Free 03_The Doctor's Perfect Match by Irene Hannon

in there. We’ll get him through this. I’ll be in touch.”
    The line went dead, and Marci dropped the phone back into her lap, mulling over his last comment. We’ll get him through this, he’d said. Like they’d work together to cope with whatever lay ahead. As partners.
    That we had a nice sound to it, she reflected wistfully.
     
    Christopher swung into the hospital parking lot and propped his bike against the back wall of the E.R. He’d hated to leave in the middle of office hours. It would put him way behind and aggravate waiting patients. But the news he’d received ten minutes ago had warranted a quick trip to the hospital.
    Pushing through the staff entrance, he saw the senior doctor on duty getting ready to enter an examining room.
    “Jack.”
    The fiftyish man with salt-and-pepper hair turned at the summons, waiting as Christopher joined him.
    “Where’s Henry?”
    “Room three. He’s being prepped.”
    “I’ll make a quick stop there first. I also want to take a look at the CT scan. Is David here?” David Clark was a good surgeon, and Christopher was comfortable putting Henry in his hands.
    “He’s on his way.”
    With a curt nod, Christopher strode toward room three. Two nurses were with Henry, but they edged aside to allow him to move in close.
    Christopher’s stomach knotted as he assessed Henry. In the two years he’d known him, the man had become like a second grandfather. Other than the bout with pneumonia, he’d always been healthy.
    But he didn’t look healthy now. His color was bad, and deep crevices lined his face. Under the sheet, his thin frame seemed barely there.
    As if sensing his presence, Henry opened his eyes.
    “Hey, Christopher.”
    “Hello, Henry. I hear you had a fall.”
    “Yep. They gave me the bad news.”
    “You okay with the plan?”
    “Do I have a choice?”
    “Yes. But this is what I’d recommend.”
    “That’s what they told me. So I said go ahead.” He reached out a hand, and Christopher took his gnarled fingers. “Thanks for coming, Christopher. Sorry for the bother.”
    His throat tightened. “It’s no bother, Henry. Marci’s here, too.”
    “I know. They told me. Go find her and tell her to go home. No sense wasting time at a hospital unless you get hauled here like I did.”
    “I’ll see what I can do. I called your daughter, too.”
    Henry made a face. “I bet she threw a hissy fit.”
    “Not quite.” But close, Christopher admitted. He’d had tolisten to a rant about stubborn old men who refused to listen to reason. More than once during the tirade he’d had to bite his tongue. “She’s coming down tomorrow.”
    Henry sighed. “Better batten down the hatches.” Pulling his hand free of Christopher’s, he waved him toward the door. “Go see that little lady in the waiting room. And tell her not to worry about me. If it’s my time, it’s my time. I’m ready. Besides, there’s no sense fretting over spilled milk. Or foolish old men.”
    “It isn’t your time. Not if we have anything to say about it. And we’ll talk about the foolish part later.” He took Henry’s hand again and gave it an encouraging squeeze. “God be with you, my friend.”
    Exiting the examining room, he commandeered one of the E.R. computers and pulled up Henry’s CT scan.
    As he studied it, the senior doctor joined him. “What do you think?”
    “Same thing you do. Grade two, borderline three.” Christopher pointed to the abdominal cavity. “We may need to transfuse.”
    “Agreed. We’re keeping a close eye on blood count and pressure.”
    With a nod, Christopher stood. “A friend of Henry’s is in the waiting room. I’ll brief her before I head back to the office. Call me with any updates, okay?”
    “Sure.”
    Striding through the E.R. intake area, Christopher stepped into the large waiting room. A number of people were lounging in the chairs, reading magazines or newspapers, and they all looked up when he entered. He didn’t see