moment she hesitated, wondering if she should ask about Danny’s mother or not. Quinn wasn’t exactly forthcoming about his personal life. He was dressed casually, in a pair of black jeans and a black sweater, and she’d noticed he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, which didn’t necessarily mean a whole lot these days. “Is there…anyone else you’d like us to notify?”

“No.” Quinn’s response was blunt.

Danny was frowning and he tugged on his father’s arm to get his attention. The boy signed a question. She watched with a puzzled frown, wondering what was wrong.

“If I call Auntie D., she’ll cut her visit short,” Quinn said to Danny’s silent question. She noticed Quinn signed and spoke to Danny at the same time, regardless of the fact that Danny could hear. “I’ll call her later on to let her know what happened, okay?”

“Auntie D.?” Leila repeated, knowing full well she was poking her nose into his personal business yet unable to help herself.

Quinn hesitated, as if he might not answer, but then said, “Danny’s caregiver. She’s really Danny’s greataunt, she helps look after Danny while I’m at work.”

“I see.” So there was an Auntie D. in the picture, but no mother. She wanted to ask more, but this wasn’t the time as she still needed to call Radiology to get the CT scan and X-rays, and check out her other patient. “Give me a few minutes to get the radiology exams ordered.”

When she’d finished making all the arrangements, she crossed over to where Jadon was examining Charlie. “How is he?”

“Fine. I can’t find any major signs of injury other than maybe a sprained wrist.”

“Great.” She smiled at Charlie. “Guess you’re pretty lucky, huh? At least you won’t be stuck in a cast, like Danny will be.”

Charlie frowned at the news. “I think my wrist needs a cast, too,” he said in a serious tone, holding up his injured wrist. “It hurts really, really bad.”

“Hmm.” She hid a smile and pretended to consider his words as she gently manipulated his wrist. “We could put an immobilizer on for a few days, it’s not as bulky as a cast but it should work to keep the pain and swelling down. But that means you won’t be able to play any video games.”

“No video games?” Charlie’s eyes widened comically as he realized the impact of his request.

“Nope.” She took a small wrist immobilizer from the cart even though they generally didn’t like to use them because some exercise was good for mildly injured joints, but she wasn’t worried because she suspected this particular immobilizer wouldn’t last on Charlie’s wrist for very long anyway. She placed it over his sore wrist. “Now, you should wear this during the day, but once your wrist starts to feel better, you can take it off.”

“Okay.” Charlie seemed satisfied with the compromise. His mother rushed in and he proudly held up his wrist. “Mom, I got a sprain!”

“A sprain? Let me see.” The woman examined his wrist, then put a hand on her son’s head, checking for other signs of the sledding crash. She gave Leila a harried glance. “Does he have any other injuries? Is he really all right?”

“Yes, he’s fine.” Leila gave her a reassuring smile. “And he can take off the immobilizer once his wrist begins to feel better or once he’s tired of wearing it. You’re just in time as he’s all ready to be discharged home.”

“Thank heavens,” Charlie’s mother muttered, giving him a quick hug. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, do you hear me?” she said to her son.

“I won’t. But can I see Danny before I go?”

Leila glanced over to where Quinn and Danny were still waiting to head over to the radiology department. “Yes, I’m sure Danny wouldn’t mind if you went over to say goodbye.”

Charlie scrambled down from the gurney with a guiding hand from his mother and went over to his friend. Danny didn’t speak and Charlie didn’t know sign language, but it was clear to her that the boys still managed to communicate with each other just fine between Charlie’s words and Danny’s gestures.

Moments later, the transport team came to pick up Danny for his tests.

“Let’s get this place cleared up. We’ll put Danny in a regular room in the arena when he gets back,” Leila said to Amy, the nurse in charge for the day.

“Okay. What do you think is wrong with Danny that he won’t talk?” Amy asked, as she began to clear the area.

“I don’t know and it’s not any of our business one way or the other,” Leila said in a tone meant to squash the rumor mill. She headed over to the nearest workstation to finish documenting Danny’s assessment.

Although as she completed the necessary paperwork, she couldn’t help wondering the same thing. Why on earth didn’t Danny talk? Especially if he could hear and understand perfectly well?

Since Quinn had purposefully kept quiet about Danny’s situation, she figured he wasn’t going to tell her just to satisfy her idle curiosity.

It was an hour and a half later before Danny’s leg was put in a cast, the X-rays having revealed a clean break in his left tibia. The bright lights had started to bother him, though, so as soon as the boy’s cast had been applied, Quinn had shut down the lights.