Patient Nurse by Diana Palmer Page B

gone to France after having asked Noreen to stay with Isadora and look after her. Noreen had agreed gladly, giving up her free days to take care of her cousin.
    Everyone had thought that Noreen let Isadora die. Now, Ramon felt he knew and could accept the truth. It had been a tragic round of circumstances, ending with Noreen’s mild heart attack. And he and the Kensingtons hadn’t even allowed her to defend herself. They’d blamed her, isolated her, punished her for something that wasn’t her fault, for two long years. No wonder she withdrew from Ramon’s touch, from his offers of help.
    He groaned aloud. How could he have been so arrogantly judgmental? How could he have overlooked Noreen’s compassion, branded her as a merciless killer? He was as guilty as she was. He was more guilty. He’d left Isadora behind out of necessity, because she couldn’t safely fly in that condition. But only now did he admit that he hadn’t wanted to take her with him.
    His fairy-tale marriage had been going steadily downhill. He and Isadora had fought constantly at the last, especially on the day he’d left, and his conscience had beaten him over it, again and again. He’d wanted some time to himself. It was his absence as much as Noreen’s that had led to Isadora’s death, but he hadn’t been able to admit his guilt or have anyone know that his blissful marriage was a sort of hell. And now it was too late to make any difference. Noreen wanted no part of him. She never had. She’d backed away from him constantly over the past six years, especially after his marriage to Isadora. How could he blame her?
    If only there was still time to make it up to her, he thought sadly. He couldn’t take back the past two years, but he could make her life a little easier. He had to talk to the Kensingtons. They had to be made to understand, too. Noreen had been done a great wrong. Now it was up to him to make it right. He hoped he could.
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    Noreen was able to walk around the unit three times the next day, with Brad lending her his support. She laughed at her own light-headedness, but she kept on, grinning at the nurses as she trundled along. Several of the patients were up walking today. All of them were steadily improving and looking healthier. The stimulation of walking kept the new valve working and helped clear her lungs and build her strength back up. She never doubted that she was going to be able to walk out of here within days. Her pleasure showed in her face.
    At least, it did until Ramon came onto the ward and she saw him in her path. Her brilliant smile faded. Her eyes went lackluster and her gaze dropped abruptly to the floor. Her hand clung tight to Brad’s long arm.
    â€œGood,” Ramon said, ignoring her lack of animation. “Walking is just what you need to do, as often as you can manage. It will make your recovery easier.”
    â€œThis is our third time around,” Brad told him. “She’s making progress.”
    â€œYes, so I see.”
    â€œWe need to move on,” she told Brad. “I get wobbly when I stand still.”
    â€œBrad, you’re needed in 310,” one of the nurses called. “Mr. Sharp says his medicine’s running out on the breathing machine.”
    Brad hated to desert her, and his expression reflected it. “I’ll take her the rest of the way around,” Ramon said, moving to take Brad’s place. “See to your patient.”
    â€œYes, sir,” Brad said, casting an apologetic glance at Noreen, who looked as if she’d just been turned over to the headsman.
    â€œIt won’t kill you to touch me,” Ramon said tersely, guiding her hand to his forearm. “Come on. Walk.”
    She did, hating him, hating the curious glances of the other workers—it was unusual for a surgeon to take time to loiter with a patient while he was doing rounds.
    â€œHow’s the pain?” he asked as