Fated Love Page 10

  Arly nodded solemnly. “I had that happen once when I fell off a swing.” She turned to Honor, who knelt beside Quinn. “She’ll be okay, right, Mommy?”

  “Yes, honey. Go with Robin now,” Honor said gently. As soon as the children were out of earshot, Honor leaned close to Quinn, her fingers on the pulse in Quinn’s neck. Racing, but strong. “Tell me where you’re hurt.”

  “Shoulder,” Quinn gasped. “Dislocated. Oh God, Honor...it hurts.”

  “Did you injure your ribs? Your back?” Honor blocked out everything except what needed to be done. She blocked out the harsh sounds of pain, the labored breathing, and the wash of sweat that dampened Quinn’s pale face. She buried the fear that had lanced through her when she’d seen Quinn fall and lie still. “Any numbness anywhere? Quinn? Is your neck all right?”

  “Nothing else. Just the...shoulder.”

  Honor did a cursory neurologic exam, checking for movement in all four extremities and lifting each lid to check Quinn’s pupils. Her blue eyes were dilated and black with pain. Oh baby. I’m so sorry.

  Linda dropped to her knees on the other side of Quinn. “God, what happened? Should I call an ambulance?”

  “Yes,” Honor said sharply. Seeing Quinn in pain was making her ill. She gritted her teeth and focused. “I’ll stay with her. Go call.”

  “No,” Quinn rasped. She tried to turn onto her back, but that caused another spear of pain to shoot down her arm. She groaned. “Old injury. Honor...you can put it back in.”

  Honor shook her head. “We still need to go to the ER. I’ll need to sedate you for the reduction. Linda, call 91—”

  “It’ll go...in easy. Please just do it.” Quinn groaned again, and her stomach heaved. She didn’t want to vomit, but she couldn’t stand it much longer. “Please. Please...can’t wait. So bad.”

  Linda looked at her friend across Quinn’s prone form. “She’s really hurting, Honor. One try?”

  For a second, Honor hesitated. Medical treatment in the field was always risky. On the other hand, she trusted Quinn to know her own injuries, and a dislocation was excruciatingly painful until the joint was relocated. Quinn’s eyes were shut tightly, her shirt soaked through with sweat, and her every breath was a moan. “One try. If we don’t get it, that’s it.”

  Linda nodded. “Whatever you say. Just tell me what you need.”

  Gently, Honor placed her hand on Quinn’s right shoulder and murmured, “We’re going to turn you over now, Quinn.”

  “Okay.” She clamped her jaws tightly against a scream.

  Together, Honor and Linda carefully maneuvered Quinn onto her back. Quinn’s left arm hung limply by her side, projecting at an odd angle. The shoulder prominence was depressed, the contour abnormal. An unnatural bulge protruded from just below the normal joint, distorting her upper arm. The end of the upper arm bone had slipped out of the cuplike fossa formed by the collarbone, the shoulder blade, and the surrounding muscles. The unnatural pressure and strain on the ligaments and nerves around the joint caused severe pain. If left unreduced for long, permanent nerve injury could occur.

  “Linda,” Honor instructed, her expression neutral and her eyes sharply focused on Quinn’s face. “Brace your legs against her side. You’re going to have to hold her while I reduce this.” She waited a moment for Linda to get into position. “Quinn, are you sure?”

  Quinn opened her eyes and focused on Honor’s face. A smile flickered for a second. “Yes. Don’t let...the kids see. They’ll be...scared.”

  For a second, Honor’s composure slipped, and she brushed her fingers tenderly through Quinn’s hair. Her voice trembled infinitesimally. “They’re all up at the house. They can’t see. Close your eyes now.”

  Quinn complied, and Honor situated herself so that she could grasp Quinn’s left arm, flex the elbow, and rotate the arm outward until the rounded head of the humerus popped back into the socket. She met Linda’s eyes and nodded. “Hold her.”

  As Honor pulled and twisted, Quinn stiffened and cried out sharply once, then sagged back, gasping. Honor gently placed Quinn’s arm across her midsection and held it there with her palm. She was breathing hard and her stomach was in knots.

  “Quinn? Okay?”

