Читать книгу Risk Factors - Calisa Rhose - Страница 5

Chapter 1

“Glad you’re here, Con. The crew’s extracting the driver from the truck. I have a family trapped in the car, and a shitload of cows blocking our efforts at every turn.” Fire and Rescue Chief Dillan Reed yelled for someone to “get those rubber-neckers moving” and snatched up the radio as it growled on his hip. He issued directions into the device, and whirled back to Connor. “It’ll be a while before the driver’s free. They’re getting the jaws to cut him out. Gotta empty the car before we can move the semi. Hell, I hoped for a smooth R and R when I took the call.”

Connor McKay shifted the weight of his emergency pack to the other shoulder. He trailed after Dillan, toward the grinding noise of rescue equipment, allowing time to take in the full scene. The stench of fuel and cow manure from the overturned truck and trailer assailed his senses. Cattle lowed and milled on one side of the roadway.

He followed Chief Reed around the twisted semi and stock trailer blocking most of the two-lane road. Another helicopter hovered above the multi-injury accident, preparing to land. His flight nurse had latched onto the first patient, and pumped the resuscitator with a steady hand. Every emergency worker preferred a smooth rescue and removal, but that was rarely the case. “What can I do?”

“There’s three occupants still in the car ground units and Flight Five are waiting to transport. We need them out before the truck rolls. Those damn straps securing the cab of the truck slipped once already, so we’re trying to get a crane in for backup. The first responders have everything under control at the moment. Jump in where you’ll be most helpful.”

Dillan snapped curt orders into his walkie-talkie as Connor left to weave around firemen in various stages of procedures. Focused on his destination, he wound his way toward the car in which paramedics operated. An unexpected bump halted his steps, followed by a grunt that drew his attention to where he’d been walking. A woman sat flat on her fanny, legs stretched out on either side of a Husky-looking dog.

An apology tickled his tongue before it promptly took a hike when she rose to full height and stared at him with the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen.

“Hey! Didn’t you see me–the dog…” As her gaze latched onto his, her voice stuttered to silence.

“Are you all right? I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.”

She barely reached his shoulders, but she came across as larger than life when her crystal-blue gaze scanned him as thoroughly as a security wand at the airport. Easy to look at summed up her symmetrical features and smooth complexion. Hair the same yellow-gold shade as Janna’s Barbie dolls’ ruffled in the wind, allowing the sunlight to catch in the deeper copper strands throughout.

Small, pink latex-covered hands clutched a syringe tightly. Who was she? He didn't recognize her from any other scene. Someone he'd likely never see again, therefore, probably forget by the time the day was over.

A flowery scent carried on the breeze amid rank fumes, and Connor glanced around. No flowers in sight other than dandelions. The sweet smell had to be hers. Damn. “Sorry.” His stomach muscles tightened of their own accord, punctuated with a quiver in reaction to her womanly fragrance. Suddenly he had a strange sensation of developing an elephant's memory.

* * * *

Vivian Dane stared at the man in front of her. All negative thoughts fled as she sized him up. Holy Mama, where have you been all my life? A paramedic’s uniform sheltered his body attractively and displayed the last thing she imagined a paramedic to resemble. The man before her was tall, handsome, and ripped, with a startled golden gaze.

The syringes in her hands preoccupied her, as she squeezed her eyes closed and hoped he’d vanish. She worried her lower lip as she peeked. No such luck. The Herculean man still stood surveying her.

“It’s okay. I’m in a bad place here.” She went to her pink medical bag to store the used syringes. Maybe if she ignored him, he’d leave. She could get back to business if he did. It wasn’t her choice to be stuck at the accident rather than at dinner with Patsy. But when she’d happened on the scene, she couldn’t leave with animals in serious need of attention.

Heavy, cushioned steps echoed hers. She had a job to finish and she was sure he did, too.

“Is your dog hurt? Are you?”

She surveyed the accident scene. Twenty-some-odd cows milled in various states of distress, survivors of the accident. Bright pink smears of non-toxic, environmentally safe ink on their necks marked the ones she’d treated with a mild sedative. Sometimes the job took all the smiles from her day. As if to agree, her stomach growled, matching her mood.

“It’s not my dog.” Then it hit her. He thought she’d been involved in the accident. “Oh, no, I’m fine.” Or I was until you walked on me and proceeded to steal my breath with your godlike presence!

She’d seen this man at a distance as he emerged from the helicopter, but hadn’t imagined him so handsome up close. Not that she’d had time to look around much, with the cattle and the dog from the car. She’d lost sight of him when he went with a nurse to meet Chief Reed.

