Doctor's Mile-High Fling

Molly’s heart rolled over for a second before righting itself.

Okay. No staring. She forced her gaze back to Sammi.

“How was the flight in?” Sammi tilted her head at Blake, her thumb rubbing at a tiny spot on her monkey-stamped smock.

Great. Here it came. The perfect opportunity for Blake to get in a shot at Molly’s expense. She tensed in preparation.

“We hit a stormy patch on the way in, but once we got through it, it was smooth sailing.”

A sardonic brow lifted in her direction made her wonder if he was referring to the actual weather or to the clash of tempers that had gone on between them. As for smooth sailing, that was yet to be seen.

“Well, now that you’re here, let me give you the grand tour. Besides, that’ll give us girls a chance to get to know each other better.”

Blake’s brow furrowed. “Be nice.”

“Moi? I’m always nice.” She motioned for Molly to follow her through the door that led to the back of the clinic, wiggling her fingers at Blake as a goodbye.

Although these two were obviously friends from way back, nothing seemed to suggest there was anything more between them than that. Even if there was, it was none of her business. She had to admit, though, they’d make a gorgeous couple, with Blake’s rugged good looks and Sammi’s dark hair and striking features. And the other woman was tall enough to almost look Blake in the eye, whereas Molly barely reached his chin. Talk about runts.

Sammi took her to one of the exam rooms which, along with the familiar scent of disinfectant, was clean, airy and well appointed. The soft green walls and creamy Formica countertops gave the space a cool, calm atmosphere, a definite plus when working with worried parents or frightened youngsters. “We have three exam areas, but there’s normally only one of us on duty at any given time. Having the Anchorage hospital sponsor you will make our jobs a lot easier.”

“You said, ‘our.’ What’s the staffing like?”

“We have two receptionists, a nurse and a PA, who can also write prescriptions. During medevacs, things get hectic because someone has to accompany the patient.” She gave an innocent blink. “That’s where you come in, right? You’ll be taking over that part of the job, unless we have more than one emergency.”

Molly was tempted to plead ignorance and say she was strictly part of the ground crew, but the hospital had specifically wanted one of their own doing the medical transports. So that line of reasoning wasn’t going to fly. “That’s what they tell me.”

“Blake’s great. You’ll like working with him.”

This was her chance. “You’ve known each other a long time?”

Sammi led her back out into the hallway and pushed open a door to the restroom, so Molly could see it. “We grew up together, so I guess you could say that.” She hesitated. “His ex put him through the wringer a couple of years back. He can be a bit touchy about the subject.”

“Understandable.” Molly was a little raw from her own experience with her ex, Gary, so she’d be happy to swing clear of that particular subject.

The door at the end of the hallway opened to a tiny break room, complete with refrigerator and microwave. There was also a cot along one wall. “You spend the night?”

“Every once in a while, if we’re waiting on a birth or need to transport a patient to the airport to be medevaced. But we all carry cellphones. If there’s an emergency, most folks know how to reach us after hours. Are you okay with going on the phone list?”

“Of course. Anything I can do to help.”

“Now for the all important question: when do you want to start?”

Molly swallowed. If she wanted to back out, now was the time. But Sammi was so nice, seemed eager for her to take some of the load off the other workers. And she really, really didn’t want to go back to Anchorage and face Gary day in and day out or field his constant calls. He refused to believe it was really over, even after six months. As did her mother. Was it really fair to allow them both to keep holding out hope?

No. It wasn’t. “I have to go back to Anchorage to finish packing. I could probably start in two weeks. Oh, and I’ll need to find a place to rent. Do you know of anything?”

“Let me check and give you a call in the morning. Blake says you’ll be over at the hotel? We’ll find you something. Any preferences?”

“Not really. Just a place to sleep. Nothing fancy.”

“Good, because nothing fancy is what Unalaska does best.” She squeezed Molly’s hand. “Just leave it to me. Now I’d better get you back to Blake before he has a hissy fit. See you in two weeks?”

“Definitely.”

And if Blake didn’t want to fly her back in two weeks, well, like he’d said, there were plenty of pilots where he came from.

* * *

Molly awoke to the sound of something pinging against the windowpane of her hotel room. Squinting, she tried to see the clock.

Too blurry.

Ugh, her contacts were still on the nightstand. She reached over and felt around for the glasses she’d left next to her contacts case. Slipping them on, she glanced again at the clock.

Her heart stalled in her chest.

Seven-thirty! She was supposed to be at the plane in a half hour.

