by Fiona Lowe
‘I’m certain the lower lobe of her lung has collapsed but at the moment her body’s compensating. I’m not rushing into a needle thoracentesis without X-ray guidance unless I have to.’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘It was such a brutal attack. I can’t believe a rooster’s beak could cause such damage.’
‘It wouldn’t have been the beak. It was the spur on the foot. They’re viciously sharp.’
He raised his brows. ‘You seem to know a bit about poultry.’
She shrugged. ‘Born and raised a country girl. What about you?’
‘City boy. Grew up on the Adelaide beaches.’
She laughed. ‘Linton would say that Adelaide and city was an oxymoron.’
Baden raised his brows. ‘From Sydney, is he?’ He chuckled. ‘I’ll have you know that peak hour lasts half an hour.’
His rich laugh relaxed her. ‘Peak hour in Warragurra is Saturday night when the station hands drive into town. Even from Adelaide it’s a big leap.’ She checked Susie’s pulse. ‘What brought you here?’
‘It was something I’d talked about doing for a long time.’ He had a far-away look in his eyes as if he was recalling memories.
She jotted down the volume of the new bag of IV fluid that she had just attached to Susie’s drip. ‘And suddenly the time seemed right?’
His relaxed demeanour instantly vanished. ‘Something like that.’ His voice developed an edge to it, a tone she’d not heard before.
Before she could wonder too much about what that might mean, Susie started coughing. Kate immediately aspirated her mouth but the child continued to gasp, her lips turning blue.
‘She’s obstructing!’ She snapped opened the laryngoscope, the tiny light bulb glowing white. ‘Intubation?’
‘What’s happening?’ Mary’s petrified voice sounded from her seat at the front of the plane.
‘We have to put a tube in Susie’s throat so she can breathe.’ Kate wanted to go and hug the distraught mother but all her attention was needed for Susie.
Mary’s gasp of horror echoed around the plane.
Baden accepted the laryngoscope, a grim expression on his face. ‘I doubt I’ll be able to pass the tube through the swelling.’ He tried inserting the ’scope but a moment later shook his head. ‘No go.’
Kate’s stomach dropped and she swung into emergency action. ‘Right, then. Tracheostomy it is.’ She opened the paediatric emergency cricothyroidotomy kit, which she’d had ready since they’d boarded the flight.
Susie’s small chest struggled to rise and fall, each breath more torturous than the last.
Baden snapped on gloves and grabbed the scalpel.
A sharp incessant beeping from the monitor hammered the air as Susie’s oxygen saturation levels started to fall to dangerously low levels. Each beep told them Susie was edging closer to cardiac arrest.
‘Save my daughter, please!’
Mary’s tortured plea ripped through Kate. She quickly laid the semi-conscious child on her back and extended her neck.
Baden threw her a look, his eyes dark with worry. This procedure on a child was fraught with danger but they had no choice. With a remarkably steady hand he gently palpated Susie’s neck, counting down the rings of cartilage until he found the correct position. He made a quick, clean cut.
Kate immediately cleared the area of blood with a gauze pad. She pulled the sterile packaging of the endotracheal tube halfway down, exposing the top of the tube and insertion trocar.
Baden juggled the forceps and then grabbed the tube, sliding it into place.
Kate swiftly attached the oxygen. A moment later the monitor stopped screaming as Susie’s oxygen level rose. A sigh shuddered out of Kate’s lungs as she injected normal saline into the balloon of the ET tube to hold it in place.
Baden raised his head from his patient and turned toward Mary. ‘We’ve bypassed the blockage and she’s breathing more easily now.’
Mary slumped. ‘Oh, thank you, Baden. Kate. I was so scared that she might…’
Baden nodded. ‘She’ll probably have to go to Theatre when we arrive in Adelaide to repair her lung and trachea, and when the swelling has subsided, this tube can come out.’
He turned back to Kate and spoke under his breath. ‘So much for a quiet first day back at work for you. Nothing like an emergency to pump the adrenaline around.’ He stripped off his gloves. ‘Thanks, Kate. That was excellent work.’ His lips curved upward in a friendly smile. ‘It’s good to have you on board.’
