Dr Blake's Angel

by Marion Lennox

  ‘When did you say the helicopter’ll be here?’

  ‘Maybe an hour.’

  An hour! Help.

  ‘Does anyone here know their blood group?’ she demanded. It was a forlorn hope, but she had to ask. ‘There isn’t anyone with O-negative blood, is there?’ O-negative was the universal donor. Without the facilities to cross-match, that was her only hope. Or Aaron’s only hope.

  And amazingly there was. Two men—brothers by the look of them.

  ‘We’re blood donors,’ they told her. ‘Doc Sutherland uses us a lot. Because, yep, we’re O-negative.’

  Miracle of miracles. O-negative and blood donors… If Blake used them regularly she could assume their blood was safe. Another glance at Aaron’s deathly white face confirmed what she believed. He was unconscious and he’d lost so much blood there was a risk of brain damage. The extra risks from not cross-checking would be more than outweighed by Aaron’s increased chances of survival.

  But could she do a blood transfusion on this heaving boat? She did a frantic visual check of equipment, thought it through and then nodded. She could but try. She had no choice.

  ‘OK. Lie down and swab your arms with antiseptic,’ she told them. ‘As soon as I have this bleeding stopped, I’ll be using you. I need all the blood I can get.’

  Her confidence silenced them all. The men were staring at her in amazement. These were local men and they knew her—or they’d thought they knew her. This was Nell McKenzie. Nell! The sad little town girl who’d been more trouble than she’d been worth.

  ‘Just do it,’ she said, sensing their uncertainty. ‘You need to trust me.’

  They looked again—and then both her potential blood donors nodded. Trust her? They did.

  The helicopter finally came from the north, and Nell was never more pleased to see anything in her life. By that time her major anxiety was for Blake and the other two men trapped on the ledge.

  She’d done all she could for Aaron. He desperately needed surgery if they were to save his leg, but she’d stopped the bleeding and given him enough blood to avoid brain damage. Or more brain damage. She’d feel a whole lot better if he gained consciousness. But now there was nothing else for her to do but to gaze up to where the ledge looked more and more fragile every time she looked. To Blake.

  But then the helicopter appeared. The men and women on board were competent and professional. They swung in over the cliff, a stretcher was lowered and within ten minutes everyone on the ledge had been winched to the top. Blake was winched up last, and as Nell saw him being hauled upward she felt almost sick with relief.

  Then there was a brief pause when they landed on the clifftop, followed by the wail of the ambulance siren receding into the distance. Presumably Blake and the injured fisherman were on their way to hospital. Nell could finally let out her breath on Blake’s behalf. Dear God, thank you.

  Why had she felt sick? She hardly knew the man. She’d met him two days ago. It didn’t make sense. She was accustomed to trauma—why should Blake’s fate worry her more than others?

  She only knew that it did. It wasn’t sensible in the least—but still it did.

  Then it was their turn. The chopper was back, lowering a stretcher for Aaron. It was a tricky operation on the choppy sea but this crew was good! Two paramedics were lowered as well. It hadn’t been safe to lower anyone not absolutely essential onto the ledge, but onto the boat it was different. Nell was suddenly redundant in the face of these people’s far superior training in moving the injured.

  ‘We’ll take him straight to the hospital,’ the paramedics told her, strapping Aaron onto the stretcher with skill and speed. ‘The chopper should reach the hospital almost as soon as the ambulance, and your Dr Sutherland will be there to meet him.’

  Her Dr Sutherland… The thought brought an unexpected jolt of comfort. She didn’t understand why, but it did.

  Finally, the winch was lowered once more. ‘This time it’s you, Doc,’ the paramedics told her. ‘It’ll be more than an hour before the boat can get you into harbour. There’ll be two patients back at the hospital now and Doc Sutherland needs help. He doesn’t want to send either man to Blairglen—at least until they’re stable—so he’s asked us to bring you in.’

  It made sense, Nell thought, but the idea of stepping into the harness and being winched upward made her feel ill. She had a baby on board.

  She looked at the harness, saw that her weight wouldn’t hang too heavily against her abdomen and shrugged.

  ‘I’m really sorry, baby,’ she whispered as she was roped into the harness. ‘If we get through this I’ll buy you the safest, snuggliest bassinet known to man, and I’ll never put you at risk again. Promise.’

