Bachelor Dad, Girl Next Door. Sharon Archer
He nodded and recorded another complete set of observations. The girl seemed to be holding her own, with her oxygen saturation and blood pressure markedly improved. Her temperature was steady. ‘You’ve done a good job, Terri.’
The curtain rattled beside them. ‘Terri, your uncle’s two minutes away.’
‘Thanks, Dianne. Be right there.’
‘You happy to take Mick’s case?’ Luke asked, glancing at her as he slotted his pen into the shirt pocket under his gown.
‘Yes, of course.’
He nodded. ‘I’ll call the air ambulance, organise Jessie’s transfer.’
‘The number’s on the wall by the phone.’ Terri turned to leave. He couldn’t stop his gaze from following her for the few paces it took her to clear the cubicle.
He breathed out a sigh, aware of the odd tension ebbing from his body with her disturbing presence gone. His physiology was more like that of a teenager.
He was a grown man.
A widower, with a daughter.
He dragged a hand down his face. The effect she had on him had to wear off.
Soon. For his sanity, it had to be soon.
Terri hurried through the department, confusion churning through her stomach. Luke had shut her out. Just as he had all those years ago on the beach. Well, what had she expected? They weren’t friends. Ryan had been his friend. She was just Ryan’s bratty little sister. It was probably all the years of hero worship and then that kiss on the beach that made her feel as though she knew Luke better than she did.
She sighed. Still, he’d be good to work for—which was a relief. She could see that much from this short stint. It had been a pleasure the way he’d fitted in so well, picking up the reins, knowing what she needed and facilitating treatment. He’d deferred to her position as the doctor on call while still commanding respect from everyone in the cubicle. The nurses, the teens, herself.
The teens’ rebellion had melted away in the face of his charm, information just flowing out of them under his non-judgemental questioning. The way he’d spoken with Jessie’s mother had been wonderful, his velvety voice so full of compassion and caring.
And he’d complimented her handling of the case. In all the years of working with Peter, her husband had never done that.
Luke’s praise meant a lot.
More than it should.
Not good! Scratch the surface and there was still a really bad case of hero worship going on underneath.
She was going to have to keep clear of him as much as possible—at work and away from it. Which might be difficult as she lived at the bottom of his parents’ garden.
Still, she had no reason to think that he would seek her out. She’d been the one doing the chasing all those years ago—even if she hadn’t realised it at the time. Things were different now. She wasn’t chasing anyone. She had enough on her plate.
To try to find her courage.
To learn to like the woman she was.
CHAPTER THREE
TERRI met the ambulance at the door, desperately trying to look as professional as possible. Her uncle lay still and pale, his beloved face slightly distorted beneath the oxygen mask. A large white dressing was taped to his forehead. Seeing him like this made her heart twist but she pushed the feeling away. He needed her competence now, not her love.
Frank began his handover as they wheeled the trolley through to the treatment room. She was aware of Dianne and the police sergeant following them.
Between them, they transferred him to the hospital gurney.
Frank stepped back and continued his report. ‘There was a smashed bottle of beer on the floor. Looks like he’d slipped in it and hit his head on the corner of the sink. I’ve dressed the laceration on his forehead. It hadn’t bled much,’ he said. ‘We found him sitting against the kitchen cupboard. After we got the go-ahead to scoop and run, all the fight went out of him. He’s been as quiet as a lamb.’
‘Okay, thanks, Frank.’ Terri leaned over her patient, her hand on his shoulder as she tried to rouse him. ‘Uncle Mick? Open your eyes if you can hear me.’
The lashes flicked up and his dry lips stretched into a smile that was more of a grimace. He fumbled with the mask and Terri helped him pull it away, noting the sweetish, ketotic odour of his breath.
‘Tee.’ He used his nickname for her and for some reason that gave her an instant of misgiving. Should she have stayed with Jessie, handed this case over to Luke as he’d offered? ‘What’re you doing here, love?’
She shook off the doubt. Responsibility for the emergency department was hers tonight. Luke being here was a bonus, not an opportunity to get him to deal with her family. ‘Do you remember what happened, Uncle Mick?’
But his eyes closed again and he mumbled an indistinct response.
‘BP is ninety over sixty,’ said Dianne.
‘Right.’ Terri slipped her stethoscope on and listened to the irregular rhythm of his heartbeat. ‘Let’s get an ECG going, please, Dianne.’
As the nurse snipped off his T-shirt and began attaching the leads, Terri slipped a tourniquet on Mick’s arm and bent over his hand. After a moment, she moved on to his wrist and then quickly to his elbow. Beneath her fingertips she could feel the tell-tale springiness of a small vein. Good enough to establish an intravenous line? She hoped so. It would be so much quicker and less complicated than putting in a central line. The sooner Mick started rehydrating, the sooner they could get him stabilised. ‘I’m going to put a needle in your arm, Uncle Mick.’
She slipped the cannula into place and released the tourniquet, permitting herself a moment of relief as she taped it securely. She carefully drew off a syringe of blood. ‘How’s that ECG looking?’
‘Typical hypokalaemic changes,’ replied a deep voice.
Luke.
Terri took a breath, willing her heart to settle. Surely Jessie hadn’t been picked up already.
‘Nina’s specialling Jessie,’ he said as though he’d read her mind. ‘She’ll call me if she needs me. The transfer chopper is still half an hour away.’
She glanced over to where he examined the ECG strip. He tilted the readout so she could see the flattened T peaks. ‘Thanks. It’s what I expected. Let’s get him started on normal saline IV with thirty millimoles of potassium.’
‘I’m on it.’ Dianne pivoted away to the bench.
Luke held out his hand for the syringe. ‘The lab tech’s in. You’ll want a priority on the electrolytes and glucose. When they can for the CBC, urea and creatinine?’
‘Yes, please. Thanks.’
She’d just opened her mouth to add a request when he said, ‘I’ll organise a strip reading for the blood glucose so you can set the insulin infusion.’
‘Right.’ There it was again—that intuitive understanding of her work rhythm. It was fantastic and a little unnerving. With anyone else, she was sure she’d have revelled in the experience. But because it was Luke, there seemed to be a level of intimacy associated with it that she badly needed to deny. But what could she say? Stop reading my mind—stop doing such a great job? Terri shrugged mentally and settled for ‘Thanks.’
She turned back to her patient and flicked on her pen torch. ‘I’m going to shine a light in your eyes, Uncle Mick.’
She lifted each eyelid and watched as the pupils in the deep brown irises expanded and contracted readily.