Page 12 of Quinton's Quest

“Well, how would you know? You’re supposed to be taking care of my patient and you’re out here—” I gestured to her phone. “—doing God knows what. He might be having a crisis for all you know while you’re posting to Instagram.”

She appeared stricken—with her eyes going wide. “I’m on my break.”

I snickered. “That’s what they all say. If you’re on break, why aren’t you in the breakroom?” I put my hands on my hips. “It’s always the same—what with the excuses.”

“Actually, I’m trying to track down—”

“I don’t give a flying fig what you’re trying to do. I want you either taking care of my patient as you’re supposed to be, or out of sight. Patients and families see you with your phone and they’re going to make the same assumption I am—that you’re not taking your job seriously.”

She tucked her phone into her pocket. “I’ll check on—”

“Don’t bother. I’ll do it myself. To make certain it’s done properly.” With that, I stalked off into the recovery room.

Another nurse was in there, but they were at the computer and not checking on the five patients.

Anger rose inside me. Yes, Juan had not been on the schedule, so perhaps that was why the room was understaffed.

All the more reason for Sheila to be working instead of on her phone.

I headed for Juan. His color was improving and his vitals appeared strong as I checked the monitor. I removed my stethoscope from around my neck to check his breathing and was relieved to find it normal.

He stirred, restlessly moved his hand, and then sort of cracked one eye open.

I placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re okay. Juan. You had surgery, but you did well.”

“My chest—”

“Yes, you had surgery on your chest. I had to repair a valve in your heart. But you’re going to make a full recovery.”

“Inez?”

“Your wife?”

He nodded.

“She’s here. With the children. I told her that she could see you in a few hours when you’ve been moved out of here.”

“Is she okay?”

Wow. He’s just had major surgery, and he’s worried about her.That was true love, right? My heart took a knock because there’d been a time when, if our positions had been reversed, I would’ve been worrying about Gideon and how he was coping. “She’s holding up. She needs you to rest so you can get stronger. All these problems you’ve been having were because of the faulty valve. Things should get better—but you must take time off to recover. I can’t stress that enough.”

He blinked. “Yes.”

In truth, I didn’t believe him. But I couldn’t push any harder at this point. Perhaps in another day or so, I could lay out the consequences of noncompliance. “Rest now. The nurses will take care of you.” I glanced up to find Sheila at the foot of his bed. I couldn’t read her expression—and I didn’t really care—so I nodded and headed out of the room.

At my office, I sat to review my notes. The surgery had been textbook-perfect. But that didn’t mean things couldn’t go wrong. Iana Howland was proof of that. And all because I trusted a nurse to do her job, and she hadn’t even managed that.

I blinked and tried to refocus on my work.

The time for regrets would come later. In the middle of the night. When no one was around to hear me screaming at the unfairness of life.

I’d done everything right.

Someone else had fucked up.

A young mother had died.

No matter how many people I saved in the future, it would never truly make up for that first loss.