‘Thanks. It’s good to be back.’ Delicious, simmering warmth rolled through her, quickly overtaken by sheer relief. She’d managed to drive away his doubts, the ones that had shone so brightly that morning in his amazing eyes.
Her plan had worked. She’d shown him she knew what she was about, that her medicine was sound. She’d managed to stay one stop ahead of him during the emergency and at times their anticipation of each other’s needs had been almost spooky.
For the first time all day she relaxed. Team Four would be OK. Work would again be the safe sanctuary it had always been—reliable and familiar. No surprises.
Smiling to herself, she adjusted Susie’s oxygen and started to dress her lacerations with non-stick gauze.
‘Prepare for landing.’ Glen’s command sounded in her ears and with one final check of Susie she took her seat, snapping her harness firmly around her.
The paediatric team met them at the airport in Adelaide and within minutes Susie and Mary were on their way to hospital and the ICU unit.
As always happened after a high-powered emergency, Kate’s legs began to wobble. Coffee. She needed coffee. The refrigerated air of the airport terminal hit her the moment she stepped inside. She ordered three coffees to go and some giant cookies so heavily laden with chocolate chips you could hardly see the actual cookie base. Juggling the capped coffees and her bag of treats, she headed back toward the plane. Glen usually liked to get back in the air as soon as possible.
As she approached she saw Baden striding back and forth across the tarmac, his mobile phone glued to his ear and his other hand rubbing his neck. Agitation rolled off him in waves—a total contrast to the cool and level-headed doctor she’d just worked with in an emergency.
He snapped the phone shut just as she stopped beside him. She passed him his coffee.
‘Oh, thanks.’ He accepted the coffee with a distracted air.
‘Let’s move under the wing—at least there’s shade there.’ She offered him a cookie as they took the five steps into the shadow of the plane. ‘Is there a problem?’
He blew out a breath. ‘Sasha is refusing to go to after-school care. She’s never done this before, she’s always been happy to go. I don’t know why she had to pull this stunt today, the one day in weeks I’ve been delayed.’
Confusion befuddled her brain. ‘Why is the school ringing you?’
He shot her a look of incredulity that screamed she was an imbecile. ‘Because I’m her father!’
His frustration hit her in the chest like a ball on the full, almost making her stagger. Rattled, she chose her words carefully. ‘Yes, I understand that, but you’re in Adelaide and your wife’s in Warragurra. Surely she can get away from work for half an hour to talk to Sasha?’
His hand tightened on the cookie, sending crumbs tumbling toward the ground. ‘I don’t have a wife. It’s just Sasha and me.’ His phone rang loudly and he spun away to answer it.
I don’t have a wife. He’d spoken the words softly but they boomed in Kate’s head as if she were standing in front of a 500-watt concert speaker. The five small words tangled in her brain like knotted fishing wire, refusing to straighten out and make sense.
He was a single parent.
Questions surged through her, desperate for answers, but Baden had his back to her, his entire being focussed on the phone call.
She watched him end his call and consult with Glen, his dark curly hair, flecked with grey, moving in the wind. Then he tilted his head back, downing his
coffee in two gulps, his Adam’s apple moving convulsively against his taut neck. Crushing the empty cup in his strong hand, he swung around, his free arm beckoning her forward.
As she drew up beside him he stood back to allow her entry to the plane’s steps. ‘Glen’s ready to leave, so after you…’ His eyes sparkled as he gave her a resigned smile. A Pirate smile. Delicious and dangerous.
Her blood rushed to her feet as realisation hit her. He’s not married. Together they were Team Four. They had to work side by side every day. The attraction she’d easily shrugged off yesterday and earlier today suddenly surged through her like water through a narrow gorge—powerful and strong.
The safe sanctuary that was work, the sanctuary she so desperately needed, vaporised before her eyes.
Baden stacked the dishwasher, his thoughts not on the china but on trying to come up with the best approach to handle Sasha’s rebellion. She’d made herself scarce, knowing he wasn’t thrilled with her behaviour. He could see her out the window, jumping on the trampoline, her long brown hair streaming out behind her.