  And then she was whisked up into the sky, to the chopper waiting overhead. To the hospital.

  To Blake.

  And it was a Blake who was seething.

  ‘What the hell do you think you’ve been playing at?’ Nell was no sooner through the door of Casualty than Blake’s pent-up anxiety exploded into unreasonable fury. ‘To go through the harbour mouth at that time. It was madness!’

  But Nell wasn’t in the mood for apologies. She was feeling sick with relief at being on firm ground, and she wanted to yell herself.

  ‘You know I had no choice.’ She took a deep breath and steadied. ‘How’s Dan?’

  Her carefully produced matter-of-fact tone had its effect, and only Nell herself knew how hard it had been to produce it. ‘Stable.’ Blake caught himself and grimaced. If she could act professionally then he’d better match it.

  ‘He’s broken his nose, smashed some teeth and knocked himself out. The combination almost killed him—he was breathing blood—but once I had an airway established he was fine. He’s conscious now, his breathing’s regular and I’m happy with him.’

  ‘Right.’ Nell was now purely in professional mode. In truth, the events of the morning had left her feeling dizzy, but there was work to do before she could indulge her own emotions. She couldn’t afford to let herself be anything other than a doctor.

  And she certainly couldn’t afford to do what she wanted—which was to put her arms around this damned man and hug him senseless. She hadn’t realised how frightened she’d been until then. Frightened for herself, frightened for her baby—frightened for Blake!

  Frightened for Blake? Why should she have been more frightened for him than for anyone else on the ledge? Why was he making her think like that?

  Medicine! Concentrate on medicine. And somehow she did. ‘Then Aaron needs our attention first.’ She motioned down to Aaron’s gory leg. ‘The leg fracture needs reducing.’ She didn’t explain further. Blake could see for himself what the problem was. The blood supply to the foot was almost completely blocked and the leg was flaccid and white.

  ‘I’ve tied off an artery, and the compound fracture is obstructing what remains of his blood supply,’ she told him. ‘We need to straighten it enough to get blood through until he gets to a vascular surgeon.’ She took a deep breath. ‘He’ll need to be taken to Blairglen for that, though.’

  ‘I can do that—if you’ll back me up with anaesthetic.’

  She stared. Vascular surgery… ‘You’re kidding!’

  He shrugged. ‘Vascular surgery was my specialty. I’ve done very little since I moved here but I can do what’s necessary.’

  ‘Right.’ She believed him. There was something about Blake Sutherland that said he wasn’t a man to blow his own trumpet lightly. If he said he could do it, she wouldn’t argue, and the time difference between operating now or waiting to operate until after transfer to the city might very well be the deciding factor in saving the foot.

  She cast one long assessing look at Blake, and she made up her mind. Aaron was loaded with morphine and drifting in and out of consciousness, and she squeezed his hand. ‘Aaron, can you hear us?’

  There was a faint return of pressure on her fingers. Which was wonderful. If he was responding now, it meant that the possibi
lity of brain damage through blood loss was minimal.

  ‘That’s terrific,’ she said. Blake was watching her, the last traces of his anger fading in the face of her professionalism. ‘Your leg’s at an odd angle and it’s blocking the blood supply to your foot,’ she told him. ‘Dr Sutherland and I are going to put you to sleep and straighten it out. Is that OK with you?’

  Another squeeze.

  ‘Well done,’ she said gently. Then she looked through to the waiting area. ‘I’m guessing that’s your wife outside, waiting. Wendy, isn’t it? I recognise her from school. We’ll bring her in before we pop you to sleep.’

  Then she moved back to Blake’s side, out of Aaron’s hearing, and she focussed on what lay ahead and only that. If she let herself feel exhaustion or let the terror of the morning take hold, she’d never get through this. ‘You’re sure you can do this?’

  He was watching her face and he was concerned. ‘If you’re sure you can do the anaesthetic.’

  ‘I don’t see we have a choice. If this fracture’s not reduced soon, he’ll lose his foot. And I’ve done my first part anaesthetics. It’s the major reason I had the job as senior casualty officer. I could put drips in better than anyone else in the hospital.’

