Angela Hunt - A Time To Mend

A familiar voice jangled across his nerves, nudging him out of his musings. Jonah dropped his magazine and stood. Jacquelyn Wilkes and a man were coming from the picnic area; the man staggered under the weight of a blanket-wrapped body in his arms. From the look of the sagging form in the blanket, the patient was a heavy adult, possibly a drowning victim….

Without hesitating, Jonah unclipped his cell phone and dialed 911. “We need an ambulance sent to the picnic area at Lake Silver, stat,” he told the dispatcher, then he disconnected and sprinted to intersect Jacquelyn’s path.

“Nurse Wilkes!” he called, falling into step beside her. “What’s the problem?”

For the first time he could recall, she looked at him with honest appreciation in her eyes. “Dr. Martin, thank goodness! I don’t know what the problem is.” Her eyes were wide with fear as she continued jogging toward the parking lot. “Heatstroke, I think, or maybe snakebite.”

Jonah nodded. “Pulse? Breath sounds?”

“Pulse is strong, but slowing,” Jacquelyn answered, huffing. “Breath sounds are erratic.”

“Puncture wounds?”

“None that I could see. But I didn’t look closely, there wasn’t time. His breathing was so erratic—”

The wail of sirens cut through the summer afternoon as an ambulance screeched to a halt in the parking lot.

The thimble-shaped man carrying the victim stopped abruptly and sent Jonah a crooked smile. “You called an ambulance?”

“Of course.” Jonah frowned, unable to understand the man’s expression, but there was no time to consider the quirks of Jacquelyn Wilkes’s friends. The emergency medical technicians were spilling out of the vehicle, and a curious crowd had begun to gather.

“Possible heatstroke or snakebite,” Jonah called, hurrying forward. He pulled the back doors of the truck open himself. “I’m a doctor, and I’d be happy to ride with the patient to the E.R.”

“Is this the victim?” one of the rescuers asked, pointing down the path.

Jonah turned and followed the man’s gaze. Jacquelyn and her friend were approaching, the blanket-wrapped body still in the man’s arms. “Yes,” Jonah answered, reaching for the stretcher. “Let me give you a hand.”

“Jacquelyn,” the burly man panted, halting with his burden. His flush deepened to crimson before the eyes of the curious crowd. “You’ve got to tell them.”

Jacquelyn lifted the blanket. “Tell them what?”

Jonah’s nerves tensed as the blanket fell away. The face resting on the man’s shoulder was black and furry; a velvet ear trailed over his arm. Long, lanky limbs pointed toward the sky, and a limp tail drooped out the side of the blanket. Jacquelyn Wilkes’s boyfriend was cradling the most massive dog Jonah had ever seen.

Someone in the crowd of onlookers snickered and one of the paramedics turned away to hide a smile. The other EMT’s face purpled in sudden anger. “What’s this?” He turned to Jonah. “You called us out here to tend to a mutt?”

Jonah held up his hand, but couldn’t think of a single word to offer in explanation. The red-faced man lowered the dog to the ground, then stood back, his arms folded tight across his chest. From the expression on his sweaty face, Jonah knew the man was wishing he could melt into the growing crowd and disappear.

At that moment Jonah could have walked happily into the crowd himself and wished the day away. But his traitorous eyes moved to the place where she stood, clenching and unclenching her hands, copper curls clinging damply to her forehead and the nape of her neck, her eyes welling like a stormy sea.

A jolt of sudden and unexpected desire forced him to look away. Jacquelyn Wilkes was a beautiful and desirable woman, reason enough for him to avoid her. She thoroughly disliked him, of that he was certain. Her dislike he could handle, he could even welcome it. He could work with her frigidity, aversion, even disgust…

But she’d honestly hate him if he didn’t help her now. One look in her eyes had convinced him that the dog, mutt or not, was precious to her. And if she hated Jonah, she’d want to destroy him. It’d be only a few months before he was adding yet another hospital to his résumé.

“Please, Doctor. Will you help him?” If Jonah had any doubts, they vanished when Jacquelyn spoke in the fragile and shaking voice he’d heard a thousand times from his patients.

Ignoring the flustered paramedics, he knelt to examine the animal.

“What happened?” he asked, lifting one of the dog’s eyelids. The jowls at the sides of the animal’s mouth had swollen, and the dog seemed to have difficulty drawing breath. Jonah abruptly brought his hand through the dog’s line of vision and noted that the animal’s blink reflex had slowed to almost nothing.

“I can’t see any puncture wounds,” Jacquelyn said, her voice choked with urgency and rising panic.

Jonah gently lifted the swollen jowls and peered into the dog’s mouth. A layer of white foam covered the teeth and gums, but after wiping the substance away he observed tiny red blisters flaring angrily along the pink flesh.

“I’d say the dog got into a nest,” he said, gently lowering the animal’s head. “Wasps or bees. This is probably an allergic reaction.”

“Allergies?” Jacquelyn looked at him with blank eyes. “But…that can be fatal! If his esophagus closes up—”

Jonah looked up at the red-faced ambulance driver. “Take us to the E.R.,” he said, pulling his wallet and ID from the pocket of his shorts. “I’m Dr. Jonah Martin. I’ll be responsible.”

“No way.” The driver planted his feet and crossed his arms, well aware that at least a hundred curious potential letter writers had gathered to watch the spectacle. “I am not running a canine to the hospital. Call a vet.”

“Look, you have to return to the hospital anyway,” Jonah pointed out. “Why not take us along for the ride? I’ll take full responsibility.”

“I am not—” the man paused for emphasis “—pulling up into my parking lot before my boss with a canine on my gurney. No way.”

“If you don’t take this dog somewhere,” Jonah lowered his voice, “it may die. Do you want that on your conscience?”

He had spoken quietly, but the crowd heard. “Give the dog a break, man!” someone called.

“Have a heart!”

“Ain’t you got a dog of your own?”

The driver fidgeted uncomfortably. “It still isn’t right. I’ll be in major trouble if I take a canine anywhere near the E.R.”

“You can take him to my office.” Jonah bent to help Jacquelyn lift the dog onto the gurney. “I’ll tend him there. And I’ll cover the bill for this run.”

Bowing to Jonah’s logic and public pressure, the driver threw his hands up and went to the front of the vehicle. The second paramedic helped Jacquelyn and Jonah load the gurney into the truck, then he waved to the crowd and went to the front of the ambulance. Obviously neither paramedic was going to risk his job by taking care of a sick animal.

Jonah turned to Jacquelyn. “I’ll have to ride along to let them in the building,” he said, watching the play of emotions on her lovely face. He’d never seen such a depth of caring in her eyes—not even with her most troubled patients. “I suppose you’ll want to follow later with your friend.”

“I won’t leave Bailey,” Jacquelyn said, hopping up into the ambulance beside the gurney.

“I’ll follow in the car after I gather our things,” the boyfriend called, backing away from the ambulance. Before Jonah could climb in and pull the double doors closed, he had disappeared.

But he’d said our things.

As the ambulance pulled out, Jacquelyn leaned forward and crooned to the animal on the stretcher. “It’s okay, baby dog. Mama’s right here.” Surprisingly, the dog whimpered and struggled to nuzzle her hand. Something in the tender exchange caught at Jonah’s heart.