.
‘And the picture should tell us if it’s in a position that would have caused tendon damage.’
‘Why does that make a difference?’ Now he was pain-free—if only temporarily—the patient was becoming impatient.
‘It makes the difference between pulling it out and cutting it out.’
‘No cutting, just yank the damn thing out,’ the patient said, but Keanu ignored him, going quietly on with the job of setting up the head of the unit above the man’s foot.
Intrigued by the procedure—and definitely in nurse mode—Caroline had to ask.
‘I thought the hospital had a designated radiography room,’ she said, remembering protocols at the hospital where she’d worked that suggested wherever possible X-rays be carried out in that area, although the portables had many uses.
Keanu glanced up at her, his face once again unreadable.
‘There is but I doubt you and I could lift him onto the table and with his leg already numb he’s likely to fall if he tries to help us.’
Which puts me neatly back in my place, Caroline thought.
‘Move back!’
Ignoring the peremptory tone, she stepped the obligatory two metres back from the head of the machine, watched Keanu don a lead apron—so protocols were observed here—and take shots from several angles.
That done, he wheeled the machine to the corner of the room, hung his apron over a convenient chair and checked the results on a computer screen.
‘Come and look at this. What do you think?’
Assuming he was talking to her, not the immobile patient, she moved over to stand beside him—beside Keanu, who had been the single most important person in the world for her for the first thirteen years of her life. Important because, unlike her father, or even Christopher, he’d always been there for her—her best friend and constant companion.
Until he’d disappeared.
But this Keanu …
It was beyond weird.
Spooky.
And, oh, so painful …
‘Well?’ he demanded, and she forgot about the way Keanu was affecting her and concentrated on the images.
‘By some miracle it’s slipped between two metatarsals and though it’s probably hit some ligament or tendon, because the bones are intact it shouldn’t impact on the movement of the foot too much.’
‘And don’t look at me like that,’ she muttered at him, after he’d shot yet another questioning glance her way. ‘I am a trained nurse, and have been a shift supervisor in the ER at Canterbury Hospital.’
‘I don’t know how you found the time,’ he said as he headed back to the patient.
She was about to demand what the hell he’d meant by that when she realised this was hardly the time or place to be having an argument with this man she didn’t know.
Her friend had been a boy—was that the difference?
It certainly was part of it given the way her body was reacting to the slightest accidental touch …
‘Okay, so now I need you to swab all around the nail then hold his foot while I try to yank the nail out. I’d prefer not to have to cut it out.’
Caroline put on new gloves, cleaned the areas above and beneath the foot, changed gloves again and got a firm grasp of the man’s foot, ready to put all her weight into the task of holding on if the nail proved resistant.
But, no, it slid out easily, and as the wound was bleeding quite freely now, it was possible the risk of infection had been limited.
‘Antibiotics and tetanus injections in the locked cupboard,’ Keanu told her as he examined the wound in the patient’s foot. ‘And bring some saline and a packet of oral antibiotics as well. Everything’s labelled as we get a lot of agency nurses coming out here for short stints. I’ll use the saline to flush the wound before we dress it.’
He worked with quick, neat movements, cleaning the wound, putting the dressings on—usually, in her experience, a job left to a nurse—before administering the antibiotic and a tetanus shot. He even pulled a sleeve over the foot to keep the dressings in place and keep them relatively clean.
‘Now all we have to do is get you back to your accommodation,’ Keanu said. ‘Keep off the foot for a couple of days and find your workboots before you go back on the job. If you don’t have any you can phone the mainland and have some sent out on tomorrow’s plane. Nurse Lockhart and I will help you out to a cart and I’ll run you back down the hill.’
‘I’ve got workboots,’ the man said gruffly. ‘And I’ll phone my mate to come and get me, thanks. The foreman on the job doesn’t like strangers on the site.’
‘Strangers on the site? What site? What’s happening at the research station, Keanu?’
He touched her on the arm.
‘Leave it,’ he said quietly, and the touch, more than his words, stopped her questions.
Since when had her body reacted to a casual touch from Keanu’s hand?
It was being back on the island …
It was seeing him again …
Remembering the hurt …
Caroline closed her eyes, willing the tumult of emotions in her body to settle. She was here to heal, to find herself again, but she was also here to work.
She cleaned up, dropping soiled swabs into a closed bin marked for that purpose and the needles into a sharps box. Their patient was now sitting on the examination table, chatting to Keanu about, she found as she edged closer, fishing.
Well, it wasn’t something she wanted to discuss right now, and as she needed time to sort out her reactions to seeing Keanu again, she slipped away, heading back down the track to the airstrip to collect her suitcase.
She could walk up to the house on the path behind the hospital and so avoid seeing the source of her confusion again. And once she was up at the house—home again—she could sort things out in her head—and possibly in her body—and …
And what?
Make things right between them?
She doubted that could ever happen. He had disappeared without a word, returned her letters unopened.
But now she’d have to work with him. Was she supposed to behave as if the life they’d shared had never happened?
As if his disappearance from it hadn’t hurt her so badly she’d thought she’d never recover?
Impossible.
She’d reached the airstrip and grabbed her case by the time she’d thought this far and as further consideration of the problem seemed just that—impossible—she put it from her mind and started up the track, feeling the moisture in the air, trapped by the heavy rainforest on each side, wrap around her like a security blanket.
She was home, that was the main thing.
The track from the strip to the big house led up the hill behind the hospital and staff villas.
Staff villas?
Keanu.
Forget Keanu!
For her sanity’s sake, she needed to work—she’d already sat around feeling sorry for herself for far too long as a result of another desertion.
And another nurse would always come in handy on the island even if they couldn’t afford to pay her. She had her own place to live and some money Steve hadn’t known about tucked away in the bank.
And wasn’t this what she