“But I’ll be here to instruct her.” Brad spoke up.
“Just save him,” the woman begged with tears in her voice.
“All right. Is he allergic to any drugs?”
“Not that we know of,” she answered.
As Mallory washed her hands and pulled on surgical gloves, she barked out orders. “You,” she said to the mother, “take those white cloths and wrap them snugly around Brad’s hands. Be careful, his burns are second degree and he’s in terrible pain. Even if he doesn’t look it.”
The woman moved quickly to follow her instructions.
“What’s the boy’s name?”
“Chad. Chad Clarke.”
Mallory pulled a needle and a vial from her bag. “What’s that for?” Brad asked.
“Pain,” she answered.
“You’re going to need me alert.”
She put them away again, knowing that was true. She turned to the father. “I’ll take over here. I need you to get on the phone and make sure that medevac knows this is critical.” She took a quick breath, then asked more softly, “Can you do that?” He nodded. “Do you know Chad’s blood type?”
“Yes, O positive.”
“Good. Tell the medevac team we’ll need two units.”
She shifted positions with him. After he left the room, Mallory removed the bloody cloth.
Brad came to her side after asking the mother to leave them and close the door. Reluctantly she did so. Then he whispered to Mallory what she should do. First she had to stop the bleeding. She had no blood to give the child to replace what he was losing.
Flying glass must have nicked an artery. She couldn’t see for all the blood.
“Clamps are in the drawer.”
Mallory looked down and found a drawer. Brad moved to open it.
“No,” she said, worried about his hands.
“You’re sterile,” he reminded her, and pulled the drawer open. Mallory picked up surgical scissors and cut the cloths away. She started a saline IV from the emergency kit she carried with her. Brad had a general anesthetic, which she administered to keep the child from awakening. Then, following Brad’s instructions, she started.
“You’ve done this before.”
“The setting was different.”
“Don’t focus on the setting. Think about the map.” He meant the area of the body she was working on. No other part existed unless it affected this part.
“How’s his breathing?”
“Good. Go on.”
Mallory worked carefully, finding the nick. The boy was lucky. The artery hadn’t been severed, but was cut deeply. She clamped it and closed it. Brad talked to her every step of the way. He kept his voice even, unhurried and without tension. She still felt tension in everything she did. Her hands felt awkward and large working on the small artery. But Brad kept repeating that she was doing fine, that the child was in good hands and she would pull him through.
When he finally said they were done and she could close, she heard the rotors of a helicopter. Mallory ignored them and concentrated on her task. The child’s color concerned her. He was paler than he should be. They had no monitors to give the boy’s blood pressure readings, no anesthesiologist to keep track of the anesthetic. Mallory didn’t like the conditions.
The medics arrived just as she finished.
She and Brad gave instructions to the flying doctors who would take the child to the closest hospital and continue treatment. One insisted on looking at Brad’s hands and administered care to him. He refused to go to the hospital with them. The parents thanked them profusely, then got on board the helicopter.
Mallory sat down when all was finished. She needed to clean the room and dispose of the waste, but she was tired. Exhausted.
“You did fine, Mallory. If you hadn’t been here that boy would have died.”
Mallory got up and headed for the other room.
“Where are you going?”
“To clean up. We can’t leave the place like that. You can’t do it, and I have to get back to Philadelphia tonight.”
“You could stay here.”
Mallory’s heart practically jumped out of her chest, urging her to accept the invitation. But her brain was in control and it told her to protect herself. If she was going to get through this heartache she had to cut the cord at the source.
“I can’t,” she said. She didn’t elaborate. And she hoped he wouldn’t ask.
“I could use your hands.” He held up his, which were now completely covered in white gauze. “I can’t even get undressed with these on.” He’d been given a painkiller and Mallory could see it was affecting his speech and his mind. He was flirting with her openly, something he’d never done.
“I suppose I could drive you to the hospital. You really ought to see a doctor, anyway.”
“See a doctor,” he laughed. “I am a doctor.”
“You’d better lie down,” she advised. Mallory pushed him down on the sofa and left him there to sleep, while she cleaned the room. It took her nearly an hour to dispose of all the waste and disinfect everything. Cleaning gave her a new respect for the crews who came in after an operation and made a room ready for the next one.
Brad was sound asleep when she returned. The sedative had taken effect, otherwise he would be in excruciating pain. Mallory needed to get him to the hospital. When the pain medication wore off he would need additional care.
For a long moment she gazed at him. He looked like such a little boy in sleep. He didn’t have the weight of the world on his shoulders, and his eyes weren’t hooded or closed. She sat next to him, feeling the warmth of his hip next to hers. She touched his forehead and ran her hand down his cheek.
This was the man she loved. The one who knew her secrets and with whom she was willing to share more. But he was also leaving her in just a few weeks.
Like a cloud moving in over the mountains, tears filled her eyes, distorting her vision.
“Dr. Russell.”
Mallory jumped at the sound of her name. She sat up with a start and rubbed her face. Disoriented, she looked around. Dr. Carter stood in front of the chair where she’d fallen asleep.
“What is it?”
