But was that still above water?
Emma had lost all sense of direction. All sense of time. Her body was ahead of her brain in shutting out the horror and her limbs felt heavy and lifeless. Powerless to assist Tom in any way, Emma just floated, aware of nothing but the strength of the arms holding her so tightly and the determination she could feel emanating from the owner of those arms.
If they could survive by sheer willpower, Tom was providing more than enough for both of them.
Emma was dimly aware of being outside the van because an icy wind sent an unbelievable chill right into the marrow of her bones and the noise from the helicopter hovering close overhead was deafening.
Tom was shouting but the instructions didn't seem to be for her, which was just as well because Emma's lips were too numb to move. Her eyelids drooped and she knew that the effort of trying to open them again would be too great. And maybe that was just as well because the image being cut off was that of the vehicle she'd just been trapped inside.
Somehow they were above it now but still very, very close. Close enough to be bumped and swayed as the van tilted sharply and then swung out into the whirls of the river's main current, with only its tyres visible.
Even the noise and shouting faded then but Emma clung to the sensation that was the only thing of importance.
The security of the arms still around her.
Holding her.
Keeping her alive.
* * *
Tom felt the instant that Emma went completely limp in his arms and something akin to anger took hold.
Had he just gone through the most dangerous rescue mission of his career only to fail? There had been no time to even assess the degree of trauma Emma had suffered to her lower leg. What if that piece of twisted metal had been tamponading an arterial bleed and he hadn't had the opportunity to prevent her bleeding to death in the tense minutes of getting her out of the van and winched up to the helicopter?
Time slowed and it seemed to take for ever to get her on board the aircraft and then to get himself inside. In less than a minute Terry had the chopper on safe ground but Tom was barely aware of landing. He was crouched over Emma, tilting her head back to ensure her airway was open. Trying to assess whether or not she was still breathing.
Josh was filling the rest of the space in the cabin.
'Carotid pulse,' he said, 'but no radial. What's your estimation of blood loss?'
'Too much.' Tom could see fresh blood loss on the shredded denim of Emma's jeans. He didn't need to remind Josh of the urgency of controlling the haemorrhage. His partner was already ripping open dressing and bandage packages.
Tom pulled down an oxygen mask and flicked the flow to full bore. He put the mask on Emma's face and eased the elastic behind her head.
'It's OK,' he told her. 'We're safe now, Emma. You're going to be fine.'
Her face was deathly pale, framed by the long, wet tresses of dark hair.
'She's hypothermic,' Tom warned Josh. 'I'll get a cardiac monitor on.'
'Can't feel any broken bones here.' Josh was taping the pressure bandage in place on Emma's leg. 'Could be just soft-tissue injury. How's her breathing?'
'Shallow,' Tom responded. 'But chest wall movement looks equal.' He had been waiting for the rotors of the helicopter to slow enough to make using a stethoscope useful. 'Sounds clear enough,' he reported moments later.
'Could be some abdominal trauma.' Josh had cut the top of Emma's jeans with shears and pulled the rest of her shirt clear. Tom felt his heart sink as he saw the ugly purple mark marring an expanse of perfect pale skin. If Emma had ruptured her spleen on top of losing blood from the injury to her leg, they may well be too late in starting a fight to prevent her slide into irreversible shock.
Fluids were needed, stat. Wide-bore lines—one in each arm. Pressure cuffs to get the fluid where it was urgently needed—to pump up blood volume and keep enough oxygen circulating to prevent cellular death.
She also needed rapid transport to hospital. The rotors of their aircraft were still turning as Terry kept the helicopter idling. As soon as he and Josh were happy that Emma was stable, they would take off again. With fluids running and the cardiac monitor revealing an overly rapid but normal pattern, take-off was only seconds away.
There had been another reason for landing near the collection of emergency vehicles dotting the lip of the river canyon, however.
'We need to get the kid,' Tom reminded Josh.
