Chapter Seventeen
D amn it all to hell.
Mav shook loose the cobwebs of passion from his brain as he quickly changed gears to devise a rescue plan. One look at Lee’s swollen lips and wide eyes sent another wave of lust that turned his knees to jelly.
He had a job to do. Respond to the injured person on the trail. No time to deal with feelings for the woman sitting two feet away from him. No time to consider that depending on the outcome of the accident he might be looking at the end of his business. No time for anything other than the task in front of him.
Lee stood, hands out. “I can help. What do you need?”
You .
He scrubbed his face.
He couldn’t think of any way a date could turn out worse than today. “You don’t have to do this. Head on home.”
“I’m helping.” She popped her hands on her hips. “Hippocratic oath and all.”
In spite of the situation, Mav smiled. He loved that she was willing to jump in, no matter the situation. “Put on all of your gear.” They walked to the entryway.
In silence punctuated by grunts while they bent down to shimmy into winter clothing and shove feet into boots, they were ready in minutes. His mind spun out logistics and various scenarios at lightning speed as he muttered curses.
Location. About four miles out. The guests had been heading back to the lodge when the accident occurred.
Local EMS or search and rescue assist. Not likely or timely due to location.
Access. He scanned the parking area. Even though the machines could carry two people apiece, the six guests had taken all six machines.
Transport. He prayed his team would be ready to pull for him. “Kenai, here, girl.” She trotted over, tail wagging, and stood still as he put on her pink harness.
As they exited the house, he grabbed the other harnesses and bag of booties hanging in the entryway. He checked his watch. 2:35 p.m. Another few hours of light. He stepped back in and retrieved two headlamps hanging on pegs, handing one to Lee.
The wind hit him full blast, driving thin gusts of snow in icy stings on his exposed skin. Lee yanked the neck gaiter up over her nose, pulled the coat’s hood over her beanie, shoved on her sunglasses, and zipped everything up. No exposed skin. Good.
He raced to his truck to retrieve the spare EMS kit he kept there, then caught up to Lee and Kenai at the kennel area. The dogs yapped and howled, picking up on the energy.
“Can you put their booties on?” he shouted over the wind. If the wind kept up, the weather could change into a blizzard and the potential for zero visibility. A deadly situation. He had to trust his dogs to get them out and back in one piece.
“Got it.” She knelt and started working on the nearest dog.
Mav dropped the bag and harnesses and hurried to the shed. Inside, the howl of the wind dropped. His ears rang. On the wall nearby he took down an old wooden backboard with worn straps he’d used in the past when he taught wilderness first aid courses. That would do.
The shed held three different winter sleds and a summer cart. He selected the fiberglass expedition sled with the longer cargo bed. He snagged the mushing gear bag hanging on the wall. After dragging the sled over to Lee and the dogs, he set the snow claw to anchor the sled in place, then quickly attached the dogs’ harnesses and tuglines to the main gangline secured on the front of the sled. He patted the pocket that held the satellite phone and checked his watch again: 2:46.
Time to go. He placed the backboard in the cargo bed.
“Hop in.” He pointed for Lee to climb on top of the flat backboard. When he dropped the EMS bag in front of her, she drew her knees up to fit. “Ready?” he hollered.
“Yes.” The word whipped away in the wind, but he saw her mittened thumbs-up.
Stepping on the runners and gripping the handle bow, he pulled the claw and called out, “Kenai. Ready. Hike!” They lurched forward as all five dogs eagerly lunged into their harnesses, and the sled began sliding over the snowy path.
Lee grabbed the top rail of the cargo bed. This trip was not how he wanted to introduce her to the joy of dogsledding. Normally, he tempered the dogs’ speed, but not today. A short trip to the scene of an emergency meant that after a five-minute moderate warm-up trot, he would let his dogs run at a quicker pace. Through the whipping wind, he peered down at Lee. She had buried her head in the circle of her arms propped on her bent knees. They raced across the meadow and beyond.
Within twenty minutes, snowmachines and men standing nearby appeared from the swirl of blowing snow and low white daylight that made everything flat and colorless.
“Whoa!” he yelled, and Kenai slowed down to a walk.
The team followed suit, then stopped at his command, yapping and puffing in the cold air before lying down in furry napping lumps.
After dropping the snow claw, Mav hefted the EMS bag onto his shoulder and hurried over to assess the situation. Lee, the front of her hat, coat hood, and neck gaiter all rimed with snow, clambered out of the cargo bed right behind him, hauling the backboard with her.
Five upright snowmachines were parked in a line on the side of the trail. The sixth snowmachine rested upside down with Nick lying on the ground nearby. His helmet had been removed. At a quick glance, Mav didn’t notice scratches or dents on the headgear.
“How are you, Nick?” Mav began his assessment.
Nick heaved in big breaths, moaning when he moved. “Not great. It’s my leg.”
Airway and breathing? Yes. Mav yanked off his glove and checked Nick’s carotid pulse. Regular and strong.
