Healing Her Heart

Healing Her Heart

Chapter One

“Larissa, I put a new patient in room four for you,” Merry Haines, the

Hope County Hospital ER charge nurse, called out.

“Okay.” Larissa Brockman finished documenting on her recent discharge

and then pushed away from the computer. The hour was well past midnight,

but the ER remained incredibly busy on this Memorial Day Friday night. Or

rather, Saturday morning.

She crossed over to room four but then stopped abruptly in the doorway as

she saw the familiar face of her patient. Annie Hinkle, a fifty-year-old woman

looking a decade older than she should, was seated on the gurney cradling her

right arm against her chest.

No. Not again. The tiny hairs lifted on the back of her neck in alarm. This

was the second time Annie had been here over the past month. The last time

was for a black eye that she swore was not caused by her husband, Kurt’s,

fist.

What would be her story this time? Larissa took a deep breath and let it out

slowly before entering the room. “Hello, Annie.”

“Hi.” Annie’s gaze barely met hers before skittering away.

“What did you do to your arm?” Larissa asked, keeping her voice gentle as

she approached. She had the distinct impression the woman was on the edge

and wouldn’t hesitate to flee if cornered.

“I fell off the front porch—you know how klutzy I am.” Annie refused to

meet her gaze but kept staring down at her arm as if the injury might heal

itself if she concentrated hard enough.

“I don’t think you’re klutzy at all,” Larissa murmured. “Show me where it

hurts.”

“Right here,” Annie said, removing her left hand to reveal a darkly mottled

bruise encircling her wrist. Larissa felt a little sick looking at the injury,

knowing there was no possible way this had happened from a fall. She could

clearly envision a man’s large hand squeezing hard enough to cause this.

She’d be surprised if there weren’t a few broken bones hidden beneath the

horribly discolored skin.

“Okay, I’m going to get you a cold pack for that, and I’m sure the doctor

will want X-rays, too.” She kept her voice calm with an effort. “Do you need

something for pain?”

Annie lifted her shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Maybe a pain pill would

help.”

Larissa nodded, thinking the poor woman needed far more than a pain pill.

She batted a wave of helplessness aside. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” she

asked. “Maybe you hit your head? Or your ribs?”

“No, just my wrist.”

“All right, I’m going to check in with Dr. Allen, and then I’ll be right

back.”

“Sure.” Annie’s gaze jerked away, causing Larissa’s stomach to knot

painfully.

She recognized the signs and symptoms of abuse. Only too well. Dark

memories from the past threatened to overwhelm her, and she fought them

back with an effort. Struggling to keep her emotions under control, she

grabbed an ice pack from the supply rack and then went searching for Dr.

Gabe Allen, the physician in charge of the patients on her team.

He was on the phone talking to the inpatient hospitalist about a patient he

wanted admitted. She hovered nearby, waiting until he finished his call. He

hung up the phone and flashed a warm smile. “Hi, Larissa, what’s up?”

His smile was far too attractive, an effect she’d been fighting for months

now. So far, she thought she was hiding her feelings pretty well. “I need you

to examine my patient in room four,” she said in a soft tone in a voice. “I’m

convinced she’s being physically abused.”

Gabe’s smile faded. “Are you sure?”

She’d only been a nurse here at the Hope County Hospital for six months,

but she’d thought she’d proved her competence by now. She scowled. “Trust

me, I’m sure.”

Gabe gave a terse nod. “All right, let me finish up this inpatient admission,

and I’ll be right over.”

“Thanks.” She hurried back over to Annie’s bedside, squeezing the

disposable ice pack between her hands to activate the chemical reaction

inside. “Here, place this around your wrist, okay?” she instructed. “Dr. Allen

will be here shortly.”

Annie winced but didn’t say anything as she placed the cold pack over her

wrist.

Larissa struggled to find the right words that might break through the

woman’s wall of denial. “Annie, you don’t have to put up with anyone

hurting you. We have programs that can help keep you safe.”

