by Clare Revell
Mani grinned. “Guard you with me eyes shut? Should be a doddle. So long as you promise to sing in tune this time.”
Despite her tiredness and dismay at having to be protected, Lucy chuckled. “Deal.”
~*~
The sun rose as Lucy checked on her patient, as she had every hour during the night. She smiled at him. “You’re doing well.”
“Morning.” Tim appeared beside her.
“Morning, boss.”
“Is he fit to go?” Tim asked.
“I’d preferred he stay another—”
“I didn’t ask what you preferred, doctor. I asked if he is fit to leave.” Tim cut her off, his eyes flickering, full of concern.
She followed the sideways glance to the door, seeing four armed men standing there, one rifle aimed at her. So that was the way the cookie crumbled. “Yes, but…”
“Good.” Tim turned and headed back outside.
Less than a minute later, two men came in, their boots dropping dirt and sand all over the floor. They helped her patient to his feet.
“Wait a second,” she began. “You can’t just take him.”
“No time. We go now,” one of the men insisted.
“One moment.” Her patient looked at him. “What is your name?” He looked back at her.
“Dr. Boyd.”
“I mean your given name.”
She held his gaze. “Lucy.”
“Thank you for saving my life, Lucy. I will not forget this.” He nodded and let the two soldiers help him to the door.
Lucy followed, standing by the railing as they loaded him onto the back of a truck. The three trucks left, spraying dirt high into the air. “I must clear up.”
Tim shook his head. “Did you sleep last night?”
“Not as such. I was on duty.”
“Then you sleep now. Vic and Mani can handle the clinic.”
“I can sleep later,” Lucy huffed. “Right now I have to go clean up before clinic starts. That bed needs wiping down and then remade with clean sheets and the floor needs sweeping. I also need coffee, assuming there is any left.”
She spent the morning in-between seeing patients, scrubbing down the bed and washing the bed linen. She hung it to dry and headed back inside as the last morning patient left.
Mani smiled. “Are you coming for lunch?”
“I’ll be right there. Just need to get the clean linen out.” She headed into the laundry space and climbed on the stool. The linen had been pushed right to the back of the shelf. She groaned. “Figures. Hate working with tall people,” she muttered.
She stood on tiptoe, but the sheets were just out of reach.
Lucy sighed. She put one foot on the counter and stretched as far as she could.
Just as she gripped the sheet, her foot slipped. She fell backwards, twisting, trapping her left knee in the bars of the stool. Pain flooded her and she closed her eyes.
4
Lucy struggled through the sticky black cloud surrounding her and forced open her eyes. Her left leg was still half twisted, half suspended. Using her elbows, she pushed herself to a sitting position, crying out with pain. She felt down her leg, trying to work out how she was trapped, and managed to pull the stool away. Agony rocketed through her, and she bit her lip, in a vain attempt to muffle the scream.
She took a moment to suck in a deep breath, which didn’t help, before letting her fingers probe her knee. They only confirmed what her eyes told her. The knee cap was dislocated.
The door flung open. “Lucy, you all right in here?”
“Over here,” she managed.
Vic’s running footsteps grew closer, until his feet appeared beside her. “Lucy? What happened?”
“I fell. Hurt my knee.”
Vic tried to help her up. But that simple movement had her screaming and begging him to stop. He put her down again. “I’m going for some help. Don’t move.”
“Not planning on it,” she gasped. She closed her eyes. Don’t act like a baby, Luce. You can control this pain. It doesn’t control you.
More footsteps ran into the room.
She opened her eyes to find Vic, Mani, and Tim looking worriedly at her. “Hi.”
Tim gently pushed her down. “Just lie still. OK, gents, roll her onto the spine board on three.”
“Spine board? It’s my knee, not my neck.” She tried pushing up, crying out again.
“Don’t argue.” Tim’s voice was uncharacteristically harsh. “Ready?”
Lucy closed her eyes. She hadn’t been on a spine board since med school when they had to practice on each other. And she’d hated it then. Pain soared off the scale as they rolled her first to the right and then back flat. Tears filled her eyes as she was lifted and carried.
