When The Right One Comes Along

Jessica turned to the tray behind her for a pair of scissors. “Kayla’s mother died in the quake, didn’t she?” She turned back in time and knew the answer before he vocalized it. She saw the sorrow flash across his face, cloud his eyes. Jessica met a lot of cops as a trauma unit doctor and while taking shifts in the emergency room. She knew it was a hard job and they saw unimaginable horrors, and yet she worried most about the ones who seemed to have become hardened against it. This one didn’t look like a rookie, but he wasn’t calloused, either.

“And the father?” she asked as she removed the makeshift tourniquet around his thigh and began to cut away the soiled denim. She tried to sound casual, all the while berating herself. Here she was, still worried about Kayla, and she knew too well what that could lead to.

Cal shrugged. “No idea.”

“Okay.” Jessica tried to force Kayla out of her mind. The little girl would probably be gone by the time she got to the hospital and she’d never see her again. That was the way she wanted it. “How did this happen?” She repeated her earlier question as she continued to cut away the jeans, noting the dirt and rust stains on the denim. “Exactly?”

Cal gave her a short account.

Jessica paused, glanced at the beautiful German shepherd sitting quietly next to the table, completely focused, not missing a thing. She found herself reassessing her opinion of the cop. “You went back into the building following the aftershock to get your dog?”

Cal leaned over to drop a hand possessively on Scout’s head. “I needed to ascertain Kayla’s mother’s condition, too, but yeah. Scout’s my partner. I couldn’t leave him. By the way, do you have any water I can give him?”

“Sure.” Jess considered the tough exterior of the cop as she poured some water into a plastic container. He came across as harsh and surly, but he clearly cared about kids and dogs.

She’d worked with enough cops to know that police dogs were considered a tool by the department, and she’d never understood how their handlers could spend so much time with their dogs and think of them that way. Obviously this cop didn’t. There had to be a soft center under that hard shell.

She expected she’d have done the same thing. Gone after the dog, if he was hers. But then again, she tended to lead with her heart. That had been her downfall as a pediatric surgeon, and likely would’ve made her a lousy cop, too.

With the full shift she’d put in at the hospital before she was called out to the field, she was worn out. It was hardly surprising that her mind kept wandering; still, she needed to focus.

She had to clean the wound and apply a temporary dressing for pressure before she sent the cop off to the hospital. He’d probably gotten dirt and rust deep in the wound, and that concerned her. She’d clean it the best she could, but he’d have to be looked at. They were out of local anesthetic in the field because they’d treated so many people. As nasty as the wound was, she had to clean it. She knew it would hurt, but she couldn’t wait until fresh supplies arrived.

“How’d you break your nose?” she asked, trying to distract him as she peeled back more of the denim that was stuck to his leg.

“It happened when I was a kid,” he responded tersely.

“How?” she persisted.

“I was teaching my brother karate.”

“Yeah?” She wanted to keep him talking.

“I was showing him how to split a board. Frankly, he sucked at it. Drew was always a geek.” She detected the smile in his voice, but the affection, too. “I was holding the board for him when our mother called us for lunch.” He chuckled. “I lowered my arms. Drew took his shot. For once his aim was right on, and he connected with my nose, where the board would have been.”

When she glanced up at him, he was grinning. There wasn’t any resentment, which surprised her. The hard, angular lines of his face were transformed by the appealing, almost boyish smile. She was tempted to shake her head. She must really be exhausted if she was thinking how attractive one of her patients was. “You’re kidding?”

“No. It’s true.”

Jess raised an eyebrow, but went back to her task. “This is going to hurt,” she cautioned. “There’s not much I can do about it. We’re out of anesthetic.” She looked up again. His smile had faded, and he nodded. He knew what was coming and seemed ready for it.

Even so, as soon as she started to clean the wound with the iodine-based cleanser, he threw his head back and groaned loudly.

At Cal’s obvious agony, the big dog sprang up and let out a throaty, menacing growl directed at her. It all happened so fast. Cal was still absorbed by the pain and hadn’t noticed, but Jess was well aware that most police dogs were trained to protect their handlers. That was obviously what the shepherd was intent on doing. If she showed fear or appeared to be a threat, she suspected the dog would attack her. She only had an instant to consider. She took a step toward the dog, drawing her shoulders back. The dog bristled, growled and stood his ground but didn’t advance.

