Читать книгу When The Right One Comes Along - Kate James - Страница 14
ОглавлениеCAL’S EYES FLEW open when he felt himself rising, slowly but steadily.
Holding the hoisting rope with his right hand, he used his left to keep himself from careening into protruding obstructions as he ascended through the elevator shaft. Soon he could see the night sky above and he was clearing the top of the shaft.
Adam was reaching for him. “Sorry, man. The aftershock caused a piece of siding to get stuck in the flywheel. I had to lower you manually and clear it before I could hoist you...” His rapid-fire speech halted as he steadied the harness and helped Cal balance on the roof. “What happened to your leg?”
“An I-beam.” Cal looked around, saw Scout running toward him, unharmed. With a hand signal, he got him to drop down and hold his position. The last thing he needed right now was an enthusiastic greeting from his dog. He looked at his thigh, too, as he carefully put most of his weight on his left leg. “I was able to get out of its way, or mostly. Otherwise, I’d be even more of a mess.” Taking in the rusty marks on his blood-soaked jeans, he added, “It must’ve been a piece of rebar sticking out that sliced through me. How bad was the aftershock?”
“It could’ve been a lot worse, but it might not be the last. They’ve confirmed that the quake was a 7.6. No wonder we’ve had so much damage. Well, let’s get you down and checked out.” Adam threw his arm around Cal, and Scout followed at Cal’s side.
“We’re in for it,” he said to Cal as he assisted him into the bucket of the articulated lift. “They know what we did. When the aftershock hit, I had to report in. This—” he pointed to Cal’s thigh “—isn’t going to help us. I don’t think you’ll be able to play the sympathy card. Williams is really pissed.”
“Yeah, I bet.”
The boom lowered Cal and Scout to street level. With no other way to get there, Adam helped Cal hobble over to the triage area on one leg. Excruciating pain shot through him each time his right leg moved, let alone if his foot inadvertently touched the ground. They advanced slowly, in stark contrast to other people still rushing around.
“Do you know how the little girl, Kayla, is?” Cal asked, head down, watching for trip hazards on the pavement as they neared the medical area.
“You can find out for yourself,” he responded. “She’s with a doctor right now.”
Cal looked up and saw Kayla sitting on a makeshift examination table. The little girl held hands with an older woman who was crouched down in front of her and was obviously consoling her. Another woman in scrubs was examining her.
Kayla’s clothes were filthy; her hair was matted and dirty and tucked behind her ears. But there was no denying whose daughter she was. In the overhead lights, he could see she was a miniature version of her very beautiful mother.
Cal wondered if they’d had a chance to contact her father yet. He hoped that knowing his daughter had survived would alleviate some of the grief the man would feel when he learned about the death of his wife. And Kayla had lost her mother. It occurred to Cal again that if he’d been the one to die, his little girl, Haley, wouldn’t even know it.
As they approached the doctor, he really looked at her for the first time. He felt an immediate and visceral tightening in his gut. It astonished him, especially under the circumstances. The devastation around them, his severe pain and his view of relationships—yet there it was, no denying it.
She wasn’t classically beautiful. Not like Kayla’s mother. She was tall and lithe. On the slim side. Her face was a little longish, dominated by huge wide-set eyes; he couldn’t discern the color. Her nose was average, her mouth perhaps a bit too wide. But there was something about her that just grabbed him and wouldn’t let go. Then there was the hair. Pulled back in a ponytail, untidy and sweaty as it was, he could tell it was a thick, heavy, straw-colored mass.
The thoughts running through his mind made him suspect he’d hit his head without being aware of it. After Anna, he wasn’t interested in women. His reaction to the doctor annoyed him, and it showed in his demeanor.
“How is she?” Cal asked irritably and without preamble as they reached the triage area. Silver-gray eyes shot up, the doctor’s gaze meeting his.
