The Surgeon's Christmas Baby

by Marin Thomas

  “Let’s just say I’ve saved several lives where the people ended up dead a short time later, whether through no fault of their own or because they went right back to getting involved with whatever had brought them to the ER in the first place.”

  “Maybe you’ll feel different after this break from the hospital.” Hannah sensed he didn’t want to talk about his job anymore so she changed the subject. “The drugstore in town has an old-fashioned soda fountain if you want to wait there while I pick up the fence wire.”

  “Are you kidding? I’ve never been in a feed store. I have to see what all the excitement is about.”

  Hannah parked in front of the store, and a cowbell hanging on the door handle announced their presence when they entered.

  “Thought you might come in this week.” An older man with droopy shoulders stepped from behind the checkout counter.

  “Hey, Mel.” Hannah motioned to Alonso. “This is Alonso Marquez. Alonso, this is Mel McGinnis. He manages the store.” The men shook hands. “Alonso’s helping me out at the ranch while Luke’s away.”

  “Heard about your brother,” Mel said. “He’s had it rough since your daddy died.”

  Hannah had had it rough, too, but few acknowledged that. “Luke is fortunate the sheriff is giving him a second chance.”

  “What brings you in here?”

  “Extra fencing wire.” She wanted to be prepared if the vandals struck again and tore down a different section of her fence.

  “What else do you need?”

  “Just the wire. I’ll be back in a week or two to buy more horse feed.” Unfortunately, she no longer had the money to stock up on supplies. Hannah purchased what she needed when she needed it.

  “Be back in a jiffy with the wire.” He disappeared inside the storeroom.

  “There’s some fancy show-horse harnesses in that aisle.” Hannah pointed across the store and Alonso went over to examine the tack while she waited at the register. She had opened her mouth to tell him to check out the handmade bird feeders a local resident sold on consignment when the sound of a ladder hitting the floor and a loud thump echoed through the store.

  “Mel!” Hannah raced into the storeroom. Mel had fallen off the ladder and lay buried beneath sacks of livestock feed.

  “Call 911.” Alonso pushed past Hannah and began lifting the feed bags off Mel’s chest.

  Hannah hoped Mel hadn’t broken any bones. She dialed Doc Snyder’s number, knowing he could help Mel faster than the paramedics. “It’s Hannah, Doc. Are you at the clinic right now?”

  “I’m in Albuquerque seeing a doctor about my hip. What happened?”

  “Mel fell off a ladder in the storeroom.”

  “Is he breathing?”

  Hannah covered her phone. “Alonso, is Mel breathing?” He nodded.

  “Yes, he’s breathing,” she said.

  “Contact the fire department in Cañon City. I’ll follow up with him when I return tomorrow.”

  She disconnected the call then pressed 911 and requested the paramedics.

  “How long before they get here?” Alonso asked.

  “Cañon City is about forty-five minutes away.”

  The old man moaned and Alonso placed a hand against his chest. “Don’t move, Mel.” He didn’t want a broken rib to puncture a lung or his heart. He checked for broken bones, starting at the ankle. Everything appeared fine until he touched Mel’s shoulder and the man cried out.

  “Your shoulder is dislocated.” Mel’s face turned ashen and his breathing grew rapid and shallow. Alonso worried the old man would go into shock if he didn’t get the pain under control. “I need to put your shoulder back in place.” Then he could wrap the joint in ice and numb the pain, which hopefully would help Mel’s blood pressure return to normal.

  Hannah knelt on the other side of the old man. “Alonso’s an ER doctor, Mel. You can trust him.”

  Mel nodded, then closed his eyes.

  “Squeeze as hard as you want,” Hannah said, holding Mel’s hand in both of hers.

  Being as gentle as possible, Alonso worked the frail bone back into place, then said to Hannah, “Find some ice and an elastic bandage if you can.” After she left the room, Alonso checked Mel’s pulse. Slow but steady. He felt the man’s rib cage. “Does it hurt to breathe?”

  “A little.”