“I’m afraid he’s lapsed into a coma.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, knowing Dr. Carter was the best there was.
“I’m sure.”
Brad hadn’t awakened when she’d tried to get him to her truck. He was heavy, but she’d managed to get him in the seat and buckled in. His skin had turned red and blotchy, symptoms Mallory recognized as an allergic reaction. He was reacting to the medication he’d been given.
With her heart in her throat she’d called 9-1-1 and rushed him to the hospital. The staff had taken over then, giving him whatever was needed. Mallory was pushed back, relegated to the secondary role of giving information on what had happened. What he had taken and how long ago.
“Do you think he’ll…”
“Doctor, you know there’s no way to tell in these cases. He’s a strong man, healthy and in good physical condition. He’s got those things going for him. How long he remains in this state would only be a guess.” Dr. Carter was a compassionate man. His voice was caring and concerned.
“May I see him?”
He nodded.
Mallory got up. Brad’s room was just down the hall from where she’d been waiting. She went in. The light over the bed was the only illumination. Because of his severe burns, Mallory couldn’t take his hand the way she often did with coma victims. Nor did she know what to say to him.
“Brad, I’m so sorry,” she finally murmured. “This is my fault. I didn’t notice you were distressed. I thought you were just sleeping.” Her voice cracked, and when she touched his arm, he was totally unresponsive. Mallory wasn’t used to him being so still, so inert. Whenever she touched him, he always responded in some way.
“Brad, you have to wake up.” Mallory took a seat next to the bed. She kept hold of Brad’s arm, hugging it b
etween her hands. “There’s so much I need to tell you. I know you’re leaving to go back to Texas, but I have to tell you I’m in love with you.” She stopped, taking a breath and pushing back tears that threatened to fall from her eyes.
She went on with a less emotional topic, talking about the pediatrics ward. She told him he needed to wake up because the shelter needed him. The kids he pulled off the streets needed him and she needed him. She kept at it for hours, until a nurse came in and told her she had to get some sleep herself or she’d be no good for her own patients.
Mallory left and went home. The house felt more silent tonight than it had in previous nights without Brad being there. She looked at the phone and thought of calling the hospital to check on Brad’s condition. But she’d only left there half an hour ago. If anything had changed she was sure someone would notify her.
There was one call she needed to make. She had to phone Brad’s brother Owen and the rest of the Clayton family.
Rosa was the first to arrive, followed by Owen, Digger, Dean and Luanne. The entire family descended on the hospital. Mallory explained what had happened, and they took turns staying with him. All day and all night there was someone in Brad’s room.
Mallory couldn’t help resenting them for usurping her place. She wanted to sit with Brad, touch his arm and talk to him, but she couldn’t.
Brad wasn’t in the coma wing. His condition wasn’t long-term, at least not yet. And his family was there. He didn’t fit her profile of people who had no one—the patients she talked back to life. Brad had that kind of support. He had his family, people who loved him. Mallory tried to convince herself that everything that could be done for him was being done, but it wasn’t working. She loved him, too, and wanted to be there, talking to him, bringing him back to her.
On the third night she ran into Rosa coming out of the room. Brad’s sister looked tired and run-down, nearly bumping into the wall as the door closed behind her.
“Rosa, are you all right?”
She turned and recognized Mallory. “Hello,” she said. “I was just going to get some coffee. Want to join me?”
“You don’t need coffee. You need sleep,” Mallory answered, but she walked with Brad’s sister toward the cafeteria.
“I tried. I just can’t seem to sleep.” Rosa pushed her hair back. “It’s so unfair, Mallory. He spends twenty years trying to find his birth mother and then this happens. Who knew he was allergic to a drug?”
“It’s no one’s fault,” Mallory murmured comfortingly. “And he’ll recover.”
Rosa turned and gripped her arm. “Are you sure?”
“With you all here talking to him constantly and the support he’s getting, I’m certain of it.” Mallory prayed she was right. Not all her coma patients pulled through. Even some that were visited regularly by family and friends were still in comas, but Brad was different. Brad was hers.
“Could we sit down a moment?” Rosa said when they’d gone through the line and had cups of coffee in their hands.
“Sure.” Mallory took a seat at a nearby table and sipped her coffee.
“Are you in love with him?”
Mallory managed to avoid choking. It was the last question she’d expected Rosa to ask. And she didn’t know how to answer it. She was in love with Brad; of that she had no doubt. But she hadn’t told Brad and she didn’t know if he loved her. Should she tell his sister?
“I saw it in your eyes that day I came. When you two were in Texas it was obvious to all of us. Maybe Brad hasn’t seen it yet. He’s such a blockhead.”
Mallory laughed. She hadn’t laughed in days and the release felt good.
“So answer me,” Rosa demanded.
“Where is this going?” Mallory hedged.
“If the doctors tell us they think he’s going to be in this state for a long time, we’re planning to move him to a hospital in Dallas.”
A lightning bolt of pain shot through Mallory. Had she no control? She’d thought the worse that could happen would be to have him moved to the coma wing.
