Amalie Berlin - His Surgeon Under The Southern Lights / Reunited In The Snow

“Looks like you’re doing okay. Hang in there. I’ll take over for you, Chip.”

“Thanks. I’ll check on you as soon as I’m done here, Pete.”

Chip moved away and Zeke held Pete steady as his dark eyes moved to meet Jordan’s. “What did he hurt?”

“About to find out. Arm or shoulder, based on what he said.”

“Are we taking him to the clinic? Is it ready?”

“Is that a real question, Mr. Field Medic?” She smiled. “It’s not fully pulled together yet but ready to see patients. But you don’t need to come.”

“Might as well see if I can help, since you’re alone there until the next boat arrives.”

“Appreciate it.” And she did. Much as she could handle whatever was going on alone if she had to, if something was broken or dislocated, having someone there to assist would be a big help, especially without a nurse.

“That was a pretty exciting maneuver there, Pete. Wish I’d gotten it on video,” Zeke said as he kept a steadying hand behind Pete’s back.

The man managed a weak laugh. “Yeah. I’m never going to hear the end of this.”

“Being famous for crashing during the snowmobile practice is better than nobody knowing who you are, right? A good way to introduce yourself to the women at the base, who’ll all feel sorry for you and ask how you’re feeling.”

“One way to look at it, I guess. Thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome.”

Zeke grinned at Pete, and Jordan had to smile at the way he was taking Pete’s mind off his pain, which she had no doubt had been his goal.

As they moved through the long building, he proved to be a big help even before they got to the clinic, since he knew where to find an elevator so they could avoid most of the stairs. A good thing, because she’d been a little worried that the patient might be feeling light-headed and have trouble with that kind of exertion.

“Okay, let’s get your coat and shirt off,” she said once they’d gotten him seated on the exam table she’d thankfully just fitted with sheets and a blue paper cover. She and Zeke each carefully tugged at the wide sleeves of his coat and slipped it off, then unbuttoned his flannel shirt and did the same thing, exposing a fairly tight long-sleeved shirt beneath it.

“I hate to tell you this, but we’re going to have to cut this shirt off. Trying to move your arm and shoulder enough to get it off over your head isn’t a good idea. Okay?”

“Aw, man, I only have one duffel of clothes here to last me the year. But okay.”

“I’ll find scissors and get that done, Dr. Flynn,” Zeke said. “And don’t worry, Pete, we can always get more clothes sent here. It just takes some patience before it arrives.” With quick, efficient movements, he had the shirt off in mere moments, which surprised Jordan. Trained medic or not, it wasn’t what he did for a living, and she couldn’t imagine he dealt with medical emergencies very often in his line of work.

Slowly, she moved her hands along Pete’s arm, elbow and up to his shoulder, and when the man gasped and uttered a sharp cry, her eyes lifted to meet Zeke’s.

“Dislocation, probably, don’t you think?” Zeke said.

Just looking at it, she’d suspected the same thing, but her physical exam pretty much confirmed it, and she nodded. “Most likely. Which isn’t fun, but better than a break. I’ll get the portable X-ray to be sure. Is your arm numb or tingling, Pete? Can you move it?”

“Can hardly move it. And yeah, numb, and it hurts. A lot.”

“How much pain, on a scale of one to ten, with ten being the worst?”

“I think an eight. Or nine.” Pete grimaced.

“Okay. Be right back.” She rolled the X-ray machine over to take the pictures, with Zeke coming up behind her to study the computer screen over her shoulder. He seemed big and unnerving, the scent of him in her nose and the sound of his soft breathing in her ear. Disgusted with herself, she shook off thinking about how close he was, the hyperawareness of him that seemed to happen every time he was near. She called on her training to study the images and think about her patient and nothing else.

“Definitely a dislocation, with just slight damage to your glenohumeral ligament. That’s the ball and socket between your scapula and humerus—your shoulder bone and the top of your arm. See?” She pointed to the X-ray. “I’m going to do a reduction to pop it back into place again.”

“Will that fix it?” Pete asked.

“It’ll be tender for a while, and you’ll need to wear a sling to protect it and help the ligaments heal. And yes, it’ll fix it but you’ll have to be careful not to injure it again. I’m going to give you a muscle relaxant, and an analgesic for the pain, so the reduction won’t hurt too badly.”

“How about I find those drugs for you?” Zeke asked.

“That would be great. Except they’re still in a jumble in the box. I had them perfectly organized until that crazy earthquake while crossing the Drake Passage tossed them around, along with me. So you’ll have to look for them.”

Zeke’s brown eyes met hers. The twinkle and warmth in them showed he was remembering everything about that night, too, and all of it made her belly feel a little funny as she smiled back.

“There was an earthquake? While we were on the ship?” Pete asked, his eyes wide.

“No, no.” Jordan’s face felt a little warm, realizing she was dangerously close to flirting with Zeke, which she absolutely did not want to do. Especially since she enjoyed it too much. “Just a joke between me and Dr. Edwards.”

“Dr. Flynn seems to be accident-prone like you, Pete. Hopefully, not when she’s reducing your shoulder, though.”

“He’s joking about that, too, Pete.” She frowned at Zeke. Kidding around patients was good to a point, to help them relax, but not if the kidding made them worry that she didn’t know what she was doing.

Thankfully, Pete didn’t look horrified, chuckling instead. Jordan asked him for his personal information and filled out paperwork on the station’s hospital computer. She continued making notes regarding her diagnosis, X-ray results and treatment plan, while Zeke brought the medications and water so Pete could take the pills, and was glad he’d come with her to help.

With the meds now having had enough time to take effect, she stood next to the patient and firmly grasped his arm and shoulder, preparing to do the necessary reduction to put it back in place. “Ready? This is going to hurt some.”

Zeke reached to hold Pete’s hand. “Hang on to me and squeeze. It’ll help you get through it.”

Pete nodded and pressed his lips together, and Jordan could tell he was gripping Zeke’s hand so tightly it had to be uncomfortable. She concentrated on manipulating Pete’s arm to reconnect it into his shoulder socket. After a long moment of maneuvering it around, she heard the satisfying thunk and felt it lock back into place. “There! That wasn’t too bad, was it?” She stepped back to smile at her patient.

He huffed out a long breath. “Not gonna lie—it hurt. But it feels a lot better now.”

“Good. Now I need to get you a sling, so sit still until we get your arm immobilized. I’ll—”

“I grabbed one when I was back in the storage closet,” Zeke interrupted, holding it up. “I’ll put it on him.”

He didn’t even wait for her to respond, efficiently getting Pete’s arm and shoulder set up in the sling. She opened her mouth to comment on the way it should be done, then closed it. Obviously, he knew exactly what to do. Obviously also liked being in charge, even when he wasn’t. But she wasn’t about to complain, because it had definitely been better for Pete, and for her, to have Zeke there with them, helping get the procedure done as efficiently as possible.