His primary assessment did not show any overt deformities, but unstable joints and occult injuries weren’t always obvious. Also, one injury could distract from other serious problems. In the cold temperatures, he couldn’t fully expose Nick for a more thorough evaluation. He had Nick wiggle his feet and hands and answer a few questions. Pupils were equal and reactive. Neurologic status grossly intact without deficits. That was good news.
Kneeling, he pressed his bare hands against Nick’s body from head to toe, reaching under his back to palpate the back and spine. When he got to the right leg, Nick yelled.
“Can you get the SAM splint?” he asked Lee.
She knelt and unzipped the EMS bag, digging until she found the moldable splint.
“Did anyone see anything? How fast were you all going?” he asked.
“No idea. The snowmobile must have malfunctioned. You’re liable for this, you know,” Randy sneered. The other men shrugged and shook their heads.
Mav gritted his teeth. “I need to know mechanism of injury. Speed. Direction. Obstacles. Did you hit something, Nick? How did you land on the ground?”
Nick squinted up at Randy then back to Mav. “Not sure. Wasn’t supposed to happen like this—”
“What he means,” Randy interrupted, “is that the throttle got stuck and the machine threw him off right before hitting the tree.” He spat into the snow. “Shoddy vehicle maintenance. Unsafe trail conditions. You should have never let us go out this afternoon.”
What the hell?
At that moment, Mav envisioned his entire business going up in proverbial smoke. Didn’t matter that the men had signed numerous waivers of liability, promising to take responsibility for damage to the vehicles and any personal injuries. Didn’t matter that Mav had warned them about the weather issues this afternoon. The customer’s perception became their reality, and Randy had decided that this whole thing was somehow Mav’s fault.
His business’s reputation would be ruined. No income meant no mortgage payments.
No mortgage payments meant that he was going to lose his family property. Right here with this accident.
Mav pushed back a queasy churning in his gut. Later. He’d deal with the fallout later. Right now, he had to help Nick.
He turned to Lee. “Mechanism of injury, moderate-speed crash without loss of consciousness. Spine precautions before immobilizing his leg.”
She nodded with an unreadable expression due to her hood, sunglasses, and gaiter protecting her face against the wind-driven snow. She positioned the board next to Nick and scooted behind him to provide in-line neck support. As Mav secured the leg splint, Lee murmured questions to Nick as a way to continue monitoring his breathing and cognitive status.
“Let’s logroll,” he said to Lee.
“Okay,” she said in her muffled voice. She leaned forward. “Hang on. We might be able to clear his spine clinically.”
“Good idea.” He ran through the algorithm. Mechanism of injury was significant impact, which was a higher risk for spine injury. No loss of consciousness. He did have a distracting injury in the leg, which complicated the assessment.
“Have you been drinking?”
“No,” Nick said. “We were going to have some drinks afterward.”
“Any drug use?” he asked.
“Hey!” Randy snapped. “Why are you asking him those questions? It’s none of your business.”
Mav shouted back, “These questions are part of the paramedic injury assessment for complicating factors. If you’re not going to help me, then stand back.”
Lee’s head whipped up. He could imagine her eyes going wide. Mav rarely yelled at anyone.
She murmured something to Nick and slid her hand under each side of his neck.
“No pain,” he said.
“Can you move it on your own?” she asked.
He gingerly flexed, extended, and rotated his head without difficulty or pain.
“That’s good.” She patted him on the shoulder and sent Mav another thumbs-up. “C-spine cleared per criteria.”
Liability being what it was, he knew the ER doc would still scan everything from head to pelvis, out of an abundance of caution. Of course, they would keep movement to a minimum en route to the hospital.
Mav projected volume behind his words. “I need one of you to help us with this backboard.” Another guest moved forward as Randy took a step back. “When I tell you, slide the board underneath him and keep all of the straps free. One, two, three.”
As one, he and Lee rolled Nick. The guest pushed the board under, then they eased Nick onto the board. Lee pulled out a reflective emergency blanket and tucked it over Nick’s coat, then they quickly secured the straps.
With the other riders helping, they lifted Nick strapped to the backboard and set him in the sled’s cargo bed.
As Mav prepared to leave, he asked the guests, “Can one of you follow us and give her a ride to the hospital?”
Randy puffed out his chest. “Sure, I’ll do it.” He bent and handed her Nick’s discarded helmet.
Mav really didn’t like that her safety depended on a guy who wanted to sue him.
No other choice.
“Don’t follow too closely or you’ll spook the dogs,” he told Randy. “Guys, can the rest of you make your way back to the cabin? Or do you want to follow us to town?” They called out confidence in reaching the lodge, and he ensured they had trail maps and GPS coordinates set. The wind had died down over the past ten minutes, visibility improved.
He looked at his watch. 3:41. Not a bad rate of extraction, considering. From this location, they were about seven miles away from town. About a half hour run for the dogs.
Before leaving, he motioned Lee over and gave her the satellite phone. “Can you call the ahead for the trauma alert? A 911 operator may have done it when we first called, but they won’t know the latest details or timing to tell the hospital.”
“Sure thing.” She patted his upper arm and said with that muffled voice, “Good job dealing with this mess, by the way.” Walking away from the men, she held the phone to her ear.
Her voice faded to nothing as he drove his sled away.