Montana Daddy. Charlotte Maclay
with it, and their breath fogged the inside of the windshield. The wipers struggled to clear the snow away, leaving frozen half circles on the glass.
“So do you work at a hospital in Spokane?” he asked as Kristi let the engine warm up.
“Actually, it’s a low-income clinic. We serve mostly itinerant workers. I see the patients first and handle routine problems like colds and flu or stitching up a cut. More serious injuries I refer to the doctor.”
“So you’re practically a doctor.”
She glanced at him, then shifted into gear. The headlights bounced off the curtain of falling snow as she eased forward. “The American Medical Association doesn’t see it that way.”
Behind them Rory noticed the headlights of Eric’s four-wheel-drive patrol cruiser snap on. There were some serious disadvantages to having brothers who tended to stick their noses into a man’s business. Not that Rory wouldn’t do the same, given a chance.
Leaving the parking lot, the rear end of Kristi’s truck slid sideways before the tires caught hold. She handled the skid with skill and followed the tracks left by Joe Moore’s vehicle when he’d preceded them out of the lot.
“How long before the plow comes by?” she asked.
“They concentrate on the Interstate. In a storm like this, it might be days before we see a county plow. Some of the locals usually get out their Jeeps with a scoop on the front to keep things moving here in town. Nobody bothers with the ranch roads.” Which is why his brother Walker hadn’t come into town for the emergency meeting. Too much chance of getting stuck.
“I’m glad I got Grandma home before all this mess started,” Kristi said.
So was Rory. He’d hate to think of Kristi out on the highway with this much snow falling. It would be too easy to go off the road or get stranded with no one to help her.
“Why don’t you pull in at your grandmother’s place? It’d be easier and I can walk across the street.”
“Your veterinary clinic is that close?”
“Yep. Only a couple of patients have gotten the two clinics mixed up though. I take their temperature, give ’em a rabies shot and send them home. Haven’t had any complaints.”
She sputtered a laugh. “That’s probably because none of them survived.”
Deep snow made the turn into the medical clinic drive a challenge, but Kristi made it just fine, parking near the front door. Rory admired her skill even as he wanted to linger in her company.
They both got out, and Kristi started up the steps to the porch.
“I’ll come in with you. Just to make sure the doc’s okay.” And maybe he’d talk Kristi into making a pot of hot chocolate. It was a perfect night for cuddling in front of a fire, listening to a little music. Making out.
“I haven’t been gone long. I’m sure she’s fine.”
Kristi opened the door, and Justine’s voice carried out to the porch.
“How long has he been unconscious?”
A woman responded over the sputter of static on the emergency radio set up in the clinic. Justine stood beside the radio, a crutch under one arm and the microphone in her hand.
As Rory listened to the conversation, he realized Doc Justine had a patient in trouble—Everett Durfee, who lived with his wife, Jane, in a remote cabin miles from town.
Rory suspected this was likely to be a long night for everyone when headlights flashed across the front windows of the clinic. He knew Eric had heard the tail end of the same emergency transmission on his car radio, and he’d come to the doc’s place to deal with the crisis.
When illness struck in this weather, isolation was more than a lifestyle choice. It became a life-and-death issue. And could put more than one person at risk.
Cuddling with Kristi and a pot of hot chocolate no longer seemed a possibility.
Chapter Three
“From what Jane tells me, it sounds like Everett was shoveling snow and had a heart attack. He’s unconscious, but he has a pulse and is still breathing. He staggered inside before he collapsed.”
Leaning back against the radio table, Doc Justine still had one crutch propped under her arm, and she looked worried. None of her flippant, complaining airs now. She was all professional.
Rory was impressed, as he always was, with how committed to her patients and up-to-date Justine was for a small-town doctor. Given the number of medical journals he’d seen around her office, she worked at it.
“How do you think Jane is holding up?” Eric, who had followed them into the house, shrugged out of his heavy jacket and hung it on a peg near the door.
“The Durfees are both proud and hard as nails, which is why they’ve survived this long living like a pair of hermits. But Jane doesn’t have enough arm strength to haul her husband out to their Caterpillar tractor if he’s nothing but deadweight.” She shoved away from the table, and Rory helped her to a nearby chair.
“I’d hate for her to try to drive that thing in this kind of weather,” he said. “Even assuming she could get Everett onboard.”
“I agree,” Eric said.
“How far away do they live?” Kristi lifted her grandmother’s leg and shoved a stool under her injured ankle.
“About twenty-five or thirty miles east as the crow flies,” Rory said. “There’s a dirt road that winds around for closer to sixty than thirty miles.”
“Jane also said they had three feet of snow on the ground before this storm hit, another foot’s fallen since.”
The Durfee cabin was about as isolated as you could get, located near the headwaters of the Willow River. Not exactly a tourist destination.
Kristi looked puzzled. “If they are so remote, how do they have electricity to run the radio?”
“A gas-driven generator,” Rory explain. “It’s powerful enough to run the radio or a few lights but that’s about all. They heat with a wood stove and use kerosene lamps.”
“This is one city girl who can’t imagine living that far removed from civilization,” Kristi said with a dubious shake of her head.
Eric brought them back to the crisis at hand. “Would it help if we could get some medicine to him?”
“I told Jane to give him an aspirin if he regained consciousness. But that isn’t going to help much.”
“Sounds like he needs to be in a hospital,” Kristi said. “Preferably in Great Falls. He needs an IV and ought to have resuscitation equipment on hand, electric paddles to restart his heart if he goes into cardiac arrest.”
Justine snorted. “Their cabin doesn’t come equipped with that kind of gear. If someone doesn’t get to Everett pretty darn soon, we could lose him.”
“You have portable equipment here, don’t you, Grandma?”
Rory eyed Kristi, wondering what she was thinking. Getting to the Durfee cabin on a sunny, summer day wasn’t easy. The current conditions would make it a serious challenge.
Leveling her granddaughter a stern look, Justine said, “Don’t even think about it, child. Your mother would kill me if something happened to you.”
“But he may die if he doesn’t get help. Surely there’s some way—”
“There isn’t,” Rory said. “Not for a greenhorn.”
“How about a helicopter?” she persisted.
“Not in this weather. You’d need a tank or a bulldozer to get there, and