A middle-aged woman stepped from the crowd of horrified onlookers and took Toby’s hand. The child had been standing white-faced and shocked as Hugo and Rachel had worked. ‘Come on, love,’ she told him. ‘Come with me while Daddy looks after Kim.’
Kim…
Rachel looked up to the girl’s deathly white face. Kim’s eyes were open but it wasn’t clear whether she was conscious or not.
‘You’ll be OK, Kim,’ she told her, taking the opportunity to take the girl’s hand in hers. What she’d most need now would be reassurance. Not panic. ‘We needed to hurt you a bit to stop the bleeding but we’re both doctors. We know what we’re doing. The bleeding’s stopped now.’
The girl’s eyes widened. She was conscious.
‘Mum… Knickers…’
‘Someone find the Sandersons,’ Hugo ordered. ‘It’s OK, Kim. We’ll find your mum and dad now, and Knickers is with the vet. You know Rob will look after Knickers just as I’ll look after you.’
The flaring panic in the girl’s eyes subsided. They were winning. Kind of. For now.
But…was one of the reasons the bleeding had eased because the blood pressure itself had dropped?
‘She hasn’t lost too much,’ Hugo muttered, and Rachel realised he was thinking the same as she was.
Too much blood…
There was certainly a lot. Rachel herself was covered with a spray of gore. She was wearing only a bra above the waist and she looked like something out of a vampire movie. Paramedics were supposed to wear protective clothing, she thought ruefully. If Kim had any sort of blood-borne disease, then she and Hugo were now also infected.
They couldn’t care. Not now.
Hugo was swabbing the girl’s arm and Rachel moved to get a syringe. By the time Hugo had the line ready she was prepared.
‘Five milligrams morphine?’
‘Yeah, and then saline. We need plasma. Hell, where’s the ambulance?’
It was here. There was a shout and then someone was pushing through the crowd. A couple of ambulance officers.
Rachel almost wept with relief. They’d have plasma, saline-everything Hugo needed.
They’d take over. This wasn’t her place. She could go back to being a horrified onlooker.
But…
‘Your husband’s a cardiologist?’ She’d gone back to applying pressure as Hugo inserted an IV line.
Her husband? She stared blankly and then realised who he was talking about. Michael, her husband. What a thought! But now wasn’t the time for fixing misconceptions. ‘Yes.’
‘Thank God for that.’
‘Sorry?’
‘I’m the only doctor in town,’ he told her. ‘Can you ask someone to find him? He’ll be able to help.’
‘He was catching the helicopter back to Sydney,’ Rachel said blankly.
‘There’s a helicopter’s taking off now,’ a voice said helpfully. ‘You can hear it.’
He’d left? Michael had left?
Maybe he hadn’t even noticed what had happened. Rachel had stalked out and it’d be just like Michael to have left as well. He’d have heard the dogfight but he wouldn’t have turned to investigate. She knew him well enough after this weekend to know he wouldn’t deviate from his chosen plan for anyone.
‘He’s taken the helicopter?’ Hugo searched the crowd to find the farmer who’d been the first to offer his shirt. ‘OK, it’ll have to come back. Matt, get onto the radio. Get the chopper returned here. Tell the pilot we need priority. Kim needs emergency surgery if we’re to save this leg. She needs vascular surgeons. We need to evacuate her-now!’
‘Will do,’ Matt muttered, and ran.
There was a crowd of about twenty onlookers around them now, but it wasn’t the sort of crowd you saw in city accidents, Rachel thought. There was horror on everyone’s faces. They all knew Kim. They were all desperate to help.
Rachel was the only woman who’d stripped to her bra but she knew without asking that each and every one of these women would do the same and more if they needed to. Their care and concern were palpable.
Then Kim’s parents were there, running toward their daughter across the showgrounds. Their fear reached the group on the ground before they did, but Kim had drifted into unconsciousness. The combination of shock, blood loss and painkillers had sent her under. Good, Rachel thought as her mother disintegrated into tears, sobbing onto her chest. The horror on her parents’ faces would only have made things worse.
Enough. There was nothing more she could do now. One of the paramedics had taken her position, keeping pressure on the wound. She rose. A buxom woman in floral Crimplene put her arm around her and held. Rachel wasn’t complaining. She was grateful for the support.
‘Who are you?’ Hugo asked. He was adjusting a bag of plasma, the ambulance officers were helping. Rachel wasn’t needed.
‘Rachel. Rachel Harper.’
‘You’re a doctor?’
‘Yes.’
‘You’re not a vascular surgeon, I suppose?’
‘I wish.’ She knew exactly what he was thinking. A vascular surgeon was what they needed, urgently. The chances of saving Kim’s leg were incredibly slim. ‘But Michael has the skills. And he’s still in range.’
He’d be upset at being called back but he had no choice.
‘OK.’ He stared up at her for a moment longer, his intelligent eyes assessing. Each knew what the other was thinking. They couldn’t voice it here-not in front of Kim’s parents-but if the femoral artery wasn’t repaired fast, Kim would lose the leg if not her life.
They needed the helicopter. They needed Michael. Kim’s future depended on it.
There was nothing Rachel could do, though.
For now she was no longer needed.
Mrs Keen, the lady in the Crimplene, ushered Rachel into the showground caretaker’s residence. As the ambulance screamed its way to the hospital she was already under hot water while Mrs Keen tut-tutted about the state of her clothes.
‘And the clothes in your bag are no better,’ she told Rachel through the bathroom door. ‘One of the men brought your bag over but you’ve dropped it, and then used everything to stop the bleeding. Oh, my dear, there’s blood on everything.’
That was a minor worry. For now Rachel couldn’t care. She let the hot water steam away the gore and she worried about the girl. Worried about the leg.
Michael would be really angry at being recalled. He’d hate to miss out on the Witherspoon case.
It couldn’t matter. He wouldn’t have heard the dogfight, she decided. Michael Levering saw only the things that affected him. He was needed in Sydney for a prestigious patient and Rachel wasn’t doing what he wanted. He’d have simply turned on his heel and stalked away. As for Rachel and Penelope-others could pick up the pieces. If Rachel didn’t take his expensive dog and his expensive car back to Sydney, well, Michael had the money to send a lackey to the country to collect them later in the week. Dog-show organisers were hardly likely to let Penelope starve and even if they did…
Penelope was just a possession.
‘Damn the man.’
She was shaking, a combination of anger and reaction to the whole situation. They’d been really, really lucky to save Kim’s life.
Michael would be back. The helicopter would have returned by now and, dislike Michael as she did, she had to concede he possessed the skills she didn’t. He was an incredibly competent vascular surgeon. He might not have noticed the dog fight but if they planned to evacuate Kim on his helicopter, he would, of course, treat her. And with Hugo as back-up…
She washed the last trace of blood from her arms as Mrs Keen’s face appeared around the door. Her cheeks were crimson with embarrassment and distress.
‘My dear, I’m sorry to disturb you but you’re needed back at the hospital. Dr McInnes has just rung. The helicopter’s refused to turn around,’ she told her. ‘Dr McInnes says he has to operate now or she’ll lose the leg, and you’re all the help he has.’