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China studied his profile. Straight backed with wide shoulders, Payton looked as if he’d been born on a boat. His ability to make her come alive when he touched her made her shiver to think about it. China smiled. She really couldn’t resist him.
Payton showed her how to tie the boat firmly at the bow and had her do it at the stern, guiding her through the steps. China waited while he hopped aboard again and got their lunch trash. He climbed back onto the dock, tossed the bag in a nearby garbage can, took her hand and they walked toward his car. They passed a group of deep-sea fishing boats along the way. On one, a couple of men looked as if they were working on some fishing gear.
“Have you ever been deep-sea fishing?” Payton asked.
“N—”
The air was suddenly scorched by a four-letter word. They both stopped and looked back.
One of the men was holding his hand up and jumping around.
“Pete, stand still and let me have a look,” the other man said in an annoyed voice.
“Wh’ta you need to look for? You’re the one who pushed the damn hook through my finger.”
“I’ve got to get it out,” the other man said in a high voice.
“You’re not touching me. You’d kill me,” Pete yelled.
“Then I’ll take you to the emergency room.”
“That’ll cost too much. No insurance.”
China and Payton walked over to the boat. “Can we help? I’m Dr. Payton Jenkins and this is China Davis. She’s a nurse.”
Peter stopped pacing, his face contorted in pain. “Yeah.” He held up his meaty finger for them to see. Between the first and second knuckle of his index finger the bright gold eye end of a nook jutted from his skin. There wasn’t any blood but the tight white line around Pete’s mouth told it was painful.
“You have a first-aid kit?” Payton asked.
“Yeah,” the man without the hook in his finger said.
“Get it, please.”
“Right away.” He disappeared into the cabin of the boat.
The dimming lighting along the pier necessitated that Payton and China climb aboard in order to see. The light of the cabin overhang was better, otherwise she would have insisted that Payton work on the dock. Compared to Payton’s immaculate sailboat, this one was a trash dump. He stepped onto the boat then helped her. In short order, which China was astonished by, the man returned with the first-aid kit. Apparently things were more in organized inside the cabin.
“Okay, Pete, you need to sit down.” Payton looked around as if unsure where that would happen.
The man pushed the stuff piled on a raised captain’s chair off onto the deck with a clatter. Pete dropped into the chair without question, looking far too pale in the faint light.
With a raised eyebrow of bewilderment that was almost comical Payton said, “All right, then, let’s see what we’ve got.” Payton took the man’s hand in his and examined the wound site. He looked at Pete. “You know I can’t pull this back. The barb will get more securely stuck in your finger. That will require surgery.”
“I was ’fraid of that,” he said in a tight voice as he glared at his friend.
“I’m going to have to push it though. The one promise I can make is that it’s going to hurt like the devil.”
“Just do it, Doc. I can’t walk around with this.” He glanced at China as if reminding himself to watch his language. “Blasted hook in my finger.”
“I’m going to need some wire pliers. Got any?”
“Sure,” Ralph said. “What kind do you want?”
“The sharpest will suffice.”
“Coming up.”
Payton turned his attention back to Pete. “I’m going to clip off the eye end of the hook and use that end to push it through.” Payton rubbed the spot on the finger where the hook should come through. “The skin on our fingers is some of the toughest of the body. Yours is especially thick because of the type of work you do. This won’t be fun.”
“Never thought it would be,” Pete announced stoically, but a look of fear showed through his bravado.
“So, Pete, how long you been a fisherman? China, would you see if you can find some alcohol that we can use to sterilize this with?” Payton was referring to the hook.
She opened the kit and located a few alcohol pads.
“Aw, about twenty years or so,” Pete answered.
The other man returned with the pliers and handed them to Payton.
“China, open one of those and wring the liquid out over the hook and the pliers. It may take two.”
She tore the alcohol package and did as he instructed over the hook. As the liquid ran over Pete’s finger he winced.
“Now the pliers,” Payton said.
China squeezed all she could out of the first pad and then opened another.
“Okay, we’re ready to start. China, hold Pete’s hand down against the arm of the chair.”
She moved around beside Payton and took Pete’s wrist securely in her hand.
“I think I’ll go see about something in the cabin,” the friend stated.
“Yeah, that’s just like you, running from a little blood.” Pete looked at Payton and nodded his head toward the man. “He faints at the sight of blood.”
Payton stopped what he was doing. “Go into the cabin. I don’t need to have to stitch you up if you hit your head.” Payton waited for the man to disappear into the cabin. “All right, Pete, you may feel a tug when I cut off the eye.”
“I’m ready when you are, Doc.”
Payton snipped off the end of the hook quickly and surely. Pete let out a yelp.
“Okay, this is going to be the hard part. China, hold him tight. Pete, grip the armrest. Here we go.” Putting the flat of the pliers against the top of the hook Payton pushed. China watched as his chew tightened in his effort to not hurt the man and still get the hook to move through the skin.
Pete hissed. Payton leaned into the effort. Time seemed to creep by before the barbed end of the hook made a bump in Pete’s skin and then popped through. Pete had turned white.
“Oh, hell,” Payton said.
“What’s wrong?” China asked, looking at the hook.
“The tip of the hook is missing. It may have broken against the bone or been that way before it went in but either way it’s missing.”
“What’s the problem?” Pete asked in a tight voice.
“It means that I have no choice but to take you to the E.R. It has to be x-rayed.”
“I can’t pay.”
“Let’s not worry about that now. You could get an infection and it could kill you if that tip stays in your finger.”
“Come on, Doc. Is there no other way?”
“No.” Payton said the word as if he was a general giving orders. “China, we’ll take him in the car. Let’s get the finger covered and get moving.”
China pulled out what bandage and tape she could find in the kit and used them to cover the finger, hook and all.
“Hey,” Payton called into the cabin to Pete’s friend. “We’re going to have to take Pete to the E.R.”
“What?” the man stuck his head out of the cabin.
“I’ve got to go to the hospital, man. Come pick me up,” Pete said.
“Hold your hand up above you heart and it will help the throbbing,” China told Pete, as they walked up the pier. Payton had jogged ahead to get his car and meet them at the entrance of the pier. Payton was pulling up when Pete started to sag beside her. She put an arm around his waist but with his girth she had little chance of holding him upright. The car screeched to a halt and Payton came running to help.
Together they steadied Pete and helped him into the back seat of the car.
“Let’s go before he does more damage to hi
mself or one of us.” Payton took his seat behind the steering wheel.
With Pete seated and his head lying back against the top of the seat, China said, “I’ll ride back here and make sure he doesn’t pass out.” She climbed into the backseat.
Payton didn’t break any laws but he didn’t hesitate to move as fast as possible through the traffic. At the hospital, he pulled under the covered emergency entrance. China had her door open and was coming around the car to help with Pete by the time Payton was opening the door. Together, supporting Pete on each side, they walked into the building.
As one of the nurses came toward them Payton announced. “I’m Dr. Jenkins from the walk-in clinic downtown. I need an exam room.”