There was a spicy man. Her coincidental arrival on the accident scene under an hour ago had been less than well-received. His “You have no business gawking around like you’re on a Sunday stroll,” comment had made her laugh. Born dedication to help animals held her, and she’d made him an informed man by revealing her occupation. The chief had been thrilled to have her on site once he knew her trade.

But now, here this guy came, tripping over her, staring at her, generally making her nerves a jumbled mess in mere seconds. “I’m helping out.”

“Are you a nurse?”

Did he assume so because she was a woman, but not a victim? Figured. It wasn’t the first time. A thought teased her lips to claim she was a cattle wrangler, but decided against it at the last second. Viv met his gaze, surprised at the lack of expectation in the gold depth. Genuine curiosity greeted her. “I’m a doctor.”

“Doctor’s always good to have on hand.” He focused on something behind her, waved and side-stepped. “I need to get busy. Sorry again for walking on you.”

“No problem. I’m fine. If I can help…”

All cattle were sedated and ready for transport when the truck arrived. It would be nice to go home and wash, since she’d missed dinner. The chaos made Viv doubt her ability to eat if a salad landed in front of her at that moment. He left as she turned to look for someone to take the dog. The commander was several yards away, near the crushed vehicle the canine had crawled from. Thankfully the dog was unharmed, though badly shaken. She headed in the commander’s direction.

She had almost reached the car when her paramedic–when had she labeled him as hers?–walked by with a determined countenance, and then spun and aimed those sexy eyes at her and pointed. “Did you mean what you said?”

“What?”

He grasped one of her hands and gave it a meaningful stare as tingles scurried up her arm at his warm touch. “You’re here to help out. Come with me. My nurse is tied up and I need small hands.”

“But, I’m not–” Before she could argue her offered help had been meant for the animals, he hurried back to the car. Another medic began pouring alcohol solution and scrubbing her hands clean. Rubber gloves were held open for her to preserve sterility, and she was pushed over to a mangled vehicle. The instant the occupants moaned loudly enough to get above the machine noise nearby, her professionalism kicked in. She may not be familiar with human medicine, but she understood pain and suffering.

“I’m here.” She stood at his shoulder beside the small SUV and waited for him to tell her what he needed. Not sure he’d heard her, she leaned close and peered inside the broken window, making sure to keep her hands free of the filth covering the car. “How many are trapped?” Viv lowered her voice to a whisper.

His gaze flashed hotly and held briefly before he returned to the task. “Two adults and one more, of three, kids.”

“Any infant yet? Did anybody get that dog out?” Chief Reed leaned to look inside, pressing her snugly against the paramedic. She wondered at the paramedic’s name.

“Tell Dillan no sign of a baby, and Joel took the dog.”

The warmth of his breath fluffed Viv’s hair lightly and she jerked away, relaying the message as an excuse. She would take time to fill the chief in on her treatment of the animal later. News of a possible missing child disturbed her though, and she leaned to the medic again. “What baby?”

“There’s an empty seat in here, but no sign of an infant. I’m guessing it’s with a sitter. At least I hope so.”

As he worked his voice remained soft, constantly soothing. His honeyed tones revealed how much he cared for the people in the car. Saving lives wasn’t just a job to this man. Viv doubted his awareness of the other emergency workers as he spoke to the victim.

Tiny shivers massaged over her scalp at the gravel in his tone and the intimacy of their position. She leaned from his proximity as much for air, as to hide her shame. They were trying to save lives, and she had some misplaced attraction for a strange man who probably didn’t remember, or care, if she was next to him. Well, except that he needed small hands.

Would he appreciate her hands on him, doing who-knew-what to him? Best to stay in the fresh air and not suck up his woodsy scent. Her head swam from his body pressed close to hers. The dizziness crowding in had nothing to do with her predicament, but everything to do with the man at her side. The man, so close and so virile, caused her tummy to twirl and dance like there was no tomorrow! Who was she kidding? Viv recognized the lie. No matter how the paramedic made her feel, the accident, the moaning people in the crushed car, the dread, overwrote any nice sensations. The excuse worked for her though, shutting the other vague face inside the vehicle from her mind.

Get a grip, Dane. The dog provided an excuse to escape as she said, “I should go check the dog again.”

“Put your fingers on this vein while I hold the other one.”

Other one? She was trapped with her hand suddenly dragged into the car. The paramedic put it where he wanted, but she couldn’t see what she was expected to do. Another medic was leaning through where the windshield used to be and Viv focused on her actions as she worked on the man in the passenger seat. Three other people were squeezed in at various spots to reach the child still in the back seat. Nothing helped clear her head, it seemed.