It’s chestnut, like Kate’s. The unexpected thought thudded into him, startling him.
Kate had worked alongside him today as if she’d done it every day for a year. Calm, experienced and knowledgeable, she got the job done. Just like Emily. Except Emily didn’t wear a perfume that conjured up hot tropical nights and sinful pleasures.
He slammed the dishwasher closed. What was he doing, thinking of Kate, when his concentration should be firmly on Sasha? Guilt niggled at him. He’d promised Annie that Sasha would always be his top priority. Hell, it was no hardship. He adored his daughter. But he missed sharing the parenting journey.
Sasha had finished on the trampoline and was lying in the hammock, which was permanently slung between two veranda posts. It had been a much-adored Christmas present and had saved him from buying the requested pink mobile phone, which he planned to put off for as long as possible.
He pushed the fly-wire screen door open and walked toward her. ‘I thought you might like an ice cream.’
Sasha looked up and swung her legs over the side of the hammock, taking the proffered confectionary. ‘Cool. I didn’t know we had any of these left.’
‘I went shopping.’ He sat down next to her, his weight sending the hammock swinging wildly, causing Sasha to fall onto him.
‘Da-ad,’ she rebuked him, but stayed snuggled up next to him, the back of her head resting on his chest. Ice cream dribbled down her chin.
His heart lurched. In so many ways she was still his little girl, but for how long? The signs of impending puberty were beginning to shout. ‘Sash, why did you give Mrs Davidson such a hard time this afternoon?’
She licked her ice cream. ‘I didn’t want to go to after-school care.’
‘That bit I understand. It’s why you didn’t want to go that’s bothering me.’
‘It’s for babies.’ A belligerent tone crept into her voice.
He breathed in and focussed on keeping his words neutral and even. ‘It’s for all kids from prep to grade six.’
‘But I’m twelve and can look after myself after school.’
He gave an internal sigh. ‘We’ve had this discussion before, Sash, and because work is sometimes unpredictable and I occasionally have to transport patients to Broken Hill, Dubbo or Adelaide, I need to know that you’re safe.’
‘But I’d be safe here.’ She turned, her earnest green eyes imploring him to understand. ‘Besides, Erin isn’t going any more. Her mum stopped working and she’s getting to do cool stuff, like going to Guides on Wednesdays and swimming on Fridays.’
He ran his hand through his hair. Erin Baxter and Sasha were inseparable friends. Without Erin’s company, after-school care would seem like jail. All the other children who attended were in the junior classes at the school. ‘Why didn’t you tell me Erin wasn’t there?’
She shrugged. ‘You would have said I still had to go and I hate it without her. There’s no one to hang out with. I wish that…I wish I could just come home after school.’
Her unspoken words hovered around them both, pulling at him, twisting his guilt. Before Annie’s death Sasha had always been able to come home straight after school.
‘I’m sorry I’m not here after school and I’m sorry Mum’s not here.’ He hugged her tight. ‘What if I talk to Erin’s mum and ask if she would mind taking you to swimming, too? I have Wednesday afternoons in the office so if we find out what time Guides is on, perhaps I can take you. That only leaves three days of after-school care. Deal?’
Her eyes danced with joy. ‘Deal. Thanks, Dad.’
He swung his legs into the hammock and lay down next to her. ‘You’re welcome, sweetheart.’ Another crisis solved. Work was uncomplicated and straightforward compared to this parenting gig.
Sasha cuddled in closer now her ice cream was finished. ‘Did Emily have purple hair today?’ She’d always been impressed by Emily’s extremely short rainbow-coloured hair.
He stretched out, enjoying the companionable time with his daughter. ‘Actually, Emily isn’t working with me at the moment. Do you remember that lady we met when we were buying your new green top? Well, it turns out she’s my flight nurse now.’
‘Awesome. She had the best smile and a gorgeous skirt.’ Sasha propped herself up with one elbow resting on his chest. Her serious gaze searched his face. ‘What’s she like?’
‘She’s very good at her job.’
‘Yeah, but do you like her?’ Hope crossed her face.
Unlike adults, kids always cut to the chase, but even so Sasha’s unexpected wishful look, combined with the question hit him hard in the chest. To a twelve-year-old, like was serious stuff.
