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Ten minutes later, I’m scrubbed in and standing beside Drake and his team in surgical suite #2.

Lucy, the other RN in the room, was fine taking over the circulating nurse responsibilities for this operation. We thought it would be best since she knows the layout of the room. I’ve scrubbed in for enough surgeries that I can comfortably assist Drake during this procedure. And then there’s Barbara, who’s acting as RN first assistant and will spend the majority of the surgery monitoring the patient for signs of distress.

“Abigail, this is Dr. Connor,” Drake says, nodding toward the man sitting at the head of the patient’s bed. “He’s the anesthesiologist with us today. Bruce, this is Abigail. She’ll be working on the med-surg floor for the next several weeks.”

“Welcome,” he says, offering me a warm smile.

Drake preps the patient and nods to Lucy. A second later, rock music filters through the speakers, and Drake holds out his hand.

“Scalpel.”

“I didn’t peg you for a Led Zeppelin fan,” I say, handing him the instrument.

Every surgeon is different. Some blare the music—songs and artists you’d never expect—while others like silence. I prefer it like this, just enough music to drown out the sounds of surgery, but not so loud that you can’t carry on a conversation.

Dr. Connor chuckles behind his mask as Drake concentrates on the patient. “None of us did. I swear this kid grew up in the wrong generation.”

“Wait until you hear him belt out the lyrics to Black Sabbath,” Barbara says.

If Drake’s face weren’t covered by the mask, I’m sure I’d see him smile—his eyes crinkle above it.

“Only during surgery and when I hike.”

“You hike?” I don’t know why I’m surprised. This is Montana, after all.

He nods, and Dr. Connor continues to carry the conversation. “He does it all. Snow skiing, hiking, snowboarding, mountain biking—”

“Snowshoeing,” Drake adds.

“If it’s an outdoor activity, he’s doing it. What about you, Abigail? Are you the outdoorsy type?”

“Please, call me Abby. And I’d like to say yes, but honestly, I’ve spent the last five years consumed with college and starting my career. So I haven’t gotten to do much more than study and sleep.”

“Where are you from?” Barbara asks, monitoring one of the many machines in the room.

“Kansas, but I’ve lived in Heaven, Texas, most of my life.”

“I’ve been there once. It’s beautiful and hot. How are you handling the temperatures here?”

“Not too bad. I had to stock up on winter clothes, but it’s honestly not as cold as I expected.”

“You came in at the tail end of winter, and it’s been mild for us this year.”

“I know, I was hoping there would still be snow on the ground. I’ve only seen snow once in my life, and it was only half an inch.”

Everyone laughs.

“That isn’t snow,” Lucy says. “We’re supposed to have a cold front come through next week. If you’re lucky, you might get to see what real snow looks like.”

“I’ll ke

ep my fingers crossed.”

Our conversation dies off, and we work silently side by side as Drake repairs the inguinal hernia. I follow along with him, anticipating his needs and handing him various instruments before he has a chance to ask for them.

As Drake finishes up with the actual surgery, he glances at me. “You’re pretty good at this.”

“Thanks.”

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