Heat surrounded her fingers, along with slimy fluid. Blood. Human blood. Oh, God, oh-God-oh-God. She should tell him she didn’t do well with bleeding people, but her hand remained buried inside of someone’s…something. She couldn’t speak around the bile rising in her throat.

Deep down, Viv acknowledged the premature attraction to the paramedic as a defense mechanism. Ever since the wreck that had killed her best friend during high school, Viv couldn’t tolerate human blood. And now the memory she’d buried seemed hell-bent on squeezing through.

Her reaction was purely psychological, but knowing didn’t chase the sudden dizziness or nausea away.

With eyes shut, she pretended to treat a dog, a cat, any type of animal she typically tended. With determination, she forced her training to take over and block the horror. “I feel the bleeding source.”

“Good. Hang on and we’ll lift her out.”

With careful juggling of positions, the car door was pried open. Viv held tight to the severed artery in a woman’s arm. “I’m slipping. I can’t grip tight enough.”

“You’re doing great. Just don’t let go.”

The minutes seemed like hours before one of the ambulance attendants took over, and she stumbled back in relief and tore off the gloves. Bent at the waist, she sucked blessed air in gulps until her head cleared.

“Truck driver’s ready to fly!”

Viv didn’t know who yelled the announcement, or to whom. All she cared about at the moment was getting away before she made an idiot of herself by fainting. She was about to escape while she could stand straight, when a weak cry off to her right caused her heart to stutter. She poised, listening.

A soft mewing led her closer to the hulking truck mass; the smell of sweet diesel assailed her sensitive nostrils. She squatted and duck-walked closer to the steel body.

Viv glanced around, but saw no available body to call for help. She crept closer to the wails, weak and pathetic compared to the ruckus of rescue machinery. The cries seemed to be coming from behind the truck cab’s huge rear tires just feet from the car. There was nothing to do but crawl under the rig. Night was falling and emergency lights flashed eerily around her in the dusk. The groaning shift of steel stalled her heart, but not her determination. She squatted and reached out to the warm pavement and stretched to try to see deeper into the growing shadows, her previous discomfort forgotten.

“Hey.” Someone grabbed her ankle and pulled as Viv struggled to get free. Strong hands held fast until she was sitting in clear view. A fireman stared down at her with a look that said he suspected she’d lost her mind. “Go in and you might not come out. This mess might roll any minute.”

She didn’t know the fireman, but took a chance she wasn’t crazy. “I heard a something. Another dog perhaps.”

“Nah, weren’t but the one.”

“Well, what about a baby? There’s an empty car seat in the car. Are either of the parents conscious enough to speak? You have to check.” Viv challenged the fireman with desperation. The last she’d heard, neither parent was conscious and the two young children were too upset or incoherent. Please, let it be a dog.

“Nothing’s under the truck. Its weight is constantly shifting and squealing. That’s all. I can’t go in without instruction.”

“Then get permission. One of us is going to check. You? Me? Your choice.”

“Damn it, lady–” He swore a few more colorful words, then yanked his radio up to grumble into the mic. After a terse moment he spun, gave a curt headshake, and dove under the truck. He wasn’t her greatest fan.

She could live with that knowledge.

“Doctor… Imagine it’s your kid who’s lost.” Her words didn’t help his opinion of her, but she refused to walk away. You’ll feel stupid when this turns out to be nothing. She’d been there before.

As her thoughts settled, he wriggled backward on his belly. He frog-kicked to help pull his body, his arms busy with a small bundle.

“You found it!” A baby. The idea of what would have happened to the child had she not heard the cries sent cold fear through Viv in a dizzy wave. Dear God, the baby would have been the only casualty. The thought caused her stomach muscles to knot, and bile rose in her throat again.

The fireman’s next words made her forget everything, however.

“And you get her, Doc.”

“I don’t know anything about babies. Wait!”

“Take her to the ambulance.”

The fireman was already out of sight as Viv stared down at the bundle in her arms and then surveyed the area. What ambulance, she wasn’t sure. She didn’t see any since the last one had pulled out with the last family member. Panic motivating her race around the wreck, she spotted the paramedic. He was hurrying toward the helicopter he’d arrived in and she tightened her grip on the baby, hoping to catch sexy eyes before he took flight.

“Wait!” No one could hear her over the sound of the rotors and blades. The roar of helicopter motors revving was deafening. Viv paused to look for the medic and attempted to cover the infant’s ears to protect her fragile eardrums. Fighting panic, she ran headlong into the wind tunnel caused by the propellers, and hopefully to a qualified someone who would take her charge.