Blake hadn’t asked about her breakfast plans or mentioned picking her up and taking her to the airport. In fact, by the time he’d shown her around the island and dropped her off at the hotel yesterday afternoon, he’d seemed all too anxious to be rid of her. He’d said goodbye with a wave of his hand, before getting back in his car and driving away to wherever he lived.

He’d probably been exhausted from their flight and from schlepping around with her all day. Molly loved the clinic, and Sammi had seemed especially nice, not a hint that she or anyone else viewed her as a threat.

Except maybe Blake, who’d said she needed to be strapped into her seat by eight o’clock.

Or else. Leaping out of bed, she scrambled for her clothes, thankful she’d taken a shower the previous night to banish the chill that had burrowed deep into her bones.

The pinging noise outside was still going strong, like someone throwing pebbles repeatedly against the glass. Well, she could think of at least one person she could rule out, if that was the case.

She tiptoed to the window, clothes in hand, and parted the curtains several inches. Still dark. Then she caught the glitter of stones on the sidewalk.

No, not stones. Hail. The size of gumballs.

And it wasn’t just hailing. Now that she was awake, she realized the gloom was caused by heavy gray clouds that covered the sky. The wind was also howling, kicking up leaves and sending some of the scattered ice drops skittering down the walkway. Her fingers tightened around the clothing she held. Even if she made it to the airport on time, could they take off in these conditions?

Please, no. She’d already flown through one storm. The last thing she wanted to do was make a bigger fool out of herself than she had yesterday.

With her luck, no pilot in his right mind would agree to fly with her after that.

And by the end of the day Blake had seemed so…

Impatient.

He was probably dreading the return trip as much as she was. Maybe she’d be better off not even taking the job.

Except she’d promised Sammi she would, and the hospital was counting on her to follow through. And this job was a lifeline, appearing just when she’d really needed it.

Apart from the flying, which she wondered if she could do—especially while dealing with critically ill patients—she found she liked the island and its inhabitants. She knew the biggest industry was fishing, but was surprised to learn the port itself did quite a bit of business. As they’d driven around yesterday, Blake had pointed out a huge vessel stacked high with various-colored shipping containers getting ready to dock.

She continued to stare out the window, wondering what she should do, when a dark familiar shadow stopped in front of her door. With one hand shoved deep into his pocket, Blake braced himself against the wind, preparing to knock. Just as she got ready to slam the curtains back together, their eyes met.

Argh! Too late.

She still had on the sweatpants and threadbare white tank top she’d worn to bed. And if she could see him, he could see…

His lips quirked, and a rush of heat poured into her face. She held up a finger, hoping he’d catch her meaning. Maybe she could get dressed really fast and…

Poor guy. It was freezing out there. She glanced down. It wasn’t like she was in a negligee or anything. She could at least let him into the room while she ducked into the bathroom to get dressed.

Padding over to the door, she made sure her clean clothes were draped to conceal key areas of her chest before opening it. “Come in. I’m running a little late—sorry.”

“I tried to call, but they’re having trouble with the phones evidently, because I couldn’t get through.” He glanced at her as if seeing her for the first time. “Uh, I can wait out here until you get ready.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s hailing. Besides, I’m freezing standing here.”

That worked. He slid through the opening and let her shut the door behind him.

Heading for the bathroom, she called behind her, “I’ll just be a minute.”

Once she made it safely inside, she leaned against the wall. Did she even want to look in the mirror?

She opened her eyes and peered into the reflective surface.

Glasses. Great. They weren’t even her good pair. And she’d left her contact case on the nightstand.

Leaning closer, she moaned at the sight that met her eyes. Tangled hair, sticking out every which way. Waistband of her sweatpants skewed way to one side, creating a series of unflattering wrinkles that slanted from right to left. And was that a piece of sleep?

Yep. Right in the corner of her eye.

She dropped her head in her hands and moaned. Maybe if she stayed in the bathroom long enough, he’d go away and let her die in peace. He looked clean, rested and, most of all, well groomed.

He smelled good, too, like he’d just hopped out of the shower.

Well, all she could do was work with what she had. He’d just seen her at her worst, so even dragging her fingers through her hair would be an improvement.

She worked as fast as she could, dressing in jeans and a heavy turtleneck, scrubbing her teeth and face then sweeping a coat of clear gloss over her lips. Once she’d finished, there was a moment or two when she entertained the thought of hiding out for a while, before deciding to be a big girl and face him. One deep breath later, she’d opened the door.

