by Amy Ruttan
Reagan and Kainan worked well together, just as they had always done. She knew what he was thinking before he had to ask her, and vice versa.
“Just like old times, eh?” she teased.
Kainan made a funny face. Before he could respond there was the wail of sirens. Ambulances were working their way through the snow. Orderlies were outside, working on shoveling a clear path as the first ambulance pulled up.
“Reagan and Kainan—you’re up!” Michael called over the commotion.
Reagan went outside, the bitter cold biting at her cheeks as the ambulance came to a stop. The doors opened and the paramedics jumped into action.
“Male, age forty-five, multiple injuries to the torso and abdomen. Glasgow coma scale of two on arrival.”
Reagan and Kainan helped the paramedic push the gurney through the snow and they took their patient to one of the trauma bays that were being used for priority patients. A man with multiple crush injuries to the torso and abdomen and a GCS of two was a priority.
Kainan signed off on the paramedics’ charts while Reagan began to go over the man’s ABCs. One pupil was blown. and she was worried that when he fell he’d hit his head hard and there might be a hematoma.
Kainan worked on the other side of her. He snapped his fingers to get her attention and signed, Free fluid in the lungs. I’m going to do a chest tube.
Reagan nodded. “Left pupil is blown. I want to get him down for a CT.”
“Chest tray,” Kainan said gruffly to the intern who was in the room with them, and he rolled his shoulders, wincing from the pain of exerting his voice. But he didn’t hesitate as he cut away the man’s shirt and examined his chest.
“Any lacerations from the debris that landed on him? I see blood,” Reagan said as she started a large-bore IV and hung painkillers and fluids.
Kainan held up two fingers.
Reagan counted at least four wounds to the man’s abdomen. There was also dark bruising under his skin. “He needs a CT scan as soon as you get that chest tube in.”
She cursed inwardly as she tried to picture how the debris had fallen on the patient and what organs it might have damaged. Because there was fluid in the man’s lungs she had no doubt that he was suffering a hemothorax, but what other damage had the debris caused?
“Here you are, Dr. Laskaris,” the intern said, handing the chest tube tray to Kainan.
Kainan nodded and went about listening and finding the best place to insert the chest tube. He quickly wiped the skin and then made his move.
The patient flexed in a decerebrate motion, arching his chest and his head, arms straight out, everything stiff in response to the chest tube being inserted.
As it did its job the patient’s vitals steadied. Kainan smiled and secured the tube and they readied the patient to go down for the CT scan. Reagan needed to see what she was dealing with before she went in there and tried to fix the damage that had been done.
Kainan moved beside her silently, anticipating her every move. Just like in Isla Hermosa.
They were as one.
And, though she’d always prided herself on being a lone wolf, she was glad he was here in this moment. That he was here with her now and that she didn’t have to explain her every move. He just knew.
And that thought scared her.
It scared her to think that she needed him when she had never needed anyone before.
Chapter Nine
“CAN YOU MOVE the retractor, please?” Reagan asked, and Kainan adjusted his hold on it.
Their patient had some head trauma, but nothing as serious as what was going on in his abdomen, because there were crush injuries and he was bleeding internally. The CT scan had shown her what damage had been done.
The spleen had been lacerated and was bleeding heavily. A kidney had been pierced, as well as his bowel, and the diaphragm, which was why his lungs had filled with blood. The heart was fine for now, as was the liver. Still, the bleeding needed to be controlled so he didn’t die before they had a chance to repair his injuries.
She was hours into surgery. They were still hanging blood, but she was getting ahead of the damage. Even though Kainan could not speak he knew what to do, and she didn’t often have to ask for his assistance. It was if he knew what her next step would be before she did.
They worked so well together. She’d forgotten how much she enjoyed working with him. Working with him to save lives.
The King of Isla Hermosa.
She shook her head, trying not to think about that fact. He was a surgeon too. He hadn’t been a king when they’d worked together, when he’d taken her in his arms.
He had just been Kainan.
Now he was King, and yet here he was helping save lives. How many world leaders would do the same? It was at this moment that she saw the man he’d been before—the man she’d known and cared for.
She watched him briefly as a resident worked on stitching, studying him over her surgical mask. Those kind eyes were looking down at the work the resident was doing with keen interest, and she couldn’t help but smile as she thought of him by her side, working with her as if nothing had changed.
It was nice, even though the situation was not. And her pulse quickened as she thought back to that kiss they’d shared, when Peter was in surgery for the ventricular device. His strong arms had comforted her, as had his kiss, and their connection had grounded her.
Kainan was her rock.
The realization shocked her, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. She had been taught not to rely on anyone. So when had she begun to rely on Kainan so much?
It made her stomach twist in a knot, because she had to be self-sufficient. She couldn’t rely on him, no matter how much she wanted to.
He was King of a foreign country and would eventually have to return to it. She couldn’t leave Canada—not until Peter had a new heart. She had to be careful not to let her heart do all her thinking, which was what was happening when she was around Kainan.
