“Do you think it is?”

“No. It feels…not right this way.”

“Well then, you should do it. You know who you are, right? You know what feels right for you. I think you should do whatever feels right for you.”

“Thanks.”

Margie bumped his shoulder with hers. “I didn’t do anything. You’re the one who’s brave.”

Tears pricked Blake’s eyes and he blinked to keep them from falling. He’d heard it before, from his mom, from his therapist, from the others in the trans group. Margie was the first friend he’d made since he’d determined to be out with everyone. She hadn’t freaked out. She understood. She gave him hope.

“You think we can sleep down here with Rooster and the chicks?”

“I don’t see why not.” Margie jumped up. “Let’s find some pillows and stuff.”

“And popcorn?”

Margie grabbed his hand. “Most definitely.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Abby counted eight emergency vans in the line extending down the drive from the ER entrance. Who knew how many had arrived in the time it had taken them to free Flann and drive over. “Stop and let me out here.”

“Wait.” Flann grasped her arm. “You’re in no shape to see patients just yet. You’re wet, cold, and…ah, dirty. Plus your hand needs some cleaning up.”

Abby couldn’t argue. Flann was never more annoying than when she was right. Abby’s legs below her shorts were scraped and mud caked, her shoes were a ruin, and her palm stung from the dried blood and grit stuck to the lacerations. “Fine. I need you to get me some scrubs. Where’s the locker room?”

“Presley,” Flann said, “pull around to the side entrance. I’ll take Abby up to the OR for a shower and some scrubs.”

“All right.” Presley swung around the circle in front of the main entrance to the white colonnaded brick building and into the side lot. “I’m going to head to the ER to see what the situation is, but I want to try Harper first.” She pulled out her phone and swiped the screen. “I’ve got a signal.”

Abby dug out her cell. She had a weak signal but at least there was hope the service would be back to strength soon. “I’ll try the kids.”

After a minute, Presley sighed. “I’m not getting through.”

“I’m not either.” Abby powered off.

“The circuits are probably overloaded with everyone trying to check in with family and friends,” Flann said. “We’ll have to just keep trying.”

“I should have gone with Harper,” Presley said.

“Harp knows these roads. She’ll be fine,” Flann said. “You’re the boss—you need to be here, especially if we have to call in reinforcements.”

“And I’m going to need to decide that,” Abby said. Blake and Margie were as safe as they could be. She would’ve felt better hearing Blake’s voice, but that comfort would have to wait. From the looks of what was ahead in the ER, they were probably already at capacity. “I’ll have a recommendation for you in twenty minutes, Pres. Let’s go, Flann.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Flann held the door as Abby climbed out and led her up the walk to the side entrance.

The security desk was unmanned. Abby followed Flann into the stairwell to the second floor and into the OR lounge. A redhead with a curvaceous body undisguised by her faded green scrubs let out a cry of delight when she saw Flann.

“Thank God you showed up. Glenn called up from the ER to say she’s got a couple of cases that will need to come up soon. You’re the only surgeon who’s shown up so far.”

“How urgent?” Abby asked.

The nurse gave her an inquiring look.

“Jeannie,” Flann said, “this is Abby Remy, the new ER chief.”

“Great initiation,” Jeannie said. “Both level threes but Glenn said they shouldn’t wait too long in case we get backed up overnight. An open tib for a washout, and facial lacerations on a teenager that are too extensive to do in the ER.”

Flann said, “We’ll get cleaned up and head down there. How many OR nurses do you have in?”

“Three so far. And one nurse anesthetist.”

“That’s a start. See if you can get another team together so we can run two rooms.”

“Already on it. I’ve been calling, but I can’t reach a lot of the on-call staff. Hopefully everyone knows to show up.”

“I’m sure they do, but they might not be able to get here.”

“We’ll make it, Flann. Just let me know what you need.” Jeannie barely took her eyes off Flann’s, her tone eager and just a little breathless.

