Stormy Surrender - By Nicole Andrews Moore Page 0,2

wanted to run away and never look back. Blaine could have his practice anywhere. She shivered and wondered if she’d ever be warm again.

“So, she won’t be home tonight?” Suzette asked as she rubbed Martha’s lotion all over her body before crawling into bed next to Blaine. She grabbed the book on the nightstand just to see what her competition was reading. It was just some Italian book by Frances Mayes. Boring.

Taking off his glasses and setting his medical journal aside, Blaine assured her. “No, she has to stay for a few days. They were trying to decide whether or not to do a complete hysterectomy.” He studied Suzette’s reaction. She didn’t even blink. “They were waiting to see if they could get the bleeding under control. I told them I didn’t care.”

Suzette snorted. “The old ‘do anything to save my wife’?” She smirked.

“No,” he said seriously. “I told them I didn’t care if she could have kids or not.” He stuck his journal on the nightstand, folded his glasses and propped them on top.

“Wow,” Suzette said mildly surprised. “You’re even more of a cold hearted bastard than I gave you credit for.” She reached to turn out the lamp on Martha’s nightstand. “Huh.”

Martha spent Thanksgiving in the hospital. She was the talk of the floor. At the nurses’ station the whisperings had begun the moment they had realized who she was. “Yeah, and that husband of hers hasn’t even been to visit.” “I hear he’s shacked up with his office manager.” “I can’t believe he hasn’t sent her a single flower. Doesn’t he even care about keeping up pretenses?” So, she had many visitors. Some came purely out of curiosity, others came out of sympathy, still more felt a sense of duty, but whatever drew them in, it was for Martha they not only stayed but returned. The turnout was so great that her doctor feared she might not be getting enough rest and restricted her visitors.

“I see you’ve worked your magic again,” he said with a gentle smile as he took her blood pressure and pulled up a chair.

Martha looked puzzled. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Dr. Danvers chuckled. “You wouldn’t. Look around. Aside from the glaringly obvious absence of your husband, you have been inundated with visitors.”

“Well,” she began quietly. “Isn’t it the nurses’ job to check on me?”

He smiled widely. “Sure they come to check on you, but then they get to know you.” He could see the sadness in her eyes. “And for a few brief moments, you forget who you are and why you’re here and they get this glimpse of who you are meant to be.” Her eyes were watering again. “You are special, Martha. Never forget that.” He patted her arm then exited the room.

Another pat, she thought to herself. I’m going to leave here with dents. She swallowed the mild sedative he had offered her and drifted off into a restful, dreamless sleep. When she awoke the next morning, her head seemed clear for the first time in a long time. She was calm, purposeful. She knew what she had to do.

When Dr. Danvers arrived a few hours later to check on her, she surprised him. “I’m ready to go,” she announced.

He set her chart down on the table abruptly and gave her a long hard look. He had known her ever since she outgrew her pediatrician. He had watched her turn into the amazing woman she had become. He was as protective of her as any father would be. He sighed as he contemplated his response. “I don’t think that’s wise, Martha,” he said solemnly.

“You told me that I need more rest,” she began quietly. “God knows I’m not getting the rest I need here.” As if to demonstrate, a nurse popped in to check her vitals, made a few notes on her chart, and promised to come back once the doctor was through so that they could catch up. She gestured as the door closed. “See.”

Sighing, Dr. Danvers pulled up a chair. “I’m very concerned about letting you leave now,” he said sadly. She started to respond but he cut her off before she could even formulate a thought. “Please, hear me out.” He laced his hands and held them in front of his face a moment as he pondered how he could delicately word what concerned him. “I’m afraid you won’t get the attention you need at home.”

This time she spoke despite knowing he wasn’t finished. “I can