'But he's fine,' Josh responded. 'Not a scratch on him apparently. He could go by road.'
'No.' Tom shook his head. 'Mickey needs to come with Emma.'
What if she regained consciousness en route and the distress at having been separated from her child worsened the situation? If Tom had needed any persuasion to stick to his preferred option, it came when Emma's head rolled to one side and then back again. Her eyelids fluttered open and an arm trailing an IV line was raised as her hand reached towards Tom.
'Mickey...'
It was the only word Emma uttered but it was more than enough for Josh to nod agreement. He climbed out the rear door and was back in a very short time with a tiny boy clutched in his arms.
'Mickey's here,' Tom told Emma. 'He's coming with us.'
'Mummy!'
The word was lost in engine noise but it was easy to lip-read. Even easier to read the joy of reunion on that small face. Mickey was actually grinning as he caught sight of his mother. Way too small to match those huge, dark eyes and with a now nearly dry mop of tousled, black curls, Mickey had to be the cutest kid Tom had ever seen.
'Mummy's asleep just now,' he shouted carefully. 'She's not feeling too well and we're going to have another ride in the helicopter so that we can take her to the hospital.'
Fear clouded the dark eyes now and Mickey's bottom lip trembled. How much did the boy understand? With his disability, it was possible that the boy had had quite a lot of experience of hospitals. Maybe enough to know that some people who went into one never came out again?
'Mummy's going to be fine,' he added firmly. 'This is just another part of your adventure, OK?'
That earned him a suspicious stare and the reminder that Mickey had already declared his dislike of Tom. Still, the child made no protest as Josh strapped him into the seat. The extra passenger made it more awkward to work around Emma but it was a short trip of less than thirty minutes and Emma remained stable.
Better than stable, in fact. With at least the external bleeding controlled and rapid infusion of fluids, Emma's level of consciousness improved steadily. By the time she was lifted from the stretcher to the bed in the resuscitation area of the emergency department under the watchful gaze of the assembled trauma team, Emma was awake.
'Mickey,' she said anxiously. 'Where's my son?'
'He's being taken care of.' The doctor in charge of Emma's airway leaned over her reassuringly. 'Don't worry. We need to focus on you for a little while.'
There had been no chance to complete any of the paperwork a job like this generated but, having given all the information he could during the patient handover, Tom was only to happy to use the task as an excuse to stay in Resus, taking over an out-of-the-way corner of a bench.
He had to move a couple of times, to go behind the reinforced glass as X-rays were taken. He was still there when the ultrasound technician arrived with the equipment needed to examine Emma's abdomen.
Josh appeared right behind the bulky machine.
'I've got a date tonight, mate. If I'm late again, I'm going to be in big trouble. You're finishing the paperwork, aren't you?'
'Yeah. I just wanted to find out what the verdict is on Emma's leg. There's a surgical consult that shouldn't be too far away.'
'That'll take hours. You know what it's like around here. They haven't even started that ultrasound.' Josh gave Tom a curious glance. 'If you're that keen on following up, why don't you drop back in on your way home? After we've signed off.'
Tom could understand his pa
rtner's eagerness. They were at the end of four days of active duty and about to start their four days off. He was looking forward to the time off himself but he hadn't had a chance to talk to Emma again yet because of the level of activity around her bed. And he hadn't even been to check up on how young Mickey was doing.
Neither reason was any excuse to stay in the emergency department, of course, and if they'd been scrambled for another callout Tom would have gone instantly, without a backward glance.
Well, maybe he would have looked over his shoulder but that was perfectly understandable, wasn't it? This rescue had been a major incident. The thought of what could have happened if they'd failed could well come back to haunt him. It was no wonder Tom felt he needed a little more closure than normal.
