Her Little Spanish Secret. Laura IdingЧитать онлайн книгу.
away.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m sorry, but I need to finish making rounds. Did you have any questions about the chart copies I gave you?”
She’d read through his entire stack of notes early that morning, before Tommy had woken up. “I noticed her electrolytes keep going out of whack—do you think that’s because of her head injury?”
“Yes, brain injuries cause sodium levels to drop, but try not to worry as we are replacing what she’s lost.”
She’d noticed the IV solution running through Juliet’s IV was similar to what they’d use in the U.S. Except for the equipment being a little different, the basics of medical and nursing care were very much the same.
“Thanks again, Miguel, for everything,” she said in a low voice, trying to put the depth of her feelings into words. “I’m so relieved to know my sister is in such good hands.”
“You’re very welcome, Katerina. I’ll see you tonight, yes?”
“Yes,” she confirmed. After he left, she walked back and sat down at her sister’s bedside.
She was lucky that Miguel was here. Not just because he spoke English, which was a huge help, but because she knew he was an excellent surgeon.
Ironic how fate had brought her face to face with Tommy’s father after all these years. Her previously suppressed feelings for Miguel threatened to surface and she took a long, deep breath, ruthlessly shoving them back down.
She needed to protect her heart from Miguel’s charm. And even more importantly, she needed to preserve the life she’d built with her son.
Miguel finished his rounds and then took a break to call his brother. Unfortunately, Luis didn’t answer the phone so he left his brother a message, requesting a return phone call.
He rubbed the back of his neck, debating whether he should go out to see his brother after work or not. He should have time before dinner as he wasn’t on call this evening. But at the same time, going all the way out to the farm and back would take at least two and a half hours, and he didn’t want to be late for his dinner date with Katerina.
Miguel was pleased Katerina had agreed to see him again tonight. He felt the need to make it up to her for leaving so abruptly after finding out about his father’s stroke. The night they’d spent together had been incredible. There had always been the hint of awareness between them while working together in the operating room. At times it had seemed as if Katerina could practically read his mind, instinctively knowing what he’d needed before he’d had to ask.
He’d been tempted to pursue a relationship, but had told himself it wouldn’t be fair since he wasn’t planning on staying. Maybe if things had been different …
No, he’d made his decision. He’d already given notice at the hospital that he was leaving at the end of the academic year, which was just three months away. He’d first heard about Doctors Without Borders in Madrid from one of his colleagues. He’d quickly decided that he wanted to join as well once he’d finished his training. He’d known early on he didn’t want to stay on his family’s olive farm. He’d wanted to travel. To learn about other cultures. He’d jumped at the opportunity to study in the U.S. and now couldn’t wait to join Doctors Without Borders.
So why was he torturing himself by seeing Katerina again? If he had a functioning brain cell in his head, he’d stay far away from her until her sister was stable enough for transport back home.
Katerina wasn’t the woman for him. He knew he shouldn’t measure all women against his American mother, but after living in both cultures he understood a little better why his mother had reacted the way she had. The two lifestyles were very different. Maybe if the olive farm hadn’t suffered two bad years in a row, there would have been money for vacations back in the U.S. Would that have been enough for his mother? Or would that have only emphasized her loss?
Truthfully, he couldn’t understand why his mother just hadn’t purchased a one-way ticket to New York and returned home if she’d been so desperately unhappy here. Instead, she’d stayed to become a bitter woman who’d made all their lives miserable. Until she’d unexpectedly died of an overdose, which had been determined to be accidental rather than a suicide attempt.
Miguel shook off his dark thoughts and concentrated on his patients. He loved everything about being a surgeon. There wasn’t nearly as much trauma here in Seville as in Cambridge, Massachusetts, but he didn’t mind. One thing he never got used to was losing patients.
Especially young patients. Like the twenty-five-year-old pregnant mother they’d lost during his last shift in the U.S.
After finishing his rounds on the adults in his case load, he made his way over to the children’s wing, which happened to be in the oldest part of the hospital. He wanted to visit Pedro, his young appendectomy patient. The young boy would need to stay a few days for IV antibiotics before he could be discharged.
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