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the thing that was really scary was that some of the doctors with the most loyal patients were the worst of the women haters.
    She’d never quite figured out why. Those guys usually had a good knack with the patter. They were great at holding hands and telling the women to leave everything to them, but when push came to delivery, they were usually nowhere to be found. They were rough and manipulative and heavily into control.
    There was no better friend, no kinder, more sincerely empathetic man than the obstetrician who loved woman. There was no bigger asshole than his opposite. Casey just couldn’t figure yet into which category Hunsacker fit.
    She would have been intrigued to get a chance to observe him. Unfortunately, the next time he showed up at the emergency room, so did an entire bus of senior citizens who hadn’t quite gotten to their bingo game and a sizable percentage of the county’s preschoolers.
    It was Casey’s night to triage, and she’d been dealt a full house. Not only that, but Abe Belstein was on his second twelve-hour shift in a row, and on a tear about the other doctor he got to work with.
    “Somebody better light a fire under her ass!” he screamed at Casey, hands on hips and chin thrust forward. At five-two, Casey was the only nurse shorter than Abe, so he brought his problems to her. Like she could solve them.
    Abe was short, squat, and had a face like rising bread dough. Fuzzy red hair ringed his mostly bald head, and he had the temper of a six-year-old. But Abe was good, Abe carried his load and respected the nurses, so everybody overlooked the tantrums.
    “Abe, you’re the doctor,” Casey reminded him, trying to placate him and update the triage log at the same time. “They pay you the big bucks to deal with the other doctors. They don’t even pay me enough to listen to you yell.”
    “ Do something about her!”
    Dropping her pen, Casey finally sighed. “There’s a county cop in the work lane. How ’bout if I just have him shoot her and be done with it?”
    Abe decided not to hear the sarcasm. “Just do it soon,” he demanded and whirled to leave, shoving his yarmulke back into place.
    He didn’t make it more than two feet. One of the twisted limbs he’d treated that evening was attached to the inelegant young lady who suddenly presented herself before him. Clad in shrink-wrapped tank top, jeans, and heels, she was a vision of dyed black hair and feathered earrings. She was also about six inches taller than Abe.
    “Oh, hey, Doc. There you are,” she accused, pulling to a halt scant inches from his nose. “Good. That nurse in there wouldn’t give me nothin’ for pain. And I hurt more now, ya know? In other places.”
    Abe began looking around for escape. And for good reason. In point of fact, there was more than just the red hair that made Abe distinctive. Living proof of the law of compensation, Abe’s short height and homely looks were offset by a truly awesome genital endowment. It provoked hushes of reverence in the locker room, rampant speculation among staff, and some really unique reactions from women everywhere. Especially, though, women in the emergency room.
    “I don’t think…”
    He never had a chance.
    “Just look, will ya?” the patient asked. Before Abe could move, or at least back up, she yanked up her shirt to prove that not only was she without a bra, but that Harley Davidson owned her considerable heart. Abe, unfortunately, was eye to eye with Harley’s eagle.
    Casey choked. Abe yelped. Several mothers hovering near the front desk grabbed their children and ran.
    “Casey!”
    Casey just smiled and walked on by. “Well, I can see you’re busy, Dr. Belstein. I’ll go talk to Dr. Miller for you.”
    Her mood much improved, Casey headed off in the other direction to scout for empty rooms. Her waiting room was filling with walking wounded with nowhere to go. And Dr. Miller was, true to Abe’s complaint, spending much more time with her medical