  And she, too, wasn’t boasting. It was the simple truth, and Blake had the sense to recognise it.

  He cast her one last long look, though, and she knew he was seeing past the professionalism to the tumult of emotions that lay beyond. Sensibly, however, he accepted that they had to be ignored.

  ‘Then let’s go,’ he said. ‘Together we can do this.’ And he touched her lightly on the arm. ‘Together…’

  Finally they were finished. With Aaron in Recovery, Donald hovering by his side as the most competent attendant nurse they could wish for and Dan settled into the ward, there was time to stand back and take stock.

  Not bad. Not bad at all, Nell decided. All that drama and no deaths.

  But now that the need for action had passed, exhaustion washed over her like a heavy blanket. She ripped off her surgical gown and let it drop beside her. Suddenly she didn’t have the energy to move it an inch further.

  Blake was watching her. They’d been operating for over two hours, and he was almost as exhausted as Nell, but his eyes were only for her.

  ‘Sit down,’ he told her.

  ‘I don’t—’

  ‘Sit down.’ Before she knew what he was about he’d placed his hands on her shoulders and propelled her into a chair. ‘You look like you’re about to fall over.’

  ‘I’m not—’

  ‘Don’t argue. You have every right to fall wherever you want.’

  She looked up at him, stunned. Good grief! There was something in his voice that she hardly recognised. Tenderness? Surely not!

  ‘That was a magnificent effort,’ Blake told her, and this time there was no mistaking the emotion behind his voice. ‘From start to finish it’s been little short of miraculous. To tie off the artery… To do blood transfusions on board a boat in filthy weather. And that anaesthetic…’

  After that amount of blood loss they really should have stabilised Aaron first, but it was operate immediately or have him lose his leg. And Nell pulled him through. ‘Daniel told me you were good,’ he said. ‘But until now I hadn’t realised just how good.’

  She managed a smile. ‘I try to please—and you’re not bad yourself.’ That was an understatement. His skill as a vascular surgeon had left her stunned.

  But he wasn’t listening. He was focussed on her. ‘Hell, you’re past exhaustion.’

  ‘Maybe.’ She wasn’t about to commit herself any further.

  ‘And I’ll bet you’re still wet from that damned boat.’

  ‘I am not.’ Somehow Nell raised a hint of indignation and a smile. ‘Even my knickers are dry by now.’ She lifted her legs out and her crazy overalls were as stiff as board before her. ‘See? Dry as a bone, though I’ve got so much salt stuck to me…’

  ‘And blood.’ Blake was gazing down at her patchwork legs in disgust. ‘And I can see—and smell—the odd fish scale or two. Plus, there’s grease and antiseptic and heaven knows what else. I’m putting up Aaron’s antibiotic level to maximum and then some.’

  She could only agree, but she was too tired to care. Blake was in charge now. ‘Mmm.’

  He smiled. ‘How about taking your wonderful overalls off and I’ll get someone to take them to the cleaners? It’d be a shame to lose them.’

  She blinked. ‘My wonderful overalls?’ Was she hearing right? ‘Excuse me,’ she said cautiously, ‘but you don’t like my overalls.’

  ‘Who said I didn’t?’

  ‘I’m sure you didn’t. Your face said you didn’t.’

  ‘Then my face said wrong,’ he growled. ‘There’s nothing wrong with your overalls. In fact, there’s nothing wrong with you.’ He hesitated. ‘Nell, if it wasn’t for you, Aaron would be dead now. And those no-hopers at the top of the cliff… I told them to move back but they have the brains of sheep. I was never more grateful for anything than when I heard your voice.’

  ‘Being bossy.’

  ‘Bossy’s great, especially when it means I don’t have another couple of fool fishermen landing on my head.’ He smiled down at her—and such a smile! It made her catch her breath in something akin to panic.

  ‘I’ll hold you to that,’ she said, and if her voice was a trifle unsteady, who could blame her? ‘I… Maybe I’d best see to Aaron and talk to his wife. He should be almost awake.’

  ‘I’ll see to Aaron,’ Blake told her. He smiled again, deepening her sense of unreality. ‘And then I’ll do afternoon surgery while you, Dr McKenzie, take off those disgusting overalls, shower, get into bed and sleep. For the rest of the day.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘No argument,’ he told her firmly. ‘Do you want to risk losing your baby?’