  “You need to have your ribs X-rayed.”

  Hannah returned with a bag of ice from the machine outside on the porch and Vetrap horse-bandaging tape. Alonso opened the ice, poured half in the trash can, then tied off the end of the bag. He moved Mel’s arm so it rested across his stomach, then secured the bag of ice to his shoulder with the wrap.

  “Maybe you can find a blanket and something to use for a pillow,” Alonso said.

  Hannah grabbed a handful of saddle blankets from the shelf and Alonso made Mel as comfortable as possible, but it was obvious by the old man’s grimace that he was in a lot of pain. “How long have we been waiting?”

  “Thirty-five minutes.”

  Alonso heard the faint wail of a siren in the distance. “They’re almost here, Mel,” he said.

  When Fire and Rescue showed up, they took Mel’s vitals then started an IV.

  “Mel.” Hannah spoke close to his ear. “I’ll call Harriet and have her meet you at the hospital in Cañon City.”

  Mel lifted his uninjured arm and Alonso held his hand. “Thank you, young man.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “Don’t worry about the store. I’ll ask Sheriff Miller to lock up,” Hannah said.

  The paramedics wheeled Mel outside and loaded him into the rescue truck. After they drove off, Alonso helped Hannah straighten the store. “Will you carry this for me?” She handed him the fencing wire. “Sheriff Miller said he’d be here in a few minutes to lock the store. I think it’s okay if we leave now.”

  Alonso put the wire in the truck bed. “You want to drive?”

  “Sure.” Hannah slid behind the wheel but before she drove out of town she said, “Things could have turned out a lot differently for Mel if you hadn’t been here.”

  “He’s a tough old bird. He’ll be okay.”

  “I know, but I still think you saved the day.”

  “Hey, I’m no superhero.”

  She clasped his face between her hands and kissed him. “Paradise has its very own Captain America.”

  Chapter Seven

  “I need to stop at the convenience mart,” Alonso said after Hannah drove away from the feed store.

  “Sure.”

  When she pulled into the parking lot of the store, he asked, “Do you need anything?”

  “No, thanks. I’ll wait in the truck.”

  Alonso grabbed a large soda then strolled through the aisles searching for the prophylactics. He had two choices: the date-night size containing three condoms or the stud size thirty-six count. There was only one choice for Captain America—he grabbed the bigger box. After Hannah’s kiss a few minutes ago he’d decided he was done fighting the attraction between them. She wanted him in her bed so that was where he intended to sleep until he left at the end of the month. But this time he was taking precautions, unlike the night they’d spent up in the hayloft.

  When they arrived back at the ranch, Hannah made supper while Alonso loaded the hay bales onto the flatbed trailer. Afterward he grabbed a clean change of clothes, shoved three condoms into his jeans pocket, then went into the house, where the smell of bacon greeted him. Hannah stood at the sink washing a head of lettuce, her fanny twitching to an oldies tune on the radio.

  “Do I have time to shower?” he asked.

  She jumped.

  “Sorry.” He dragged his gaze from her backside. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  Her smile more
than forgave him. “Supper won’t be ready for a half hour.”

  He lifted the lid on the Crock-Pot. “Smells good.”

  “Cheesy chicken, bacon and Tater Tots.”

  “Is this your recipe?”

  “Found it on the internet.”

  He set the lid back in place, then nuzzled her ear. “I think I’ll call you my Crock-Pot princess.” He left the kitchen, Hannah’s stare burning into his back.

  He’d just finished shampooing his hair when a cold draft floated across his naked backside. Before he had time to register that he wasn’t alone, Hannah’s fingers walked down his spine. His breath caught in his chest when she sneaked her hands around his waist then slid her palms down the front of his thighs. When she cupped him intimately, he braced his hands against the shower wall and clenched his teeth. He let her have her fun for a minute, but the need to have her again had been building inside him since the first time they’d made love, and he couldn’t wait any longer.

  He turned around and reached for her, holding her against him, letting their wet skin rub together in all the right places. “I bought condoms at the store today. They’re in my jeans pocket.”

