by Leah Martyn
‘I’ll check again with CareFlight.’ Emma pulled out her mobile.
‘Hold it,’ Declan said clearly. ‘I’ll do the surgery here.’
Emma’s eyes flew wide in alarm. Did Declan realize what he was suggesting? Surely he was placing their patient’s life at risk if he didn’t know for certain whether he had the stamina to complete the operation? Should she try to intervene and stop him? ‘Declan—’
In an abrupt movement, he drew her aside. ‘I need you to back me on this, Emma. It’ll be a far better outcome for Jodi if she can have the surgery done here.’
But would it be the best outcome for him? Operating before he was ready could undo all the progress, both physically and emotionally, that he’d made. And she knew if she dug her toes in and refused to back him, he’d respect their professional partnership and stand aside and wait for the chopper. But what of Jodi? Poor little injured Jodi. The wait would be terrible. For all of them.
‘Emma, listen…’ he said, his jaw working. ‘I can do this.’
Emma closed her eyes, praying for courage, because this was the hardest decision she’d ever had to make in her life. Her heart pounded. She thought of her father and what he’d want her to do. He’d tell her to trust her instincts. She closed her eyes for one second and then snapped them open. ‘As long as you’re sure, I’ll back you.’
‘Thank you.’ Declan already had his mobile phone in his hand. He punched a logged-in number and waited to be connected. ‘Rachel? Declan. We’re still at the stables. The chopper’s a no-show. We’re bringing Jodi in now. I’ll do the surgery. I’ll have to pin and plate so I’ll need all orthopaedic trays sterilized and ready.’
‘Word of the RTA is all over the TV news,’ Rachel said. ‘I’ve gone ahead and anticipated your request.’
‘Brilliant—thanks.’ Declan felt a huge weight begin to slide from his shoulders. They could do this. ‘What nursing backup can we manage?’
‘Well, I’ll scrub, of course, and I’ve got Dot here. She’s theatre-savvy, even if she doesn’t get much practice these days.’
‘Oliver Shackelton lined up to gas for us?’
‘There we might have a slight problem.’ Rachel sounded cautious. ‘I called Oliver. He’s had flu, and he’s feeling too rocky to be in Theatre.’
‘So, we don’t have an anaesthetist?’ Declan just resisted thumping his fist against his forehead in frustration. What options did he have now to safely go ahead with Jodi’s surgery? ‘Just give me a second here, Rachel.’
Beside him, Emma got the gist of the conversation and wondered what unkind fate had singled her out today. She felt as though her professional integrity had been pushed to the limits. It wasn’t fair. Emotion, real and powerful, churned inside her. Could she take this last step that would enable Declan to operate? Could she afford not to? When did it become obligation to speak up? Was it safer to just stand aside and wait?
In her heart, she knew the decision had already been made for her.
‘Declan?’
Her fleeting touch in the small of his back had his gaze swivelling in her direction. He shrugged. ‘Looks like we’re stuffed,’ he said flatly. ‘Oliver can’t help.’
‘But perhaps I can.’ She looked unflinchingly at him. ‘I did my elective in anaesthesiology. I could probably manage. But it will be a long op. I’ll need Oliver’s input on dosage for longer-acting drugs. But if you think the whole thing’s too risky, I want you to pull out now.’
Declan shook his head. In his mind there were no doubts left and only three words to be said. ‘We’ll go ahead.’
Emma could hardly believe how smoothly their little hospital was coping with the emergency. She was still basking in a sense of pride as she finished scrubbing. The sound of a door swishing open sent her turning away from the basin and, by the time Declan had begun scrubbing beside her, she was drying her hands and asking sharply, ‘You OK?’
‘Yep.’ He sent her an abrupt look from under his brows and grinned. ‘Glad I had that extra X-ray equipment installed, though.’
‘Even though we’ll be paying for it for the rest of our lives.’
‘Oh, tut, Emma. We’ve managed so far, haven’t we?’
She had to admit they had. And she knew they were batting light conversation around because to get too serious now would be more than either of them could cope with. The decision to operate here had been made. They just had to make sure they gave it their all.
‘See you in there.’ She turned and left the annexe and crossed to the theatre. Rachel had prepared the anaesthetic trolley perfectly and Emma felt a rush of adrenalin she hadn’t experienced for the longest time.