“It’s OK,” Tim said. “We’ll fix this, don’t cry.”
“Not…crying…” she whispered. She was more mortified than anything else. Yes, it hurt, and hurt a lot, but she didn’t want them seeing her like this. Even the gentle thud as they set the board on the exam table barreled through her as if they’d shot her.
Vic grabbed the scissors and began to cut her left scrub leg lengthways, ignoring her protests. “You really do make a lousy patient, Lucy. What did you do?”
“Told you, I fell. It’s dislocated.”
Vic’s face creased in concern. “I can see that.” He finished cutting off the scrubs, turning them into shorts so short, Lucy’s face burned.
“You need to put the kneecap back,” Tim said. “You know how to do that?”
Vic nodded. “Yeah.”
Lucy closed her eyes, screaming in pain as his fingers probed. She knew he was being as gentle as he could, but he might as well be shoving red hot knives into her.
“OK. On three.” His hands cupped her knee. “One, two…”
Intense agony pierced her, pinning her to the table as Vic shoved her knee back into place. Tears streamed down her face. “You…said…three.”
“Yes,” Vic told her. “You do the same. I didn’t want you tensing and making it hurt more.” He examined her leg more thoroughly, fingers probing from the top of her thigh down to the tips of her toes. “I don’t like this. I wish we had the facilities here for an X-ray. I’m not convinced this is right now.” He caught her gaze. “Oh, the patella is back in place, no worries there.”
She pushed herself up on her elbows. “Then what?”
“Don’t move until you’ve been plastered. Mani, give her some morphine for the pain. Might make her sleep a little as well.”
“No!” Lucy shook her head vehemently. “Not morphine or pethidine. I’m allergic to them. Codeine or paracetamol. And no sedative either.”
Vic raised his hands. “Lucy, be reasonable. And I’m sending you to the city for an X-ray.”
“No,” she cried. They’d send her home and she didn’t want to go home. She needed to be here. “No hospital and no plaster. Just give me the codeine and strap it up with lint, bandage, and tubigrip.”
“Don’t be awkward,” Mani told her.
Lucy pushed up on her elbows. “You need a doctor here and that’s me.”
Vic held out the meds. “Then physician, heal thyself,” he snapped. “Take these and let me strap you up.”
Lucy swallowed the pills and lay down. She bit her lip, clutching hard on the sides of the table as Vic started to bandage her knee.
Spots swam in front of her eyes.
“Not going to faint on me, are you?” Vic’s voice came from a long way off.
She fought her way back to him. “No…Just give me a minute.”
Loud, heavy metal music filled the compound.
She sighed. “Great, just what I need.” She pushed up on her elbows and sat. “Give me that tubigrip.”
Vic shook his head. “For crying out loud, Lucy. You are the worst patient ever. There is no way you’ll be able to put that on your own knee right now, and you know it.”
She had to admit, grudgingly, that he was right, but there was
no way this side of heaven she was going to tell him that. She bit her lip as the bandage slid over her swollen knee, pressing into it.
“Anyone home?” Jed’s voice echoed through the window. “Come out, come out wherever you are.”
“I should go.” Tim ran outside.
Lucy looked at Vic. “Pass me those crutches and let me be.” She rolled her eyes at the expressions of disapproval that met her. “Don’t even bother to argue. Just do it. Then give me a few minutes alone.”
Mani leaned the crutches against the side of the table and he and Vic headed outside.
Once she was alone, Lucy screwed up her eyes. It hurt more than she wanted them to know, despite the meds. It shouldn’t be so bad, not now Vic had put the patella back in place. What have I done? Her mind listed the possibilities. Dislocated the actual knee joint? Broken the joint? Torn ligaments?
She sat up slowly and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She stifled the involuntary cry of pain.
Footsteps echoed on the verandah. No way would she be found sitting. She wouldn’t have anyone think she couldn’t cope with this. She grabbed the crutches, gripped them tightly, and pulled herself up. “Agh!”
