Chapter 41
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
“…feeling as if all the happiness and support of their lives was about to be taken from them.” ~Louisa May Alcott, Little Women
E very nerve fired alive, sending fear quaking across Nat’s body, her heart racing. For half a beat, they remained in the pickup. A never-ending horn blared, pulling Nat out of that gripping terror.
I am a doctor. I’ve been trained for this. She inhaled a steadying breath.
“Elle, call 911. Clayton, come with me,” she commanded, jumping out of the car. Turning to the still open door, she ordered, “Elle, tell the operator you have a doctor on scene, put them on speaker, and bring it to me.”.
Her training kicked in. Triage patients . She jogged first towards the motorcyclist The young man groaned, his eyes fluttering open. Pain creased his face as he sat up on the blacktop, a dazed look in his dark eyes. Scrapes, cuts, and blood ran down his bare arms. Flicking her eyes to Noah’s vehicle, she saw no movement nor flicker of noise. No call for help. No moan of aching pain. No “Baby, I’m okay.” All that filtered from his battered vehicle was the echoing horn.
Scarce resource protocol. Assess immediate versus nonimmediate care. From most likely to survive to… She wouldn’t allow herself to finish that lesson learned from her medical training. She needed to focus on the patient in front of her. You’re my warrior. Noah’s voice whispered in her ears, reminding her to follow her training.
“Clayton, do you have a first aid kit in the truck?”
“Yes,” he replied, his hoarse voice shaking.
“Grab it and bring it to me, then go check on Noah. Let me stabilize the motorcyclist,” she ordered.
“On it,” he said, running back to the truck.
“I’m Dr. Nat, I’m here to help. What’s your name?” She knelt beside the man. Well, not a man. He seemed to hover between kid and manhood. Perhaps, seventeen…maybe eighteen.
“Doug,” he said, his eyes blinking.
“Doug, can you tell me what hurts?”
“My head.” He squinted, his hands pressing against his battered head.
“I see your helmet isn’t on. Were you wearing it when you crashed?”
“Off…I to…to…took it off,” he stuttered.
“Before or after you crashed?”
A furrow creased his bloody forehead. “After?” It came out more like a question than an answer.
Probable head injury or concussion , she thought, mentally flipping to head injury protocol from her ER rotation. It had been two years since she’d dealt with emergency medicine, but, like riding a bike, it was coming back to her.
“Here,” Clayton rasped as he handed her the kit.
Nodding, she took it, listening to Clayton’s swift feet sprint toward Noah. “I’m going to examine you. Is that okay?”
Nat opened the kit. Thank the Goddess! There were gloves, antiseptic cream, alcohol wipes, burn cream, bandages, ace bandages, ice pack, scissors, and tape. Dad had drilled this into all three of his children to have fully stocked first aid kids in their cars. Although, she wished she had hers from her Jeep, which had even more supplies.
Yanking on a pair of gloves, she started her examination. Groans escaped Doug as she touched him.
“I know it hurts, but I have to examine you to help you. Tell me what you feel as I touch,” she assured.
Surveying Doug’s body, she noted scrapes, cuts, and a bad case of road rash down his back. Nothing appeared to be broken, and his reflexes were intact. The teenager was sitting up, which helped her rule out a possible spinal injury, but Nat kept him seated until the ambulance could arrive, just to be on the safe side.
“Nat!” Clayton cried. “He won’t wake up!”
Her heart screamed to run to Noah, but she knew she had to take care of the alert patient first. Move from less critical to most critical in situations like this. Nat’s training steadied her shaking hands.
“Check his pulse!” Nat shouted in a steady voice.
A moment later, Clayton yelled. “It’s there…It’s steady.”
Thank the goddess. She let out a heavy breath. “Keep talking to him. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Her voice carried no hint of the fear rioting within her.
My brave girl. Noah’s words bolstered her.
She focused on Doug, locating the cut in his hairline, and began cleaning it with an alcohol wipe. He winced.
“I know.” She bit her lip as she cleaned the wound. He’d need stitches, but she couldn’t do that now, even if she’d had the full kit she kept in her car. She grabbed the cotton balls to place over the wound to tape and slow the bleeding until the paramedics arrived.