She had to start thinking logically. She had to be careful. Peter’s heart wasn’t the only one that was fragile—hers was too.
They had been working on this man for hours, but he was going to make it and that was the most important thing. After they’d finished up here they would have to scrub out and head back down to the emergency room and continue to work, to take the pressure off a bombarded trauma room.
On a tray across the operating room she could see her phone sitting there, silent, as a nurse monitored it.
Peter’s fine. And after this is all done you can hold him.
Just that simple thought sustained her. It kept her focused.
She finished the surgery and gave instructions to the scrub nurse and the intern for the patient’s postoperative care. Kainan followed her out of the operating room and they scrubbed out.
“Where to?” Kainan asked, and then winced, his throat paining him.
“Have you had your throat looked at by your otolaryngologist lately?”
Kainan sent her an exasperated expression. Of course.
“It’s just that I know if you use your voice more than you should it can cause problems. I would hate for you to risk your surgery.”
It’s already a risky surgery and there is a lot of scar tissue.
“Why have they waited so long?”
The surgeon wanted to wait until I was strong.
“And...?” Reagan asked, drying off her hands. “You’re stronger now.”
Kainan pursed his lips together. The surgery is coming, but there’s no guarantee it will work.
“I think it will,” she said.
Why do you think so?
“A king needs a voice,” she said.
I have you.
It was like a punch in her gut. “I won’t always be there to be your voice, Kainan.”
Why not? You could be my Queen. It’s a solution that would work for us both. We’d give Peter stability and you could assist me in my rule.
“I’m a surgeon, Kainan. Could I still practice medicine as Queen of Isla Hermosa?”
Kainan’s shoulders slumped and she had her answer. She felt bad for Kainan, because soon his surgical career would be over. He was a king, and when he returned to Isla Hermosa he wouldn’t be able to practice medicine any longer.
“You need to stop proposing to me, Kainan. You know my answer. It’s no.”
But the more time she spent with him the harder it was to say no. The dream of a happy family she’d always craved was tempting, but nothing worked out the way it was supposed to and she didn’t want to risk it.
He didn’t say anything, and didn’t look her in the eye. It was hard to disappoint him, but she couldn’t let her heart make this decision.
If her heart had had its way then she would have said yes the first time he’d asked her. The moment he’d walked back in her life.
You’re a fool, her heart told her, but she knew that it would never work. The only person she could rely on was herself.
They headed back down to the emergency room and it was still chaotic. As she surveyed the scene her gaze landed on a tall man with dark hair in one of the beds. Alone and clearly in pain.
“Isn’t that Andreas?” she asked.
Kainan spun around, pained as he rushed to his security guard’s side with Reagan at his heels. He had been hurt, but it looked like just a flesh wound.
“Andreas,” Reagan said sadly. “You were at the shopping center?”
“Dr. Cote...” He grimaced, and then his gaze fell on Kainan. “Your Majesty. I’m sorry.”
For what? Kainan signed.
Andreas leaned back against the pillows, his face with the grey tint of pain and blood loss.
Reagan pulled his chart. “Your leg was caught under a cement beam, but it’s not broken, and the laceration missed your femoral artery. That’s good.”
Andreas nodded. “It’s just a flesh wound. I was trying to protect a child from the falling debris.”
Kainan winced and bowed his head, gripping Andreas’s shoulder.
“You have lost a lot of blood,” she said, then bit her lip and stopped the resident who was dealing with Andreas. “Has blood been ordered? His platelet count is low.”
“Yes, but the blood bank doesn’t have any universal blood. There’s another blood bank across the city, and they’re trying to get through with the type of blood he needs, but the storm and this accident has depleted our reserves,” the resident said.
Dammit.
I will donate blood, Kainan signed. I’m Hermosian and I can donate for him.
The resident looked confused.
“He can donate,” Reagan said. “He’s a universal blood type and both of them are Hermosian. Ready a transfusion kit and get this man on plasma while I handle the donation.”
“Yes, Dr. Cote.” The resident ran away.
“We’ll be back, Andreas. Do you need anything for the pain?” Reagan asked.
Andreas shook his head. “No, Dr. Cote. I am fine. The child I helped lives, and that’s the main thing, but I cannot accept blood from my King.”
Reagan frowned and Kainan’s brow furrowed.
You will, Kainan said.
“Your Majesty, I can’t take your blood.”
It’s just blood, Kainan signed furiously. You will take it and that is a royal decree.
Andreas sighed and closed his eyes. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
Kainan pulled the drapes around Andreas’s bed. His face was like thunder. Andreas’s injury was obviously bothering him. It bothered Reagan too. She hated to see Andreas hurt again. When he’d been injured during the Hermosian uprising it had been because he’d pulled a younger soldier out of the line of fire.
It seemed bizarre that on the front lines of battle in a foreign country they had more blood than here in a vast city, and all because of a snowstorm which was hampering their ability to get to it. It was silly.
