Serving the Soldier - Part 4 (An Alpha Military Romance) by Helen Grey

Chapter 1
    I watched them argue for several minutes. Putting my own feelings for Jax’s ex-wife aside, I tried to figure out what it was about her that had attracted a man like Jax to her in the first place. They appeared to be complete opposites in looks and temperament. Then again, wasn’t that how the old saying went? Opposites attract? Still.
    I didn't know the woman and had only met her briefly, but from those few moments, I gathered she was a bitch. A spoiled, greedy little bitch. Then again, maybe my hackles had just gone up from the moment I saw them sitting on the couch together, after Stephanie had removed the bandage. My nurse-ly indignation had risen to the surface.
    I still couldn't believe how stupid some people were. Jax could've died from his injuries, and the crazy woman had wanted to look at the surgical incision on his spine? Was she really that dense?
    Then again, maybe I’d read the situation all wrong. Maybe looking at the incision had made it all real for Stephanie or provided some type of closure. After all, she's been living in Seattle for who knows how long. I didn't know anything about them, how long they had been married, or what had broken it up. Who was I to judge?
    I knew Jax was a womanizer, I’d seen it with my own two eyes. Had he strayed? Had she? While waiting for weeks and months on end to receive word about him? Special Forces didn’t exactly make their schedules known to the public at large. My own father had been put on alert once, and for nearly a week my mother and I had nearly gone crazy with worry not knowing where he was; stateside or in a jungle or desert somewhere? As a military brat, I knew the life, at least from a daughter’s perspective. I could only imagine how much worse it might feel from a wife’s point of view.
    Still… if I had been married to Jax…
    Shut up , I told myself and pressed a hand over my eyes. I then realized that my initial knee-jerk reaction to her could very well have stemmed out of jealousy and envy. The ugly green monster? That certainly didn't make me feel any better.
    I was a nurse, and as soon as this job was over, I'd be moving on to another client. What was I doing getting emotionally involved with him anyway? Not that it’d never happened before; I often got emotionally attached to my elderly clients.
    For me anyway, the emotional attachment came with the job. Oh, I had known plenty of nurses who were able to maintain detachment, but in my view, that same detachment also left me feeling they didn’t really, truly, deep-down care. How could anyone take care of someone for days, weeks or even months and not experience some feelings for them?
    When I had a client or a patient under my charge, I was fully invested in their care. I was a good patient advocate, or so Nancy repeatedly told me. Not that it happened very often, but occasionally I found myself in minor and sometimes major—yet always respectful—disputes with spouses or extended family members regarding a patient's care. Yes, they were family, and they had a right to make decisions, but not medical ones in some circumstances. In many cases, a family member had no idea of the whys of certain medical decisions and plans of care. Many had no clue when it came to the day-to-day care of injuries, surgical recoveries, rehabilitation, or what was good for a patient, and what was not.
    In the past year, I think Nancy had been forced to see a judge to limit family access to two of our elderly patients. One family wasn’t keeping up with the medication schedule for an elderly grandmother, and the other family wasn’t providing any sort of social interaction for their disabled father, including doctor office visits. Both had suffered from neglect. Having to step into family matters was a difficult decision, but as a nurse, I felt it was my duty to see to the emotional, mental, and physical needs of the people I care for. My job was to improve their conditions, and when possible, their