Hard Rain

by Darlene Scalera

  Jesse nodded. “It did.”

  Jesse’s answer brought a long look from the man. “You were there?”

  “We went down looking for Clare’s boy Michael and his friends. Michael’s brother, Shane, had called to let me know the boys had taken off for the coast with their surfboards strapped to the car’s roof.”

  The older man glanced at his son. “You know anything about that?”

  “A few of the boys were talking at football practice the day before, saying if the storm came, they should ditch practice and ride some big ones.” The boy shrugged. “But practice was cancelled anyway yesterday. That’s all I heard.”

  “And you two got stuck on the coast?” The man shook his head. “I’m glad you made it back to us in one piece, Sheriff. And you too, ma’am.”

  Amy extended her hand. “Amy Sherwood.”

  “Dr. Sherwood came in with the others from Courage Bay to give a hand during recovery,” Jesse explained.

  “God bless ya, Doc.” The man pumped her hand. “We do pretty good on our own two feet but are always glad to have another pair of willing hands. I’m Tom Roscoe and this is my eldest, Alex. Wasn’t much Chief Kannon and the volunteers could do last night when the storm reached us, but Turning Point will sure be grateful now for every extra pair of hands we can get.”

  “How’s your house, Tom? Storm do any damage?”

  “Knocked an elm on the shed and tried to shake the house off its foundation, but thank God, she stood firm. Helen didn’t wait to see if the storm would turn or peter out into a tropical. As soon as she heard Category Four, she grabbed the girls and they headed to her sister’s house in Charlotte. Alex and I stayed behind to haul things to the upper floors, nail plywood over the windows.” He looked at his shop. “All in all, we were pretty lucky, I’d say. How’d your property make out?”

  Jesse shook his head. “Not so well, I’m afraid. Not much left but a lot of waste to be hauled away.”

  “Sheriff, I’m sorry to hear that you were hit hard.” Tom’s eyes darkened with concern.

  “Houses can be rebuilt.”

  “That’s right. We’ll gather up all of Turning Point and have an old-fashioned barn-raising. We’ll have a roof over your head in a weekend.”

  Jesse smiled. “In the meantime, how about I give you a hand cleaning up?”

  “Thanks, Sheriff, but I’ve got the boy here. We can manage just fine. I’m sure Chief Kannon needs you more than we do.”

  “That’s where we’re heading,” Jesse said. “Dr. Sherwood will be at the first-aid station set up at the firehouse if you come across anyone requiring medical attention. I’m going to check in at the firehouse, then head back out.”

  “Doesn’t look like Gladys made out too good,” the barber observed, pointing out the twisted metal frames once filled with plate-glass windows. Diva Dominion—the sign Amy had enjoyed yesterday as they’d passed by in the van—was gone. Domed metal hair dryers lay across the street among two-by-fours and shattered glass, their helmets upside down and full of water.

  “Better get going,” Jesse said, unsmiling.

  When they reached the fire station, they found it unharmed except for the water covering the parking lot. The other town buildings had also escaped damage.

  Amy and Jesse parked and waded through the deep puddles. The buzz of generators greeted them, and they saw that the bays for the emergency vehicles were empty.

  “They’re either responding to calls or out patrolling, looking for downed power lines, sewage and water main breaks. No one should have been on the road, but still, motorists could have gotten caught in the flash flooding,” Jesse noted.

  In the front hall of the station house, several men slept on cots. Ruth, the dispatcher, set down a coffee cup and rose to meet Amy and Jesse.

  “Damn, now there’s a sight for sore eyes. After you two headed to the coast, all hell broke loose. Good to see you, Sheriff. Doc.” Smiling broadly, Ruth looked from Jesse to Amy. “How you two doing?”

  “We survived,” Jesse answered. “How’s things here?”

  “Emergency workers have already been mobilized, heading out to the harder hit areas. Our squads are out now assessing the situation. Not much we could do last night when Damon hit but head for shelter, sit on our behinds and curse the damn storm. And that’s exactly what we did, although I had to practically threaten to go out and hogtie that stubborn chief of ours before I could get him to head to the shelter.”