  “Better.” Quinn gave a long shuddering sigh and opened her eyes. This time her smile was stronger. “About a thousand times better. Thank you.”

  “We still need to go into the ER so that I can get an x-ray and do a proper examination. But I’ll drive you in—no ambulance.”

  “It’s not necessary. It’s happened before.”

  “This is not negotiable, Dr. Maguire.” Honor’s face was set. “I have to be sure that you didn’t fracture your clavicle or your humerus, and I need to do a proper neurologic evaluation.”

  “I’m telling you—”

  “And I’m telling you, no exam—you don’t come to work tomorrow.”

  Quinn blew out a breath and tried to sit up. Linda automatically wrapped her arm around Quinn’s shoulders and supported her against her side.

  “Okay,” Quinn said weakly. Her head was spinning. “Can I say goodbye to the kids, please.”

  “Of course.” Honor regarded her tenderly, her quick surge of anger and fear abating. “Can you stand?”

  “I think so.”

  Between them, Linda and Honor got Quinn upright. Honor threaded her arm around Quinn’s waist and took most of her weight. “All right?”

  “Just don’t let go,” Quinn muttered, sweat streaking her face and neck as she cradled her injured arm.

  “I wouldn’t think of it.” Honor’s voice was thick.

  The fiercely tender expression on Honor’s face and the comfort of her body pressed close drove the pain from Quinn’s mind. “Thanks.”

  “That was some move, Quinn,” Honor murmured as they made their way slowly up toward the group of people who were gathered beneath the maple tree.

  “I used to be a lot better at that. Ten years ago.”

  Honor laughed softly. “It still looked good.”

  “Thank God for that. Because I’m very embarrassed.”

  “You have no reason to be.” Unconsciously, Honor held her more tightly. “You have valiant instincts.”

  Robin came up to them then, her face creased with worry. “Jeez, Quinn. Are you okay? Man, that looked rough.”

  “Fine, now. I knocked that shoulder out when I was nineteen, and it’s always been hinky. I just landed on it wrong.”

  “You sure you’re okay?” She looked questioningly at Honor and Linda.

  “I’m going to check her over, but she seems okay,” Honor assured her.

  Quinn grinned weakly at Robin. “Is this gonna cost me my new job?”

  For a second, Robin looked confused, and then she burst out laughing. “Hell, no. It takes more than a dislocated shoulder for me to fire a coach. Now, if you make the goalie cry, that’s a different story.”

  Quinn grinned. “Not to worry. I’ll go easy.”

  After assuring Arly and the other children that she was fine, Quinn allowed Honor to help her to the car and buckle her into the front seat. As they headed to the emergency room, she wondered what she was going to do when it came time for Honor to examine her.

  Chapter Ten

  Honor glanced over at Quinn as she pulled into the doctors’ section of the ER parking lot. Quinn, silent for the entire ride, sat with her head back and her eyes closed. Carefully, Honor brought the car to a stop and shut off the engine. She turned in her seat and rested her fingers on Quinn’s leg.

  “How are you doing?”

  Quinn slowly rolled her head to the side and opened her eyes. “Not too bad. It throbs, but I can handle that. My stomach is in a bit of an uproar, though.”

  Honor nodded sympathetically. “I can imagine. We’ll get you some Compazine once we get inside.”

  “Will you do me a favor?”

  “Of course,” Honor replied, her brows furrowing. “What is it?”

  Quinn sighed. “W
ill you try to make sure that no one sees my records or my films?”

  “I’ll see to it,” Honor said kindly. She appreciated how difficult it was for a medical person to be treated at the institution where they worked. Curiosity was a normal human trait, and everyone wanted the details whenever someone who worked in the hospital was ill or injured. She rubbed Quinn’s thigh gently. “Let’s get you taken care of. I’ll come around and help you get out.”

  “I think I can—”

  “Quinn, sit still,” Honor instructed sharply when Quinn reached for the door handle.

  “No choice,” Quinn gasped, feeling weaker than she had anticipated, her stomach roiling as the pain unexpectedly escalated and shot through her chest.

  A moment later, Honor opened the car door, released Quinn’s seat belt, and bent down to slide her arm behind Quinn’s back. “Put your good arm around my shoulder.”