* * *
JESSICA NARROWED HER eyes as she glared at the man standing before her, shirtless and leaning heavily on the shoulder of a firefighter. His simple question sounded both gruff and belligerent. Her gaze dropped to the well-muscled chest and arms, before sliding lower and seeing the makeshift tourniquet, understanding why he wasn’t wearing a shirt. “Marcia,” she called, keeping her eyes on the man but a steadying hand on the girl. “Can you please get Mr....?” She looked at the man inquiringly.
“Palmer. I’m a cop. Or just Calen. Or Cal.”
“Marcia, please help Officer Palmer sit down and get the weight off that leg and check his vitals until I can see him.”
“I asked how Kayla was,” he repeated, unmoving.
At the sound of her name, the little girl looked up and her crying eased. Her eyes brightened for the first time since Jessica had seen her. “Cal,” she squealed, twisting sideways and raising her skinny arms up for him. He obliged her with a hug. “You’re hurt,” she exclaimed.
“It’s nothing. I’ll be fine,” he said.
“Where’s Mommy?” Kayla asked, trying to see around the cop.
“Let’s worry about that later, okay?” he said evasively. “How’re you?”
Jess was shocked by the complete transformation in his tone and deportment, but sadly she could see the answer to Kayla’s question in his eyes.
“Dr. Hansen says I’ll be fine.” She reached back for Jessica’s hand. Jess took it in her own and gave it a squeeze. For a moment, they formed a unit—linked through the child. For some reason, that realization made Jessica uncomfortable. She slid her hand out of Kayla’s and placed it on the little girl’s knee to get her attention.
“Yes, you’ll be fine, Kayla. But just to make sure, I want you to go to the hospital. Get checked out. Okay?” She’d triaged Kayla as “delayed.” Her injuries were likely relatively mild, concussion being the most serious concern, but she needed to be examined more thoroughly for possible internal injuries.
“Um. ’Kay. Will my mommy be there?”
Jessica met Cal’s eyes again over the top of Kayla’s head. The man was an enigma. His eyes were filled with anguish, and Jessica surmised that she’d been right—he knew more about Kayla’s mother than he’d said. She was worried about how the girl would handle the bad news and wanted to postpone it, at least until she had family with her. “We’ll see,” she murmured, and rethought her course of action. “But Mrs. Rodrigues,” she said, turning to Marcia, “will go with you. How about that?”
“Okay.” Kayla sounded unsure. “Can Cal come with me, too?”
“Unfortunately not.” When Kayla’s lower lip protruded, Jessica rushed on. “I need to examine him, too.” Jessica looked at Calen’s injured leg and Kayla’s gaze followed. She saw the distress on the little girl’s face and drew Kayla’s attention back to her. “But you might see Officer Palmer there. And Marcia—Mrs. Rodrigues—will be with you.”
“But...” Marcia began, and Jessica turned imploring eyes on her.
“I know what you’re going to say.” Jessica spoke in a hushed whisper. “We’re not finished here yet. Well, we nearly are.” She touched Marcia’s arm. “And this little girl needs you.” She dropped her voice even further. “If the cop’s face is any indication, she just lost her mother.”
Jess could see Marcia’s internal struggle. It showed in every line of her face, in the depth of her eyes. She understood that Marcia probably feared she was getting too involved with this child. But how could she not? Kayla’s mother had almost certainly died in the earthquake.
“Please,” she entreated.
“Fine.”
Kayla was still grasping Jessica’s hand and didn’t seem to want to let go. Jess gave her hand a tug. “You’re going to the hospital now, and Mrs. Rodrigues will go with you. The doctors there will do some tests, but Mrs. Rodrigues will stay with you the whole time.” She looked at Marcia, who nodded resignedly.
“And my mommy?”
“Let’s get you taken care of first, okay?”
“Will you be there? Will you do the tests at the hospital?”
“No, I won’t, but if you’re still there when I get back, I’ll come see you.” Jessica could have bitten off her tongue the minute the words were out of her mouth, and she could see the disapproval on Marcia’s face. She would not see Kayla at the hospital. She was a trauma surgeon. She’d chosen that field so she could treat patients and then be done. No attachment. No follow-up.
Kayla nodded. She hugged Cal again, and let Marcia lead her away.