“No one’s hurting me,” Annie swiftly denied. “I told you I fell off the

porch.” Her voice rose with indignation, and instinctively, Larissa knew she

needed to back off or the woman might bolt.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I just don’t like the idea of anyone hurting you.” She

forced a reassuring smile. “You’re such a nice woman, and you certainly

deserve to be treated as such. Oh, look, here comes Dr. Allen now.”

“How are you, Mrs. Hinkle?” he asked. “I understand you may have

broken your wrist.”

“I fell off the porch,” Annie said, repeating her story like a parrot.

“Hmmm,” Gabe murmured as he removed the ice pack from her wrist. His

eyebrows pulled together in a dark frown when he saw the extent of the

injury. He probed the skin gently, his expression serious. “We’re going to

need several X-rays of this wrist,” he said.

Larissa swiftly logged on to the computer. “AP and lateral views?” she

asked as she entered the order.

“Yes.” Gabe replaced the ice pack and gave Annie a stern look. “You

know this didn’t happen from a fall,” he said bluntly.

“Yes, yes, it did.” Annie’s voice was beginning to sound desperate. “I’m

klutzy and I fell off the porch.”

Gabe’s frustrated gaze locked on Larissa’s, and she knew exactly what he

was thinking. She gave him a tiny nod, acknowledging their dilemma, and

then turned toward Annie. “Okay, just relax for now. The radiology tech will

be here shortly to take you over to get the X-rays. Dr. Allen, do you think she

could have a dose of Percocet for the pain?”

“Of course.”

“Great, I’ll be right back.” Larissa walked over to the automated drug-dispensing machine and punched in her password along with Annie’s name

and ID number. The Percocet drawer popped open, and she removed one

dose before closing it up again. When she spun around, she nearly bumped

into Gabe.

“We have to notify the sheriff’s department,” he said in a low voice.

“I know.” The Wisconsin state statutes were pretty clear regarding cases of

suspected abuse. Still, she knew that doing the right thing could also backfire

in a big way. “But you heard her. There’s no way she’s going to press

charges against her husband. And I’m afraid that he’ll only get angrier once

the deputy questions him. What if he takes that anger out on her?”

Gabe ****** his fingers through his dark brown hair. “You could be right,

but what choice do we have?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, hating the feeling of helplessness. The

system was supposed to work for victims, but more often than not, it created

a vicious cycle, one that couldn’t be broken unless the victim took a stance.

But too many of those victims didn’t. “Let me talk to the social worker first,

okay?”

“Okay, but giving her pamphlets on domestic violence isn’t going to help,”

Gabe said with a dark frown. “We have to call the authorities.”

She nodded, knowing with a sinking heart that he was right. She could

only hope that the police could get through to Annie better than she and Gabe

had been able to.

She closed her eyes and prayed that Annie wouldn’t end up back in the ER

with injuries that were far worse than a black eye or a broken wrist.

Please, Lord, keep Annie safe!

____________

Gabe stared at the deputy in disbelief. “You’re telling me there’s nothing

you can do?”

Deputy Armbruster held up his palms in a helpless gesture. “What do you

want me to say? I could haul Kurt Hinkle down to jail, but if she doesn’t

press charges, he’ll be out by morning.”

That couldn’t be right. “Surely there’s enough evidence there to charge

him with abuse even without her testimony?”

“Look, maybe he admits he grabbed her too hard, and she jerked away and

oops? Look what happened?” The deputy sighed heavily. “Without Annie

testifying against him, this could be made to look like some sort of accident

rather than an intentional act of abuse. With no priors, he’ll walk.”

Gabe sensed Larissa beside him, and he was annoyed that he’d recognized

her vanilla scent. Regardless, he kept his attention focused on the problem at

hand. He just couldn’t believe there wasn’t something that could be done

legally to prevent Kurt from hurting his wife. Again.

“What about the black eye from a few weeks ago?” she asked.

Gabe scowled. “I don’t remember that.”

“You weren’t working that shift,” Larissa pointed out. “I was on with Dr.

Gardener.”

Deputy Armbruster pursed his lips. “We could maybe argue that it’s a

pattern, but again, not likely. I got a black eye myself playing softball with

my girls.” He smiled grimly. “My daughter Elise has a good arm.”

Gabe understood what the deputy was saying, but that didn’t mean he had

to like it. “So what can we do?”

