“I’m Larkin,” the nurse said crisply. “And you are late.”
Bridget bristled. “I beg your pardon. I was told to report at four o’clock. It is”—she glanced at her wristwatch—“three fifty-five.”
The junior nurse, a cute redhead with wide blue eyes and freckled face, gaped at Bridget.
Bridget realized her error instantly. To contradict a supervisor was a sin only slightly less egregious than affronting a doctor. What was wrong with her?
It was the fault of this man—this no-goodnik—standing at her elbow with her luggage. He was making her nervous and she needed to send him on his way. She pulled out her coin purse and handed him two quarters. “Thank you for your assistance, you can leave now.”
The man accepted the quarters with a quirk of his mouth. Bridget noticed the junior nurse had a hand over her mouth, unsuccessfully suppressing what sounded like a giggle. Bridget was nonplussed. What on earth had she done wrong?
“Dr. Sampson.” Larkin addressed the man with an unmistakable note of disdain. “Don’t you have better things to do with your time off?”
Doctor?Bridget’s cheeks burned and she wished the earth would open up and swallow her. The man was certainly not... doctorly. Those shorts and that hair—how was she to know? Now she’d gone and insulted him with a fifty-cent tip.
The man didn’t seem the least chagrined. He pocketed the two quarters and shrugged. “Not really.”
A muscle in Larkin’s cheek twitched. “Leave your luggage,” she ordered Bridget. “I’ll get the janitor to bring it up to your room. Beckett,” she barked at the junior nurse, “take Reilly upstairs. Her shift starts in five minutes.”
Bridget bristled at the injustice. She had a good mind to take out the letter that stated in black and white that she was toreportat four, notstartat four, but that wouldn’t do at all.
She’d never get the recommendation she needed at this rate.
“Don’t mind the old crow,” Beckett told her as she bounced down the hall. “We changed all the shift times last week because we’re so shorthanded.” Beckett gave Bridget a quick tour of the first floor and briefed her on the workings of the hospital. It was all quite standard, Bridget was glad to note, with modern equipment and the latest procedures. On the second floor, Beckett stopped at a nursing station staffed by a dark-haired nurse with a Jayne Mansfield figure. “This is Rita Finch,” she introduced the woman. “She’s second in seniority after Larkin.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” Bridget said.
Finch flashed a Colgate smile. “You have no idea how happy we are to see you.”
At Bridget’s raised brows, Beckett explained, “We’ve been down two nurses since...” She hesitated. “Well, for almost a month.”
“We’ve been simply worked off our feet.” Finch nodded.
Beckett pointed to the roster on the wall. “The other nurses are Ruth Bateman and Madge Jennings. Our senior doctor is Dr. Luek. You’ll meet him tomorrow.”
“Did she meet Dr. Sampson yet?” Finch asked breathlessly.
“Did she ever,” Beckett said with a grin.
“Isn’t he a dish?” Finch gave Bridget a once-over. “I called dibs on him, but now that you’re here I don’t have a chance.”
Bridget didn’t respond to that ridiculous comment. She had no interest in romance with doctors, especially one who had made her look like a fool.
Beckett brought her up another set of stairs to the third floor. The walls were drab green and the linoleum floor was cracked and peeling. “The washroom is at the end of the hall.” She waved at a telephone on the wall. “Larkin is a stickler about the phone. Short conversations only, and no long distance.” She rolled her eyes, then opened a door halfway down the hall and stepped back. “Home sweet home.”
Bridget stepped into her room for the next month. It was perfectly adequate... for a nun. A narrow bed, a window, and a small chest of drawers. Her suitcases took up most of the floor space. She reminded herself if all went well, she’d have her own apartment in Rochester by September. She thanked Beckett and quickly changed her clothes, pulling her white uniform over her girdle and nylons and pinning on her nurse’s cap. She’d need to impress Nurse Larkin to make up for her blunders.
Ten minutes later she endured Larkin’s decidedly unimpressed gaze.
“I’ll have you shadow me, Reilly,” she said. “Until I am sure you’re capable.”
Bridget bit her tongue. She had graduated at the top of her nursing class at St. Cloud Nursing Academy and had seven years of experience. She certainly didn’t appreciate being treated like a candy striper.
She got right to work, following Larkin as she made her rounds. “One very important rule,” Larkin said, handing her the clipboardafter they changed the dressing on a severe burn. “Under no circumstances are you to go on a callout after dark without a park ranger. Not here in Mammoth or if you are riding along in the ambulance. Do you understand?”
“Of course.” Bridget nodded, wondering at the head nurse’s severity. But she had no time to ask questions as Larkin moved rapidly from one patient to another. By the time Bridget’s shift ended at midnight, she was satisfied she’d made up for her poor start. As she signed off the floor, she fully expected a positive word from the supervising nurse. “Make sure you aren’t late tomorrow, Reilly,” was all Larkin said.
She trudged up the two flights of stairs with Beckett. “Don’t let it bug you,” Beckett said, covering a yawn with her hand.