  “Good.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him.

  “Are you sure, Hannah?” He brushed her damp hair away from her eyes.

  “Very sure.” She pressed tiny kisses across his chest. Her tender caresses made him feel safe. In Hannah’s arms he believed he could conquer anything—a heady feeling for a man who’d been fighting a losing battle for a long time.

  * * *

  HANNAH PULLED HER sweater tighter around her as she sat in the rocking chair on the front porch and sipped a glass of wine while she waited for Alonso to return from checking the stock tanks.

  Two weeks had passed since she’d joined him in the shower and they’d fallen into a comfortable routine, one Hannah wished could last forever. Alonso woke early and drove the hay out to the herd while she slept in—a luxury she hadn’t experienced in years. Then he spent the rest of the day fixing things around the property that she’d neglected because she hadn’t had the time or the money to hire someone to make the repairs. And most important, he’d installed the new solar panel she’d ordered for the water station, so now water could be pumped to all the stock tanks on the property.

  While Alonso kept busy, Hannah worked inside the house. She’d given the rooms a thorough cleaning, even dusting the baseboards and ceiling lights. Once all the rooms sparkled, she paid bills, balanced the ledger, transferred money from savings to checking, and when the tax bill came in the mail she cashed in the last CD her father had in the bank.

  At the end of each day, she and Alonso talked over supper—about everything and anything, except their relationship. After cleaning up the dishes they snuggled on the couch and watched TV until one of them grew bored and began pestering the other. One kiss led to more, and then clothes came off and they made love. Afterward, Alonso carried her to bed, where they fell into an exhausted sleep.

  But every morning Hannah woke up in an empty bed—a reminder that their relationship was temporary. After showering she’d fix a fresh pot of coffee, then sit on the porch and wait for Alonso to return from feeding the bison. Some mornings he grabbed a cup of coffee and sat with her, and other times he’d take her by the hand and lead her back up to the bedroom.

  The sound of a horn honking drew her attention and she spotted a dust cloud moving along the road. She set her wineglass down and descended the porch steps. As the vehicle sped closer she recognized Seth’s pickup. He honked the horn again—this wasn’t a social visit.

  He stopped the truck in the driveway. “Where’s the city slicker?”

  Maybe he’d been drinking. “What’s wrong?”

  “One of our ranch hands tried to rescue a deer caught in the fence and got chewed up pretty bad by barbed wire. He needs a doctor.”

  “Who?”

  “Joseph.”

  “Why didn’t you take him to Doc Snyder or to the emergency room in Cañon City?”

  “He’s bleeding bad. And since I found him along your property line, I figured it was faster to bring him here and let your boyfriend do his magic.”

  Alonso wasn’t her boyfriend, but she didn’t bother correcting Seth. She rushed over to the truck bed and winced when she saw the cowboy’s bleeding body resting on a blanket.

  “I put a tourniquet on his arm, but he’d lost a lot of blood by the time I found him.”

  “Alonso’s out with the herd.” As soon as she spoke, her truck crested the ridge and headed toward the house. “Here he comes now.”

  Alonso parked next to Seth’s pickup. “What’s going on?”

  “One of the Los Pinos ranch hands is injured,” she said.

  Alonso peered into the truck bed, then hopped over the tailgate and felt for the man’s pulse. “Bring me another blanket and a pillow.” After Hannah raced into the house, he examined the man’s wounds. “What happened to him?”

  “Tangled with some barbed wire.”

  “Where’s the nearest trauma center?” Alonso asked.

  “Cañon City, but they’re doing construction on the road and the detour takes an hour,” Seth said.

  “He tore the basilica vein on the inside of his arm. It needs to be sutured and he’s lost too much blood already.”

  Hannah returned with the supplies. “Where are we going?” she said.

  “Call Doc Snyder and tell him to meet us at the clinic.” Alonso covered the man with the blanket and shoved the pillow beneath his head. The cowboy groaned but remained unconscious. Markham hopped back in the cab and took off, and Hannah followed in her pickup.