Tears wet and dried on her cheeks, but she finally pushed to the open craft door. The paramedic glanced up, down, and then back up in the span of a blink and Viv held the baby out. With a nod, he stepped over and accepted the baby. Viv almost sank to the ground with immense relief. She backed away so the helicopter could take its patients to the hospital. The medic sat near the door, his face one big question mark before the door slid closed, blocking him from sight.

* * * *

“Daddy, Skittles didn’t eat her cereal and her water is still full. I think she’s sick. Maybe it’s a tummy bug.”

Less than four hours’ sleep, in the past twenty-four hours on shift, left Connor drained. Barely seven in the evening after the usual Sunday dinner at his parents, and exhaustion dampened the desire to mess with a temperamental animal.

“Maybe she’s not in the mood tonight.” The you’ve-got-to-be-kidding squint Janna nailed him with confirmed she thought otherwise and he quickly amended his assumption. “We’ll keep an eye on her and see how she’s doing tomorrow, honey. Daddy’s very tired, and the veterinarian offices are closed today.” Too tired to stay awake, much less risk other lives by driving an hour to an animal urgent care center in Joplin, he decided Skittles could wait.

“Did you have a bad day?”

He slid a sleepy gaze from his reclined position in the comfy old La-Z-Boy to Janna and smiled. “Never too bad to enjoy my little princess.” Bad day? Like none in a while. A drowning had occupied his evening, a train wreck for lunch–hold the mayo, please–and an idiot who didn’t know not to drink and drive. Thankfully, only one fatality had marred the day. Five minutes out from Grand Mercy Medical Center in Joplin, the drowning victim had crashed. No matter how many times he’d seen death, Connor couldn’t get past the self-blame. The car wreck tied up the end of his shift.

He’d said it a million times, if he’d said it once: drinking and driving didn’t mix. Today had been long, but not horrible.

Well, not horrible work-wise for him. On Tuesday he’d see his superior about Nurse Henley, though. She had no business in a helicopter. Ten feet off the ground and she’d tossed her cookies and passed out from claustrophobia, or fear of heights. Thirty minutes and a replacement later, they finally got the EC-130 off the ground. On second thought, he probably wouldn’t need to tell anybody the poor woman couldn’t fly. It would be all over the hospital by now.

“Daddy?” Janna’s sweet face loomed over him with a worried expression wrinkling her brow.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” He hated seeing her so worried about him. Keep it light for the girl, Con. Never mix work with her. Never mix anything harmful with Janna.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Why, Jelly Bean?”

“Because your face got all scrunched up like when you eat Gramma’s sweet ’tater mush.”

“Did it? I must’ve been thinking about her sweet ’tater dish. I hope she doesn’t make it next Sunday when we go to lunch.” The taste of his mother’s gooey casserole turned his stomach, but he’d rather die than hurt her feelings.

After the way Joy and Levi McKay had taken him in, a beat down twelve-year-old, and put up with his orneriness–and then adopted him to prove he wasn’t any trouble–he vowed never to be a spot of pain for them again. But, the orange soupy crud…Mama had won multiple ribbons at the county fair over the years for the stuff. Darned if he knew how. Possibly the judges gauged by the rich color, instead of taste?

“Well, Skittles won’t eat. I wonder if Gramma fed her sweet ’tater mush?” Janna spoke in a mature, matter-of-fact tone and Connor squelched the urge to laugh.

So much for his daughter being worried about him. Connor sat up and leaned around the chair to view the furry critter. Sure enough, the young skunk lay prone and unmoving on the floor. If he didn’t know better, he’d suspect his mother of sneaking the poor creature a helping of mush. At least, her actions mirrored how he wanted to act after eating it. No, it wasn’t possible. His mother hadn’t visited lately. Regardless, Janna was right. Skittles didn’t look well.

“Okay, first thing in the morning we’ll drive to Joplin.” He got up to go to the animal and tested her belly. Tense, quivering. “For tonight I’ll give her some Benadryl to help her rest.”

“But, that’s too far, Daddy! We should take her to Doctor Dane. Grampa still takes Stimpy and Benny.”

“Doctor Dane, huh?” Janna was right about his parents’ vet. He also knew the old veterinarian had recently retired and turned his practice over to someone else.

According to Elsbeth Crenshaw at the post office, the new doctor was an incompetent who didn’t know a thermometer from a lightning rod. Though Connor doubted the analysis was fully accurate, he didn’t want just anyone treating Janna’s pets. He wouldn’t risk her being hurt if the new doctor’s knowledge excluded non-domestic pets.

