“Mr. Slocombe, you need to calm down.” Despite the fact that her heart was thundering, Miranda kept her voice calm and matter-of-fact as she approached him. “Let me help you back up.”
He jerked his shoulder out of her touch and shoved himself back onto the exam table. “Ain’t nobody out there cares about somebody like me. I didn’t do nothing to deserve this. I did my job, never caused trouble. Got hurt. And then the factory went and moved to Mexico. How’s a man supposed to survive after that?”
The door opened without preamble and Keisha stuck her head in, Delaney right behind. “Everything okay in here?”
Miranda held up a hand so they’d stay where they were. “Everything’s fine. Mr. Slocombe is just a little upset. Give us a few minutes, okay?”
Keisha looked like she wanted to argue. “We’ll be right outside if you need anything.” She shut the door.
Ralph’s shoulders slumped, and he dropped his head into his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. The pain about drives me out of my mind.”
“I understand.” Miranda pulled the stool back and sat down. “Let’s talk about what we can do to get you through the next week and a half.”
He was calmer by the time he left, and Miranda was already wishing for a cupcake from Sweet Magnolias to take the edge off. She hated when she couldn’t help people. The morning continued to roll, with patient after patient, mostly keeping her too busy to dwell on Ralph Slocombe or anything else.
Because her throat was beginning to ache on top of the exhaustion, as soon as Miranda had a moment to breathe, she gave herself a strep test and left it to process as she moved on to the next patient on her list. As she was escorting Winnie Tolleson back for her regular blood work, Ethan strode through the door. He was in full cop mode this morning, large-and-in-charge in the uniform that had never looked quite so good to her. His eyes warmed at the sight of her.
A burst of pleasure and nerves wiped away the suck of the morning and had Miranda waving Delaney over. “Can you go ahead and get Mrs. Tolleson settled in the back for her blood draw?”
Catching sight of Ethan in the waiting room, thumbs hooked in his duty belt, Delaney hesitated. What was that about? General nerves around cops? With her history, Miranda couldn’t blame her for that, but Ethan wasn’t a part of that past. Maybe she did have a thing for him, too.
“Delaney?”
The girl blinked, shaking her head in apology and offering a smile. “Sure thing, Dr. Campbell.” Tucking a hand beneath the elderly woman’s arm, she began the slow trek down the hall. “Miss Winnie, how have you been doing these last couple of weeks?”
Assured her patient was taken care of for the moment, she adopted a casual stance. “Morning, Chief. What can we do for you?”
He inclined his head in that Old West nod she found so appealing. “Doc. Had some business to tend to, so thought I’d drop by.”
Was that cross speak? Was she the business or had something happened last night? “Oh? Did our mutual friend have problems getting home?”
“No. Ended up being quiet.”
Quiet was good, she supposed, in a no-news-is-good-news kind of way. Which meant he had to be here for her. Miranda relaxed.
From behind the counter, the phone rang. “Dr. Campbell’s office, hold please.” Obviously, Shelby wasn’t planning on missing a thing.
Miranda tipped her head toward the hall. “You want to come back?” At least the break room would provide a modicum of privacy.
“Can’t stay, and you’re clearly busy. I just wanted to see if you were free for dinner tonight.”
Painfully aware of all the ears—staff and patient—suddenly tuned in to her answer, Miranda grimaced. “I’m on at the ED tonight.”
His brows drew down in confusion. “Thought you already did your rotation this month.”
“I did.” She resisted the urge to look down at his ass. “But I picked up this shift to help out one of the other doctors in town. What about Friday night?”
“Can’t. I’m on duty again. Don’t want to get called out in the middle of anything.”
Nothing in his tone was remotely salacious, but Miranda couldn’t help imagining the possibilities of what “anything” could mean. She liked all of them. “Saturday?”
“Saturday I can do. I’ve got a thing for a fair chunk of the day, but I’ll be free in time for dinner.”
“Dinner then,” she agreed.
He flashed that slow, molasses smile. “It’s a date.”
A date. A real, honest-to-God date, with an interesting, attractive man. This new year was starting to look up. “We should probably swap numbers so we can sort out the details without an audience.”
The smile turned faintly sheepish as he glanced around the waiting room and caught everybody staring. “I’ve got yours.”
Oh right. From the report he’d taken about the vandalism of her Jeep.
He pulled out his phone and tapped a few buttons. From inside the pocket of her lab coat, her own phone vibrated.
“There, now you’ve got mine.”
For some reason, the idea of it made her giddy as a teenage girl. “Saturday, then.”
“Saturday. Later, Doc.” With one last look in her direction—he was totally checking out her legs—Ethan turned on heel and left.
The moment the door shut behind him, the entire office crooned, “Oooooooo,” like a bunch of middle schoolers.
“Oh, shut up and get back to work,” Miranda groused. But she couldn’t hold back her own grin as she grabbed the next chart and headed down the hall. She detoured to the lab to check on her strep test.
Positive.
Miranda wanted to thunk her head against the lab counter. She did not have time for this shit. A Rocephrin shot should knock it out. Sticking her head out in the hall, she looked for her nurse. But Keisha was back with Winnie Tolleson. Shelby was on the phone. That left Delaney. She could walk the girl through a shot.
“Delaney.”
“What do you need?”
Anxiety skittered over the girl’s face as Miranda shut the door. “I need you to give me a shot.”
“You what now?”
“I just tested positive for strep and there is no way in hell I’m missing that date. I need an antibiotic shot, and I can’t very well give myself one in my own ass. You are the only one with free hands at the moment. Don’t worry, I can walk you through it.” Moving quickly, she pulled out the necessary supplies and prepped the syringe.
“Are you sure?”
“It’s just a shot.” Stripping off her lab coat, Miranda unzipped her pants and tugged down so her hip was exposed. “Go ahead and swab it with an alcohol wipe.”
Hesitating only a moment, Delaney did as asked. Miranda handed her the syringe. “It’s going in the meaty part of the hip.”
Delaney eyed the expanse of skin and cringed. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.” And if she did, well, small price to pay not to be knocked on her ass by strep for the next week.
Miranda coached her through the procedure, impressed when she barely felt a prick. “Now, slowly press the plunger in.”