  “If there’s anyone he’d listen to, it’d be you, Ruthie,” Jesse said.

  Amy saw a faint blush steal across the stern lines of the woman’s face.

  “Storm wasn’t even supposed to strike here, but guess it got a good look at us and decided to say howdy. We only got the tailwind but that was enough.”

  “What about serious injuries?” Amy asked. “Any casualties?”

  “Had to chopper Bill Thompson out to the hospital in Alice to check his heart, but the only casualties reported so far have been material,” the dispatcher answered. “Had a scare with a member of your team.” She looked at Amy. “The trauma nurse.”

  “Cheryl?” Amy felt the blood drain from her face.

  “She was coming back from a call and got lost trying to take a shortcut. She was on that old bridge not far from where the Hansen barn burned down ten years ago.”

  Jesse nodded in recognition.

  “She was on the radio to the chief, trying to get directions. He told her to get off the bridge. He heard something cracking, the woman screaming. Then we lost the connection. Chief was afraid the current had taken her. He and a team searched for hours.”

  “Oh, my God.” Amy covered her mouth with her hand in horror. “But she’s all right?”

  Ruth nodded. “Noah Arkin got through on the radio just a little while ago. He was heading to his clinic with a truck full of animals when he saw the car being swept down the river. He jumped in and pulled her out just before the vehicle went under. Says she was unconscious, but her pulse and breathing were steady. The road back to town was already washed out so he took her to his clinic until the storm passed.”

  “I thought Turning Point’s only doctor was in Houston recovering from a heart attack?” Amy asked, confused.

  “He is. Noah’s a veterinarian,” Jesse explained. “You say the woman’s okay?”

  “Noah said she was disoriented when she finally came to. Hit her head pretty hard in the fall and at first couldn’t remember anything. Not even her name.”

  “Amnesia?” Amy asked.

  “Only temporary. By the time Noah was able to radio in, he said her memory was starting to return. Other than a few bruises, he says she’s okay, but the roads are still flooded out, making travel impossible. Hope they’ll be clear by morning.”

  “What about the other members of the team?” Amy asked.

  “The paramedic that went up with Jolene to Rock-a-Bye Ranch—”

  “Nate?”

  “Don’t remember the fella’s name—”

  “Nate Kellison,” Amy said.

  “They had a little trouble when they got to Lily’s. The baby was breech, but between the two of them, the delivery turned out successful. Little girl. Weighed more than nine pounds.”

  Jesse whistled low.

  “And Lily fretting about bringing their prize bull in before the storm hits.”

  “The one Gabe just brought home?”

  Ruth nodded. “The animal was out on the open range. They lose him and there goes the breeding program. Jolene told Lily she’d bring the bull home. The paramedic thought both of them were crazy, but he was determined to go out with Jolene to search for the animal. Then the storm hit. We haven’t heard anything since, but ten chances to one, they saw the storm coming in and holed up at Jolene’s ranch next door. Don’t worry, Doc, if your friend is with the chief’s daughter, he’s in good hands.”

  “And vice versa,” Amy added.

  “Good enough.”

  “Still, the ch
ief must be worried sick about his daughter.”

  “I’m sure he is, but he’s not one to let on.”

  “What about Micky Flynn?” Jesse asked.

  “He and the female firefighter—”

  “Dana?” Amy interjected.

  Ruth nodded. “They brought that bunch of Boy Scouts in. Micky made Dana go back to his place for a break. You just missed them. Most of the rest of the volunteers are out also. It’s slow going. The outer areas to the south were hit hardest by the flooding.”

  “I’m heading out myself now,” Jesse said. “Uncle Frank and Clare’s boy Michael were on their way in when I left their place.”

  “How’d they make out from the storm?”

  “It missed them.”

  “There’s good news. How ’bout your place?”

  “Well…I was always talking about remodeling. Now I’ll have the chance.” Jesse downplayed the loss of his house, uncomfortable with other people’s concern.

  A burst of static sounded from the office off the main room. “We got the auxiliary radio going but it goes in and out, uncooperative as my first husband.”

