Emergency in Alaska

by Dianne Drake

  “Only when you needed it.”

  “So, did you learn anything at all, other than the fact that your instructor was a complete jackass?”

  “Only that I loved my wilderness practice more than I’d realized, and I missed it dreadfully while I was away. Oh, and he wasn’t a complete jackass. At least, not all the time. And I did appreciate your lectures on West Nile virus since in all likelihood, with the huge mosquito population we already have in Alaska, we’ll have it introduced here in the not-too-distant future.”

  “Are you trying to be kind to me?”

  “Why would I want to be kind?” She chuckled. “Especially now that you’re trapped and can’t get away?”

  “Like I said, you’re evil.”

  “And if you don’t quit gripping the armrests like that, you’re going to have muscle spasms in your hands. Which won’t do me any good in surgery.”

  He glanced down, then immediately relaxed his grip and wiggled his fingers to restore the circulation to them. “I don’t suppose I could catch a bus or train back to Elkhorn when we’re through, could I?”

  Alek dipped the plane and pointed out the window to the array of lights on the ground. “Our destination. Now all I have to do is manage to land between the rows of light.”

  “And if you don’t?”

  “Well, we have several options then. Trees, a mountain, the torch fires. If I overshoot by much, the Kotzebue Sound. All rather inhospitable.”

  He studied Alek’s face for a moment, and saw the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth before he closed his eyes for the landing. Instead of grabbing hold of the armrests again, he merely folded his hands in his lap. “You’re good,” he said.

  “At what?”

  A great many things, he suspected. In her element, Alek was spectacular. “Getting my mind off the fact that you’ve held my life in the palm of your hand for the past half hour, and you’re landing me safely in spite of the fact that you hate me.”

  “Hate’s such a strong word. I think despise will do quite nicely, though.”

  Michael opened his eyes at the instant the wheels made contact with the ground, and he chanced a quick look at Alek.

  She was smiling at him, and that’s when it hit him. “Damn,” he grunted, shaking his head. How could this be happening? And with her, of all people? Maybe it was merely the effect of a lonely man being too close to a gorgeous woman for too long. Somehow, though, he didn’t think so. It might not be love in the complete sense, but he sure could be sneaking up on something like it. Affection, fondness, attraction… “Damn,” he muttered again.

  “Are you swearing because it was that good or that bad?”

  “Don’t know yet,” he muttered. “I really don’t know.”

  He was actually kind of cute, sitting there all panic-stricken and white-knuckled. It hadn’t been a bad trip overall. They’d gotten along quite nicely, and if not for that one big wedge still between them, she might have even fancied him a friend. Of course, that was going too far because she still knew why he was there. “So have you ever been on an iron dog?” she asked as she opened her door. “Because we’ve got another ten kilometers to cover, and you can have your choice, front or back.” The idea of sitting behind, clinging to him, did have a rather nice appeal to it. As silly as it might seem, she was keeping her fingers crossed that he did have snowmobiling experience because him sitting behind her, holding on, wasn’t nearly as exciting as her holding on to him. And straddling that iron dog behind Michael did evoke a feeling or two.

  “I’m surprised you’d trust me to get you there.”

  “Oh, I don’t trust you that much. But Oolagon will lead the way.” She pointed to a remote figure standing off to the side of the landing area—a large man, with long, gray hair tied back into a ponytail, and a somber look on his face. He was swinging a lantern back and forth as a signal. “And he’ll be pretty good to lead you around the occasional moose that might have stepped out into the path.”

  Michael reached back over the seat to pull out the various bags and boxes of supplies, and one by one handed them out to Alek. “Since you were in charge in the plane, I’ll be in charge on the iron dog. My turn to torture you.”

  “Absolutely. Anything you want to say, or anything you want to do, as long as it doesn’t end with me on the ground.”

  “Coming from you, that offer’s hard to refuse.”

  “But you’ve driven one, haven’t you?” she asked, handing two of her packs to one of the men who’d helped set up the torch field. “This won’t be your first time?”

  “You think I’m a beginner on the iron dog?” A devious chuckle rumbled from his chest. “I suppose you’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?” Michael hopped out, exchanged greetings with the man who was there to help, then headed over to the iron dog and climbed on. “You’re lagging behind, Alek,” he called. “Everybody’s waiting for you.”

