Dianne Drake - P.S. You're a Daddy!

“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.”