Free Banner O'Brien by Linda Lael Miller

“These things happen all the time.”
    Anger moved through her, anger that was not meant for Adam but for Sean. For Hildie’s Fitz. For all men who were so concerned with their own comforts that human decency fell by the wayside.
    Adam touched the tip of her nose with an index finger. “The boys will have a good home with Mamie Robbins, Banner. And Hildie isn’t suffering anymore. What else matters?”
    Banner lowered her eyes to hide the unprofessional tears that smarted there. “It just seems so callous, that’s all. Poor Hildie—will no one mourn her?”
    Adam’s finger traced the outline of her lips, stirring feelings that had no place in the mood of the moment. “I think someone is mourning her right now,” he said.
    Banner stood up again, quickly, because she didn’t know what she would do if Adam kept on touching her like that and speaking in that tender tone of voice. “Well, there are other patients,” she replied, with a brightness she didn’t feel. “Shouldn’t we see to them?”
    Incredibly, Adam shook his head. “I’ll make therounds myself today, O’Brien. I’d like you to stay at the hospital and look after our wounded gambler.”
    Banner’s emotions spun about in her heart in an illogical tangle. “Maggie could do that,” she argued, fearing that he’d only invited her to join his practice so that he could keep her away from his patients. Next he’d be saying that she had to stay in the hospital every day, whether it was occupied or not, in case someone came there seeking treatment!
    Adam shook his head. “Maggie is getting ready for Christmas,” he reminded her.
    Banner’s shoulders sank. She would stay with the patient today, but tomorrow was another matter. She wanted to make house calls; the day before, for all its rigors and heartbreak, had convinced her of that.
    “I won’t stay behind every day,” she said firmly as she found her cloak.
    “I know,” Adam answered as they went out, respoiling the glorious snow as they walked toward the buggy. “Tomorrow we visit the Klallum camp.”
    Banner’s face was alight as her colleague helped her into the buggy seat and came around to join her and take up the reins. “A real Indian village?” she beamed, delighted.
    “Complete with fleas, dogfish oil, and noble savages,” he grinned.
    *  *  *
    The gambler’s name was Clarence King, and he fell in love with Banner the moment she walked into the ward and smiled at him, it seemed to Adam. Maybe he could skip rounds today, and just stay around the hospital. . . .
    He caught himself up in stern professionalism. What the hell was the matter with him? Last night he’d brutalized a brother he loved, and today he was actually thinking of forsaking people who depended on him.
    Adam glanced at King, who was beaming up at an attentive Banner, regaling her with accounts of his youth on the Columbia River, where his father had a ferryboat. His youth! Why, the kid was closer to Melissa’s age than Banner’s.
    Maybe I’ll stay for the Christmas party, he thought. But then Adam remembered the mountain and the promise he’d made. The reminder sobered him and gave him the impetus to leave Banner here with Jeff and this rounder—who obviously adored her.
    *  *  *
    Smiling to himself, Keith Corbin approached Adam’s new partner, who sat near the heat stove in the ward, her feet resting on its chrome railing, immersed in a dime novel.
    As the woman read, her cheeks turned a fetching apricot pink, and her green eyes darkened to a shade resembling that of summer clover. No wonder he’d come home and found his brothers bludgeoning each other in the snow the night before.
    “Hello,” he said, his eyes diplomatically averted from the novel. “I’m Keith.”
    She looked up at him with dazed eyes, smiled falteringly, and turned the book title-side down on her lap. Then her gaze caught at his clerical collar and she blushed. “H-Hello—”
    He laughed. “You’re Banner O’Brien,