  Suddenly, she didn’t know if this was such a bright idea after all. A good case of fantasy over practicality, and now she was beginning to regret it. But he’d already taken his place in the snowmobile queue, right behind Oolagon and in front of the other men, and they were waiting for her to come on board. If she didn’t hurry, well, she knew how people were about Michael. They’d take him on ahead to Bill Waite, then return for her when it was convenient. “On my way,” she called, running over to the line and hopping on behind him.

  After fastening on her helmet, she snaked her arms around his waist then laid her cheek on his back—on the cold fur of his parka. In spite of the brisk temperature, she felt a spark of heat. His or hers? She didn’t know, but the instant her arms reached around him she felt it, and it was enough to keep her warm. Enough, actually, to make her sweat inside her parka. A nice warmth and not so much about staving off the cold as it was about the proximity to Michael. And she liked that far more than she should. “I can do this,” she shouted as he revved the engine. “I can drive.”

  “You gave me my choice,” he shouted back. “Now, hold on tight because I don’t go back for anyone who bumps off.”

  He didn’t have to ask her twice to hold on tight. She’d been this route before and knew all the bumps intimately. Of course, there was a new little bump tonight—the one bumping double-speed in her chest—and she knew it wasn’t about the impending ride. Not in the least.

  So she was falling for him? What of it? In another day or two he’d be gone, and she’d get over him like she had the first time she’d had a little infatuation. Of course, the first time, she hadn’t got quite this close, and he’d certainly put an end to her feelings—albeit feelings from afar—in an ugly way. Now, even through the thickness of all their many layers of clothing, this closeness was nice in a way she hadn’t expected. Impossible, but nice. And, yes, to answer her own question, she was falling for him all over again, as stupid as that was. They had obstacles, they had issues, but none of that was sinking through the outer layers and convincing her heart to slow down.

  “Really stupid,” she said, as he accelerated. “Nothing good’s going to come of it.” Except the ride, which was very good pressed so tight against him, and she did love the way her body fit so well to his, even through all the padding.

  The ride to Ridgeover was much quicker than she expected, and Michael was proficient in his snowmobile skills. Except for a couple of good hard smacks along the way, the trip was surprisingly smooth. As she climbed off when they came to a stop outside a well-lit wooden cabin on the edge of Ridgeover, a village of substantially less than a hundred people, it didn’t take her long at all to find her land legs and scurry up the wooden steps and inside. Ahead of Michael for once. She was still flushed, which she didn’t want him to see, and it wasn’t from the ride.

  “Bill?” she said, dropping her parka on the floor next to the door. “It’s Alek Sokolov. I’m here with Dr. Morse, and we’re going to take care of you.” She didn’t know Bill Waite. To her recollection she’d never met him, and when she saw the
large, lumberjack-looking man lying on the bed, red as a bowl of her best borscht and sweating like he was in a sauna, she was immediately concerned that his appendix had already burst.

  “Appreciate that, Doc,” he panted, trying to smile up at her from his supine position. “Hurts like hell, pardon my language.”

  “I’ll bet it does. No need to apologize. How long has it been hurting?”

  “Three, four days, off and on. Not too bad until this afternoon, then it felt like all hell broke loose inside.”

  Alek took his wrist to check his pulse. Elevated. Not as strong as she would have liked. Then she watched the rise and fall of his chest to measure his respirations. Fast and shallow. And from the feel of his face, she was betting on a temperature a good four to five degrees above normal. As soon as Michael and Oolagon came in with the medical supplies, she’d check it with a thermometer. “Okay. I’m going to do a little prodding on your belly. Tell me when it only hurts, and when it hurts like hell.” As if she didn’t already know.

  Alek took a quick look at the woman who’d been attending Bill Waite. She was called Umuk, although Alek didn’t know her last name. “Has he had anything for pain?” she asked. “An aspirin, an ibuprofen? Any kind of a local cure?” And the people here did use local remedies of berries and roots and bark, and even animal fat. She smiled grimly. Michael’s quackery come to pass. Out here it was all around him.

