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He smiled, although he didn’t even glance in her direction. “You’re renting a cabin here for a month to do some medical writing. Live in New York City otherwise.”
“And my zodiac sign?”
He chuckled. “Give me ten more minutes and I’ll not only tell you your zodiac sign, I’ll describe your high-school graduation in detail.”
“That bad here?” she asked.
“Or good, depending on your point of view. The people here describe it as caring and, for the most part, I think that’s right.” Finally, he glanced at her, but for only a second. “I’m Beau Alexander, by the way. Local and possibly temporary doctor, aspiring horse breeder, mender of fences.”
She’d known who he was, but hearing the name—from him—still shocked her, made her reason for being here even more real. Scared her, too. Most of all it made her feel sad, thinking about the way such a happy pregnancy was turning out. “I think I may be renting the cabin above your ranch.”
“Above the Clouds. Nice view. Been up there a couple of—”
His words were cut off by the ringing of Deanna’s cellphone, and without thinking she clicked it on. Listened for a second. Drew in a deep breath. “It’s the people in the car,” she said to Beau.
“What?”
“I gave them my cellphone number in case they wanted to call me. So they’re calling.”
“Damn,” he muttered, impressed with her resourcefulness. More than that, impressed with everything he’d seen of her so far. “Good thinking.”
“Only thing that came to mind. So, do you want to do this?”
He shook his head. “Got to stay focused on the driver, and I have to go back into the truck as soon as the fire department shows up and can keep the door open for me.” The distant wail of several sirens caused him to sigh in relief.
“They’re at Turner’s Points now … you can tell by the echo. Turner’s is the first place in the canyon that catches the sound like that. And it means they’ll be here in about five minutes.” He ran up to the truck windshield and gave the man a thumbs-up then turned back to Deanna, who was already on her way back to the side of the road where the car had gone over.
“Deanna,” he shouted to her, “direct the medical end of the rescue when they get here, because when I get back into the truck I’m not getting out until after my patient does.” Meaning he was going to have to wedge himself into a damned uncomfortable spot practically underneath the man, and stay put. He had to brace the man’s leg, hopefully apply some kind of a splint, before they could move him, and at the same time keep his fingers crossed that the driver would survive the efforts to cut him out of there.
He glanced back at her, watched the way she instructed the paramedics who’d just arrived. He observed her body language, her no-nonsense stance, and liked her instantly. He wished he could have someone like her working alongside him every day.
“Hire someone like Deanna,” he grunted, more to himself than out loud as he hauled himself up the side of the truck after two firefighters had dismantled the door for him and tossed it down on the road like it weighed no more than a plastic water bottle.
“Couldn’t hurt,” he said under his breath as he reached the top then started to lower himself back inside. “Might even help.”
Considering the way he and his grandfather were battling over how to run a medical practice, he was pretty sure that having someone capable like Deanna involved would be another of the old man’s objections. But Beau had to have his say in the matter if he was going to stay here permanently. And having a nurse or a medical assistant seemed like a good idea.
He’d known her for only a few minutes yet he wanted Deanna. Snap judgment and right fit, he believed. But he’d heard she was only renting for a month, which meant she wasn’t staying in Sugar Creek. So now the problem was that Deanna had become the only person who flitted across his mind’s eye when he thought about hiring another staffer. And she was such a nice fit he wasn’t sure how to alter that image.
“Well, Mack, this ought to be pretty easy, once I get you splinted up,” he said, trying to sound optimistic in order to bolster the truck driver’s spirits.
“Don’t think it’s going to be easy, Doc. But I’m willing to give it a try. Need to be home later … wife’s having a few friends over for dinner. It’s my granddaughter’s fifth birthday. Don’t want to miss that.”
“Just one granddaughter?” Beau asked, looking through the windshield at Deanna, still admiring what he saw. Striking woman. Tall. Hair the color of honey. Very subdued, though. Here, in the middle of this accident, showing so much command, she had such a sense of calmness about her. It baffled him because, as experienced as he was as a surgeon, he was still feeling the adrenalin rush.
