Free Critical Care by Candace Calvert Page A

took a sip
of water before continuing. "I guess I saw enough of how the nursing shortage is compromising patient care that I wanted to help do
something about the quality. To help improve what we have left.
A smaller but mightier nursing force?"
    Logan laughed softly. "No-brainer. Just clone Erin and Sarah."
He shook his head. "I wouldn't mind having a dozen of them;
nothing I throw at those women rattles them. Not too many nurses
like that."
    She stiffened, words tumbling out before she could stop them.
"Why? Because most of us are weak links?"
    "What?" He blinked, obviously stunned by the sharpness of
her tone. "No, I wasn't saying-"
    "Yes, you did," Claire insisted. "Or at least that's what you
implied the first day I met you in ER." Her brows furrowed, remembering their prickly conversation at little Jamie's bedside. "You
said if your staff was forced to go through the CISM debriefing-"
she narrowed her eyes, mimicking his words-"and 'explore their
feelings,' they would become weak links." Like I was after Kevin's
death?
    She pushed the thought down and continued, fueled by a
confusing new anger that prodded her mercilessly. "Why are you
fighting against your staff instead of for them? You're blessed with incredible nurses like Erin and Sarah and with good-hearted people
like Inez Vega, and you don't value them enough to care about
their well-being and to . . ." She trailed off as she recalled what
Erin said about the nurses in Reno and the complaints against him
there. Maybe he didn't care.

    "Of course I do." Logan set his plate down and wiped his mouth
with a napkin. "It's just that I don't put much stock in counseling."
He raised his palm before she could respond, his eyes holding hers
for a moment as if he was deciding what he wanted to say. "Because
I did that once. With my wife. Back when our marriage was in
trouble a few years ago. Didn't work. She left me."
    "I . . ." Claire's throat constricted, and she was instantly sorry.
She'd seen a flicker of pain in his eyes. What could she say?
    "Hey, long time ago," he said, dredging up a smile. "Everybody's fine now. No condolences required." The rascal gleam came
back into his eyes. "Nor applause for the good sense of my ex."
    Claire smiled, feeling more comfortable again.
    "Look," Logan explained, "I care about my staff. I'm willing to
do whatever I can to keep my team functioning on all cylinders.
But counseling ... count me out." He raised his water bottle like
he was making a toast. "So, here's to agreeing to disagree?"
    Claire lifted her bottle toward his. "Done." She pulled her
bottle back a few inches before he could clink it. "However, 'functioning on all cylinders'-though it has a certain automotive sense
of poetry-doesn't quite do it for me. I was going more for happy
team."
    He laughed and reached forward until their bottles were a hairbreadth apart again. "I thought I was doing pretty well today," he
said, glancing back toward the masses of blooms. "Even you looked
happy for a minute there, Educator."

    Even me?
    Logan leaned nearer, his gaze holding hers for a breath-catching
moment, and Claire saw that there were flecks of gold in his eyes
like the sparkle of treasure in some clear California stream. She could
feel the warmth of his skin, smell the soapy clean scent of it, and see
the soft texture of his lips. She wondered what it might be like to ...
"Cheers, then!" she said much too loudly, clinking her water sharply
against Logan's, then scooted backward so fast that she crashed into
the chicken pecking at her abandoned sushi. It squawked furiously
and scurried off ... almost as fast as Claire wanted to.
    Logan was silent and she didn't dare look back at him. She
busied herself with retrieving the sushi, hoping to hide her blushing face. She was a fool to have come here today. She hadn't had
enough sleep to make rational decisions. Obviously. Or why else
would she go off into the woods with a man she barely