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‘Um, fourteen? Seventeen. Yes, seventeen.’ His mind was wandering, a sure sign of a possible neurological injury.
‘You were going to the skating rink?’ Hunter was digging into his pack for a neck brace.
Brenna began assessing Johnny’s injuries. This was like old times: different setting, same questions and empathy for their patient. Different feelings for her medical partner. Kneeling opposite Hunter, memories flooded in of them working together. It was a struggle to ignore the flare of awareness that came with those.
Patient first, Brenna. Patient second, and last.
They needed to put that neck brace on Johnny in case of vertebrae injuries before anything else. Together they got it on, then she put her finger on the boy’s pulse: rapid and erratic. Was he bleeding somewhere? With her other hand she felt under the boy’s body, touched a sticky spot.
Johnny cried out.
‘Easy. We’ll give you something for the pain shortly.’ In an aside she told Hunter, ‘Torn tissue on the left side of his thigh.’
He nodded.
‘H-how are my mates?’ His breathing was rapid and shallow.
Without checking, Hunter told him, ‘They’re doing okay.’
Good move. Johnny didn’t need anything else to worry about. ‘Breathe long and slow, try not to panic. We’re here to look after you.’
Hunter repeated a question to the teen, ‘Where were you guys going so early in the morning?’ By doing that, they’d know if he began losing awareness and if the neurological dysfunction had worsened.
‘Soccer. No, hockey practice,’ Johnny cried. ‘This isn’t fair. I’ll miss the championships and I’ve worked so hard for them all winter.’ He struggled to push up on his elbows and screamed as pain twisted his face.
Brenna gently pressed him back against the car seat, her fingers then doing a quick, light assessment of his left arm. ‘Don’t move, Johnny. I’ll get you something for that pain.’ They needed to administer morphine before he was lifted out of the wreck. In a quiet aside to Hunter she added, ‘Fractured left humerus.’ Glancing lower, she inhaled deeply. ‘Also the tib and fib on the same side.’
‘Add in some ribs where the airbag slammed him, I think.’ Hunter nodded grimly, then added in a quiet aside to her, ‘He’s got a tough road ahead before he’s back on the ice.’
‘Of all the bad luck.’ After Hunter checked the vial with her, Brenna began drawing up morphine. ‘Right.’ She leaned close to their patient. ‘Johnny, I’m giving you something to stop the pain. Just a little prick in your upper arm, okay?’
Johnny didn’t even murmur as the needle slid under his skin.
‘Ready to lift him out when you are.’ A fireman leaned down.
‘We need splints on the left leg and arm, then we’ll be good to go.’ Hunter took a cardboard splint someone handed him and nodded to Brenna.
Working in sync, the splints were quickly in place and Johnny was being lifted from what remained of his seat and laid on a stretcher, leaving behind a pool of congealing blood where he’d sat.
Hunter immediately hunkered down to begin taking more obs, asking the lad questions to keep him focused.
Impressed, yet not surprised, with his total concentration on the job, Brenna cut away Johnny’s track pants to ascertain the injuries to his thigh and buttock. Her fingers found the source of the haemorrhage, and instantly Hunter passed across thick cotton pads to apply pressure before taping them in place. It was like they were meant to be together. Each knowing what the other needed. Hell, they’d been like that in bed too. In most aspects of their lives. Except when he’d left her. Another shiver down her spine jerked her back to Johnny. She was the one who needed to concentrate.
‘How’s your lad?’ Brenna asked Carl over her shoulder.
‘Breathing difficulties, a piercing from the windscreen wiper in his chest.’ Then Carl added, ‘Air’s building up in his lungs. We need him on the way ASAP, before his lungs can’t take in any more oxygen.’
If the boy’s breathing had been compromised, then the lungs would eventually malfunction. She made an abrupt decision. ‘We’ll send him first. Just say when you need to lift him out of there.’
‘Now.’ Within minutes the second teen was out of the wreck and lying on a stretcher, being carried to a chopper.
‘What about the third boy?’ Brenna asked.
The fireman answered. ‘Loaded in the ambulance and about to go. He suffered whiplash and a bang to the head that might’ve caused concussion. He’s the luckiest of them.’
‘Johnny, open your eyes,’ Hunter said. ‘Johnny.’
Reaching for Johnny’s wrist, Brenna felt for his pulse. ‘Slow. Erratic. How’s that bleeding?’
‘I’m applying another pressure bandage over the top.’
‘We’ll load him as soon as you’ve done that.’ Listening to Johnny’s chest through her stethoscope, Brenna breathed a sigh of relief. ‘I don’t think there’s any damage to the lungs, but I still want him on the way ASAP.’
Firemen lifted the stretcher on board their aircraft. All the time Johnny was groaning as tears flowed down his cheeks. ‘I want to skate. Put my boots on.’
It wasn’t happening any time soon, but no one was about to tell him. It would be bad enough when the traffic cops talked to him later about his friend’s driving as the car had been seen by the farmer racing along the road moments prior to the impact.
In their helicopter Hunter continued talking to him, keeping him calm. Then he glanced up and nodded to her. ‘You okay with this?’
‘Of course,’ she told him, sitting back into her seat and buckling in for the flight. She kept watching from under lowered eyelids, as though her eyes were drawn to him without any input from her brain. The red overalls didn’t detract from the body filling them out. Like the exhaustion falling off him didn’t tone down the raw handsomeness of his face. A face that used to turn her on with a smile, make her blood boil with anger when he was being stubborn, show compassion when she was struggling to cope with study and her dad’s illness.
No wonder her next relationship hadn’t lasted. There wasn’t a man out there who came close to Hunter. So much for believing she’d got over him. There was still a way to go. Starting now.
CHAPTER TWO
BRENNA BLEW ON her mug of mushroom soup and watched the ferry ticket for her car download. So much for doing this at work. All coherent thought had flown out of her head the moment Hunter had appeared in the locker room.
The soup burned her lips, so she put it aside to cool a bit. Outside the wind slammed against the house and rattled the windows. It had been building since about four and she’d driven home in a deluge of rain. But it had been Hunter slowing her trip. Twice she’d been tooted at for not moving when the lights had turned green. But at least she had the night to get on with things and not have to hear his voice or see that magnificent body shaping his overalls in ways that brought hot memories to the forefront of her mind. Forbidden memories. Their relationship was history. No one got a second go at dumping her. No one.
If only it could be as easy to ignore him. She could try another tactic. Picking up her phone, she pressed speed dial. ‘Hi, Mum. We’re all set to go to Victoria, leaving at five.’
‘Thanks, darling. So sorry I didn’t get around to booking the ticket.’
In her family they didn’t say they’d forgotten something any more. It came with too many memories of Dad as the dementia had begun taking hold of what had once been a very sharp mind. But this coming weekend would bring up a lot of things they only ever talked about once a year, and on past experience Mum would already be starting to get upset. ‘Want me to confirm the time with the others?’ Her half-sisters shared an apartment in Gastown.
‘Em’s here so I’ll tell her, and she can let Fay know.’
Brenna could relax. Emily had bought the passenger tickets last week. They were good to go. ‘I talked to Mrs Crawford and she’s already been in to give the beach house a polish.’ As only their neighbour at Whale Beach would. No house was ever too clean for Mrs Crawford. She’d have given the place a thorough going-over after everyone had left at the end of Thanksgiving weekend and would still go in to wipe down all the surfaces before they turned up on Friday.