She’d do a brilliant job for Jodi.
They all would.
The surgery took almost seven hours. Hours when Emma felt her skills were being tested mercilessly. Even though the monitors indicated Jodi was handling the anaesthetic well, Emma knew she couldn’t afford to relax her vigilance for a second. Time after time she raised her eyes to meet Declan’s, wanting reassurance, wanting anything to tell her they’d done the right thing. I’m fine, his look said, and he gave her the merest nod.
‘Thanks, team. Fantastic effort.’ Declan inserted the last suture in Jodi’s shin. He dressed the site with care and signalled for Emma to reverse the anaesthetic. ‘How’s our girl looking, Emma?’
‘She’s looking good,’ Emma said.
‘That’s what I like to hear.’ Above his mask, Declan’s eyes crinkled with tired humour. ‘OK, guys, would you mind finishing up here?’ He stepped back from the operating table, working his shoulders briefly. ‘I don’t want to keep Moira waiting for news any longer than necessary.’
‘I’m sure we don’t mind at all.’ Emma paused and then added barely audibly, ‘That was a fine piece of surgery, Declan.’
Declan’s eyes met hers and held. ‘You made it easy, Dr Armitage.’ With that, he turned on his heel and left the theatre.
Declan answered the clamouring of his aching back with a long hot shower. The whole day had begun to take on a surreal quality. The adrenalin rush he’d felt at the beginning of the operation had disappeared, leaving him flat. He didn’t dwell on it. Instead, he dressed quickly and went to meet Emma at the nurses’ station.
At his approach, Emma looked up and smiled. She had a lot to smile about. Jodi was in Recovery and doing well. ‘Apparently, there’s some dinner for us in the canteen. Betty’s made us her special Turkish lamb casserole,’ she said.
He raised his brows in mock awe. ‘We’d better have second helpings, then.’
‘Did you get all your follow-up done?’
‘I reassured Moira and left a few post-op instructions with the night sister. Jodi should be stable enough to make the transfer to the Royal late tomorrow. Her parents are flying back in the morning. They’ll make their base in Brisbane for the next few days and see their daughter settled in.’
Emma nodded. She had a dozen questions for him, about him, but none she could ask. Not yet. And maybe she wouldn’t have to ask them at all. Maybe, without her prompting, Declan would simply tell her what she wanted to know. Had to know.
They ate hungrily.
‘Not half bad,’ Declan said, finishing his meal and placing his cutlery neatly together on his dinner plate.
‘And so sweet of Betty to have made it especially for us.’ Emma sent him a half-smile. ‘Word’s got round pretty quickly that big things happened here today.’
‘Is that so?’
Emma stood up. ‘Cup of tea?’
‘Sounds good.’ He turned away as his mobile phone rang.
Emma placed their cups of tea on a tray, added some rosemary shortbread she’d raided from the nurses’ cookie jar and began making her way back to their table. It was late and they were the only ones left in the hospital canteen. Although he hadn’t said it, Declan must be feeling the strain of the day, she thought. The charcoal shadows around his eyes were a dead giveaway.
Well, they’d be h
ome soon. She’d hold him all night, smooth away the tensions, pleasure herself with the hardness of his body and the careless male beauty of his nakedness. They’d made love only this morning but it already felt like a year ago.
Her breath felt fluttery.
‘Drink up and we’ll make tracks.’ Declan’s brow furrowed. ‘I’ll drop you home and then take off. I need to wind down a bit and I want to make a call to Scotland. Have a chat to Angus Menzies at St Mary’s about today. Debrief, I guess.’
Why couldn’t he debrief with her? A look of disbelief scorched Emma’s gaze. Hell, she’d been there with him at the cutting edge. It was only because of her compliance that he’d been able to go ahead and perform the surgery at all. She couldn’t believe he wouldn’t want them to spend the night together. ‘You could do all that from Kingsholme.’
Of course he could. But he knew that would mean Emma would want him, expect him, to stay the night. To make love with her. How could he tell her he doubted if he was physically capable? The hours spent in surgery had left him with a burning pain in his lower back, his legs feeling as if he’d run a marathon. It was too soon to know if it would be an ongoing problem for him. But hell, what if it was? He gathered the strands of his tattered pride, raising an eyebrow at her. ‘I’ve got a bit to sort out. You know how it is.’