Calm, assertive, she reminded herself. “Sit,” she ordered in a no-nonsense voice, using her hand to reinforce the command. The dog glanced over at Cal, who was still preoccupied with his pain. The dog cocked his head and hesitated, but Jessica didn’t back down. He made an oddly human huffing sound. Still alert, still on guard, he nonetheless obeyed her command and plopped down. His eyes remained watchful and trained on Jess.

Jessica exhaled. The dog must not have perceived her as an imminent threat to the cop, or he wouldn’t have listened to her. Still, she was relieved that she hadn’t been attacked by him in the process. He was a beautiful dog, but large and she had no doubt those shiny white teeth could mean business if he was provoked.

Turning her attention back to Cal, she saw astonishment on his face, and something else. Could it be respect from the cantankerous cop?

He eyed his dog. The dog angled his head and waited. “Down,” he ordered, then looked back at Jessica. “I can’t believe he responded to you. How did you do that?”

She couldn’t resist the small smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. “He’s your dog. You tell me.”

The dog was lying down with his head between his outstretched paws, shifting his gaze back and forth between the two of them. “Obviously he didn’t think you intended to hurt me,” he murmured.

“I’d appreciate it if you could assure him of that. I’m going to continue to clean your wound, and I wouldn’t want him to get the wrong idea.”

“Scout, stay. Friend,” he added.

“Now can we get back to this, if... Scout, is it?”

He nodded.

“If Scout doesn’t object?”

Jessica worked quickly and efficiently to clean the wound and apply a temporary dressing. She tried not to be distracted by the large dog. She could see from her peripheral vision that he was watching her every move. She’d shown him who was alpha, but he was the cop’s dog, and based on his earlier reaction, she supposed he’d protect his handler if he thought she was hurting him. She was glad the cop was taking her ministrations stoically, and was thankful he handled the pain as well as could be expected. She didn’t want to test her mettle against his dog again. She knew he must have been in excruciating pain while she cleaned the wound, but after the initial outcry, the only sounds he made were deep hissing breaths during the worst of it. She didn’t take the time to look up at him, but she could see his white-knuckled grip on the edge of the table.

“We’re done here,” Jessica said as she applied a bandage to Cal’s leg, tossed the blood-stained cloths into the waste receptacle and took off her gloves.

“Great. Thanks,” Cal said through gritted teeth as he slid off the table to balance on his left leg.

Jessica placed her palm lightly on his chest. “Not so fast.” She shouldn’t have been surprised at how firm his chest felt under her fingers. She was tempted to keep her hand there, but pulled it back quickly.

“Why?” Cal asked, testing to see if he could put weight on his right leg, only to wince and nearly collapse.

Jessica gave him a humorless smile. “Well, that, for one. I doubt you’ll be able to put weight on that leg for the foreseeable future. It’s not just a surface wound. It’s a fairly deep soft-tissue injury. I wouldn’t rule out that you might have chipped some bone, too. Worst-case scenario, you might have fractured your femur. In any case, you’ll need crutches, and you’ll have to stay off the leg for at least a couple of weeks.”

Cal threw her an annoyed look but she continued. “Secondly, you need to go to the hospital. Not just for an X-ray to determine if there is a fracture. The rebar that gouged you was dirty and rusty. I cleaned your wound as well as I could here, but it’ll have to be cleaned more thoroughly and there’s no telling whether some of the rust and dirt might have gotten into your bloodstream. That would mean you’ll—”

“Yeah. I know. Have to watch for sepsis.”

Jessica nodded. “Correct. So, you’ll be making a trip to the hospital.”

She could feel him watching her as she made notations on the chart.

“I don’t have time to go to the hospital.”

She raised her eyes and gave him her best authoritative look. “Before you argue that point, tell me when you had your last tetanus shot?”

“Cops have to get regular shots. You should know that.”

“I do, but that doesn’t answer my question.” Since there was no reply, Jessica glanced up again.

“I don’t know. A few years back.”

Having completed the charting, she put down the clipboard. “Would a few be more or less than five years?”