There was no way she could bear weight. She could barely balance. Her fingers turned white as she gripped the handles.
The door swung open with a thud. “Dr. Boyd. What’s a good looking sheila like you, doing in back o’bourke—” He dropped the box on the side with a crash. His gaze ran over her body. “Strewth. What in the world have you done to yourself, woman?”
“I fell.”
“I can see that, you drongo.” His gaze settled on her legs.
Lucy realized her trousers were almost non-existent and he could probably see way more than he had a right to. Bad enough the others had seen her like that, but him? Her face flamed. “If you don’t mind, I have things to do.”
He waved a hand, his gaze still riveted to her thigh. “Be my guest.”
Lucy moved the crutches, trying to take a small step and lost her balance. She fell, screaming as her leg folded under her.
Jed swore and bent beside her. “Crikey, woman, are you trying to kill yourself?” He slid his arms beneath her, effortlessly picking her up.
She closed her eyes, trying to cope with the increased pain levels. Her face grew hotter as his hands almost burned into her bare skin. Her face pressed against his all too firm chest. His heart beat strongly under her cheek.
Jed sat her on the bed. “I’m assuming its pants you want. Where are they?”
She didn’t think it was possible to get more embarrassed. “I’m wearing pants, thank you.”
He rolled his eyes and smirked. “I can see that, but if I meant knickers, I’d have said knickers. Scrubs or shorts?”
“Oh…right.”
He jerked his head. “So tell me where they are and I’ll get them for you.”
“I don’t want you going through my things, but thank you.”
“Look, woman,” Jed said, waving his hands in frustration. “Now is not the time for your high and mighty, holier than thou, Pommy attitude. You can take your stiff upper lip and shove it where the sun don’t shine. I know you’d far rather I just rack off and leave you, but I have a job to do. Therefore, if I have to stand here and wait while you go through the supplies, I’d rather you be dressed. Of course, if you’d prefer to do this half naked, then maybe I should remove my pants to even things up.” His hands hovered over his belt, his eyes daring her to agree with him.
“No.” She sucked in a deep breath.
He looked provocatively at her, his fingers grazing over his belt buckle. “You sure? I mean, my legs aren’t as pretty as yours, but I’m sure you won’t mind. Of course I did go commando—”
Outraged, Lucy glared at him. “Mr. Gorman, behave yourself.”
He laughed. “This is me behaving myself, darl’. But I can stop just as easily. So where’s your room?”
Lucy swallowed her pride, ignoring the innuendo attached to his comment. “Through the back.”
Jed swung her into his arms again. “Come on, then.”
She directed him, hating her body for betraying her the way it was. She didn’t like the bloke. She didn’t want her heart rate to increase, her skin to flush and her breathing to hike ever so slightly. And she definitely didn’t want him to pick up on it.
Jed pushed open her bedroom door and took three long strides to the bed. He set her down gently, then gazed around the room. “It’s very…you. Minimalist.”
She shrugged. “I don’t need much. The shorts are in the third drawer.”
Jed strode to the chest of drawers. He picked up the sepia photo, running his fingers over it. “Who’s this? Boyfriend?”
“It’s my father.” She pressed her fingers into the edge of the mattress. How long before the meds kicked in? All she wanted was five minutes alone; was that too much to ask?
“He looks young. Did he have you when he was five?”
“He died when I was small. I don’t remember him.”
Jed put the photo down, pointing to another. “And this one?”
“My mother.”
His intense blue gaze took in the remaining photos. “Just shorts?”
“Maybe a shirt, please. Second drawer.”
He yanked open the drawers and pulled out a pair of khaki shorts and a pale cream shirt. He brought them over. “Need help putting them on?” he asked.
“No, I do not!” she yelled. Then she backed off a little. “I can manage, thank you.”
He held up his hands. “OK, OK, calm down. No need to do your block, I only offered.” He touched his head as if to check it was still on his shoulders and backed out of the room.
