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chest, then took up a position at the foot of the bed, supervising the evaluation.
    “Excuse me,” Zack said to the woman, who wore a white lab coat over her scrubs. “Could I speak to you for a moment?”
    The woman turned, and Zack felt an immediate spark of interest. She was in her early thirties, he guessed, if that, with short beach-sand hair, fine, very feminine features, and vibrant, almost iridescent, blue-green eyes. Instinctively, and quite out of character for him given the situation, Zack glanced at her left hand. There was no ring.
    “I … I’m Dr. Iverson, Zachary Iverson,” he said.
Had he actually stammered?
“I’m a neurosurgeon due to start on the staff here tomorrow. That woman we just brought in is … I mean was … sort of like my governess when I was young. Mine and my brother Franks.”
    “Now there’s a name I recognize,” the woman said, cocking her head to one side as if appraising a painting in a museum.
    “Yes,” Zack said. Several seconds passed before he realized that he had not yet finished explaining what he wanted. He cleared his throat. “Well. Frank said he would arrange for a cardiologist—a Dr. Cole, I think he said his name was;—to come in and take over Annie’s care. Has he arrived yet?”
    “No,” the woman said thoughtfully. “No, he hasn’t, Doctor.”
    Her expression was at once coy and challenging, and Zack, often oblivious to women’s attempts at nonverbal interplay, felt ill-equipped to respond with an expression of his own.
    “I see,” he said finally, wondering if he was looking as flustered and restless as he was feeling. His ego was goading him to be assertive—to remind the woman that, while he might have momentarily been taken aback by her, he was, at least until the arrival of Dr. Cole, in charge. He cleared his throat again and, unconsciously, stood more erect. “Well, then,” he went on, with a bit more officiousness than he hadintended, “would you please have someone call him again, I’ll be in there with Mrs. Doucette. Just send him in as soon as he gets here. Also, could you order an EKG and a portable chest X ray.”
    “Certainly, Doctor,” the woman said as he strode past her and into the room.
    Bravo
, his ego cheered.
Well handled
. He glanced back over his shoulder. The woman had not yet moved. “Could you call the lab, too, please,” he ordered, wishing her eyes would stop smiling at him that way. “Routine bloods.”
    “Certainly,” she said. “Cardiac enzymes, too?”
    Damn her cool, Zack thought. “Yes, of course,” he responded. “Have them draw extra tubes as well. Dr. Cole can order whatever else he wants when he gets here.”
    He walked to the bedside without waiting for an acknowledgment of his request, and forced himself not to look back.
    Annie’s eyes, still closed, were beginning to flutter.
    “I’m Dr. Iverson,” he said to the two nurses who were attending her. “How’s she doing?”
    “Her pressures up to a hundred over sixty,” one of them, a husky, matronly woman in her fifties, said. “She’s moved both arms and both legs, and it looks like she’s about to wake up.”
    “Good,” Zack said, aware that a portion of his thoughts, at least, were not focused on the matter at hand. He slipped his stethoscope into place and checked Annie’s heart and lungs. “Annie, it’s Zack,” he said into her ear. “Can you hear me?”
    Annie Doucette moaned softly. Then, almost imperceptibly, she nodded.
    “You passed out, Annie. You’re at the hospital now and you’re going to be all right. Do you understand that?” Again, a nod. “Good. Just relax and rest. You’re doing fine.” He turned to the nurse. “Dr. Cole’s due here any minute. Until he gets here, we’ll just keep doing what we’re doing.”
    The nurse looked at him queerly, then glanced over at the door. Zack followed her line of sight and found himself, once again, confronting the enigmatic ocean-green eyes. This time,