Did he like Kate? The image of luminous brown eyes, as warm as melted chocolate, filled his head. A streak of unexpected longing shot through him.
Disloyalty followed closely, jagged and sharp.
He sat up abruptly, setting the hammock swinging wildly. He wasn’t up to discussing this with Sasha when his reaction to Kate confused the hell out of him. He rolled out of the hammock and stretched his arms down for her. ‘Time for bed.’
‘Da-ad.’
He hauled her out of the hammock. ‘Come on, hop it. Clean your teeth and get into bed. Otherwise you’ll never get Anne of Green Gables finished.’
The promise of reading time had Sasha dashing for the door, her question about Kate forgotten.
A long breath shuddered out of his lungs. If only he could find Kate that easy to forget.
CHAPTER THREE
‘SO is everyone clear on the rosters?’ Jen’s right hand rested firmly on her hip as she looked expectantly at the staff. ‘Team Four, your roster has changed a lot so you must make sure you have the most up-to-date version.’ She narrowed her gaze at Baden. ‘The email system is back online and I expect you to check it.’ Jen ran a tight ship, holding together a staff of twenty strong personalities.
Everyone nodded and those brave enough even mumbled, ‘Yes, Jen.’
‘Right, then, thanks for your attention.’ Jen tapped a pile of brightly coloured files. ‘Please collect a folder on the way out.’
Baden winked at Kate. ‘We’d better check our emails.’
‘I think that line was directed solely at you. I’ve still got brownie points up my sleeve.’ She couldn’t resist teasing him. ‘After all, it wasn’t me who drove out to Opal Ridge for a clinic on the wrong day.’
A sheepish grin crossed his face. ‘Lucky for me old Hughie chose that day to have a hypo so it wasn’t a complete waste of time. Now he’s completely up to speed with his new glucometer.’ He faked a serious expression, the corners of his eyes crinkling with humour. ‘Patient education is a very important part of our work, Sister Lawson.’
Laughter rolled through her at his self-deprecating humour, bringing a joy that had faded from her life. ‘Is that right, Doctor? I had no idea.’
His laughter joined hers and quickly raced to his eyes,
which sparkled like sunshine on water. His work-issue blue shirt intensified the vivid blue of his eyes and enhanced his tanned face. Not to mention the way his chest filled the shirt, making the fabric sit flat against what she imagined was solid muscle.
Her stomach flipped as heat rolled thorough her. Stop it now. She crossed her legs, trying to halt the tingling sensations that built up inside her.
It was too depressing to be twenty-nine and reacting like a sixteen-year-old. She was too old for a hormone crush. Too world-weary to have stars in her eyes and too bruised to ever think romance was for her. But her body wasn’t listening.
It didn’t seem to matter that she’d spoken sternly to herself, that she’d instructed her body not to react and that she’d willed herself to be impervious to eyes that sparkled with every shade of blue. It took one smile and her body quivered in anticipation.
She stood up and joined the queue behind Linton and Emily to collect the folder as instructed.
‘So, Doc, you thought you’d do a spot of opal fossicking the other day.’ Emily immediately teased Baden about his mistake.
‘Yeah, and I found one this big.’ He held his hands a shoulder width apart. ‘But it got away when Hughie hypo’d.’
Kate let the laughter and camaraderie wash over her, savouring it. Wednesday afternoon meant staff meeting. All the teams were back in the office after morning clinics to attend. They took it in turns being the standby emergency team, but it wasn’t very often that there was a Wednesday afternoon emergency. It was almost as if the locals knew not to get sick after 1:00 p.m. If they did get a callout it was usually from tourists who’d got themselves into a spot of bother.
With the exception of the staff meeting, Wednesday was pretty much a Baden-free day. Kate ran an early well-women’s clinic in the morning before returning to base for the afternoon.
It had been a relief to work on her own this morning, giving her over-developed radar of Baden a rest. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy working with him. She did. She’d loved her first two days with him. He was on the ball medically, good-humoured most of the time, and he related really well to the patients. But this overwhelming attraction that whizzed through her whenever she was near him was wearing her out.