No, she didn’t know at all. Her confidence in their newfound commitment dropped to the floor. And stayed there like an unwanted garment that didn’t fit. Lifting a hand, she brushed an imaginary crumb from her bottom lip. ‘I’m ready when you are, then.’
They made their way in silence to his car. When they arrived at Kingsholme, Declan walked her to the door. ‘I thought we could meet up at the hospital in the morning. See Jodi together. Around eightish? Is that all right with you?’
‘Fine.’ Emma shrugged. ‘I hope you get your debrief.’
‘Mmm.’ He leant and placed a swift little kiss on her mouth and then stepped back. ‘Thanks for today,’ he said abruptly then walked away.
The house felt cold and unlived-in. Emma shivered. She went from room to room, switching on the lights. She could have a fire. But why bother? The empty feeling inside her was terrible.
What was going on with Declan? Physically, he appeared to have coped with the long stint in the OR. But he hadn’t enlightened her about how he was feeling. Surely she deserved more than the cursory thanks he’d offered? Unless—Emma felt a river of alarm run down her spine. Was he intending to walk away now he had his career back? He’d said she had to trust him, but just now her trust was wearing very thin. Gossamer-thin and fragile.
The next morning, there was no sign of Declan when Emma arrived at the hospital. She decided to go and visit Jodi without him. He’d made the arrangements. It was up to him to keep them. Or let her know if he couldn’t for some reason.
She found Jodi sitting up in bed, looking pale. Well, that was to be expected. The youngster had undergone major surgery. ‘Hi, sweetie.’ Emma pulled up a chair and sat down. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘I’ve been better.’ Jodi pulled a sad little clown’s face. ‘I so cannot believe what happened.’
‘They call them accidents, honey. All said and done, you were very fortunate.’
Jodi made a sound of disgust in her throat. ‘The guys got off scot-free.’
‘Except for getting the fright of their lives—and I think Mr McGinty will have a few hard words to say to them,’ Emma predicted soberly.
Hell. Declan dragged a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved sweatshirt out of the pile of clean laundry and dressed hurriedly. How on earth could he have slept in? He hadn’t heard the alarm. Well, what did he expect? He’d spent most of night wide awake before sleep had finally claimed him around 4:00 a.m.
And he hadn’t solved anything. He still felt caught in a sea of confusion. He felt bad about how he’d handled things with Emma last night. Or not handled them. With hindsight, he knew he should have told her how physically exhausted he’d felt. She would have understood. But then that would have opened another can of worms—should he have operated at all?
Now he was facing an even worse scenario. By the way he felt this morning—would he ever be able to operate again? Grabbing his jacket, phone and car keys, he stepped out into the chilly morning.
He wasn’t surprised to see Emma’s little four-by-four in the parking lot when he arrived at the hospital. He shook his head. She was always so reliable, did things by the book. Except for yesterday. His mouth twisted grimly. He knew that backing him to do the surgery had been a huge call for her. Right outside her comfort zone.
Entering the hospital, he flung a greeting at the nurse on duty at the station and made his way along the corridor to Jodi’s room. Taking a deep controlling breath, he knocked and entered.
‘Morning.’ Both women looked up. Emma held his gaze for a second, then looked pointedly away. He winced inwardly. She was cheesed off with him and he didn’t blame her. He picked up Jodi’s chart and studied it. ‘How’s our star patient this morning?’
Jodi managed a half smile. ‘I’m still here. I guess that’s a plus.’
‘A pretty big plus from where I’m standing.’ Declan raised his dark head. ‘And I dare say Emma feels the same. How’s the pain this morning, Jodi?’
‘Still hurts a bit.’
A lot, Declan interpreted, going on the night report. ‘I’ll up your pain relief. That should help.’
‘Nan says I have to go to Royal Brisbane. Is that really necessary?’
‘’Fraid so.’ Declan replaced the patient chart and pocketed his pen. ‘We don’t have the facilities to nurse you here, Jodi. Besides, you’re going to need some specialized rehab to get your legs back in working order.’