His partner's curious glance had been slightly disturbing, however. Was Tom already involved on an emotional level? Emma was certainly a very attractive young woman and she had certainly impressed Tom with her courage but it wasn't as though he had any intention of getting more involved with a patient. She had a kid, for goodness' sake, and Tom found them an alien species as far as his social life was concerned. Not only that, she had come to New Zealand to find the kid's father and that hesitation she'd displayed in answering questions about friendship made Tom think that there was a lot more going on than Emma was revealing.
She must have ended the relationship if the guy still didn't know he had a son but it was pretty obvious things were far from over on Emma's side. Why else would she have come halfway across the world?
Tom shrugged off his reluctance to leave. He picked up the folder of paperwork and nodded at Josh.
'You're absolutely right, mate. It's time to go home.'
'You came back.'
'It was kind of on my way home and I wanted to see how you were doing.'
'Much better.' It wasn't hard to find a smile for Tom but Emma felt strangely shy. He looked very different without his uniform and helmet. Had she really registered what he'd looked like at all in the crisis during which they'd met? It was his voice she had recognised just now when she'd overheard him asking a nurse where she was.
Emma would remember that voice and its capacity to sound reassuring for the rest of her life. She would also remember the wonderful strength of his arms but everything else was a haze. Emma couldn't remember anything after the point they'd escaped the van. She'd looked for Tom when she had woken up enough in the emergency department only to be told that he'd gone and that he'd finished his shift so was unlikely to be back in the department that day. There'd been too much else going on to register disappointment but the pleasure Emma felt now on seeing him come through the curtain of the private area she was now occupying was well up the positive emotional scale.
'Anything still hurting?'
'Not really. Morphine's great stuff, isn't it?'
'What did they find on ultrasound?'
'My spleen's been bleeding a bit but it's not damaged enough to need removing. They reckon it's stopped bleeding now but they want to keep an eye on it for a day or two.'
'And your leg?'
'That's a bit more of a mess. I have to go to Theatre to have it cleaned out properly and stitched.'
'But nothing's broken?'
'No.'
'That's great. You should be up and around in no time.'
'I can't believe I'm going to be up and around at all.' Emma took a deep breath that escaped in a rather shaky sigh. 'You saved my life, Tom. I don't know how to say thanks.'
'You don't have to.'
'All in the line of duty, huh?' Emma caught Tom's gaze and could see perfectly well that her rescue had been something completely out of any normal line of duty. She could also see that he knew she knew that.
For a moment, the atmosphere was heavy as they held the eye contact and acknowledged the significance of what Tom had done.
Emma wasn't sure who smiled first. Maybe her, to try and show Tom how enormously grateful she was.
Or maybe it was Tom. Why would he have come back to the hospital to see her if he didn't want to revel in the satisfaction of an unusually successful mission?
But why did it feel like there was a rather different message being passed with that shared smile?
Emma dropped her gaze, suddenly embarrassed. She was feeling grateful, not attracted to the man, for heaven's sake! Never mind that she could still instantly summon the sensation of being held in his arms. He'd been rescuing her, not dancing with her!
'How's Mickey?'
'Hungry.' Emma smiled again, reliving the sheer relief of finding her son had been completely uninjured by the awful accident. And the miracle that she was still alive to care for him. 'They found him a wheelchair and a nice nurse has taken him to the cafeteria with her while she has her meal break.'
'Will they let him stay with you in hospital?'
'They'll have to.' A new and horrible fear reared its head. 'If he has to leave then I'm not staying.' She didn't like the frown on Tom's face. 'You think there'll be a problem with that?'
'I hope not. I know there's never any question of not letting a mother stay with a sick child. I've just never heard of the reverse happening. Unless it's a breastfeeding infant, of course.' Tom was still looking concerned. 'You're going to need to rest and concentrate on yourself for a little while. Is there nobody that could care for Mickey for you?' He cleared his throat. 'What about his... father?'
'No chance.' Emma turned her face away from Tom, dismissing the suggestion. 'I'll pick my own time to let him know about Mickey, thanks.'
That was something that would have to be handled very carefully.