Jessica turned to her next and apparently last patient, the man leaning heavily on the firefighter who’d helped him to the triage area. At first she’d wondered if he might have been Kayla’s father, but she’d quickly dismissed that thought. If he was, he would’ve said so. He was injured, but she sensed that wasn’t all that contributed to his surliness. A hard day all around, she supposed.
She took in his tall, muscular frame, his brown hair, ocean-green eyes, the jeans and absence of a shirt, the strong face with the slightly crooked nose, the frowning mouth. She noticed the dog by his side for the first time. She loved dogs and knew them well, having grown up with them. This one was a beauty. A near-black shepherd, although his coat was covered in dust. From the size of him, probably a king shepherd, with large paws and alert, intelligent, appraising eyes. He had to be a police dog.
“You’re next.” Jessica gestured to the cop to sit on her exam table.
The firefighter helped Cal shuffle over. “I guess I’ll be seeing you later over that...matter that’ll need to be addressed,” he said.
Jessica saw the cop’s expression soften again as he patted the firefighter on the back. “Don’t worry about it, Adam. I’ll take care of it.” He held out his hand. “Thanks,” he said as they shook hands.
The moment the cop turned his attention back to her, Jessica felt uncharacteristically self-conscious in her baggy scrubs. The anger was back in his eyes, but Jessica had no idea why she seemed to elicit hostility from him. It had to be her, though, since there’d been no sign of it when he’d interacted with the girl or the firefighter.
Her only concern with the cop, she reminded herself, was dealing with his leg wound and getting him to the hospital. She snapped on a new pair of thin blue gloves. “How did this happen?” she asked briskly. If he could have an attitude, so could she.
“As I said, I’m a cop.” He pointed to the dog. “Scout and I were part of the rescue team.”
Jessica checked Cal’s vitals, as Marcia hadn’t had a chance to do it, and focused on his injury. The wound looked bad. He had every right to be angry, she decided. Tired, too. She wasn’t feeling much friendlier herself. She’d been at it for hours now, all through the night, and the number of injured was significant. That could excuse his surliness, but it didn’t explain why it seemed to be directed at her.
“You rescued Kayla?”
He nodded.
Jessica turned to the tray behind her for a pair of scissors. “Kayla’s mother died in the quake, didn’t she?” She turned back in time and knew the answer before he vocalized it. She saw the sorrow flash across his face, cloud his eyes. Jessica met a lot of cops as a trauma unit doctor and while taking shifts in the emergency room. She knew it was a hard job and they saw unimaginable horrors, and yet she worried most about the ones who seemed to have become hardened against it. This one didn’t look like a rookie, but he wasn’t calloused, either.
“And the father?” she asked as she removed the makeshift tourniquet around his thigh and began to cut away the soiled denim. She tried to sound casual, all the while berating herself. Here she was, still worried about Kayla, and she knew too well what that could lead to.
Cal shrugged. “No idea.”
“Okay.” Jessica tried to force Kayla out of her mind. The little girl would probably be gone by the time she got to the hospital and she’d never see her again. That was the way she wanted it. “How did this happen?” She repeated her earlier question as she continued to cut away the jeans, noting the dirt and rust stains on the denim. “Exactly?”
Cal gave her a short account.
Jessica paused, glanced at the beautiful German shepherd sitting quietly next to the table, completely focused, not missing a thing. She found herself reassessing her opinion of the cop. “You went back into the building following the aftershock to get your dog?”
Cal leaned over to drop a hand possessively on Scout’s head. “I needed to ascertain Kayla’s mother’s condition, too, but yeah. Scout’s my partner. I couldn’t leave him. By the way, do you have any water I can give him?”
“Sure.” Jess considered the tough exterior of the cop as she poured some water into a plastic container. He came across as harsh and surly, but he clearly cared about kids and dogs.
She’d worked with enough cops to know that police dogs were considered a tool by the department, and she’d never understood how their handlers could spend so much time with their dogs and think of them that way. Obviously this cop didn’t. There had to be a soft center under that hard shell.
