A Ranch for His Family

ROBYN MORGAN CROSSED the nearly empty hospital parking lot and inserted her key in her car door. She paused and raised her head to listen. The distant sound of a siren broke the quiet of the balmy June night. She recognized the distinctive wail of the county ambulance.

Drat! If she’d only been a minute faster getting into her car, she wouldn’t have heard it. Or, she admitted with a wry smile, if she hadn’t spent the past twenty minutes pouring over the application form for a nurse-practitioner scholarship her supervisor had given her. Twenty minutes of pure wishful thinking.

She couldn’t get over the shock of it. The accompanying letter stated that she had been recommended for a full private scholarship at the University of Colorado. The scholarships would be awarded to four candidates chosen from the names put forth by physicians practicing family medicine in Kansas, Colorado and Nebraska. The deadline for returning the application was September 1.

She had no idea who’d submitted her name, but it was flattering to know her expertise had been noted, especially since the school was one of the best in the country. But, like the carrot on a string in front of a donkey, the promise of a chance at professional advancement and a better salary dangled just out of her reach.

She couldn’t go back to school now, not with the trouble she and her mother were having with the ranch. It was tough making ends meet, and the gap widened every month. Her mom couldn’t do it alone. Robyn knew there would be expenses in going to school out of state that even a full scholarship wouldn’t cover.

Yet it was an opportunity she might never have again. There had to be some way she could make it work. She racked her tired brain for a solution but came up blank. No, she was only kidding herself. The offer was tempting in the extreme, but the timing couldn’t have been worse.

Meanwhile, was she going to stay late and help with whatever the ambulance was bringing, or was she going home? She battled with her conscience as she stood in the parking lot. Her shift was over. She’d given report to the night nurse. She could go home. She should go home.

Biting her lip, she listened to the siren’s wail growing louder.

Someone else could handle the crisis for once. She was tired. She didn’t feel like rushing in to save the day.

But her mother would have put Chance to bed hours ago. He wouldn’t know his mother hadn’t come home on time. The night-shift nurse, Jane Rawlings, was a good nurse, but she was young and inexperienced. What if it was something Jane couldn’t handle?

Robyn’s shoulders slumped in defeat. Once again, her overblown sense of responsibility won out. After pulling her keys from the car door, she threw them in her purse and hurried back through the hospital door. The look of relief on Jane’s face said she’d made the right decision.

“Thank goodness. I thought you’d gone.”

Robyn dropped her purse in a drawer behind the emergency room desk. “I should have been. One of these days, I’m going to put my own life before this job. I swear I am.”

“Right. That’ll happen about twenty-four hours after you’re dead.” The skeptical comment came from Dr. Adam Cain as he strode in.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and then raked his fingers through his thick blond hair. “What’s coming?”

Jane read from the notes she had taken when the call came in. “A bull rider has been injured over at the rodeo. The paramedics say the guy’s in bad shape. They’re suggesting we call for an airlift.” She read off his vital signs, as well.

Dr. Cain nodded. “All right, alert Kansas City General’s team that we are going to need them. It will take a little while to get the chopper ready.”

Startled, Robyn asked, “You’re going to call an air ambulance transfer without seeing the patient first?”

“I’m been moonlighting in this one-horse town long enough to know that your paramedics know their stuff. If they think this guy needs an airlift, I’m sure he does. Every second counts this far from a trauma center. If he looks like something we can handle, we’ll cancel the transport.”

Jane chuckled. “You’d better count again, Doc. We’ve got more than one horse in Bluff Springs.”

He grinned. “I stand corrected. In this two-hundred-and-fifty-horse town.”

Robyn smiled at him. “That’s more like it. When you first came here, I had my doubts about you. But I think you’ll make a decent country doctor after all.”

“Coming from a nurse like you, that’s high praise, indeed.” Returning her smile, he pulled off his white lab coat and draped it over the desk.