Emma squeezed Jodi’s hand. ‘You’re young and fit, Jodi. You’ll be back with us before you know it.’
‘And what about my legs?’ Jodi’s voice wobbled. ‘How badly hurt were they? Will I be able to ride again? Can I have the truth, please…?’
Emma glanced at Declan, then snatched her gaze away as if it hurt her eyes. ‘They’re probably questions for your surgeon,’ she said and held Jodi’s hand tightly.
‘I won’t keep the truth from you, Jodi.’ Declan slipped seamlessly into a role he knew so well. Dealing with the anxieties of post-surgery patients. ‘Your legs were pretty badly knocked about.’ At Jodi’s little gasp of dismay, he lifted a staying hand and went on, ‘But I’ve done this kind of operation dozens of times. You’re back together.’ He smiled then. ‘And almost as good as new.’
‘Oh—’ Jodi gave a little mew of relief.
‘If you work hard with your physio,’ Declan promised, ‘your fitness will return quite quickly.’
‘And my legs…Will…will they look…gross?’
‘Of course they won’t!’ Emma looked appalled. ‘I won’t regale you with the clinical details of the operation, but Declan did an amazing job. You’ll find there’ll be hardly any scarring at all.’
Jodi sent them a watery smile. ‘Thanks.’ She leaned back on her pillows, her look braver than before. ‘And what about my job at the surgery?’
‘Well, I don’t know about that.’ Declan rubbed his jaw as if considering a weighty problem. ‘What do you think, Emma?’
Emma did her best to join in the light-heartedness for Jodi’s sake. ‘Oh, I think we can muddle along until you can come back to us, sweetheart.’ She got to her feet. ‘Now, we’ll leave you in peace.’
‘Nan said she’d be in a bit later on.’ Jodi blocked a yawn. ‘Are you both coming in to see me off on the chopper?’
‘Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, would we?’ Emma placed a gentle hand on Jodi’s shoulder. ‘I’ll check with the nurses’ station about the ETA of the CareFlight chopper.’ She fluttered a wave in Jodi’s direction and made her way to the door. Declan followed closely behind.
Emma waited until they were outside the hospital before she asked, ‘You do intend being here to see Jodi safely off,
don’t you, Declan?’
He shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. ‘I…need to talk to you about that. Could we go somewhere for a coffee?’
Emma sent him a speaking look. ‘You mean you’ll actually make time for me?’
He hunched his shoulders and scrubbed at a pebble with the toe of his shoe.
‘Emma, this is very hard,’ he said. And she could see in the strained expression in his face how much he meant it.
‘It doesn’t have to be, does it?’ she countered, her throat tight. ‘You could just talk to me.’
‘I can’t—not yet. A lot’s happened over the last twentyfour hours. I need to find my own way through this. Please understand.’
Was he saying he couldn’t share his thoughts with her? Or was it something deeper? Her mouth drooped. Whatever it was, she knew she couldn’t push him any further. She glanced at her watch. ‘Rina Kennedy is reopening the garden centre today. I promised I’d go along. They’ve incorporated a food court in the refurbishment. We could get a coffee there.’
‘Fine,’ he agreed quickly. ‘I’ll follow you.’
The garden centre was already buzzing. Quashing her immediate problems, Emma looked around her. The townsfolk had come out in droves to support the Kennedys. And it was looking lovely. Very upmarket.
Declan touched her arm. ‘This looks like the coffee shop through here. Shall we get a table?’
Emma nodded, the well of emotion rising in her throat threatening to choke her. When they were seated, she picked up the menu and made a pretence of studying it. ‘Well, this is different,’ she joked thinly. ‘Fancy a wattle seed tea?’
Declan’s mouth twisted in the parody of a smile. ‘I’ll stick to coffee, thanks. But don’t let me stop you. What about some raisin toast to go with it?’
‘I’ll have a friand, I think.’ She turned to catch the eye of the waitress and blinked. ‘Oh, my goodness—there’s Tracey! She must work here.’ She was looking wonderful in her pristine white T-shirt and black pants covered by a dark green apron with the little shamrock embroidered on the front. Her hair was pulled neatly back and her smile was wide and welcoming as she approached their table.
