Tamed by her Brooding Boss

‘Okay, whatever you say. Though I do feel I could be of help with the rest of the injured.’

He was already on his way to the door of the helicopter, his medical kit strapped to his back in readiness. ‘Let’s see how it goes, shall we? According to the paramedics, our primary patient is in a bad way. He needs to be our main concern right now.’

Sarah followed him to the side of the road where a paramedic was tending an injured youth. There were police vehicles nearby and a young officer was directing traffic while another was setting up a road block.

She knelt down beside the casualty. He couldn’t be much more than eighteen years old. He lay on the grass verge, well away from the traffic, and his face was white, blanched by shock and loss of blood. The paramedic was giving him oxygen through a mask.

‘There are two people suffering from whiplash and sprains,’ the paramedic told them. ‘They’re being looked after by my colleague, along with another man who has chest injuries—broken ribs and collarbone, from what we can tell so far. This lad is Daniel Henderson, motorcyclist. He and his friend were on their way to the coast when they ran into trouble. The two motor vehicles crashed at a road junction and the lads had no way of avoiding them.’

James was already assessing the extent of the boy’s injuries. ‘His lower leg’s grossly deformed,’ he said in a quiet voice. ‘It looks like a fracture of both the tibia and fibula. That degree of distortion has to be affecting the blood supply.’

The paramedic nodded. ‘He’s in severe pain, he’s very cold and his circulation is shutting down. We can’t give him pain relief because we can’t find a vein.’

It was a bad situation, because if there was an inadequate supply of blood to Daniel’s foot there was the possibility that gangrene would set in and he might lose his leg.

‘Thanks, Colin. I’ll do an intraosseous injection,’ James said, reaching into his medical bag for a bone injection gun. He spoke directly to the boy. ‘I’m going to give you something to take away the pain, Daniel. It’s a strong anaesthetic, so after a minute or two you’ll be feeling much better. There’ll be a sharp sting and soon after that you’ll start to feel drowsy. Are you okay with that?’

Daniel nodded and closed his eyes. It was a case of the sooner the better, as far as he was concerned.

‘Shall I clean the injection site and prepare the ketamine for you?’ Sarah asked, and James nodded.

‘Yes, thanks.’

As soon as she had cleaned and draped an area on Daniel’s upper arm, James located the injection site and pressed the device on the gun that would insert a trocar through the bone and into the soft marrow that was filled with blood vessels. Once he’d done that, he removed the trocar and taped the cannula, the smallbore tube, in place.

Sarah connected an intravenous tube to the cannula and then James was able to give the boy the medication he needed. ‘How are you doing, Daniel?’ he asked softly after a while. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I’m all right.’ Daniel’s voice became slurred as the drug began to take effect.

‘Can you feel this?’ James pressed a wooden tongue depressor against his leg.

Daniel shook his head.

‘That’s good, it means the anaesthetic’s working,’ James said. He glanced at Sarah. ‘I think we can safely try to realign the bones enough to restore his circulation. If you and Colin hold him still—Colin at his chest, and you, Sarah, take hold of his upper leg—I’ll manoeuvre his ankle and start to pull. We’ll need to take great care—we don’t know how much damage has already been done to the blood vessels. Let’s hope we can do this without too much of a struggle.’

He spoke softly so as not to alarm his patient, but Daniel was by now well anaesthetised and wasn’t much concerned about what was happening. Sarah guessed he was simply glad to be free of pain at last.

James worked carefully to straighten out the broken bones as best he could, and as soon as he had achieved that to his satisfaction, he began to splint the leg to prevent any further movement.

‘That should do the trick,’ he said. ‘His circulation should be restored now.’

Sarah kept an eye on Daniel the whole time. She was worried about him. He wasn’t saying anything, and had appeared to be drifting in and out of consciousness throughout the procedure.

‘We should put in a fluid line,’ she said in an undertone. ‘He’s lost a lot of blood.’

‘Yes,’ James answered. ‘Do you want to see to that, and then we’ll transfer him to a spinal board?’

She didn’t waste any time, and as soon as she had set up the line they worked together to make sure the young lad was comfortable and covered with a space blanket. Then they secured him with straps to the board so that he could be transferred to the helicopter.

James left them briefly while he went to check on the other patients, but he returned quickly and took his place beside Sarah in the helicopter.

‘The others will be okay to travel by road,’ he said. ‘It’ll take around an hour for them to get to the hospital, but they’re in no immediate danger.’

He glanced at his patient. ‘I’ve asked Tom to radio ahead and alert A and E to have an orthopaedic surgeon standing by,’ he told Sarah. ‘How’s the lad doing?’

‘His blood pressure’s low and his heart rate is rapid, with a weak pulse,’ she answered. The signs of shock were all there, but they’d done everything they could for now, and all they could do was wait.