A blush heated her cheeks. She quickly turned away. Now wasn’t the time to let her growing attraction for this man get in the way. They worked well together. That was all. She shouldn’t read anything into his friendliness. Every unmarried nurse in the hospital, and half of the married ones, had a crush on the handsome resident who worked weekends in their small town. She didn’t intend to add herself to the list.

He glanced at the clock. “Does your husband mind you working late? Or is he used to it?”

“She isn’t married,” Jane piped up. Robyn shot her a quick frown, but Jane only grinned and winked. A newlywed herself, Jane made no secret of the fact she thought Robyn should be dating again.

“You’re not married?” His tone was puzzled. He glanced at her hand. “You wear a ring.”

“My husband passed away four years ago,” Robyn said quietly.

“I’m sorry.” His voice held true compassion. She liked that about him.

“Thank you.” Even after so many years, she still found it difficult to talk about Colin.

She quickly moved the conversation back to the task at hand. “I’ll check the IV supplies and make sure we have everything. Jane, you get started on the paperwork.”

When the ambulance backed up to the doors, they were ready and waiting for it.

“What do we have, gentlemen?” Dr. Cain grabbed the foot of the gurney. He guided it inside the doors and into the nearest room. Thick, blood-soaked bandages covered most of the patient’s face. A wide foam-and-plastic collar held his head and neck immobile. The front of his blue-and-white-striped shirt was covered with blood—a lot of blood. Robyn grasped his wrist to check his pulse.

The paramedic held an IV bag high in one hand. “White male, early thirties. He took a horn to the face. He has severe lacerations to the left cheek and eye. Looks bad for his eye, Doc. He was trampled, too. Labored breathing, concave left lower chest, no breath sounds on that side.”

“Fractured ribs, probably a punctured lung. Stupidest sport ever invented.” Dr. Cain snatched his stethoscope from around his neck, pulled back the patient’s shirt and listened.

Looping his stethoscope over his neck again, he said tersely, “Jane, get me a chest-tube tray. Crank up his oxygen to 15 liters. Let me hear some vital signs, people.”

Robyn was already gathering the information he wanted. She used the blood-pressure cuff the ambulance crew had wrapped around his arm. She took a reading and said, “BP is ninety over fifty. Pulse ninety, weak and thready, respiration’s thirty-eight and labored.”

Dr. Cain peeled back the dressings on the man’s face and frowned. “You’re right. I doubt we can save his eye. Keep a moist sterile dressing on this. We’ll let the surgeons in Kansas City sort it out.”

Jane wheeled a metal stand up beside them and pulled the wrappings off a sterile pack. “Here’s the chest-tube tray.”

“We need X-rays of his skull, neck, chest and abdomen.” Dr. Cain snapped out orders. “Get lab and X-ray in here now! I want a blood gas, a complete blood count and I want him typed and cross matched for a blood transfusion. Do we have a name?”

The two paramedics didn’t answer. Robyn raised the phone to her ear and punched in the number for X-ray, but she felt the men’s gazes on her. She turned toward them.

“It’s Neal Bryant,” one of them said.

The room grew dark at the edges of Robyn’s vision and seemed to tilt. The phone fell from her nerveless fingers and clattered to the floor. She groped behind her for the wall.

Dear God, it can’t be! She stared at the still, blood-soaked figure in stunned disbelief.

“Robyn? Robyn, who is he to you?” Dr. Cain’s voice seemed to come from a long way away.

“Nobody,” she whispered, wishing it were true.

“They were engaged once,” Jane said, then picked up the phone and spoke quickly. “Portable X-ray in E.R., stat.”

For a long, painful moment, Robyn’s heart seemed to freeze. Then it began to pound wildly inside her chest. She couldn’t get enough air. She drew in one deep breath, then another, and slowly her vision began to clear. “It was a long time ago.”

“Well, he’s going to be a dead nobody if we don’t get this chest tube in. Help or get out of the way.” Dr. Cain’s voice was harsh as he began to swab Neal’s chest with antiseptic.

“What?” She looked at him in confusion.