“Doug, talk to me. Where were you headed today?” Nat knew she needed to keep him talking. The drooping eyes and dazed look indicated a possible concussion.
“To the bakery,” he mumbled.
“What were you going to get there?” She pushed him to keep talking.
“Scones for my grandma.”
Elle ran up, waving her cell phone. “Paramedics are on their way. They are on speaker.”
Finally! “This is Dr. Nat Owens. We have two victims. One awake with a laceration along the hairline, cuts and scrapes along his arms and back, and possible concussion. The second victim is unconscious with a steady pulse.”
Terror brightened Elle’s eyes.
“The ambulance is on the way. ETA five to ten minutes, Dr. Owens,” the operator said. “I’ll remain on the line with you until they arrive.”
Nat nodded as if the operator could see her. Looking at Elle, she ordered, “Grab a pair of gloves from the kit and put them on.”
Elle placed the cell phone on the ground between them and complied.
Once Elle had the gloves on Nat said, “Keep Doug talking. If he passes out, scream for me. Also…” She grabbed Elle’s hand, placing it over the head wound she’d bandaged. “…hold on to this tight. I’m going to check on Noah.”
Elle nodded at Nat and then turned to Doug. “Hi, Doug, I’m Elle. Do you like books?”
Tugging off her gloves, she tossed them to the ground, put on a fresh pair, and then grabbed the cell phone. Jumping to her feet, and sucking in a deep breath, she ran to Noah’s SUV.
Doctor first, girlfriend second. She willed panic down. Noah needed her to be his brave girl. To be his warrior.
Reaching the open driver’s side door, she found Clayton. He stood there, hands on his head talking to Noah, who was slumped against the steering wheel, thin streams of blood ran down the side of his face.
“I didn’t move him. I keep talking to him. He hasn’t woken. He hasn’t moved.” His voice shook.
She handed the phone to him. “Hold this. The operator is on the line. Hold it up so I can hear and talk to them if needed.”
Nodding, he took the phone. “Noah, Nat’s here. She’s going to fix you.”
With a tentative reach, Nat touched Noah. “Baby, can you hear me? You’ve been in a car accident. You are on the side of the road in Perry.” The last thing she wanted was for him to wake up thinking he was at that roadside in Iraq.
Heart still racing, she pressed shaking fingers to his neck, relieved to find a strong beat. “His pulse is good,” she assured Clayton, who let out a thankful breath. He’d already checked Noah’s pulse, but it appeared they both needed the confirmation.
Gently guiding Noah back against his seat, she turned to her brother. “Clayton, come hold his head up.”
Clayton placed the phone on the ground and reached his long arms in to keep Noah’s head up. Nat pulled up Noah’s eyelids and shined her cell phone’s flashlight into his eyes.
“Baby, can you hear me? It’s Nat. I’m here, baby. I’ve got you.” The forced steadiness in her began to break. She was losing the battle to remain Dr. Owens and not his Nat. “You need to wake up because Clayton needs to apologize for being an asshole.”
“I do, and I want you to be awake when I do.” His lips trembled. “I want you to be awake when I tell you how fu–fu– fu–fucking wrong I was. That I love you and I am ha…ha…happy you’re with Nat. Although, if you hurt her, I’ll ki…ki…kick your ass.”
Nat flashed him a tight smile.
Sirens howled in the distance.
Noah remained unconscious. Nat’s breath grew ragged, and the tears pushed to the front of her eyes. Fuck it! She was no longer Dr. Owens; she was his Nat.
“Noah, you’re not allowed to leave me. I won’t allow it… Not when I’m finally yours, and you’re mine. I love you. I love you. I love you,” she wept, pressing her lips against his bruised and bloodied face.
Noah groaned, and his eyes fluttered open. “Nat?”
“I’m here, baby. I love you.” She kissed his lips.
“I love you,” Noah moaned, his eyes darting to the pair of hands holding his head up.
“It’s Clayton. I’m here. We’ve got you. Nat and me,” he said, relief softening his features.