“Look, I can go chat with Kurt if you want me to. At least he’ll know that

we’re on to him and—”

“No,” Larissa interrupted harshly. “Don’t.”

“What?” Gabe glared at her. “Why not?”

“Because he’ll be mad and take his anger out on her, that’s why.” Larissa

turned toward Deputy Armbruster. “If you can’t arrest him, then just leave it

alone.”

Gabe couldn’t believe what he was hearing. What was she doing? Why

wasn’t Larissa standing up for their patient? “I think it would do Kurt good to

know we’re on to him.”

“Why?” Larissa asked, her green eyes sparking fire. “So next time he can

hurt her where the bruises won’t show?”

What? He took a step back. “No, of course not.”

“Leave it alone,” she pleaded. “I’ll talk to Annie, okay? Maybe I can help

in ways the police can’t.”

Deputy Armbruster shrugged. “Okay, let me know if anything changes.”

“Gabe? We need your help over here,” Merry called. “This patient’s

breathing is getting worse.”

“Go ahead, I’ll talk to Annie,” Larissa said.

Reluctantly, he nodded and hurried over to where Merry was standing

beside another patient who was clearly in distress. The beeping oxygen-saturation monitor showed numbers that were steadily declining. “Get me an

intubation tray now.”

All thoughts regarding his other patients vanished as he quickly focused on

saving this gentleman’s life. He placed the breathing tube and then quickly

connected the oxygen supply, giving him several slow, deep breaths.

“O2 sat up to 90 percent,” Merry announced with satisfaction.

The respiratory therapist came over to secure the tube. Gabe kept an eye

on the guy’s vital signs, reassured that he was holding his own, at least for the

moment. “All right, call up to the ICU and let them know we have a patient

for them.”

“Will do,” Merry promised.

Gabe did a quick visual check on the other patients under his care before

heading back over to where Larissa was sitting beside Annie Hinkle. Annie

was staring down at the cast he’d ordered to be placed on her wrist after

determining that indeed she’d suffered two minor fractures.

Which could have easily been far worse. The good news was that she

wouldn’t need surgery.

The bad news was that he’d have to discharge her home. Back to her

abusive husband.

He paused outside the doorway, listening as Larissa spoke softly to Annie.

“Here’s my name and phone number,” Larissa said, pressing a small, folded

piece of paper into Annie’s uninjured hand. “Call me if you feel afraid, or if

you just want to talk. I’d be happy to help in any way I can.”

“Thank you,” Annie whispered. “But really, I’m fine. Just a bit klutzy.”

“Remember what I told you?” Larissa asked.

Annie slowly lifted her gaze to meet Larissa’s. Her softly spoken “yes”

sounded almost like an admission.

“Call me anytime,” Larissa repeated.

“I will.”

Gabe stood there for a long moment, wishing he’d heard the entire

conversation between the two women. He’d sensed right from the start that

Larissa had identified with Annie on a level that he couldn’t possibly

imagine.

Because of her previous ER experiences? Or from something more

personal? He was surprised by the flash of anger at the thought of someone

hurting Larissa.

He signed Annie’s discharge orders, unable to get the thought out of his

mind. From the moment he’d first met Larissa, they’d connected on some

sort of subliminal level. He was attracted to her, not just because of her pretty

face and soft, wavy, blonde hair. But because they were both extremely

dedicated to their patients and shared the same interests, like running. He’d

caught sight of her several times when he took to the running trails, always

giving her a nod of recognition but never stopping to chat.

He’d had to work hard to keep his distance from her. Romance and work

did not mix, a lesson he’d learned the hard way.

He’d come to Crystal Lake a year ago, his pride battered and his reputation

tarnished. After a year, he’d gained the respect he’d so desperately needed.

Soon, he hoped to win the position of medical director for emergency

medicine, putting his painful past away once and for all.

He refused to even consider a personal relationship, especially with one of

the nurses.

But as he watched Larissa give Annie a brief hug and escort her out the

door, he couldn’t help wishing that he’d met Larissa under different

circumstances. That she wasn’t a nurse working in the ER with him.

Because he liked her, far too much.

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