“I’ll explain what’s going on to Robin and Linda,” Annie said.

“Okay, thanks.”

Annie turned away and Hollis walked over to the nurses’ station where Honor was charting. “I’m going to take a look at her now, but I want to keep her here and give her a course of mag sulfate.”

“I thought you might,” Honor said, returning the chart to the rack. “I didn’t know Robin called the midwife, by the way. I honestly hadn’t thought of it.”

“No problem.”

“They usually hand off before the patient gets here.”

Hollis shrugged. “We might be seeing Annie’s group here a lot more. Dave wants us to set up something formal between our department and their group.”

“Probably a good idea,” Honor said. “It’ll make things smoother in situations like this.”

“I hope so.” Hollis signaled to one of the ER nurses working Linda’s section of the ER. “Can you set up for a pelvic in ten?”

“Sure, Hollis. Give me five minutes.” The redhead paused. “Nice shiner.”

Hollis grinned. “Thanks.”

When the nurse moved away, Honor said, “So something tells me you don’t agree with Dave about this new interdisciplinary thing with the midwifes.”

Hollis shook her head. “I don’t know how I feel about it. I guess that’s what Annie and I will have to find out.”

“I saw you two talking at the barbecue. It’s good that you know each other. It’ll probably make working together easier.”

“Maybe.” Hollis wasn’t sure she could call her relationship with Annie personal. It had been so long since she’d had any kind of a relationship with a woman, she wasn’t sure what one felt like anymore. She was a little out of practice. But she didn’t need to worry about that with Annie. They weren’t going in that direction.

“I’ll call the pharmacy for the IV meds,” Honor said. “If you need anything else, let me know. You’re not going to admit her right now?”

“No, I think we can treat her down here for now. Give me a call if things change, though.”

“Of course.”

Hollis headed back toward Linda’s room. She wondered how long Annie would stay. She was supposed to give a student lecture—she looked over her shoulder at the big plain-faced clock on the wall—in ten minutes. She’d be late. They wouldn’t have a chance to talk, and she wanted to. She didn’t want Annie leaving angry or upset when she might not see her again for days. The wait since Sunday had been distracting enough. She slipped back into the cubicle.

“It’ll just be a minute.”

“Robin,” Annie said, moving toward the hall, “call me if you need anything when Linda gets home.”

“Annie, wait,” Linda called. “Could you stay? Just until—”

“Of course.” Annie glanced at Hollis.

“Definitely,” Hollis said. “We all need to be in the loop.”

“Thanks,” Annie said quietly.

The nurse rolled in an instrument stand with a sterile pack on top. She smiled at Linda. “Don’t worry, Linds—you’ve got the best looking after you.”

Linda looked from Hollis to Annie. “I know.”

*

While Hollis and Annie looked after Linda, Honor called down the order for the mag sulfate and went to check on Quinn and the motorcycle patient. The trauma bay was the usual scene of chaos. X-ray technicians scurried about getting portable films, anesthesia and respiratory therapy were assessing the airway and setting up the portable ventilator, nurses were drawing blood and inserting catheters, and Quinn was directing all of that as she examined the girl nearly buried by instruments and personnel. Honor pulled on a cover gown, cap, and mask and worked her way through the group around the bed to Quinn’s side. “How does it look?”

“She needs a thoracotomy—all that blood’s probably due to a lacerated lung and pulmonary vessels. Head injury is severe—we’re waiting on neurosurgery to put in an intracranial bolt to monitor her pressure.”

“Ortho?”

“Right here,” a deep male voice said from nearby.

“Is the OR ready for you?” Honor asked.

“They’re on standby.” Quinn stepped away from the table. “How’s Linda?”

“Hollis is with her now. She’s stable, but Hollis wants to give her a course of mag sulfate just to be sure.”

“Robin here?”

“Yes, she just got here.”

“You okay?”

Honor smiled, gazing into Quinn’s blue eyes above the surgical mask that covered the lower part of her face. That Quinn could soothe her, steady her, with just a look still amazed her. She lived on the edge every day, dealing with life-threatening emergencies and making decisions that affected more than just the life of her patient, and she did her job with confidence. But when she was weary, worn down from the pain and suffering that she couldn’t change even when she did her best, Quinn was there, supporting her, loving her. Quinn never failed to give her what she needed even when she didn’t know herself.