  Umuk shook her head. “Oolagon said no, that we needed to keep him clean. So he’s had nothing. Not even water.”

  Alek smiled. “Good. Now, would you mind getting me a bucket of snow?” The best cooling agent for the surgery, and she had an unlimited supply right outside the door.

  Umuk nodded, then scurried away as Alek pulled the covers back from Bill’s chest, unzipped the flannel-lined jeans he was wearing and began her examination. She started her probing high, to see how far the pain radiated. “Just let me know,” she told him.

  “Believe me, Doc, that’s what I’ve been doing for hours, letting everybody within shouting distance know.”

  There wasn’t significant pain anywhere on the left side of his abdomen, but once she ventured over to the right and began to work her way downward, his barely audible gasps went to quiet moans and then to loud moans. By the time she’d reached the lower right quadrant, his moans turned into screams, and without the benefit of any modern testing equipment, she knew she had her culprit. A mighty hot appendix. Whether or not it had perforated, sending the infecting poisons out through his system, remained to be seen. She hoped not, but if she were a betting woman, she would have bet on it.

  Michael flew in the door at approximately the same time Bill quit screaming, and dropped the bags of medical supplies on the floor next to Alek’s parka. “What’s the verdict?” he asked, sliding out of his outerwear and letting it fall into the pile with the rest.

  “Red hot and ready to go, I’d say. And no time to waste.”

  “Has it perforated?”

  She stepped over to the door out of Bill’s earshot. “Probably. And I don’t think taking him back for the surgery is a good idea because right now he’s in no condition for a ride out the way we rode in. It would probably kill him.”

  “So we do it here.”

  He sounded casual about it, and a simple appendectomy wouldn’t have been such a worry. But if this one had burst, cabin surgery put him at risk almost as much as taking him back to the hospital. Either way, there wasn’t a good option here. Bill was in for a rough go no matter what they did. “I don’t see another choice. It would be easier if all we had to do was snip it, but he’s awfully sick and this has been going on for days. So if the appendix hasn’t burst yet, it’s awfully close, and I don’t think we should let it go on any longer. And, Michael, so you’ll know, I’m glad you’re here.”

  Michael bent down and when Alek expected him to whisper something to her, he gave her a gentle kiss on the lips. Short, sweet and, oh, so unexpected.

  “So am I, Alek,” he said quietly. Then he gave her another kiss, a little bolder, a little longer. Deep, arousing. A little more puzzling. “So am I.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  “NO WHISKEY this time,” Alek teased Michael as she tied on her surgical mask. “It may be fine for yanking out a tooth, but not for an appendix.”

  “Not even for the anesthetist?” he asked, a wide grin crossing his face as he checked the IV drip going into Bill. The bag of fluids was hanging from a moose head suspended over the bed—hooked on to one of the antlers. And Oolagon was busy dragging every last light in the cabin into place around the bed.

  Alek glanced up at the moose head, saw a surgical mask placed over its nose, and laughed. “From the looks of this surgery you’ve set up, I’d say you already found the whiskey. You and your buddy on the wall up there.”

  “You ought to laugh more often,” he said. “You get the cutest little crinkle around your eyes.”

  She was glad the mask covered all but her eyes because she could feel a warm blush creep across her cheeks and she didn’t want him to know he’d caused it, because he would, invariably, read more into it than there was. One little kiss, or actually two, and a nice compliment did not a relationship make, and right now she had the blush of a woman who might be falling in love. Or maybe had fallen a while ago and was only now beginning to realize it. But that woman couldn’t be her—not with him. And it wasn’t because of Dimitri, since once that whole situation was on the table for everybody to examine, he would see that Dimitri wasn’t at all what he thought him to be. It was two different worlds colliding, and hers was too set to change. She didn’t know how to begin even if she wanted to.

  Somehow, the splendid isolation of Alaska seemed to smile on that decision. Although Alaska didn’t share her bed at night, and it did get lonely. But it was the price she was reconciled to pay because it was simply…easier. Alaska wouldn’t turn its back on her. Neither would Dimitri. Those were her only guarantees in life.