Janna nodded. “In town. The doctor is still there.”

“Well, we can go see, but remember Dr. Dane moved to Arizona a while back. Another doctor took over, but Skittles may need someone with more experience in her kind of ‘people.’”

People, as Janna called all her pets. Connor had to draw a thick line for her to know when enough was too much. No rodents at the dinner table. That included Hermie the hamster, when Janna had been feeling generous with her green beans. How ’bout breakfas’? No animals to breakfast…or lunch. “I think you need to put Skittles to bed and then join her…rather, get in yours. When we finish breakfast we’ll take her to a doctor in the morning.” Somewhere.

* * * *

Viv loved the coolness of silk sliding over her skin. Smooth, luxurious. With a tug over her chest, the peach material fell into place and she deemed herself ready for bed. Snuggled down under the lightweight blanket, she reached to turn off the bedside lamp when the phone rang. Her hand automatically switched angles and she snatched up the receiver and placed it against her ear.

“Vivian?”

Who else would answer her phone at eleven-thirty at night? “Hello, Dad.” Had he forgotten the time difference between America and Africa again?

“I know it’s late, but I haven’t had a chance to get to a signal until now.” Meaning he’d been out in the bush where phones didn’t work.

He also rarely called. Apprehension rose in her chest and she struggled to keep the anxiety from her voice. “Are you and Mom all right?”

“Yes, yes, we’re good. We’ll be coming to visit in December. Max wrote and told me he gave you his clinic.” Gerald Dane was always one to get right to the point. The way he specified Uncle Max gifting the clinic without making her pay suggested he was getting close.

She waited.

“I hope you know what you’re getting into. Wild animal reserve? May I ask what in heaven’s name made you agree to something so outrageous?”

There it was. His real reason for calling his only child. He was worried Viv might kill one of the wild beasts with her obvious incompetence.

“He said you renewed the availability contract for local emergencies and annuals.”

“That’s right, Dad.”

The written agreement to remain available for their needs 24-7, on a bi-annual retainer, was a stipulation written into their contract. If one could seriously consider the piece of paper Uncle Max had jotted notes on a contract. His–hers–was the only clinic so close to the reserve. The facility had used Uncle Max forever and she’d seen no reason to not renew. Of course, since she’d met Hammer-the-hawk last week, Viv almost changed her mind.

Her dad’s voice brought her back to the conversation. “Are you sure you can handle wild species? Keep in mind, you’re a domestic pet doctor. Wild animals take a certain type of veterinarian to know their ailments, often very different than a house pet.”

“How could I forget? I may have treated domesticated animals primarily in Denver, but I’m also capable of treating a wolf or a hawk.” Or any other animal found in the US. God forbid if, just once, either of her wayward parents should actually call her by her rightful title, instead of “pet doctor.” It hurt when they talked as though she only played at being a veterinarian.

She closed her eyes and counted to ten while her father expounded on her obvious incompetence for treating their preferred range of species, the wild ones. “Dad, have you forgotten how much you and Mom spent for me to become a veterinarian? I did learn while at school, you know. I actually know the difference between a wolf and a lamb these days.”

“Don’t get smart, Vivian. You know I only want what’s best.” Paper rustled in her ear. The condescension of his voice dripped from the phone over the many miles.

She sat on the edge of her bed, forcing calming breaths. “Best for whom? Me? The animals you plainly don’t think I have the sense to treat? Or do you want what’s best for you and Mom? If you’re afraid I’ll shame you by association, well, you don’t need to worry. I’ve actually been thinking of legally changing my name to Vivian Pet-doctor-not-to-be-confused-with-renowned-wild-animal-veterinarians-Gerald-and-Blanca Dane.”

And there it went. Her cool flapped its heated wings, carrying her barely-restrained, whimsical, fake pleasantry right out the window. Pain scraped over her, harsh and raw.

What else was new? Her parents were more concerned about their name being smutted, than their own daughter. Thoughts flitted through her head until she suddenly realized her dad was too quiet. “Dad?”

“You seem to have quite a chip on your shoulder, Vivian. I hope you get it taken care of before we arrive. Your mother said to tell you hello. I need to go now. This costs so much.” His abruptness told her the conversation had ended. No different than most of their conversations. Viv was the unreasonable child her father would always see, and not the responsible adult he’d raised. Admittedly, she hadn’t helped his image with her smart tongue.

“Right. Tell Mom hello then.” Nothing was left unsaid, before the connection severed and Viv sat holding the cold instrument. She hung up as the first tears fell.