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The man’s size made transport difficult and every second could mean the difference between life or death. The paramedics placed him on the stretcher and rolled him out to the ambulance.
The man’s wife had gone into shock and his son flew into hysterics. He screamed and cried after the paramedics.
“Don’t take my daddy. Please, don’t take my daddy. I’ve got to wake him up.”
He took off after the stretcher and, fighting tears, Kimberly wrapped her arms around his small body. He couldn’t be more than six or seven at most.
“Shh, they’re taking him to the hospital so they can care for him,” she whispered against his soft hair. “You’ve got to stay with your mom. She needs you to take care of her right now.”
“I need to go with my daddy. I have to wake him up.”
“I don’t think I can drive,” the woman cried, her voice breaking. “I’m shaking, and I don’t think I can drive. What if I crash?”
She looked at Kimberly in desperation.
“Kimberly will drive you and your son in my car, and I’ll lead the way in yours,” Daniel said, coming back to where they were after he’d helped the paramedics with the man. “That way you’ll have your car when you’re ready to leave the hospital.”
Kimberly nodded, still holding the young boy in her arms and trying not to let tears flow at the stony detachment on Daniel’s face.
But when he looked at her, met her gaze, the utter loss in his eyes undid her resolve and moisture stung her cheeks.
Oh, Daniel.
Looking numb, the woman nodded.
“Let’s go.” He turned and headed back out of the restaurant, ignoring the cheers and backslaps that the other patrons gave him for what he’d done for the man.
Kimberly watched him go, clutching the trembling little boy to her the way she wanted to hold Daniel, to comfort his losses.
Only she knew he’d shrug away any attempts she made to comfort him. He’d only ever talked about his dad on one occasion and that had been brief.
It had been Leona who’d told her how Daniel’s father had died, how it had affected Daniel, why it was so important that he fulfill his dreams of becoming a cardiologist.
On a daily basis Daniel faced his demons in the sterile setting of the hospital and he kept them tightly in check.
But here, in a restaurant with an innocent little boy watching, Daniel hadn’t been able to control those repressed emotions.
The little boy gulped a deep breath, reminding Kimberly that, as much as she longed to go to Daniel, she had others to take care of at the moment.
“I’m Kimberly Brookes,” she introduced herself to the boy and his mother, keeping her voice calm, soothing. “I’m a registered nurse. And that—” her gaze went to where Daniel rounded the corner of the entranceway “—is Dr. Daniel Travis.”
“Beverly Reynolds,” the woman said, shakily getting to her feet and wrapping her arms around her son. “And this is Devon.”
“He’s a hero, ma’am. A real-life hero,” the waiter who’d called for the ambulance announced, earning several bellows of agreement from the crowd.
“Yes,” Kimberly agreed, “he is.”
Daniel had always been the hero of her heart.
Daniel raked a hand through his hair and leaned against the wall outside the operating room where Greg was performing open-heart surgery on Ken Reynolds.
His partner had asked if he’d wanted to come in and help with the procedure. Daniel had declined.
Because of fear.
Because of the sickness churning in the pit of his stomach.
Because he was a coward and couldn’t face the monitor if the man’s heart stopped again.