“Just the one.” he said. “Got a grandson, though, who just turned two. You a family man, Doc? You got kids?”
“Nope. Had a wife for a while. It didn’t work out. Glad now we didn’t get around to having children because she was …” he did a quick visual assessment of Mack as he climbed past him then lowered himself to a position almost underneath him “… selfish. And that’s being kind.” Pulling a flashlight from his pocket, he looked at the man’s leg for a second time. Definitely a fractured tibia. Not mangled but also not good.
“Married her for her looks, got what I deserved because when you got past the looks all that was there was pure, unadulterated selfishness.” For all intents and purposes.
“That bad, eh, Doc?”
“Bad doesn’t even begin to describe it,” Beau said, shifting position but trying to keep well away from his patient. Outside, he could hear the noise level increasing, multiple voices shouting. “Next time …” He drew in a shuddering breath. “No next time. At least, not for a long, long time.”
Mack chuckled then sucked in a sharp breath. “I got lucky the first time out,” he said, his voice noticeably weaker than it had been even a minute before. “Married the perfect woman, had thirty-five good years so far. Hoping I’ll have a few …” Another gasp for air. “A few more.”
I hope so too, Beau said to himself as a blanket dropped down from the door opening.
“Cover you two up,” the burly voice shouted. “Windshield’s coming out next.”
Seconds after that the windshield had gone, and Beau was amazed by the speed with which everything was happening. He’d never worked a rescue from this end of it, and he wondered how many times over the years his grandfather had been called on to do something like this. It was a side of Brax he’d never considered, and he felt embarrassed that he hadn’t. “Need a splint in here,” he called. “And MAST trousers.”
“What can I do from out here?” Deanna yelled to him from just beyond the front of the truck. “I’ve got rescuers setting up to go over the side right now to help the people in the car, and I’m not needed there until they bring them up. So what can I do for you in the meantime?”
“Oxygen, IV set-up … fast fluids.”
“Already got them set up.”
“Possible field amp.” No way he was going to say “amputation” where the patient could hear, but if internal injuries didn’t turn into an issue, the mangled leg might. “You OK with that?” he asked.
“Sure, I’m OK. I’ll get everything together,” she said, turning and running back to the rescue truck.
“She’s a pretty one, too, Doc,” Mack said, his voice almost gone now. “Better watch out.”
Mack was right. Deanna was already fascinating him way more than she should. “Look, Mack, this is going to be a little tricky because of the way you’re wedged in. Your right leg is pretty bad, and you might have a fractured pelvis. Not sure what we’re going to do about those yet because I think you could also have some internal bleeding going on because of the way the steering-wheel is shoved into your belly.”
He glanced up as one of the medics fresh to the scene dangled into the door opening, endeavoring to take the driver’s blood pressure. “Since you’re pressed so tight against the wheel, it’s serving as a pressure bandage of sorts, keeping the blood circulating to your vital organs. But once the wheel is removed, there’s a good chance you’re going to experience a major internal hemorrhage.” A mild understatement as once he was unwedged, the fight would be on to save him.
“So there’s going to be some surgery in your future as soon as we can get you to the hospital. Right now, because you’re in shock, you’re not feeling so much pain. But in another minute, when we make the big move to get you out of here … I’m not going to lie to you. It’s going to hurt like hell. But that pretty nurse out there’s got an IV with your name on it, and she’s ready to get some painkillers into you. Are you with me so far?”
“Doesn’t sound like a picnic, Doc. But I’m with you.”
“Good, because it’s going to happen pretty fast now.” He watched Deanna direct the stretcher to just outside the truck then recheck the supplies laid out for this part of the rescue. Sill cool as the proverbial cucumber, she was the only one involved here who didn’t seem frantic.
“Can I ask you one favor, Doc?”
“Sure. What is it?”
“Somewhere in the back I’ve got a birthday present for my granddaughter. However this turns out, would you see that she gets it?”
A lump formed in Beau’s throat. “How about I save it for you to give to her?” he said. “And I’ll tell her to save you some birthday cake.”