Tom was already setting the helicopter in motion, lifting them up off the ground. Within minutes he had turned them around and they were heading out across the Cornish peninsula towards the hospital, some thirty miles away.

James checked on the injured youth, lifting the blanket to look at his feet. ‘His toes are beginning to pink up,’ he pointed out, glancing at Sarah.

‘Oh, thank heaven,’ she said. She smiled at him, her mouth curving, her green eyes bright with relief. With his circulation restored, the imminent danger of Daniel losing his leg had been averted. ‘I’m so glad for him.’

James nodded. He gently tucked the blanket in place, but he didn’t once take his gaze from Sarah. He was watching her closely, as though he was mesmerised, taking in the warmth of her response, the soft flush of heat that flared in her cheeks.

The breath caught in her throat, and a familiar hunger surged inside her as she returned his gaze. There was a sudden, dull ache in her chest, an ache that came from knowing her unbidden yearning could never be assuaged. He still had the power to melt her bones and fill her with that humiliating need that would forever be her downfall.

She closed her eyes briefly. How on earth would she be able to work with him over the weeks, months that lay ahead?

‘We’ll be coming in to land in about two minutes.’ The pilot’s voice came over the speaker.

‘Okay, Tom. We’ll be ready.’ James turned his attention back to the boy on the stretcher. He was self-contained, in control, as always.

Sarah looked out of the window. She had to keep things between them on a professional footing. That was the only way she could survive. From now on it would become her mantra.

CHAPTER TWO

‘YOU look as though you could do with a break. Has it been a tough week?’ Murray laid a manila folder down on a corner of the pine kitchen table, avoiding the clutter of pastry boards and rolling pins. ‘I brought the colour charts I promised you,’ he added, tapping the folder. He stared at her, looking her up and down. ‘You’re not your usual jaunty self today. What’s up?’

‘Nothing’s up.’ Sarah smiled at her spiky-haired neighbour and waved him towards a chair. Perhaps she was a bit pale from being cooped up in the house, and since she was cooking with the children today there were probably traces of flour in her hair where she’d pushed it off her face with the back of her hand. ‘If I look less than on top of the world, I guess it’s because I was up till all hours last night, painting the walls in the living room. Sit down and I’ll pour you some tea. We were just about to have a cup.’

‘Sarah’s going to paint our bedrooms next,’ Sam put in eagerly. He was using a cutter to make gingerbread shapes, and he paused now to assess his handiwork. ‘She said we can choose the colours—’cept for black. She won’t let me have that.’ His bottom lip jutted and he frowned as he thought about that for a second or two. Then his eyes lit up. ‘Purple would be good, though—or bright red.’

‘We helped Sarah with the living room,’ Rosie put in. ‘Well, I did. Sam kept going off and playing on his game machine.’ She looked at her older brother and shook her head.

‘You were both a great help, all the same,’ Sarah said, her eyes crinkling at the corners. ‘It’s going to be a long job, though,’ she admitted, glancing at Murray as she went over to the worktop at the side of the room. She lifted up the sunshine-yellow teapot. ‘I knew there would be a lot of work when we moved in here a fortnight ago. This place was in a pretty wretched state when I bought it.’

Murray pulled a face. ‘I guessed it was bad—the old man who used to live here wasn’t able to do much in the way of maintenance—but I knew he was looking for a quick sale once he’d decided to go and live with his son and his family in Somerset. I did what I could to help him out with things, but there was a limit to what I could do, with company business getting in the way. There were orders for goods coming in thick and fast and supplies from the warehouses were delayed and so on. There’s been a lot to sort out over the last few months.’ He frowned. ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have pointed the house out to you,’ he finished on a thoughtful note.

She poured his tea and came towards him once more, placing the mug in front of him. ‘You did the right thing,’ she told him, laying a hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently. ‘I’m really glad you told me about this place. I don’t know what I’d have done otherwise. It was exactly what I needed.’

‘Hmm … Well, I suppose a lick of paint here and there will work wonders.’ He glanced at the children, busy laying out gingerbread men on a baking tray. Rosie’s were perfectly symmetrical, with raisins placed in exactly the right place to represent eyes. Sam, on the other hand, was far more slapdash in his approach, and his men looked like cross-eyed vagabonds, with bits missing here and there. Sarah suspected he’d been surreptitiously tasting the uncooked mixture every now and again—the greasy smears around his mouth were a dead give-away.

Murray looked at Sarah once more as she placed the first batch of gingerbread men in the hot oven. ‘How’s the job going? Is it working out for you?’

She sat in a chair opposite him, leaving it to the children to finish rolling out the remains of the gingerbread mix on a pastry board.

‘I think so. It’s early days yet. My boss is watching my every move.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘I think he’s worried I might slip up and inadvertently kill off one of our patients.’