The Cowboy's Second Chance
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Cheryl Harper
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CHAPTER ONE
DR. KEENA MURPHY sat on the metal bench bisecting the long, narrow locker room and inhaled slowly. She held that breath for an exact count of ten. Tap by tap, one trembling finger at a time on her knees, she counted down. Exhaling lowered her racing pulse.
The paper gown covering her blue scrubs crinkled with each small movement. Whatever industrial cleaner the hospital’s janitorial crew used on the floor smelled so familiar. Muffled chaos in Denver Medical Center’s Emergency Department registered faintly, so Keena strained to differentiate the voices of her coworkers, the doctors and nurses still out on the floor.
Her sticky, dry mouth was a reminder that her twelve-hour shift had not included any time for food or water.
The doctor in her knew that was a terrible way to care for herself, even as she also understood how it continued to happen.
She’d met every single demand of the job tonight, and that was all that mattered.
“What a day.” Angie Washington yanked the surgical cap off her head and balled it up in the gown she had crumpled in one hand. “You okay, Dr. Murphy? You don’t look so good. Cheeks are pale.” The bench jolted as she dropped down next to Keena and wrapped her fingers around Keena’s wrist to take her pulse. “Bet you were hoping for a nice, quiet shift tonight, lots of time to make your goodbyes. That’s the kind of shift I wanted tonight. We don’t get too many of those, do we?”
Keena appreciated Angie’s brisk delivery, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary about Keena’s end-of-the-shift routine. The nurse was right. The shift had gone as most of them did, but this wasn’t like her. She never let her ER team see her sweat. It had become Keena’s way of life. The fact that she’d been counting down the minutes until she could slowly fall apart tonight worried her the most.
“What will I do without you, Angie?” she murmured and pulled her arm back. Whatever her pulse was doing, it was okay now.
This leave of absence was coming at exactly the right time. Keena’s reputation as Steady Murphy, the nickname the nurses had given her early on for her calm response to pressure, was spotless. The fewer people who witnessed her control being as shaky as her grip as she opened her locker, the better.
“I was definitely not prepared to see a woman with multiple gunshot wounds.” Keena dealt with trauma regularly but stabilizing the woman who’d been hurt by her angry ex-husband had required every bit of Keena’s experience and most of the faith she possessed.
“What you did was amazing. She was lucky you were on duty.” Angie waved a hand. “Any hesitation might have killed her.”
Keena frowned as she studied her neatly folded jeans. “What we did, Angie. You didn’t leave me alone for a second, and she needed all of us.”
“She sure did and a few angels besides. The fact that she made it through surgery is proof miracles still happen around here. Honestly, that was plenty for one night.” Angie sighed. “Following it up with the victims of a multicar accident on I-25 was...” Her voice trailed off as if it was impossible to find the right word.
“Yeah.” Keena stood and pulled her clothes out of the locker. Tonight, a shower would absolutely be required before she could drive home. Fatigue made it too difficult to carry on polite conversation, so she gave up and started for the shower. When steam emerged, Keena gritted her teeth and stepped under the water. The fiery spray burned away the brain fog and made it easier to consider getting home. Her skin was a bright pink when she returned to her locker. No more pale cheeks.
Angie was still there, reapplying her lipstick.
“I’m leaving you in charge until I get back. Don’t let anyone make a mess of my department.” Keena was pleased at her stronger tone. Steady. That’s what her team expected.
“Hope that wide spot in the road knows how lucky they are to get you, Dr. Murphy.” Angie finished tying her shoes. “Three months and you’ll be back? Is that what I heard?”
“That’s the plan.” Keena shoved her scrubs in the bin to be laundered. “Dr. Singh is traveling to Haiti to assist with the medical mission there, and Prospect...” Keena ran her hands through her wet hair and twisted it into a knot on top of her head. “That’s the name of the wide spot. Prospect doesn’t have another doctor, so Dr. Singh asked for help finding a temporary replacement.” She’d been lucky enough to work with Dr. Singh while she was still a resident, before he’d left for the slower lane of small-town doctor.