  So Alek was glad to hide behind the mask and not let Michael see how he was affecting her. “Is our patient ready?” she asked, glancing back up at the moose. “You’ve checked his vitals again, and talked to him about allergies?”

  “His vitals are the same as they were earlier, except his temperature, which is gradually creeping up. And he denied allergies to anything—no medications, no foods, although moose does give him a little indigestion.” He glanced up at the moose head, too. “So I started the drip and by now he’s sleeping like a baby. One little dose of ketamine along with a lullaby and he’s good to go.” Michael pulled on his own mask and tied it behind his head. “And don’t think I didn’t see you blush, Alek, because I did.”

  “Did not,” she argued. “Because I don’t blush.”

  “Then maybe I should take your temperature before we start, because you might have a fever.” He glanced at his watch. Timing was everything and they still had a few minutes to wait until the drugs took complete hold.

  “Just the effects of the moment. That’s all.”

  “And maybe a kiss?”

  “Are you running a prophylactic drug for the infection?” she blurted, trying to get off the subject.

  “Two in combination. I found ceftizoxime and cefotetan in your kit so I hung both of them since we don’t know what kind of bug we’re fighting. And are you trying to avoid what happened, Alek? Trying to avoid talking about it?”

  “Something for nausea?” she persisted, still trying not to be drawn into a personal conversation. “Because once he wakes up I don’t want him to—”

  “I gave him ondansetron,” Michael interrupted, taking several steps closer to her. “He’ll be fine when he wakes up. Better than you, probably. At least, not as evasive.” Then he bent low to her ear. “It’s not over, Alek.” Making sure that Oolagon was watching over their patient, Michael pulled Alek into the bedroom. “You can evade all you want, but it’s not over.”

  “I’m not being evasive, Michael. I’m trying to concentrat
e. And there’s nothing started to be over with. You got carried away…”

  “You haven’t seen me yet when I’m carried away.”

  “Why are you doing this?” she hissed. “Especially now, when I should be focusing on what I’m about to do.” Truth was, the surgery wasn’t making her in the least nervous, but he was because she was afraid she had no will to resist him. Attraction aside, these past couple of days had made her realize that in all his various moods and manifestations, she hadn’t gotten over her very first reaction to him that day he’d walked onto the lecture stage. The tiff over Dimitri was a good excuse to put him at arm’s length, but eventually that tiff would be solved. Then what?

  Iron will. That’s what. Especially if Maggie were to stay with Dimitri, because that meant Michael would always thread in and out of her life in some way. And she was going to have to be the one to give him the straight arm—and never, ever bend it. “I really need to think about the procedure,” she lied, backing away from him.

  “It’s a three-inch incision, Alek. You could do it in your sleep. I think you’re trying not to concentrate on something that has nothing to do with an appendectomy.” He stepped to the door and looked out at Oolagon, who was monitoring Bill’s vital signs. Oolagon gave him the thumbs-up sign.

  “Okay, you want to talk about it, we’ll talk. What’s there to say, Michael? You kissed me. I’ve been kissed before.” But never like that. Even in its brevity, it had almost buckled her knees. Without any romantic intent whatsoever, it had been a kiss like she’d never imagined—the one she’d read about in all the romance novels that sizzled, and burned her lips and lingered. “People do strange things in tense situations, and it’s not a big deal.”

  “And you think me kissing you was a strange thing?”

  “Do you honestly think that this…this…whatever it is you’re toying with between us could work, Michael? A flirtation, an affair? First of all, there’s distance, and I have no intention of trying to close the geographical gap between us. I’m staying right where I am. And then, in case you’ve forgotten, there’s the reason you came to Alaska—to snatch your mother out of Dimitri’s depraved grasp. And I’m warning you again, like I have before, that I’ll never, ever let you hurt Dimitri in any way. So after we wade through all of that, do you still honestly believe that what you’re trying to start is wise? Or maybe you’ve turned me into your lost holiday—go to Alaska, find a woman who hasn’t been with a man, and in her desperation she’ll succumb to your charms, fall into your bed and salvage what’s left of your holiday.” She drew in a deep, steadying breath. “Not now, Michael. I won’t do this now. I’m here to be a doctor, and if you’re not…”