Kainan took a seat in an exam room just outside the emergency department. He pulled off his white lab coat and stuck out his arm.
The resident brought Reagan the kit she would need to get the blood donation from Kainan. Reagan began to ready everything while Kainan stared at the wall, still fuming.
“Are you all right?”
Kainan nodded, but he wouldn’t look at her.
“What’s wrong? Are you mad at Andreas?”
No, he signed. I’m angry at myself.
“Why? You had nothing to do with his injury.”
I sent him out to furnish my new apartment.
She raised her eyebrows as she wiped his arm with rubbing alcohol. “Your new apartment. I thought you were looking for a place for me and Peter?”
We found that too. They’re next to each other.
She raised an eyebrow. “How convenient.”
A small smile tugged at his lips. Peter is my son too, and I want to be close to him for as long as I can.
Right, because he would have to leave. There was an expiry date on his time in Canada.
“Sorry, of course you do.” Then she realized what he was saying. “You got apartments that are available now?”
Kainan nodded. With the right amount of money.
“Kainan, how much money?” She’d agreed to a new place, but she didn’t want him spending great sums of money on her.
There is no mortgage to worry about, Reagan. You can raise Peter there comfortably. And when I’m in Toronto I can be close to him.
Reagan cursed under her breath. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
He’s my son too. I just want him to be comfortable. And I want to take care of you.
“Kainan, I have to be self-sufficient. I can’t rely on you. When you leave it will just be me and Peter.”
Kainan didn’t respond. He set his jaw firmly in that stubborn way of his and looked away from her.
“So, when are the movers coming for my stuff—or have you arranged that too?” she asked sarcastically.
He grinned and she groaned.
“I’m probably already moved in, aren’t I?”
In the process.
She shook her head and then tied the tourniquet around his arm. “Make a fist—and no more signing.”
Kainan rolled his eyes, but that smug grin was still on his face.
She got the blood transfusion started and then removed the tourniquet. Kainan was a pro at this.
“It’s not your fault for sending him to that shopping center, Kainan. A roof collapsed. No one is at fault. Things happen.”
Kainan didn’t say anything. He just closed his eyes and looked at the ceiling. She couldn’t blame him. One of the things that bothered her about medicine was blood donation. It was good to do it, but she’d got a bit queasy the couple of times she had donated over the years.
“What you’re doing for Andreas is good,” she said. “You’re a good king to your people. You may think you need a voice, but you don’t. Your actions speak louder than your words ever will.”
He raised his head and looked at her then, those dark eyes twinkling, and he mouthed the words thank you before closing his eyes and staring back up at the ceiling.
* * *
Kainan stood and watched as Andreas received his blood transfusion. After he’d donated he’d felt a bit dizzy, and Reagan had got him some orange juice and let him rest before she’d been called away by a resident.
When Kainan had felt better he’d headed back to the emergency room and gone to check on Andreas, who had already been hooked up to an intravenous and receiving Kainan’s donation.
The color was returning to his friend’s cheeks now.
Kainan still felt incredible guilty that Andreas had been put in harm’s way. Twice.
He didn’t like putting people’s lives at risk. He was a surgeon. He saved lives.
You’re no longer a surgeon, though.
And that thought sobered him. He was King, and a country full of lives depended on him. His life was no longer his.
Still, there was a part of him that didn’t want to be King. Being back in the operating room and working with Reagan had been amazing. He’d forgotten what it was like to save a life. He hadn’t practiced surgery since the day Reagan had left Isla Hermosa.
He missed it.
Missed the thrill of it all.
Still, if he died on the operating table with a surgeon trying to save his voice then there would be no monarchy for Isla Hermosa. Peter was too young to be King and he was the last of his line.
Unless you appoint a regent to take Peter’s place. An illegitimate king can still rule when he comes of age, as long as he’s claimed, in writing, by the current King.
Reagan came in and glanced at Kainan in the seat next to Andreas’s bedside. Andreas was still sleeping.
“You okay?” she asked.
Tired, but I will live.
“So will Andreas. Don’t worry—your blood helped.”
I know. Even if he didn’t want it.
“I don’t get that.”
Because I’m King and...
“And?” she asked.
“It’s not right,” Andreas repeated, still in delirium.
Kainan chuckled softly as he looked at Andreas. He’s my half brother.
Reagan’s eyes widened. “Your half brother?”
Yes, though not legitimate. Andreas thinks of his adoptive father as his real father, not the late King. His adoptive father claimed him as his own, which is why Andreas could never be in the line of succession. He was luckier than me.
“Luckier? Why?”
He was loved and doted on. He had freedom. I did not. Kainan scrubbed a hand over his face. I envied him for so many years.
“Do you still?”
He looked up at her. If he’d had Andreas’s life he probably wouldn’t be a surgeon, and he wouldn’t have met Reagan. For the first time he didn’t envy Andreas’s different upbringing.