“Think you’ll be...bored? The head nurse here when I started told me that working Emergency changes a person. Rewires your brain. Tonight, we did the impossible. May have to do it all over again tomorrow, too.” Angie raised her eyebrows. Her opinion was clear. Colds and vaccinations would be quite the change from shifts in Denver’s only Level 1 trauma center. The worst cases were transferred here, and the challenge had been invigorating for most of Keena’s career. Here she accomplished feats few people could manage. That had been what drew her to medicine all along, the chance to perform at a high level and stand out in the crowd. She had been lucky to work with the best of the best, from the administration on the corporate-level floor all the way down to the security guards who stood at the door each night.
If Keena and her team thought of themselves as braver than the rest, they had plenty of opportunity to prove that. Angie’s question prodded one of Keena’s own doubts about spending months away from her hospital. Being bored might sound lovely, but Keena wasn’t convinced, either.
“Angie, when was the last time you took a vacation?”
The RN peered into the distance as she considered the question. “Well, my husband and I took the kids to Disneyland over the summer.” She shook her head. “Honestly, getting two teenagers there and safely home was more stressful than some shifts here at the hospital. I don’t know how two children can fight like cats in a gunny sack and still agree to conspire against their parents the way these two do. Next time I get a break, we’re leaving those children with my husband’s mother. A vacation sounds nice, Dr. Murphy. You deserve to rest a little.”
Keena was hoping for just that. The wear and tear of Emergency added up. Slowing down in Prospect would be as nice as a vacation, leaving her refreshed and ready to take on nights like tonight without faltering. If the fear that she would lose her edge if she stepped out of the emergency department for too long floated through her mind now, Keena brushed it away.
It was a silly fear. Keena had been at her best under pressure before. That’s all she wanted, a return to her old self. Her life was good; her work here had purpose. All she needed was a little R and R, and the adrenaline rush of shifts like this one would be exciting again.
“Boredom is going to be a blessing.” Keena flexed her fingers, relieved to find them steady again. Returning to reality thanks to a mindfulness routine she’d learned out of self-preservation was good medicine, but only a bit of peace could restore her energy. That was the prescription she’d written for herself.
Keena double-checked the shelf in her locker to make sure she’d collected all the items she’d kept on hand to make hospital life more convenient—deodorant, toothpaste, toothbrush, floss, hairbrush—all the little things that could make difficult shifts bearable. Satisfied that everything was packed away in the box she’d been filling all week and her large bag, she was ready to leave.
“You know you aren’t getting out of here without some kind of farewell from us, right?” Angie was leaning against the door to the hallway. “We’re going to miss you too much around here for that.”
Keena straightened her shoulders, determined to leave on a high note. “Since you’ve all been running this race right beside me tonight, I expect us all to keep this short and sweet.”
Angie saluted.
“As a nurse, I try to never say ‘the doctor knows best’ too loudly. Bad for your egos.” Angie held the door open. “But I hope you enjoy your break. When you’re ready to come home, we’ll be here.” As Angie and Keena passed the large front desk, everyone seemed to be holding their breath.
A box of cookies sat on the nurses’ station, decorated and arranged to spell out We will miss you! in hot-pink letters. Angie handed her one. “Your favorite color.”
Touched that Angie would remember something like that, Keena ate two cookies and read the comments on the enormous card signed by everyone in the department. Leaving was bittersweet.
She stopped to carefully survey all the faces, returning each person’s smile with one of her own. “Thank you for all you’ve done tonight. I’ll see you in a few months.”
“See you soon” was much more accurate than “goodbye.”
As she headed for the sliding doors, the security guard there tipped an imaginary hat, so Keena returned the favor before stepping out into the early-morning sunshine.
The reminder of the world outside the hospital and that it kept turning, no matter how frenetic the hours inside had been, was welcome. With each step she took, breathing became easier, and by the time she slid behind the steering wheel, Keena had evaluated her plans for the day and knew they were sound. In the heat of a crisis, Keena never hesitated. Decisions came easy.