Camped out in a chair, Blake sat next to the bed, which was a wreck from all the tossing and turning she’d done during the night. His elbows were propped on his knees as he stared at the images flickering across the weather channel. He glanced up, his eyes sweeping over her as she came into the room. He sat up straighter.

“I like your…er, glasses. I didn’t notice them yesterday.”

“That’s because I wore contacts.” That he’d had to scrounge around for something nice to say couldn’t be good. She gave an internal shrug. So what if she’d noticed every incredible inch of him from the moment he’d climbed aboard that plane, while he barely even remembered what she looked like?

She squared her shoulders. The last thing she was trying to do was impress him. “How’s it looking out there?”

“Not good. I think we might end up staying another—”

A knock at the door interrupted whatever he’d been about to say. Molly frowned at him in question before hurrying over to fling it open.

“Dr. McKinna?” A man, shrouded in a drab green raincoat, stood in the doorway, his head covered by the jacket’s hood. Even shadowed, and with water sluicing down his face, she thought she saw worry in his eyes.

“Yes. Is something wrong?”

“Sammi said she tried to reach you by phone and couldn’t get through, so she asked me to drive over and see if you were still here. There’s a man down over at the dockyard.” He braced himself against a gust of wind, and Molly had to hold the door to prevent it from being ripped from her hands. Blake came up behind her, the heat from his body warming her back.

“Hi, Mark,” he said, confirming his presence. “What’s going on?”

“The damn wind knocked a container sideways and it caught one of the workers in the leg. I was checking on a shipment for a customer and saw it happen. It’s bad, there’s bone showing through. I came to see if the doc here could take a look.” He glanced at her just as a growl of thunder rumbled through the atmosphere, bringing with it another blast of wind. Her fingers scrabbled to retain their hold of the door just as the man’s next words chilled her to the bone. “If there’s any way you can get the plane up, he needs to be transported out. The sooner, the better.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“HAVE you moved him?”

Yanking on her jacket, Molly’s mind ran through various scenarios. Compound fractures could be tricky. When a bone ripped through skin and muscle and was left open to the elements, infection could easily follow. The less sanitary the accident location, the worse it was for the patient, especially if anything outside the body had contaminated the exposed bone.

The man who Blake called Mark dragged a hand through his hair. “No, the bone is…Hell, it looked so bad, no one dared. The men threw a couple blankets over him and were rigging some plastic to keep him dry until I could find you. I’d medevac him myself, but Blake’s plane is basically a flying ambulance. Mine just doesn’t have that kind of equipment.”

“You made the right decision.” Although she hated to think of an injured man out in this weather, she didn’t want that exposed bone receiving additional damage from attempts to drag him to another site. And she hoped to God those blankets were clean. “How much bleeding is there?”

“Some. But nothing’s gushing.”

Thank God. No severed arteries.

“Is he conscious?”

Mark shook his head. “As soon as he hit the ground, he was out cold.”

Blake had gone out to warm up the car without being asked, for which she was grateful.

She and Mark hurried outside, and Molly slammed the hotel room door behind them. “We’ll follow you, okay?”

“You bet. The crate fell across the aisle, so we’ll have to circle around a bit to reach him, but at least it’ll block the worst of the wind.”

After she jumped into the car, Blake accelerated, following the taillights in front of them. “Put your hands over the vent. It’ll help keep them warm until we get there.”

She yanked off her gloves and held them over the heated flow of air. Not because it felt good, but because the warmer her hands stayed now, the more nimble they would be once they arrived. For a pilot, Blake knew a thing or two about medicine. But then again he flew rescue missions all the time. It gave her another insight into her father. By the time of his death he must have known almost as much as the EMTs and nurses he’d worked with.

“How far to the dockyard?” she asked.

“With the weather, fifteen minutes or so. It’s in Dutch Harbor, so we won’t have to cross the bridge into Unalaska.” He clicked the wipers into high gear to keep up with the sleety rain as they followed Mark’s taillights.

She peered into the sky. Heavy gray clouds. No sign of the rain letting up any time soon. “Why would anyone work in weather like this?”

“Sometimes you don’t have a choice.” He slid a glance at her, his lips tight. “You’re working.”

“Yes, but this is an emergency. And it’s my job.”

“Mine, too. The dockyard folks have to work as well, even if it’s just to secure the area.”

He had a point. And in a place famous for its rough weather, it probably came down to working or going hungry.

This was what her father must have faced time and time again. And yet he’d claimed to love it.

Why?