Abby recognized the signs of infatuation. So far every woman she’d seen around Flann appeared a little bit smitten. She suspected Flann’s effortless charm worked on just about everyone, gay or straight. Then again, maybe Flann and Jeannie had history—or something more current. Pushing the flare of annoyance aside, she said, “We should get going.”

Her tone was more forceful than she intended, but Flann just nodded and pointed to the door marked Surgeons. The other read Nurses.

“Seriously?” Abby asked. “Not Men and Women?”

“The hospital is a hundred years old. It’s tradition.”

“It’s archaic.”

“Good thing you’re friends with the CEO—you can take it up with her.”

“Not my battle. The locker rooms in the ER are appropriately labeled.”

“I kind of like making the guys jump for their pants.” Flann grinned, pushed the door open, and yelled inside, “Rivers on deck.”

No one answered, and they trooped in.

“We’ve got two showers in the back.” Flann pulled scrubs from a metal rack and looked over her shoulder. “Mediums?”

“That should do it.”

“You can go ahead. I’ll rustle up some OR towels. Won’t be fancy, but it will do the job.”

“Thanks.” Abby took the scrubs and, expecting the bathroom to be a grungy example of male dominion like the ones she’d had to use from time to time in training, was surprised to find the long marble counter with inset sinks, the white octagonal floor tiles, and the brass fixtures all sparkling. Like everywhere else in the hospital, the elegance of an earlier age remained. She stacked her dirty clothes and clean scrubs outside the last shower stall. The water was hot, plentiful, and blissful. Her palm stung as she carefully scrubbed it free of dirt and debris, but she took her time. She couldn’t afford to get sidelined with cellulitis. She used soap from the dispenser to wash her hair and quickly rinsed off.

She would’ve stayed under for a half an hour if she’d had the choice, but she didn’t. She’d have to ignore her aching muscles and stiff joints for now. Less than five minutes later, she pulled back the plastic curtain and checked outside. A stack of green OR towels sat next to her scrubs. They were just large enough to cover her as she wrapped one around her torso and stepped out to dry off.

Flann rounded the corner, a pair of OR clogs in her hand, and stopped abruptly. “Hey. Feel better?”

Abby tried to pretend she wasn’t standing there nearly naked, but she felt the flush rise up her chest to her throat. The towel came to just the tops of her thighs. If she breathed too deeply, she’d give Flann a show. She resisted the urge to grab another one and hold it up in front of her. Flann had undoubtedly seen naked women before, and she had changed her clothes around dozens of other women over the years. This was different, though. This was a woman whose briefest gaze made her heart race. She grabbed another towel and briskly rubbed her hair with one hand and surreptitiously held the other down against her middle. “About a million times better.”

“I brought you some OR clogs—they might be a bit big, but they’re clean.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you down there.”

“I need to look at your hand.”

“Go shower,” Abby said. “You’re just as cold and dirty as I was. My hand is fine.”

“Let me see it. Thirty seconds.”

Since she’d waste more time arguing, Abby stepped forward with her hand out, palm up. “Your verdict, Dr. Rivers?”

Flann cupped Abby’s hand, her fingers a gentle cradle. “Not too deep, but your whole palm is scraped up. You ought to put some antibiotic ointment on it when you get downstairs.”

“I will.” Abby pulled her hand away when Flann showed no signs of letting go. They’d probably only been touching for ten seconds, but her whole arm flashed with heat. Why attention from a woman she barely knew could rock her so completely left her as shaken as the trembling in her depths. The need that pulled at her when Flann focused on her was foreign and terrifying and bittersweet. Everything she’d forgotten how to want. “You need to keep your leg dry.”

Flann held up a big sheet of adherent plastic. “Jeannie got me this. I’ll wrap it around the dressing.”

“You’ll need help with that.”

“I’ll get Jeannie to do it.”

“I’m right here.”

“If you don’t mind.”