  As if on cue, the radio crackled again. A disembodied male voice filled the room. “One of the volunteers slipped with a chain saw. Avulsion to the lower left extremity. Tissue torn away from the body. Possible nerve damage.”

  “Let them know I’m back,” Amy instructed the dispatcher. “Have him ambulanced here to the first-aid station.”

  Ruth complied, relaying the instructions to the rescue worker on the other end of the call. When he signed off, Ruth turned to Amy and Jesse. “They’re on their way.”

  Amy started toward the door.

  “I’ll be right back,” Jesse told the dispatcher. He followed Amy. Once outside he called her name. She stopped and turned to him.

  “I’m going to head out myself shortly,” he said. He moved toward her. “If you need anything, have the dispatcher radio me.”

  She nodded.

  “I’ll see you when I get back in. I’ll probably be bunking down in my office temporarily. You’ll be here?”

  She nodded again. He stood as if he had something more to say. She waited for him to continue. He gazed at her but said nothing.

  “Amy…” He could not continue.

  She smiled and laid her palm on his cheek, dark with a day’s growth of beard. “I know, Jess. We need time to talk. Time we don’t have right now. I hope we’ll have a whole lifetime to figure this out.”

  He leaned down and kissed her lips.

  “In the meantime,” she whispered to him, “I’ll be here, waiting.”

  They heard the siren’s wail. He kissed her once more, deeper, harder, then let her go.

  An appetizing smell surprised Amy as she opened the door where Cheryl had set up the first-aid station. A large pot of soup simmered on a camp stove. Amy familiarized herself with the triage area, finding bandaging and splinting equipment, examination instruments, tubing, catheters, oxygen, saline. She had finished scrubbing up and was pulling on sterile gloves when the rescue squad members wheeled in the patient, giving Amy his vitals as they brought him in.

  “Direct pressure didn’t stem the bleeding,” one of the attendants said. “We had to use a tourniquet.”

  Amy checked the pressure and placement of the cuff, then cleansed the skin around the wound with a hydrogen peroxide solution and irrigated the deep gash with saline. She looked for any shards of glass or wood embedded in the cut and tested for nerve, artery and muscle function. The man’s color was pale but his blood pressure and pulse were stable.

  From the supplies, Amy extracted a syringe. “I’m going to give you something for the pain,” she said, deftly filling the needle and administering the medication. “Then I’ll numb the wound itself and close it with stitches. There is some damage to the connective tissue envelope around the muscle so I’ll stitch that up as well.” She looked the man directly in the eyes. “Afterward, you’ll need to keep the area clean and dry to prevent infection. The stitches will come out within a week to ten days, but it takes six weeks or more for the cut to heal fully. And you’ll need a tetanus shot.”

  She saw the man’s facial muscles relax as the painkiller took effect. “Any questions?” She smiled her reassurance.

  “Just fix me up, Doc, and I’ll be grateful.”

  “All right.” Amy reached for the local anesthetic. “Let’s do it.”

  Shortly after she’d finished stitching the man’s wound, other patients began to arrive. Many came grudgingly, prodded by a spouse’s nagging. Most were certain they didn’t need a doctor’s care and were only wasting time when they could be useful elsewhere. Amy pointed out more than once that they would be useful to no one if they neglected their health. Fortunately, most of the injuries were easily treatable. Any life-threatening injuries had already been choppered out to the Houston trauma center. Amy was kept busy treating the garden variety of general traumas common-place after a disaster. She saw cuts, abrasions and muscle tears, a few mild cases of hypothermia, neck and back complaints from minor accidents when drivers lost control of their vehicles. In between cases, she’d check with the dispatcher or try to catch a quick nap, only to lie on the cot wide awake, listening to the constant buzz of generators and chain saws in the distance. Sitting up after another failed attempt at sleep, she saw the night paling. Shortly before, Mitch had stopped in to see how everything was going and if she needed anything.

  “More soup and sandwiches,” she’d told him with a smile. “The ladies’ cooking works as many miracles around here as anything modern medicine can provide.”