“Appreciate it, Doc. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to call my wife …”
“You talk while I splint your leg and get you ready to move.” He didn’t want to hear the conversation, it would be too personal.
So he bit his lower lip hard to create a distraction for himself and quickly splinted Mack’s lower leg, trying to block out the way Mack was trying to be supportive to his wife even though he was the one in critical condition. Trying to block out thoughts of Nancy, who didn’t have it in her to think of anyone but herself in a critical situation.
Pulling the last elastic bandage into place around Mack’s splint, Beau started to withdraw himself from the cab to allow the standby firefighters and medics their turn with him. “OK, let’s get you out of here and on the next helicopter to the hospital. You with me?”
Mack’s cellphone dropped to the floor, which was actually the passenger-side door, and as Beau twisted to grab it for him, he saw the wrapped birthday present and grabbed it as well. Something soft, a stuffed animal, he guessed.
“Deanna,” he yelled, then tossed it out for her to catch. “Mack, cross your arms over your chest and let the medics do all the work. And, please, don’t fight against them.” After one last check to make sure Mack was as stable as possible, Beau unwedged himself all the way and practically poured out of the front of the truck, bouncing off the hood then hitting the ground with a thump, landing rather ungraciously on his bum right at Deanna’s feet.
“You OK?” she asked, extending a hand to him to help him up.
“No, I’m not,” he snapped, taking hold of her hand—such soft skin—and righting himself. “Sorry. I’m OK, but my patient …” He shrugged then looked back at the truck as the firefighters cut away large chunks of the truck to get at its driver.
“Look, Beau, I don’t do this too often … patient care. Especially trauma and field rescue. But I understand the basics, we’re as ready for him as we can be. So just tell me what I need to be doing.”
He nodded. “What about the car that went over?”
“Both people inside are injured, one conscious, one not. Until the rescuers get into the car, we won’t know any more.”
“OK, then.” He looked at the MAST trousers, which Deanna had laid out on the ground and opened up all the way. They were essentially the same as a blood-pressure cuff, with all the same sticky fasteners, gauges and tubes running in and out to blow them up. If knowing how to get them ready was what Deanna called the basics, she was greatly underestimating herself. “Let’s do this.”
Giving a nod to the rescuers in the truck, who were awaiting his direction, Beau stepped away from the trousers to allow the rescuers a clear path then turned to watch them cut away the steering-wheel and dashboard, almost in the blink of an eye.
In that same blink of an eye his patient ripped out the most blood-curdling scream imaginable. Beau drew in a shuddering breath and felt the squeeze of Deanna’s hand on his arm. “I hate this,” he whispered. “Damn, I hate this.”
“I’ve got morphine ready.”
Another awful scream and her squeeze tightened. “If he lives that long.”
“He’ll live that long.” Deanna dropped to her knees as the firefighters ran forward and laid the driver directly atop the open trousers. Immediately she began to pull one of the legs over Mack’s left leg, while Beau did the same with the right, and in a fraction of a second, they were both closing the fasteners.
There was another scream from Mack but this one weaker, and at the end of it he passed out. “Stay with us,” Beau said, as he pumped pressure into the trousers. “You’ve got birthday cake to eat.”
“Birthday cake?” Deanna asked, without diverting her attention from the site she was cleaning on Mack’s arm for an IV.
“His granddaughter’s birthday. You’re not bad for a writer, by the way. Pretty good skill sets in the field.”
“Not bad for a writer who’s putting an IV in someone who doesn’t have a blood pressure,” Deanna corrected, then smiled as she slid the needle into the vein near the crook of Mack’s left arm.
“Do you like working trauma?” he asked, still astounded by her efficiency.
After she had taped the IV in place, she glanced over at Beau, who was listening to heart and breath sounds. “Don’t dislike it. Not sure I’d want a steady diet of it, though.” Returning her attention to her patient, she attached the IV tubing then hooked that to a bag of Ringer’s, which would help replace fluid volume lost through bleeding. “And you?”
“Surgeon, by training. Country GP … by obligation. Maybe by choice, but I haven’t made up my mind yet.”