“I’m fine.” Honor squeezed Quinn’s arm. “Call me when you’re done in the OR.”

“I will. If you need me, you could always call in to the OR.”

“Don’t worry—just go do what you need to do. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. I’ll see you later.”

Quinn turned away, and Honor watched her work for another minute before heading back to check on Linda. Hollis was just finishing her exam, and a nurse was hanging an intravenous bag of magnesium sulfate. Robin sat on the far side of Linda’s bed on one of the exam stools, holding Linda’s hand. Annie stood next to Robin, halfway between Linda and Hollis.

“How we doing?” Honor asked.

Hollis snapped off her gloves and tossed them into the wastepaper basket. “The cervix is closed. That’s a very good sign. I want to keep it that way.”

“That’s great news.” Honor smiled at Linda. “You heard that, right? Things look good. So I’m going to keep you here for a while so we make extra sure.”

“Okay, thanks,” Linda said softly, her fingers white where they gripped Robin’s hand. “I don’t want to go through this again. Whatever you say.”

“What I say is, you’ll be fine.” Honor leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “I’ll be back to check with you a little later.”

Annie moved closer to the bed. “I’ll check back later too. If you or Robin need anything, call me.”

“I’m so glad you were here,” Linda murmured.

Annie smiled. “Of course I’m here. I’ll talk to you soon.” She glanced at Hollis. “You’ll call me if there’s any change?”

“Of course,” Hollis said, watching the curtain swing closed behind Annie.

Chapter Fifteen

Annie left the ER the way she had come in, turning right at the automatic double doors and following the waist-high red line on the wall marked “visitors” back to the main lobby. She hadn’t been a visitor in the ER, but she hadn’t exactly been staff either. She’d felt a bit in limbo, unsure of her position in this new environment. Hollis had assumed control easily, and why shouldn’t she? That was her territory. Annie had been the outsider. That was a position she did know well, and she didn’t accept it without complaint any longer. Linda was still her patient, and she wouldn’t be usurped. Not that she didn’t understand the hierarchy of hospital politics or patient care. She accepted there’d be times she would have to step away when a patient needed care she couldn’t give. But she wouldn’t be sidelined because of red tape and someone else’s rules.

And wouldn’t Barb be glad to hear her say that. Laughing softly at her own shifting views of the big picture, she halted outside on the hospital’s main walk to call the clinic and rearrange her afternoon schedule. She wanted to get back to the hospital to check on Linda in a couple of hours. Hopefully, Linda would be stable and ready to go home by evening, and she’d need to organize her follow-up care.

“Hi, it’s Annie,” she said when Barb answered. “I got delayed at PMC—one of my patients is here, early contractions. They’re treating her in the ER.”

“Does it look like she’s going to stop?”

“I think there’s a good chance she already has. The OB consultant started her on mag sulfate, though, prophylactically.”

Barb was silent a moment. “What’s your thinking?”

“I want to come back to check her status later, so if you don’t mind, I need to take a couple hours now to pick up Callie from school. I didn’t have anything scheduled except for a birthing class this afternoon. Okay if I have someone cover that for me?”

“Don’t worry about it—Andrea is here. She can handle it. Take the rest of the day. How did the meeting go?”

“We were interrupted—we both got called for the same patient.”

“That’s a handy coincidence,” Barb said.

“I guess that’s one way of looking at it.” Annie laughed. If she believed in fate, she’d think it was somehow conspiring to throw her and Hollis together in the most awkward situations possible. But as she didn’t believe in much of anything beyond her own will any longer, coincidence was probably as good an explanation as any. “We had to coordinate our care on the fly, but I think we worked together all right, considering the circumstances.”

“Good. Maybe that bodes well for future cooperation.”

“Maybe.” Annie had liked watching Hollis work. She was direct, confident, and compassionate. Her therapeutic approach was different than Annie’s would have been, but not necessarily wrong. Not even all that aggressive. Plenty of practitioners would have agreed with Hollis’s treatment, including some of Annie’s midwife colleagues. If Linda had continued to have contractions, Annie would have recommended the same thing. The only difference was timing—and she did tend to be more conservative than most, opting to delay aggressive intervention as long as possible. Medical judgment wasn’t always cut and dried—that’s why it was called judgment. Hollis hadn’t been wrong in her treatment, not today. Annie forcibly drew herself away from the pull of the past, recognizing that Hollis triggered emotions that should be long gone.