By the time they got to the container area, her thoughts had shifted to the job at hand. Blake followed Mark as he cruised between aisles of stacked containers.

So big.

She swallowed. “Can you imagine if one of these fell on somebody?”

“Yeah. I can.”

He’d not only imagined it, he’d seen it up close, if his tense jaw was anything to go by.

“Did he live?”

“Who?”

“The person you’re thinking about.”

A quick shake of his head conveyed his meaning all too well. Crush injuries were among the worst. And if the crate landed directly on top of someone…

The truck in front of them pulled to a stop, and Molly immediately spied a huge blue tarp stretched between two shipping containers.

She pulled the hood of her coat into place since it was still sleeting, grabbed her medical bag, then exited the vehicle. She was vaguely aware that Blake had also gotten out. Hurrying around Mark’s parked car, she found four men standing under the plastic, with a fifth man kneeling next to the victim, who appeared to be unconscious at the moment. The patient’s pale face and the slightly blue cast to his lips signaled shock. Her eyes quickly scanned the body through the blanket.

Crouching next to him, she felt for a pulse—which seemed strong enough—before pulling back the layers of blankets from his bottom half, noting the fabric of his work pants had been slit up the middle, laying bare his leg from ankle to groin. Good thinking.

The fracture was in the left femur, the jagged edge of the exposed bone pointing to the left as if thumbing a lift out of there.

Soon. I promise.

The other half of the break was nowhere to be seen, hidden somewhere deep inside his leg. But if it looked anything like the bone she could see…Her stomach knotted. Move him the wrong way and the sharp edges could indeed slice through an artery and kill him.

“How long’s he been unconscious?”

One of the men behind her answered. “About a half hour, maybe a little longer. I saw the whole thing. He was out as soon as his head hit the ground.”

“How hard did he hit?” She made a mental note to check for signs of a concussion or skull fracture.

“Pretty hard. And once we saw the angle of the leg, we knew it was broken. We just cut his pant leg to see how bad it was.” The man swallowed hard. They hadn’t expected to find what they had.

She slipped on a pair of latex gloves then used her thumb to pull back the wounded man’s right eyelid. Flicking the beam from her penlight across the pupil, she then repeated the action with the other eye.

Equal and reactive. Good. No evidence of brain trauma at the moment.

Working quickly, she again took his pulse, then ran her hands down his unaffected limbs, making sure she wasn’t missing another obvious fracture. Everything felt solid.

Blake knelt beside her. “What can I do?”

“I want to get an IV into him, but we can do that once we get to the plane. Right now, I need to stabilize his leg. Can you find me some heavy sticks or a couple pieces of lumber? Not too long, maybe—”

She held her hands apart, approximating the size she wanted.

“I’m on it.”

He hadn’t balked at the task, neither had he batted an eyelash at the sight of the man’s open wound. Evel Knievel or not, he was evidently good at his job.

While he was gone, she grabbed a small bottle of saline and sponged away the blood so she could see the area better. She then wet several pieces of sterile gauze and laid them over the wound, one on top of the other, to keep the bone moist and avoid further contamination. Those layers were topped with a few dry ones, in case the bleeding continued. Blake was back by the time she was done, holding a couple of clean-looking one-by-fours.

“These okay?”

“Perfect.” She nodded toward her bag. “I’ve got some hand sanitizer and some surgical gloves in there. I’ll need you to help me splint him, if you’re up to it.”

As soon as she said it, she glanced up to make sure he was in agreement, but he’d already handed off the wood to someone else and was squirting the sanitizer onto his hands.

“Does anyone have a truck or a van we can use to transport him to the airport? Something with a large covered area?”

Neither of the local clinics were equipped to do surgery like this, and Anchorage had a great orthopedic surgeon who was willing to come in at a moment’s notice. She’d radio it in once they were in the air.

“I do.” The man who’d been kneeling next to the patient spoke up. “It’s in the parking lot.”

She noticed his hesitation and wondered if he was worried about liability issues. “I’ll take responsibility,” she said.

“It’s not that. He’s going to be okay, isn’t he? He’s…he’s my…”

When the man’s voice cracked, Mark spoke up. “They’re brothers. Jed—your patient—lost his wife to cancer a few months ago. He’s got two young kids at home.”

Oh, boy.

She turned to the man who couldn’t have been older than his early twenties. No need for him to see what she was about to do. “We’re going to take good care of him, I promise. Do you think you could bring your truck as close as you can? Once we splint his leg, we’ll be ready to go.”

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