  The sun dipped behind the horizon and a gust of cold wind sent a chill through Alonso. He tucked the blanket tighter around the man. The brisk temperatures reminded him of the night he’d lost three fellow soldiers. Just like the scenarios he faced in the ER, his skill at saving his friends’ lives had been wasted that fateful, frigid evening.

  The truck hit a pothole and his butt smacked against the bed, jarring his tailbone and his thoughts back to the present. The town lights glowed in the distance as they approached Paradise. Both trucks parked behind the clinic where the back door had been propped open. Alonso checked the patient’s pulse—weak but steady.

  “What happened?” An elderly man stepped outside, wearing latex gloves.

  “Joseph Rodriguez tangled with barbed wire,” Markham said, stepping out of the truck. “I had to put a tourniquet on his arm.”

  Doc Snyder came over to the truck and Alonso got his first good look at the country doctor. The old man’s face was as wrinkled as a paper road map—just how old was this guy?

  “Doc, this is Alonso Marquez,” Hannah said.

  “You did a fine job putting Mel’s shoulder back in place the other day.”

  “Thanks.” Alonso helped Markham carry Joseph into the clinic and place him on an exam table in one of the patient rooms. Then Doc pressed his stethoscope against Joseph’s chest.

  “Weak heartbeat. He’s lost a lot of blood.”

  “He tore the basilica vein,” Alonso said.

  “Hannah said you’re an ER doctor.”

  Alonso nodded.

  “Good. I can use your help.” He held out a bag of saline and Alonso started an IV in Joseph’s uninjured arm. “I’ll need you to do the suturing.” If Alonso hadn’t been staring intently at the old man’s hands he might not have noticed the slight tremble. Old age was catching up with the doctor, and it was too risky for him to close the vein—one slight tremor and the doctor would sever the vein wall and the cowboy would bleed out.

  Doc nodded to Seth and Hannah. “You two wait in the front room.”

  Alonso cleaned the blood around the wound so he had a better view of the vein while Doc gave Joseph a sh
ot.

  “That’ll knock him out for a while.” Then Doc handed Alonso a suture kit.

  First, Alonso numbed the area with medication, then he worked quickly to stitch the wound closed. He finished in less than a minute.

  “Haven’t seen anyone close a vein that fast in my entire career.”

  “I’ve had plenty of practice. First in the Army and then in Albuquerque at the university hospital.”

  Doc pressed his fingers against Joseph’s wrist. “Pulse is improving. Let’s see if any of the other cuts need stitches.”

  Alonso cleaned and bandaged several wounds on the man’s face, neck, arms and hands. Two of the abrasions needed stitches. Then Doc administered a tetanus shot and a round of antibiotics. “He’ll sleep for a while.” He pulled a chair closer to Joseph and sat.

  “Shouldn’t he be transported to the hospital?” If the stitches didn’t take and the vein opened again, the man would bleed out on the table.

  “That’s why I’m sitting with him.”

  Alonso swallowed a curse. What good would it do for Doc to stay by the man’s side when he couldn’t hold a needle steady? Alonso took a seat in the other chair by the door.

  Doc’s mouth lifted in a tired smile. “I’m glad you were here, Alonso.”

  “It’s no big deal.”

  “I couldn’t have repaired the vein with my hands. You saved his life tonight.”

  Alonso had saved a lot of lives, but too many of them hadn’t valued their second chance and had ended up dead.

  “Joseph’s a good man.”

  “Tell me about him.” Alonso was surprised he’d asked the question. He rarely knew anything personal about the patients he worked on.

  Doc tapped the gold band on Joseph’s right ring finger. “He’s the father of five children. His wife died of cancer. Joseph’s mother helps care for the kids while he works two jobs.”

  “That’s rough.”

  “He punches cows during the week for Seth and his father, then on the weekend he’s a roughneck for the oil and gas companies.” Doc smiled. “His family means everything to him.”