The multi-vehicle accident had been brutal. They’d lost one of the victims, unable to resuscitate him. He’d coded twice in the ambulance on the way, and the team had worked on him for forty minutes until the attending had finally, reluctantly, called it.
It was always difficult to lose a patient, but his injuries had been too severe for them to save him. Then they’d concentrated on taking care of everyone else, including the man’s wife and two children who’d also been injured, though nothing life threatening. Thank goodness.
They’d recover. But a woman had lost her husband, and those kids had lost their dad. The attending physician had been the one to tell the wife that her husband hadn’t made it. Some day that would be her job.
She wasn’t looking forward to it. She was in the business of saving lives, not losing them.
It had been a rough night, and she’d gone home, fallen into bed and immediately passed out until she woke about five p.m., dazed and groggy. Six hours was a lot of sleep for her. She’d headed straight for her coffeemaker, eaten a bowl of oatmeal and then taken a shower, both of which had helped a lot.
Then she’d gone through her phone and seen Tucker’s text. And when he’d asked if she’d come to the game, the logical part of her brain had told her to say no.
But she sensed the eagerness in his request, so here she was, in the owner’s box, smiling as she greeted her dad.
He hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. “This is a surprise. You hardly ever come to the games anymore. You’re always working.”
“I did a double shift last night, then took a nice nap. I thought I’d pop in.”
“I’m glad you’re here.” He put his arm around her. “It’s a good series to watch.”
He led her over to the bar, where she had the bartender fix her a Bloody Mary. She sat down at one of the front tables with her dad, a spot with a great view of the on-field action.
“Tell me how work is going,” he said.
“Busy. Intense. Brutal at times. Had a rough night last night.” She told him about her double shift.
He smoothed his hand over her hair. “What you do isn’t for everyone. It takes someone with a lot of heart—and grit—to handle it. You’re tough, Aubry. A lot tougher than most people. It’s why at first I thought you could handle this business. But when you gravitated toward medicine, I knew you could do that as well.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Sometimes all she needed were her father’s pep talks. He was good at being frank with her. In college, when she’d been down about how hard the workload and pressure were, he’d reminded her she was smart, and that she could handle anything. He’d also told her the Rosses weren’t wusses, and she needed to rise to the challenge. He wasn’t one to coddle his only daughter. So while her mother had always given her a shoulder to lean on, her father had given her tough love.
Sometimes she’d needed both.
He sat and studied her. “You have dark circles under your eyes.”
Then again, he wasn’t always complimentary when she needed it the most. “Like I said—double shift yesterday. Those are the worst.”
“But you love it.”
As if she needed convincing. She laughed. “Yes. I love it. It’s everything I imagined it would be.”
He smiled and squeezed her hand. “You can handle it, Aubry. No matter what they throw at you, even when it’s awful, you’ll handle it.”
She had always loved her father’s confidence in her. “Yes, Dad. I can handle it. Where’s Mom tonight?”
“It’s her night with the ladies from the country club. They’re going to one of the casinos.”
“Uh-oh. Spending more of my inheritance, huh?” she asked with a wink.
“Yup. I guess you’re just gonna have to go make your own way in life, kiddo.”
She laid the back of her hand against her forehead. “Oh, woe is me.”
He smiled and put his arm around her. “Come on. Let’s grab a bite to eat before the game starts. You can tell me more horror stories about work.”
The last thing she wanted to do was talk about work, so she engaged her father in discussions about the team, as well as Ross Enterprises. She’d been involved in the company since she was old enough to understand the rudimentary workings of what both her parents did for a living. And while she’d always found it fascinating—especially the sports angle—it had never dulled her love for medicine.
She could still appreciate her father’s passion for the game, something he’d instilled in her at an early age. She’d mostly been teasing Tucker when she told him she preferred football, though that was a sport she enjoyed as well.