  That stopped Nell. Maybe she had done a bit much today, she acknowledged. If anything happened to this pregnancy… ‘No! I mean…of course I don’t!’

  ‘There you go, then,’ he told her. ‘Bed. Now! And you’re not to stir until I come and wake you.’

  There was nothing more to be said. Except…

  ‘Yes, sir,’ she said meekly—and took herself off to bed. And the caring in his voice stayed with her until she went to sleep, and longer.

  CHAPTER SIX

  IT WAS nearly seven p.m. when Blake woke Nell. He was reluctant to wake her even then, but she hadn’t eaten lunch. They’d operated straight through. Now there was no evidence to show him that she’d eaten anything before she’d fallen into bed.

  Dinner was ready. Damn, he was a doctor, she was pregnant and she had to take care of herself, but when he opened her door a crack to discover she was still fast asleep, his reluctance deepened. Her hand was curled under her cheek and her bright splash of copper curls looked vivid against the stark white of the pillow. She looked like a child.

  She was anything but a child, he thought, letting his mind drift through the morning’s events. Her skills had stunned him. She was an amazing doctor.

  She was an amazing woman.

  She was his Christmas gift, he thought suddenly, and he was incredibly lucky to have her.

  As was Aaron. Blake was under no illusions. If Nell hadn’t been here this morning—if she hadn’t taken the risks she had—Aaron would be dead and there’d be a wife and three children facing a dreadful Christmas. Instead, they’d have a Christmas with a grumpy fisherman with his leg in a cast, but it definitely beat the alternative.

  Ernest was shifting on the foot of Nell’s bed. He saw Blake and wriggled his rump, thumping his disreputable tail against Nell’s legs so that Nell stirred and opened her eyes.

  And she smiled. Dear heaven… That was some smile!

  He was standing there like an inane fool. Somehow he managed to give himself a mental shake and haul his thoughts back on track.

  ‘Hi, sleepyhead. Are you hungry?’

  ‘Oh…’ It was a lov
ely, drawn-out sigh. She stretched out in her bed like a cat. ‘Oh, I guess I am.’ She glanced at her bedside clock and her eyes flew wide. ‘Seven!’

  ‘You’ve slept most of the afternoon. If you’d slept any longer it would have turned into morning, and I thought you should eat before settling for the night. For the sake of junior.’

  ‘Junior hasn’t been getting such a good deal lately,’ she admitted ruefully, and sat up. And then, as the sheet fell away, she gasped and hauled her bedclothes hastily back against her. She’d fallen asleep stark naked. Blake had a glimpse of full and gorgeous breasts, and then she was covered again.

  She didn’t blush. Instead…she giggled!

  ‘Whoops,’ she said, and hauled her sheets tighter against her. ‘Sorry. I couldn’t find my nightie. I looked for a whole two seconds and then bed called so urgently I couldn’t resist.’

  ‘Don’t mind me,’ Blake managed, though only just, and her smile widened at his discomfort.

  ‘I don’t. Ernest thought it didn’t matter, and seeing as he’s the only man in my life…’

  ‘Lucky Ernest.’

  ‘He is, isn’t he?’ She gave her dog an enormous hug—and Blake had another glimpse of those breasts!

  For heaven’s sake! He was a doctor and she was a pregnant woman. The glimpse of a bit of breast shouldn’t have the capacity to knock him sideways.

  But it did.

  He was tired, he told himself. That was all it was, nothing more. Make yourself talk sensibly, Sutherland. Now!

  ‘Dinner’s ready when you are.’

  ‘Great.’ She made to throw her covers off and then thought better of it. ‘Whoops,’ she said again. And grinned. ‘I’m determined to be unrespectable. Sorry. Could you and Ernest please leave?’

  ‘We know when we’re not wanted.’ Blake struggled to find a smile himself. Keep it light… He clicked his fingers. ‘Come on, Ernest. The lady wants some privacy.’

  She wasn’t fooled for an instant. ‘It’s not me who’s embarrassed,’ Nell called as he beat a hasty retreat. ‘Where’s your professional detachment, Dr Sutherland?’