Second-guessing herself was annoying and something she wanted to eliminate, especially since it had gotten worse as her mental energy flagged. Moving temporarily to Prospect, an old mining town way up in the mountains, presented an overwhelming list of unknowns, starting with whether or not Keena would excel at a family practice, especially without a partner nearby like Dr. Singh.
Having more time for her medical diagnoses didn’t change the fact that people were depending on her to get them right.
“The answers to questions you haven’t been asked yet aren’t in this parking lot, Keena,” she muttered to herself in the exasperated, pragmatic tone her mother always used. It was the same voice that told her to get a grip in the middle of any new crisis. Growing up, Keena had learned her mother was more about practical solutions than nurturing care. Whenever she needed to check herself, her mother’s voice was always there to help out. After she settled into her rental house in Prospect, she’d give her mother a call.
The short drive to her apartment took no time. Everything she’d need to take to Prospect was packed in two suitcases and a small stack of boxes near the door. Years of discipline kicked in, and Keena moved to her bedroom. No matter how alert she felt after the relief of successfully completing a busy shift at the hospital, the lack of sleep would eventually catch up to her. She didn’t want that to occur on winding mountain roads and she’d arranged to meet Dr. Singh at his office that afternoon, leaving sufficient time for a nap.
Sleep came easily enough, but Keena was wide-awake before her alarm beeped and she hit the road.
Keena drove south out of Denver before turning west and starting to climb. The Iowa girl in her gripped the steering wheel tightly as each curve took her higher and closer to narrow shoulders. The signs of an urban community faded, replaced with scrubby grass, tall trees and even taller mountains in the distance, but following Dr. Singh’s clear instructions was simple enough.
Eventually, a two-lane highway led straight into the middle of the historic district of Prospect. Keena studied the raised wood boardwalk that fronted the facades of the town’s Old West businesses, including a livery stable, a barbershop and a bank. Other modern businesses had taken over some of the space. An old movie theater, the Prospect Picture Show, was showing Rio Bravo, and the large, two-story building called the Mercantile caught her attention.
That was Dr. Singh’s landmark, the easy-to-see spot marking the hard-to-see medical office nestled behind it. Making a quick turn on the small street on the other side of the Mercantile brought her right to Prospect Family Practice. This structure was smooth plaster with a large glass wall that made it easy to see the office’s reception desk and seating area.
Parking was simple. Keena pulled into one of the empty spots lining the fence of a large park that covered the block behind the Mercantile. There were two kids chasing a ball right down the center of the grassy area while two women chatted at a picnic table. The playground at the opposite end was empty.
When Keena turned off the ignition, silence settled over the car immediately. There was no traffic noise, just sunshine, mature evergreens, a street giving way to an old neighborhood, and small-town quiet. The difference between where she’d been at sunrise and her present circumstances was overwhelming. Her temporary home presented a postcard-perfect image in the late-afternoon golden light.
Keena knew better than to romanticize the situation, but still, she wanted to savor the scene.
“It’s as important to be in the present in good times as it is in bad,” she reminded herself. Anxiety could still catch her off guard, even here in this setting, but she didn’t have time to consider what that might look like because Dr. Singh stepped out of the medical office, waving wildly.
The familiar sight amused her. PJ Singh was a man who’d never met a stranger, and his friends received his wholehearted enthusiasm at all times. The residents who’d worked with him were lucky. But patients had always been his biggest fans. Keena had never met another doctor who connected with the patient, young or old, as well as he did.
He’d explained to her over and over how important that was when she was a young doctor. Keena learned quickly, had steady hands, and handled the rush of medicine well. She had been made for the ER. Family medicine required different skills and an understanding of how to treat the person, not only the injury.
That had been her biggest concern about this move to Prospect. Could she execute this type of medicine to the standards she’d set for herself and her emergency department?
Keena was determined to do good medicine here. Dr. Singh knew her and trusted her to take care of his town.
And Keena trusted herself not to let him down.
She might have her own doubts, but no one else would.
Steady Murphy was prepared to tackle the challenge of life in Prospect.