“He was leaving, anyway,” Mallory said. She was amazed her voice sounded so calm. “He’d already resigned from the hospital and planned to return to Dallas at the end of the month. Whether I’m in love with him or not makes no difference.”
“It’s a defense, Mallory.”
“What?”
“Brad feels everyone he ever loved left him. He’s leaving so he won’t be hurt.”
Mallory thought a moment before answering. “Even if that is part of his reason for leaving, I can’t change it.”
“So you’re just going to let him go without a fight?”
“Rosa, what do you want me to do?”
“Tell him how you feel.”
“What difference could it make? If he had the same feelings for me, would he have resigned without even speaking to me about it?”
Rosa looked into her coffee cup.
“You know he would,” Mallory continued. “He might be fighting his feelings, but if he is, I can’t make him love me if he doesn’t want to.”
Rosa nodded and Mallory’s heart sank even lower. Even so, she murmured, “Would you mind if I sit with him for a few minutes?”
Mallory left Rosa nursing her coffee. She didn’t know how long she had. Any one of the family could show up to relieve Rosa at any time. His room was bright and filled with flowers, yet he lay as still as he had for the last few days.
She approached him slowly. Taking the chair where she’d sat the first night, she gently grasped his bandaged hand and held it to her cheek. She hadn’t slept much in the last three days, either. She laughed, thinking Brad was sleeping for the both of them.
“Brad, I know you can hear my voice. You might not understand the words, but I’m going to say them anyway. This may be the last time I get to talk to you alone.” Her voice cracked. She’d never been this attached to any of her coma patients. “I love you. I never thought I wanted to marry and have children, but I do. I want to marry you. I want us to have children together.”
Tears gathered in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “I know you don’t believe women have staying power where you’re concerned. Rosa told me everyone you loved left you. I’m not like the others, Brad. I can’t predict the future, but I promise you, I’ll love you forever.”
Mallory put her head down on the white sheet and wept. “I need you, Brad. And you need me. Please wake up. Please come back.”
She stayed like that, holding his hand, her tears wetting the sheet, until she heard the door open. Mallory lifted her head, using her fingertips to wipe away the tears. She stood and turned to Rosa.
“There’s no change,” she said, as if she were only his doctor reporting on his progress.
The two women passed each other, both knowing this was goodbye. It didn’t matter if Brad woke up tomorrow or if he never woke up. He wouldn’t stay with Mallory. And there was nothing she could do about it, except get used to the idea.
Chapter Twelve
Sheer exhaustion had Mallory asleep the moment she reached her bed. Days had passed since she’d talked to Brad, and his condition was no different. She hadn’t been able to sleep or eat, and the nurses were beginning to comment on how tired she looked.
The ringing telephone woke her. It was dark and she was disoriented. Her head was heavy and her mind groggy. What time was it? she wondered. The digital clock showed it was after midnight.
“Dr. Russell,” she said into the receiver.
“Brad woke up.” Rosa’s voice was unmistakable. She was greatly excited, shouting into the phone. Mallory’s heart thudded, then hammered against her rib cage. Her breath came in short gasps, so fast that she thought she might hyperventilate. She concentrated on controlling it.
“Are you still there?” Rosa asked.
“Yes, I’m here.” Mallory didn’t know what to say. “Is he…is he all right? Has Dr. Carter seen him?”
“He left a few minutes ago. He said from what
he can tell Brad should recover completely.”
That’s the way comas worked, Mallory thought. No one knew why they happened. There was speculation that they could be a healing process, an instinctual function that kicked in when the body needed to repair itself, shutting everything down until the process was complete. Only sometimes it never was and it claimed the victim. Thankfully, Brad wasn’t one of them.
“I’m glad,” Mallory told her. “Your family must be overjoyed.”
“We are. Everyone’s on their way over. Aren’t you coming?”
Mallory tried to speak, but words didn’t come out easily. “Brad and I…have said our goodbyes. Saying them again would be pointless.”
“You know, Mallory, there comes a time when you have to fight for what you want.”
Rosa hung up then. Mallory dropped the phone back in the cradle and slumped against the headboard.
“Brad is awake.” She repeated it over and over, through the hands that covered her face, through the tears that ran down her cheeks. “He’s awake.”
Mallory opened the door and entered her kitchen. She dragged herself through her days, amazed that she could function as a doctor with the way her heart felt. Brad was gone. It was amazing how fast patients were sent home from the hospital. Three days after waking up he was released, and left for Texas with Owen almost immediately. Mallory hadn’t seen him at all.
She put on water for tea. She lived these days on tea and coffee. She stared at the kettle, watching the spout as if she could predict when the steam would come out.
Her mind went back to Brad. She’d avoided his room at the hospital. Knowing he was going to recover was a relief. Seeing him again would only break her heart further.
She was glad there was no longer any chance of running into him during her working hours. Mallory wondered how long it would be before the pain in her heart went away.
“Mallory.”
She jumped and turned around, a scream coming from her throat. Then she saw him.
“Brad, what are you doing here? You scared me to death.” She put her hand to her chest where her heart was beating double-time. Brad held up her key.
Love on Call Page 18