  “I’m heavier than I look,” Quinn warned, as Honor lifted.

  “I’m stronger than I look. Now lean on me.”

  Quinn got her legs under her and pushed upright, gripping Honor’s shoulder tightly with her functioning hand. She swayed unsteadily. “Jesus, my legs aren’t working quite right.”

  “Any weakness or paresthesias?” Honor questioned, a slight edge of panic in her voice. Oh my God, don’t tell me I missed a cord injury! I should have called the EMTs. I should have used a backboar—

  “No, nothing like that,” Quinn said firmly. Sensing what worried Honor, she rubbed her hand comfortingly over Honor’s arm. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. My legs just feel a little rubbery.”

  “You’re sure? Because I can get a wheelchair out here in just a second.”

  “I’m sure. It’s just my shoulder, Honor. I’m certain of it.”

  “Let’s just get inside so I can be certain of it, too.”

  As soon as they were through the emergency room doors, Honor grabbed one of the wheelchairs lined up inside and pulled it toward them. “Here, sit down and I’ll take you right into one of the examining rooms. Do you happen to have your insurance card?”

  Quinn shook her head. “Not the new one from PMC. I didn’t get that yet. I can give you my New York insurance information, though.”

  “Fine. I want to get you squared away first. We can give all that info to the clerk later.”

  “You’re the boss.”

  As they spoke, Honor guided the chair efficiently through the hallways, maneuvering around equipment and stretchers, and nodded to the charge nurse who looked up in surprise as they passed the nurses’ station. In response to the inquisitive glance, Honor said, “Page the x-ray technician for me, will you, Nancy?”

  “Okay, Dr. Blake,” the nurse called after them. “You need me for anything else?”

  “I’ll let you know. Thanks.”

  Honor pulled the curtain aside, slid the chair into the cubicle, set the small hand brake, and walked around to the front to help Quinn stand. She reached down at the same time as Quinn pushed up, and they ended up nearly touching. As if it were the most natural thing in the world to do, Honor threaded her arms around Quinn’s waist and moved closer. At the same time, Quinn’s right arm went around Honor’s shoulders, and Honor felt Quinn’s fingers brush through the hair at the base of her neck. Quinn’s breasts nestled against hers, and their bodies melted effortlessly together.

  They were almost the same height, and Honor’s body fit flawlessly against Quinn’s. In the brief second before she had time to react, before her rational mind could protest, she had the sensation of perfect rightness, as if being in Quinn Maguire’s arms was destined. She felt Quinn’s heart beat, then her own, and then the two together, point and counterpoint, in perfect harmony. You feel so good. So right. How can that be?

  She stiffened when Quinn’s warm breath fluttered against her neck, and a shiver of heat flickered through her belly. She felt Quinn’s thighs tighten against hers, heard Quinn moan softly, and heat became flame. She wanted to press closer, hungered to fuse her flesh and bones to Quinn’s, and she knew she could not. Must not. Yet even as she sought escape, her body soared.

  Mindful of Quinn’s injury, Honor placed her palms on Quinn’s hips and pushed gently away until their bodies no longer touched. When she spoke, her throat was dry and her voice rough with unexpected longing. “I need you on the exam table. Can you make it?”

  Wordlessly, Quinn nodded, struggling to clear her head and find some semblance of control. What she wanted was for Honor to hold her again. Not because her shoulder hurt, but because she ached in her distant reaches, in places far deeper than flesh. And because she knew that in a few minutes, she would lose any chance of finding solace in Honor’s embrace.

  But she had already put this confession off far too long.

  “Yes, I think I can get up there.” On still-trembling legs, Quinn shifted outside the circle of Honor’s warmth, braced herself with her good hand on the edge of the vinyl-covered examination table, and levered herself up into a sitting position with her legs dangling over the edge. The movement started a new barrage of pain in her shoulder.

  “We’re going to need to take your shirt off.” Honor met Quinn’s gaze steadily, silently acknowledging the intimacy that had just passed between them. “Do you want me to get one of the nurses to help you?”

  Slowly, Quinn shook her head. “No. If you help me, I can get it.”

  “All right.” Honor stepped forward as Quinn spread her legs, allowing Honor close enough to assist. “Pull your shirt out of your jeans.”