She expected she’d have done the same thing. Gone after the dog, if he was hers. But then again, she tended to lead with her heart. That had been her downfall as a pediatric surgeon, and likely would’ve made her a lousy cop, too.
With the full shift she’d put in at the hospital before she was called out to the field, she was worn out. It was hardly surprising that her mind kept wandering; still, she needed to focus.
She had to clean the wound and apply a temporary dressing for pressure before she sent the cop off to the hospital. He’d probably gotten dirt and rust deep in the wound, and that concerned her. She’d clean it the best she could, but he’d have to be looked at. They were out of local anesthetic in the field because they’d treated so many people. As nasty as the wound was, she had to clean it. She knew it would hurt, but she couldn’t wait until fresh supplies arrived.
“How’d you break your nose?” she asked, trying to distract him as she peeled back more of the denim that was stuck to his leg.
“It happened when I was a kid,” he responded tersely.
“How?” she persisted.
“I was teaching my brother karate.”
“Yeah?” She wanted to keep him talking.
“I was showing him how to split a board. Frankly, he sucked at it. Drew was always a geek.” She detected the smile in his voice, but the affection, too. “I was holding the board for him when our mother called us for lunch.” He chuckled. “I lowered my arms. Drew took his shot. For once his aim was right on, and he connected with my nose, where the board would have been.”
When she glanced up at him, he was grinning. There wasn’t any resentment, which surprised her. The hard, angular lines of his face were transformed by the appealing, almost boyish smile. She was tempted to shake her head. She must really be exhausted if she was thinking how attractive one of her patients was. “You’re kidding?”
“No. It’s true.”
Jess raised an eyebrow, but went back to her task. “This is going to hurt,” she cautioned. “There’s not much I can do about it. We’re out of anesthetic.” She looked up again. His smile had faded, and he nodded. He knew what was coming and seemed ready for it.
Even so, as soon as she started to clean the wound with the iodine-based cleanser, he threw his head back and groaned loudly.
At Cal’s obvious agony, the big dog sprang up and let out a throaty, menacing growl directed at her. It all happened so fast. Cal was still absorbed by the pain and hadn’t noticed, but Jess was well aware that most police dogs were trained to protect their handlers. That was obviously what the shepherd was intent on doing. If she showed fear or appeared to be a threat, she suspected the dog would attack her. She only had an instant to consider. She took a step toward the dog, drawing her shoulders back. The dog bristled, growled and stood his ground but didn’t advance.
Calm, assertive, she reminded herself. “Sit,” she ordered in a no-nonsense voice, using her hand to reinforce the command. The dog glanced over at Cal, who was still preoccupied with his pain. The dog cocked his head and hesitated, but Jessica didn’t back down. He made an oddly human huffing sound. Still alert, still on guard, he nonetheless obeyed her command and plopped down. His eyes remained watchful and trained on Jess.
Jessica exhaled. The dog must not have perceived her as an imminent threat to the cop, or he wouldn’t have listened to her. Still, she was relieved that she hadn’t been attacked by him in the process. He was a beautiful dog, but large and she had no doubt those shiny white teeth could mean business if he was provoked.
Turning her attention back to Cal, she saw astonishment on his face, and something else. Could it be respect from the cantankerous cop?
He eyed his dog. The dog angled his head and waited. “Down,” he ordered, then looked back at Jessica. “I can’t believe he responded to you. How did you do that?”
She couldn’t resist the small smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. “He’s your dog. You tell me.”
The dog was lying down with his head between his outstretched paws, shifting his gaze back and forth between the two of them. “Obviously he didn’t think you intended to hurt me,” he murmured.
“I’d appreciate it if you could assure him of that. I’m going to continue to clean your wound, and I wouldn’t want him to get the wrong idea.”
“Scout, stay. Friend,” he added.
“Now can we get back to this, if... Scout, is it?”
He nodded.
“If Scout doesn’t object?”