Lucy closed her eyes as the door shut. Pain made her cranky; she knew that. But this…this made any other aches and pains she’d ever had vanish into the vast blue yonder without a trace.
~*~
Jed leaned against the door as he closed it. Flaming sheila would try the patience of a saint, and a saint he was not. Nor did he want to be. Ever.
Tim came through the door from the dispensary into the small hallway. “Jed? Have you seen Lucy anywhere?”
Jed cleared his throat.
Just a shame he couldn’t rid the woman from his mind the same way. Seeing her like that…seeing way more of her than he wanted to, had forced his mind to go places it had no business going. “Dr. Boyd wanted to dress. She can’t walk, so I carried her. What did she do?”
“She fell somehow and dislocated her knee. But she needs to go to the hospital and get the whole leg X-rayed.”
A short cry of pain came from the room behind him.
Tim knocked on the door. “Luce, you OK in there?”
“No…” The strangled cry let on more than she probably wanted.
“Excuse me.” Tim opened the door and went in, closing it behind him.
Jed shook his head, and strode back into the main clinic. He looked at Vic and pointed to the crate. “So, your supplies are here. Everything the doc ordered came.”
Vic frowned at the crate. “She ordered flowers?”
Jed stifled a smile. “That’s a personal package for the doc. Someone knows she likes them, I guess.”
Vic unpacked the crate and signed for the delivery. “I’ll see she gets them.”
“I’m not going and that’s final!” Lucy’s raised voice echoed through the entire building.
“Lucy, be realistic. You can’t walk or bear weight.”
“Hence the crutches.”
Tim marched into the clinic. “Vic, reason with her.”
“There is no reasoning with Lucy, you know that. She’s as stubborn as they come.”
Lucy slowly pulled herself into the room. Her normally pale skin was white, with the exception of the bags under her eyes. Sweat beaded her brow. Pain wracked her features and filled her red-rimmed eyes. Her left leg didn’t touch the ground and it was evident just that short distance had exhausted her. “I�
��ll be fine. I’ll sit to treat people. The guys can fetch and carry for me.”
“Fine.” Tim pointed to a chair, his tone curt. “Sit.”
Lucy lowered herself to the chair, her face creasing in agony.
Tim leaned his hip against the counter. “OK, so a patient comes in. Late twenties, early thirties. Female. Severe damage to the knee. Dislocated patella, which was replaced on scene by a local tribesman.”
Jed chuckled. He knew exactly where this was going.
Lucy scowled.
Tim continued with a faint smile on his face. “Only the knee is too swollen for that to be the only problem. Upon examination, you conclude there is a possibility that the knee joint itself maybe be dislocated. Or there could be ligament damage. Or the cartilage is torn. Either way, the foot is cold to the touch and swelling. What do you do?”
Lucy’s scowl deepened. “I’d tell my boss to stop making things up and quit being stupid.”
Tim’s eyes narrowed. “What do you do?”
“Tim, really…”
“Oh my days, woman!” Jed groaned in frustration. “Stop being such a stupid dill and tell the bloke what he wants to hear.”
She turned to him. “Dill?”
“A stupid dill actually,” he repeated. “Means the same as drongo. You may think you’re the ant’s pants around here, being the only doctor and all, but even I know what the bloke wants to hear.”
Color filled her cheeks for a second. “I’d send them for an X-ray and MRI,” she said quietly. “It may need surgery. And if the foot is cold, there could be arterial damage or something blocking the blood flow.”
“Thank you,” Tim said firmly. “You leave with Jed. ASAP.”
Jed did a double take, throwing his hands up in horror. “Whoa, hang on a tick. I can’t take her. It’d be faster to get a chopper in here. That way she’d be in the city in a couple of hours. Three, at the most.”
Mani came in, his face downcast. “Generator is out. The blokes are fixing it.”
“That settles that,” Tim said. “No power for the radio.”
“Then I’ll give them a bell.” Jed pulled out his cell phone, glared at it and then shoved it back in his pocket. “Fudge and blasters, there’s no signal.”