She minded the idea of Jeannie doing it a lot more, for some reason. “Just give me a minute to get dressed.”

“Sure.” Flann leaned against the tile wall.

Really. As if she couldn’t tell when she was being teased. Abby pointed. “Flann. Out.”

“Oh,” Flann said, her smile widening. “Just checking.”

“Well, you can stop. I’ll call you.”

Flann laughed and backed out. Abby wanted to be outraged at Flann’s outrageous presumptions and her interminable flirting, but she wasn’t really. Flann’s exuberant confidence and relentless charisma made her feel young in a way she couldn’t remember ever feeling. She must’ve, once, before she’d made a colossal mistake that had left her pregnant and also given her the greatest gift of her life. She’d lost her youth, but she’d gained so much more and had not one iota of regret. Still, Flann’s playful seductiveness woke something in her, and allowing herself a few moments’ secret pleasure couldn’t do anyone any harm. But the moment was over. She pulled on the scrubs over her bare skin and stepped into the clogs. “Ready.”

Flann came back and dropped scrubs and more towels on the floor. She untied the pair of scrub pants she’d gotten from Harper and let them slide to the floor.

The shower enclosure was steamy and very quiet. They were very much alone and Flann was not her patient now. Flann’s legs were tanned and toned, and a little bit of bare, lean midriff showed above the black briefs. Flann was a very sexy woman, and Abby was not immune.

“Okay, how do we do this?” Abby kept her gaze firmly on Flann’s face.

Flann held out the eighteen-inch square of adherent plastic. “You hold both corners on your end, and I’ll peel off the backing. Keep it tight so it doesn’t wrinkle, lay it down over the bandage, and wrap it all the way around. Make sure you get skin on both sides of it so it sticks.”

Abby had to crouch in front of Flann again, and she ordered herself back into physician mode. She grasped the plastic as directed, Flann peeled off the thin paper backing, and Abby pressed the adherent film to Flann’s thigh. Flann’s muscles jumped.

“I’m sorry. You’re tender, aren’t you?”

“I’m okay. You’re doing great.”

Abby carefully wrapped the plastic around Flann’s thigh, completely enclosing the gauze bandage she’d placed earlier. When she was done, she looked up. “All right?”

Flann’s teasing grin was gone. In its place was an expression Abby had never seen directed at her before—a dark flash of hunger that flared in the shadows of Flann’s gaze.

“Really good.” Flann brushed a strand of hair from Abby’s cheek. “You do have good hands.”

Flann’s fingertips were soft and warm, and heat flowed down Abby’s body. She leaned into Flann’s palm and Flann’s fingers slid over the edge of her jaw onto her neck. Her nipples tightened.

Abby swallowed. “I should get downstairs.”

“I’ll be right down.” Flann didn’t move.

Abby rose. They were inches apart. Flann’s lips parted, full and moist.

“Abby—”

“Don’t forget,” Abby said, slipping around Flann. “I expect you to check in every two hours.” She didn’t wait for Flann to answer.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Flann finished her sixth case of the night at five in the morning. They’d commandeered a couple of floor nurses to work in the recovery room until the regular staff could get in, hopefully sometime in the next few hours. Presley had sent word into the OR that she’d been in contact with local police and county sheriffs’ offices, and reports were that many roads were closed due to downed trees and mudslides. With so few roads connecting the outlying communities, many of the staff members would not be able to get into work for at least another twenty-four hours. Those who lived close enough to the hospital to make it in or who were on duty when the storm hit would be eating and sleeping at the hospital until relief arrived. Sometime during the night one of the old-timers Presley had once referred to as a dinosaur had shown up in the OR in scrubs. Franklin Thomas had spent his life as a general practitioner, but when he’d started practicing, around the time Flann had been born, he’d delivered babies, set bones, and on occasion removed an appendix or two. He’d pitched in and put on casts, washed out wounds, and performed other minor surgical procedures to give Flann a chance to concentrate on the most serious repairs.