“Ah, two diverse worlds with just as diverse appeals.” She signaled for the medic to hand her an oxygen mask then placed it on Mack’s face.
“Maybe too diverse,” he said, leaning over Mack to check his eyes for pupillary response. “Not sure where I fit yet.”
“Which is why you’re here?”
“I’m here because my grandfather isn’t able to manage his practice any longer, and there’s no one else to take care of his patients until I decide if I want to stay or bring somebody else in. He needed me, even though the old coot isn’t about to admit it.”
“Am I sensing family discord?”
“More like family stubbornness.” He pushed himself away from Mack, then stood up and waved for the medics to take the man. “Not such an endearing trait, I’ve been told.”
“So now what?” she asked, as she also stood, then stepped back. “An hour or so to the hospital? Will he be able to do that in his condition”
“Less, by helicopter.”
“If you can get one. Airlift in areas such as this isn’t always convenient when you need it.”
“Unless you own a helicopter.”
She arched her eyebrows. “I’m impressed.”
“I was too when my grandfather bought it. Not so much now that I have to fly it.”
“You fly?”
He shrugged. “Somebody has to. But normally I sit in the back with the patient and let Joey do the flying. He manages the ranch, tends the horses and my grandfather, flies the chopper.” Something about her made him lose all caution, and just when he thought he’d perfected the fine art of keeping his privacy at all costs. Another pretty face, he decided. Like Mack had said—watch out!
“So we’ll transport Mack to your helicopter, and …”
“And hope the people they’re going to bring up from over the edge can make do with an hour’s ride in the back of an ambulance.”
“You really are deprived out here, aren’t you?”
“Not deprived,” he said, not so much offended by her remark as curious about it. “Slowed down, forced to be inventive.”
“My mistake,” she said, following Beau, who was running along behind the medics who were ready to load Mack into the back of an ambulance that would transport him to the Alexander landing strip.
“Logical conclusion. Look, you handle the rest of it. I’ve got to go.” Which was exactly what he did. He climbed into the ambulance with Mack then watched Deanna until the doors shut on him. Even then, he stared through the tiny window until she was but a speck in the distance.
Deanna Lambert … Their paths had been meant to cross, he decided. He didn’t know why, didn’t even know what kind of medical writing she did. But it didn’t matter. Something had just started, and while he didn’t know what it was, he was anxious to find out.
CHAPTER THREE
“NICE VIEW OF my grandfather’s ranch,” Beau said, settling into the porch chair next to Deanna. He stretched out his long legs. “He used to hate it that someone up here could sit and watch what he was doing. But then he discovered the beauty of a good pair of binoculars and while I haven’t seen him actually watching anybody up here, I think it gives him a certain sense of satisfaction knowing he can look up as well as they—or you—can look down.”
“I don’t blame him. I don’t like being watched either. I spent a lot of my youth having people looking at me, trying to figure out what to do with me, and now I like to keep to myself.”
“And yet you’re a nurse?”
“Not in the sense most people would think of it but, yes, I’m a nurse.” They were seated on the north porch this morning, watching the emerging new day and trying to forget all the haunting, hideous memories from yesterday.
Her parents had died in a car wreck. Then Emily had asked, “Deanna, can I come stay with you for a few days? Alex and I had a fight and I may leave him for good.” Rainy day, emotions overpowering rational thought, horrible outcome. Deanna cringed, reliving it, not sure she ever wanted to get into another car. So she fixed her attention on the vast forest she could see from her porch. Concentrated on something pleasant, for herself but mostly for the baby. “This is lovely, though, isn’t it? So many trees. Nature everywhere you look.”
Beau chuckled. “Sounds like you’ve been cooped up too much.”
“I get out, it’s always about work, though. Never really have much time to relax and when I do, my view at home is the rooftop next door. From just the right position, which is my left shoulder pressed to the wall with my neck cranked to a forty-five-degree angle, I can look out of one of my windows and see part of the city skyline. But I usually come away with sore muscles if I do that so I keep my curtains closed.”