Jessica worked quickly and efficiently to clean the wound and apply a temporary dressing. She tried not to be distracted by the large dog. She could see from her peripheral vision that he was watching her every move. She’d shown him who was alpha, but he was the cop’s dog, and based on his earlier reaction, she supposed he’d protect his handler if he thought she was hurting him. She was glad the cop was taking her ministrations stoically, and was thankful he handled the pain as well as could be expected. She didn’t want to test her mettle against his dog again. She knew he must have been in excruciating pain while she cleaned the wound, but after the initial outcry, the only sounds he made were deep hissing breaths during the worst of it. She didn’t take the time to look up at him, but she could see his white-knuckled grip on the edge of the table.
“We’re done here,” Jessica said as she applied a bandage to Cal’s leg, tossed the blood-stained cloths into the waste receptacle and took off her gloves.
“Great. Thanks,” Cal said through gritted teeth as he slid off the table to balance on his left leg.
Jessica placed her palm lightly on his chest. “Not so fast.” She shouldn’t have been surprised at how firm his chest felt under her fingers. She was tempted to keep her hand there, but pulled it back quickly.
“Why?” Cal asked, testing to see if he could put weight on his right leg, only to wince and nearly collapse.
Jessica gave him a humorless smile. “Well, that, for one. I doubt you’ll be able to put weight on that leg for the foreseeable future. It’s not just a surface wound. It’s a fairly deep soft-tissue injury. I wouldn’t rule out that you might have chipped some bone, too. Worst-case scenario, you might have fractured your femur. In any case, you’ll need crutches, and you’ll have to stay off the leg for at least a couple of weeks.”
Cal threw her an annoyed look but she continued. “Secondly, you need to go to the hospital. Not just for an X-ray to determine if there is a fracture. The rebar that gouged you was dirty and rusty. I cleaned your wound as well as I could here, but it’ll have to be cleaned more thoroughly and there’s no telling whether some of the rust and dirt might have gotten into your bloodstream. That would mean you’ll—”
“Yeah. I know. Have to watch for sepsis.”
Jessica nodded. “Correct. So, you’ll be making a trip to the hospital.”
She could feel him watching her as she made notations on the chart.
“I don’t have time to go to the hospital.”
She raised her eyes and gave him her best authoritative look. “Before you argue that point, tell me when you had your last tetanus shot?”
“Cops have to get regular shots. You should know that.”
“I do, but that doesn’t answer my question.” Since there was no reply, Jessica glanced up again.
“I don’t know. A few years back.”
Having completed the charting, she put down the clipboard. “Would a few be more or less than five years?”
Cal threw his hands skyward in annoyance. Scout immediately sat up, ears pricked. Cal sent him a hand signal and calmed himself. “I don’t have time for this. I have work to do.”
“Unless you want serious complications, you will make the time.” Cal’s brows drew together in a menacing V. Before he could say anything, she raised a hand. “I wouldn’t send you to the hospital if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. We’re going to be swamped, and I want to make sure we provide care to those who need it most. You understand the triage process, correct?”
The V deepened, but he nodded.
“I triaged you as ‘urgent.’ You know that means you need medical attention at Ocean Crest, for treatment, stiches and—if you can’t be more specific about when you had your last one—a tetanus shot, as well. Finally, I want X-rays. As deep as that wound is and based on how it occurred, as I said I can’t discount a possible hairline fracture of your femur.”
“Okay. I get it.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys.
“You can’t be serious!”
“What?”
“You’re planning to drive yourself to the hospital?” She was incredulous.
“Yeah,” he responded, hesitancy in his voice. “I can drive.” He sounded a bit like a petulant child.
“Right. Try again to put some weight on that leg. Your right leg, I might add.”
Cal’s brows remained furrowed and he kept his eyes on hers—the green even brighter now than when she’d first locked eyes with him. She knew the instant he put some weight on the right leg, because he squeezed his eyes closed and his mouth formed a hard, straight line.
She reached out to steady him as he wobbled. “You were saying?” A hint of humor crept into her voice. She couldn’t help being a little smug. She was tired, cranky—and she was only human. “I know you’re a tough guy, but even you have your limits. Here’s an ambulance now. They’ll take you.” She signaled to the paramedic.
“Wait. What about Scout? They won’t let me take him in the ambulance, will they?”