  The chief patted his generous waistline. “There’s something I know all about.”

  “And a silo-sized coffeepot wouldn’t hurt either.”

  Mitch Kannon’s smile eased the weariness etched in his face. “I thought only Texans insisted on everything being bigger?”

  Amy adjusted an IV line. “Hey, until yesterday, I only drank herbal tea and honey.”

  “So we’re converting you to Turning Point’s down-home ways already?”

  Amy smiled thoughtfully. Although she’d grown up in a small town outside Seattle, she’d always been so anxious to move away and create a life outside the area’s narrow boundaries that the town had never seemed like home. After Jesse left, it had become a place filled with too many memories. Courage Bay, with its sea and fair weather and brave, caring people, was a wonderful community, but Amy knew she’d ended up there primarily because of Aunt Betts. If it hadn’t been for her aunt’s generosity and help, Amy would have never been able to attend medical school and raise her child. She thought of Jesse. Their child.

  “Lord knows, Turning Point and the other towns around here could use some smart, bright, young medical professionals such as yourself and the others who came in with you.” The chief interrupted Amy’s thoughts. “Rumor is Doc Holland has been talking about retirement. Guess the heart attack got the man to thinking he might not have as much time left as he’d like. If that’s the case, he wants to spend it with his wife and family and on the golf course. Can’t say I blame him, but the loss is going to leave Turning Point in sore need of medical services.”

  From what she’d witnessed, Amy sensed that Turning Point’s residents, even with their stubbornness and “can-do” attitude, would readily agree with the chief.

  “This is a nice little town,” the chief continued. “Good people. Solid values.”

  Amy smiled. “Are you recruiting me, Chief Kannon?”

  He smiled back. “Just giving you something to think about, Doc.”

  “I’m flattered, but—”

  “Just think about it, Doc. That’s all I’m asking.”

  She thought of the past forty-eight hours. Jesse. Ian. “I’ll add it to the list.”

  Mitch nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll get word to the school to send out some more soup and sandwiches. The ladies will probably be grateful for something to keep them busy. Last I heard it was
fairly quiet up there, thank the Lord. I’m heading out now to meet the chopper coming in to pick up Hal’s wife, Beth, and fly her to Houston. Hal’s one of our volunteer firefighters.”

  “What happened?” Amy asked.

  “Apparently she cut an artery on a broken window but managed to make it to Noah’s. She’d lost a lot of blood and Noah had to operate for fear she’d lose her arm. Lucky for everybody your friend Cheryl was there. I’m hoping the road has been cleared enough to get out there myself. Cheryl says she’s just fine, but after her swim in the river, I want to see for myself.”

  “Don’t let her snow you. Medical professionals are the last to admit something might be wrong with them.”

  Mitch winked. “If she gives me any trouble, I’ll bring her to you.”

  “I’ll be here,” Amy assured him. “And, Chief?”

  Mitch stopped and turned back to her.

  “I know you haven’t heard from your daughter, but Nate is one of the best,” Amy said.

  The chief nodded. “As is my daughter.”

  “I’m sure they’re both safe.”

  “That’s my prayer.”

  After Mitch left, Amy debated lying down once more, deciding it would be useless. Once the sun came up, she could never sleep. Fortunately her internship had trained her to get along with little or no sleep for long periods. A man came in and she wrapped suspected broken ribs, recommending the patient get the area X-rayed as soon as the roads were passable again. The sun was high now, the heat heavy and rich even in the early morning as if in apology to the sky’s fury only hours ago. The rescue squad’s radio sounded. Expecting Dana, Amy was shocked to hear the voice of Courage Bay Hospital’s Emergency Attending, Rachel Browne, patched through from the control center communications system.

  “Amy, we’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday. We finally got through—”

  Amy went cold all over in a fine sweat. “Ian?” she asked as the bottom dropped out of her world.

  “No, Ian’s fine. It’s your Aunt Elizabeth. She was brought in yesterday complaining of unbearable pain from a headache. We discovered an aneurysm. They were in the process of opening the skull when the aneurysm ruptured.”