'Besides, I don't even know if he's available.'
For Mickey or for her! Simon had been asking for her in the hospital in London where they'd met. He'd told someone he'd never forgotten her but that didn't necessarily mean he wanted her back in his life, did it? Even if he wasn't married any longer. Emma tried to squash the anxiety that had plagued the decision process in planning to come to New Zealand. She wouldn't want Tom to pick up an undertone and think she was totally desperate. Trailing around the world on the off chance of rekindling a past romance.
'He...travels quite a lot,' she added hastily.
'Right.' Tom sounded disinterested. In fact, he was edging away from her bed. 'Well, I'm glad you're feeling a bit better, Emma. I'll try and get in to see you again, maybe.'
He stepped further away. 'Let me know if there's anything I can do to help.'
His exit route was blocked by the arrival of the emergency department's nurse manager.
'Emma? I'm sorry. I've done my best but there just isn't the bed space to let Mickey stay in with you. We've got someone from Social Welfare coming in to discuss options.'
'What?' Dismay didn't begin to encompass the sinking sensation that hit Emma. 'No!'
'I'm sorry.' The nurse manager was looking at Tom as he reiterated his apology. Maybe he was looking for some moral support in having to enforce an unpalatable situation. 'I've really done my best.'
'No.' Emma pushed at the covers of her bed. 'I'm not having Mickey taken care of by strangers.'
Luckily, no one had raised the side of her bed. In her drug-induced, pain-free haze, it was remarkably easy to sit up and swing her legs over the side.
'Emma!' Tom sounded horrified. 'What do think you're doing?'
'I'm going to find my son.'
'You can't walk on that leg,' the nurse manager declared. 'You'll reopen the wound and start bleeding again. You could start bleeding internally again as well.'
'I really don't care.'
Likewise, Emma didn't care that she was being irrational and probably ridiculous. Her brain was too fuzzy to be able to articulate why it would be so unacceptable to have Mickey cared for by strangers, it was far easier to just give in to the overwhelming need to keep her child close by. They'd almost been ripped apart for ever only hours ago. Couldn't these people understand how important it was for them both to stay as close as possible
now?
'Emma—please, get back on the bed.' Tom was moving to help the nurse manager.
She pushed his hand away. 'No. I have to find Mickey. Where's the cafeteria?'
The curtain of the area Emma was in was pulled back to admit an orderly. 'All set to go up to Theatre?' he queried cheerfully.
'No!' Panic stepped in and brought tears to Emma's eyes. She covered her face with her hands to try and force them back. Getting hysterical was not going to help her win this battle.
'Emma?'
She knew it was Tom's hands holding her arms. Emma knew that touch well. 'What?'
'How 'bout if I hang around and look after Mickey for you? Would you go up to Theatre and get your leg sorted?'
'You can't do that.'
'Why not?'
The nurse manager's voice held the same tone as Emma's had. 'It's not just a babysitting stint,' he said. 'Emma's going to need to be kept in hospital for a few days, mate.'
'So? I've got four days off starting tonight. I can take Mickey home with me.'
Emma swallowed. Hard. She dropped her hands and turned a tear-streaked face up to Tom. 'You'd do that?'
'If that's what it takes to make you happy to stay and get the treatment you need.'
'Yes...but...'
'I'm not sure Social Welfare will be all that happy about this, Tom.' The nurse manager was staring at Tom with a very odd expression. 'You're not registered as a foster-parent. You're a single male. You're as much of a stranger as anyone else in Christchurch would be.'
'No.' Emma shook her head vigorously. 'Tom's not a stranger. He saved our lives. Mine and Mickey's.'
'But you don't know anything about him.'
'I know enough.'
The nurse manager shook his head. He raised his eyebrows eloquently. 'I suppose they'll make all the checks they feel they need to but, Tom, do you actually know anything about looking after kids?'
A Father Beyond Compare Page 3