Jessica frowned. She hadn’t thought of that. “No. That’s not possible.”
“I can’t leave him in my vehicle. It’s going to heat up again. It’s got a temperature-activated cooling system, but during the time I’ll be in the hospital, the truck will likely run out of gas and power.” He reached for the holster on his belt and found it empty. He looked around, apparently searching for someone. Police department personnel and other first responders at the site were still rushing around, all of them occupied in dealing with the aftermath of the earthquake.
He looked back at Jessica. “I need help.”
“You just had it. The hospital needs to take over now.”
“No. That’s not what I mean. Not medical aid. I need your help with Scout.”
She bent down, let Scout sniff her hand. “May I?” she asked. When Cal nodded, she rubbed his head. “In what way?”
“Well, I can’t take him to the hospital with me. I can’t leave him in my truck here in this heat. I lost my radio in the building and, as you can see, everyone from the department is busy.” He made a sweeping motion toward where the frenetic activity still continued. “I can’t impose on them.”
Jessica continued to stroke Scout but looked up at Cal. “What about someone else? A volunteer, maybe? Someone who lives close by? A friend?” She broke eye contact and turned her attention back to Scout. “Aren’t you a handsome boy,” she murmured. “So smart and handsome.”
“It won’t work,” he said, replying to her question. “Police dogs have their behavioral idiosyncrasies due to their specialized training. They need firm alpha handlers. Scout’s no different. I only moved here recently. Besides the other cops, I don’t have friends close enough for me to turn to.” He was silent for a moment. “How about you?”
Jessica glanced up at Cal. “Me? What about me?”
“Would you take Scout until I’m done at the hospital?”
“That’s impossible.”
“You said you were finished here.” A smile spread across his face, and Jessica felt an uncharacteristic pull of attraction. That was totally inappropriate with a patient, she chastised herself.
“You’ve already proven you can handle Scout,” Cal continued. “And Scout’s demonstrated that he’s willing to accept commands from you.” He chuckled. “Not a common occurrence for a police dog.”
Jessica straightened. At her full height and in her comfortable work flats, she was only a few inches shorter than the cop. She gaped at him. “You’re asking me to take Scout home with me?”
The smile faded. “Well, you’re not giving me a lot of options, Doc, triaging me as ‘urgent.’ So, yeah.”
She started to shake her head, but he broke in before she could speak. “I have no other alternative on such short notice. You triaged me, treated me and said I have to go to the hospital. If I can’t get someone to take care of Scout, that’s not happening. I’ll just have to drive myself and Scout home, using my left leg.”
She’d been working the better part of nineteen hours now. She just wanted to get a few hours’ sleep before she was due back at the hospital. She didn’t have time to deal with a rude, pushy cop. Jessica was tempted to call his bluff, but then she remembered what had gotten Cal into this predicament to begin with. He had saved people, including the little girl, Kayla. He’d risked his own life to rescue Scout. If he cared that much about his dog, she had no doubt that he’d follow through on his threat and try to drive. If anything happened to him and the dog as a consequence, she would blame herself. She swiped impatiently at her bangs to get them out of her eyes.
She nearly agreed, then realized what she was about to do. Get personally involved and care too much about another patient. Granted, this patient wasn’t a child. And, okay, it was actually the patient’s dog. But she was a trauma doc. Her job was done. Cal could figure out what to do himself. It seemed impossible that he didn’t have anyone to turn to, someone from the police department certainly, but it wasn’t her problem.
Then Cal gave a soft command to Scout. “Ask nicely.”
To Jessica’s astonishment, the big dog sat back on his haunches and raised his forelegs in the air. He crossed his front paws, tilted his head and whined in a manner that sounded a lot like “Please.”
Jessica chuckled. “That’ll get the bad guys to drop their guns and surrender.”
“Just wait. Scout, say your prayers.”
The dog bowed his head, and covered his eyes with his front paws.
Jessica laughed outright.
“How can you say no to that?”
Jessica crouched down again and scratched Scout’s ears. “I’m sure I’m going to regret this, but okay.”
