Dianne and the police sergeant following them.
Between them, they transferred him to the hospital gurney.
Frank stepped back and continued his report. ‘There was a smashed bottle of beer on the floor. Looks like he’d slipped in it and hit his head on the corner of the sink. I’ve dressed the laceration on his forehead. It hadn’t bled much,’ he said. ‘We found him sitting against the kitchen cupboard. After we got the go-ahead to scoop and run, all the fight went out of him. He’s been as quiet as a lamb.’
‘Okay, thanks, Frank.’ Terri leaned over her patient, her hand on his shoulder as she tried to rouse him. ‘Uncle Mick? Open your eyes if you can hear me.’
The lashes flicked up and his dry lips stretched into a smile that was more of a grimace. He fumbled with the mask and Terri helped him pull it away, noting the sweetish, ketotic odour of his breath.
‘Tee.’ He used his nickname for her and for some reason that gave her an instant of misgiving. Should she have stayed with Jessie, handed this case over to Luke as he’d offered? ‘What’re you doing here, love?’
She shook off the doubt. Responsibility for the emergency department was hers tonight. Luke being here was a bonus, not an opportunity to get him to deal with her family. ‘Do you remember what happened, Uncle Mick?’
But his eyes closed again and he mumbled an indistinct response.
‘BP is ninety over sixty,’ said Dianne.
‘Right.’ Terri slipped her stethoscope on and listened to the irregular rhythm of his heartbeat. ‘Let’s get an ECG going, please, Dianne.’
As the nurse snipped off his T-shirt and began attaching the leads, Terri slipped a tourniquet on Mick’s arm and bent over his hand. After a moment, she moved on to his wrist and then quickly to his elbow. Beneath her fingertips she could feel the tell-tale springiness of a small vein. Good enough to establish an intravenous line? She hoped so. It would be so much quicker and less complicated than putting in a central line. The sooner Mick started rehydrating, the sooner they could get him stabilised. ‘I’m going to put a needle in your arm, Uncle Mick.’
She slipped the cannula into place and released the tourniquet, permitting herself a moment of relief as she taped it securely. She carefully drew off a syringe of blood. ‘How’s that ECG looking?’
‘Typical hypokalaemic changes,’ replied a deep voice.
Luke.
Terri took a breath, willing her heart to settle. Surely Jessie hadn’t been picked up already.
‘Nina’s specialling Jessie,’ he said as though he’d read her mind. ‘She’ll call me if she needs me. The transfer chopper is still half an hour away.’
She glanced over to where he examined the ECG strip. He tilted the readout so she could see the flattened T peaks. ‘Thanks. It’s what I expected. Let’s get him started on normal saline IV with thirty millimoles of potassium.’
‘I’m on it.’ Dianne pivoted away to the bench.
Luke held out his hand for the syringe. ‘The lab tech’s in. You’ll want a priority on the electrolytes and glucose. When they can for the CBC, urea and creatinine?’
‘Yes, please. Thanks.’
She’d just opened her mouth to add a request when he said, ‘I’ll organise a strip reading for the blood glucose so you can set the insulin infusion.’
‘Right.’ There it was again-that intuitive understanding of her work rhythm. It was fantastic and a little unnerving. With anyone else, she was sure she’d have revelled in the experience. But because it was Luke, there seemed to be a level of intimacy associated with it that she badly needed to deny. But what could she say?
She turned back to her patient and flicked on her pen torch. ‘I’m going to shine a light in your eyes, Uncle Mick.’
She lifted each eyelid and watched as the pupils in the deep brown irises expanded and contracted readily. Equal and reactive. At least it looked like he didn’t have a head injury to complicate things further.
‘Blood sugar, twenty-three,’ said Luke.
‘Okay.’
Dianne appeared beside her. The nurse reeled off the potassium level in the saline bag then held it so Terri could check the label.
‘Correct,’ Terri said.
She walked around to the other side of the gurney so she could more easily examine the wound on his forehead. ‘I want to have a look at your cut, Uncle Mick.’
‘Fluids set, Terri,’ said Dianne.
‘Thanks.’
A jagged flap of skin had curled back from the triangular laceration but the area looked quite clean. A simple irrigation and suturing job.
‘No! No!’ Her quiescent patient erupted into unexpected action. So quick. One moment she was lifting the dressing and the next she was flying across the room. In slow motion she watched the horror on Frank and Dianne’s faces from the other side of the gurney, their hands uselessly reaching towards her. She saw the sergeant step forward, his mouth tight as he restrained her flailing patient.
Any moment now she was going to hit the floor. Paradoxical that she had so much time to notice everyone’s expressions but none to organise her limbs to save herself from the inevitable painful sprawl.
But it didn’t happen.
Hands reached her, catching her from behind, cradling her against a hard, warm body. Her uncle lay back down in the milliseconds in which she struggled to understand what had happened. She turned her head and looked up into Luke’s grim face. How had he managed to get across the room to save her?
‘Are you all right?’
Pain bloomed in her cheekbone, replacing the numbness of a second ago. His face dissolved and she realised her eyes were tearing up. ‘Yes. Thanks.’
She tried to move away but his hands held her firmly, preventing her escape. Short of an undignified struggle, she was helpless to free herself. Luke was so large and hot and solid. She felt fragile. Insubstantial. Utterly feminine.
Though it must have only been seconds, time seemed elastic, stretching to allow her to feel every square inch of contact. He turned her slightly. She could feel his bracing arm behind her back, the fingers that curved around the top of her arm.
‘Go and get some ice on that.’ He sounded gruff. His eyes, still fixed on her face, were dark.
She blinked the tears into submission, embarrassed at this sign of weakness. ‘I have a patient to attend to.’
‘I’m taking over.’
‘I need to-’
‘You need to stand down and let someone else handle this, Dr Mitchell.’ His voice lowered, losing its sternness. ‘I can feel you trembling, Terri. You need to go and sit down.’
Her defiance ebbed away, making her realise how shaken she felt. ‘Yes. Okay.’
He frowned suddenly and tilted his head to look at her more closely. His fingers tightened on her flesh. ‘You have a slight nosebleed.’
‘Do I?’ As soon as she spoke, she could feel the trickle just below her nostril. Knowing there was physical evidence of her injury made her feel even more vulnerable. An uncomfortable sensation.
She pulled out of his grip and this time he released her.
‘Go and clean up. I’ll finish here then come and have a look at you.’ He turned back to her uncle on the gurney.
She hesitated briefly, then realised that the others had meshed into a team around Luke to treat her uncle. She spun on her heel and left the room.
‘I found you at last.’
At the sound of Luke’s voice from behind her, Terri jumped. The boxes of twelve-gauge needles she’d been handling scattered across the shelf.