  With her right hand, Quinn worked her shirt free of her waistband. “I can’t raise my left arm.”

  “Mmm. I know. We’ll take it slow.” Honor smiled softly. “Let’s get the right one free first, then we’ll work on the left.”

  Nodding, Quinn raised her right arm and shrugged her shoulder down and free of the garment as Honor pulled on the bottom of the sleeve. That left the shirt dangling around Quinn’s neck, angling across her chest and over her injured arm. Quinn suggested, “If you just pull up the bottom, I can get my head free.”

  As the shirt came loose, it became apparent that Quinn wore nothing beneath it. Honor kept her eyes on Quinn’s face as they slowly freed her of the restraining garment. Finally, all that remained was to slip it down and off the injured arm.

  “Just keep your left hand in your lap so we don’t stress the joint, okay?” Honor directed as she worked the polo shirt down Quinn’s arm. As she did, she lowered her eyes to the injured shoulder and stopped abruptly when she saw the fresh three-inch surgical scar a few inches below Quinn’s left collarbone. A slight swelling distended the tissue from there to the upper edge of her breast.

  Honor stared, recognizing but unable to absorb its significance. That can’t be right. She raised her eyes to Quinn’s, whose expression was oddly penitent. “Quinn?”

  “ICD.”

  Implantable cardiac defibrillator. Honor shook her head. “I don’t understand.” How can I not know this? What in God’s name is wrong? Oh, Quinn. No.

  “I—”

  Honor held up a hand and stepped back a pace. “No. I need to do this right.”

  While Quinn stared, Honor leaned over, opened a drawer in the lower portion of the examination table, and lifted out a faded cotton hospital gown. Efficiently, professionally, she finished removing the polo shirt from Quinn’s injured arm and replaced it with the gown. When Quinn was completely covered, Honor regarded her expressionlessly. “I’ll get a chart together. I need to take your medical history.”

  “Honor—”

  “Where’s your insurance information?” Honor concentrated on the routine that was as ingrained and familiar to her as breathing. That way, she didn’t have to think about the device implanted in Quinn’s chest. Or what it meant. “I should take that to admissions so they can get you into the system.”

  “In my wallet.” Quinn reached back, removed her wallet, and balanced it on her knee. After a few seconds, she gave up trying to
extract the card one-handed. Wordlessly, she held the wallet out to Honor. “It’s in there somewhere.”

  Honor sorted through the cards until she found the proper one. Her hands shook.

  “Honor, please. It’s not what you think.”

  “You don’t know what I think,” Honor snapped. Then she drew a long steadying breath, and when she spoke again, her voice was calm. “I’m sorry. I’ll be back in just a minute.”

  Honor stepped outside the cubicle, pulled the curtain closed, and walked several feet down the hall. Then she stopped, leaned her back against the wall, and closed her eyes. A medical problem was the last thing she had imagined. She had thought of drug addiction, alcoholism, sexual misconduct, a breach in ethics. Even though none of those things fit with her experience of Quinn, she had never thought that Quinn might be ill. She couldn’t bear to think of it now, and yet she had to.

  “Dr. Blake?”

  Honor’s eyes snapped open and she straightened. Nancy Hickok, the nurse manager, stared at her curiously, a look of concern on her face. Honor forced a smile.

  “Nancy, can you put a chart together for me, please? And be sure not to leave it lying around where anyone else can see it.”

  “Of course. The x-ray tech said to tell you that she’s just finishing a facial series. She’ll be ready for you in fifteen minutes, if you can wait that long.”

  “Fine.”

  Honor walked out to the admitting area and found the senior admitting officer, a man she had known for many years and whose discretion she trusted implicitly. She handed him Quinn’s insurance card. “Jim, Dr. Maguire needs to be signed in. I want you to do it yourself and then give all the paperwork directly to Nancy.”

  “Sure, Doc.” He looked as if he was about to ask more, but something in Honor’s expression stopped him. “It’ll just take me a second.”

  Five minutes later, Honor stepped back into the examination cubicle with the metal ER chart and all the appropriate paperwork inside. She opened to the history page, uncapped her pen, and looked at Quinn. “You’re twenty-eight?”