Worth The Wait: Crystal Lake Series

by Laura Scott

  Worth The Wait

  Book 4 in the Crystal Lake Series

  by

  Laura Scott

  Worth The Wait

  Copyright © 2014 by Laura Iding writing as Laura Scott.

  Cover art by The Killion Group, Inc.

  Digital Formatting by Author E.M.S.

  By payment of the required fees, you have been granted a non-exclusive and non-transferable right to access and read the text of this eBook. No part of this eBook may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now or hereinafter invented without the express written permission of the copyright owner.

  Please Note

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The reverse engineering, uploading, and/or distributing of this eBook via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the copyright owner is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American copyright conventions.

  Thank You

  Other Books by Laura Scott

  Crystal Lake Series (listed in order)

  Healing Her Heart

  A Soldier’s Promise

  Coming Home

  Worth The Wait

  Christmas Reunion

  Other Love Inspired Suspense Books

  The Thanksgiving Target

  Secret Agent Father

  Lawman-in-Charge

  Proof of Life

  Identity Crisis*

  Twin Peril*

  Undercover Cowboy*

  Her Mistletoe Protector*

  Wrongly Accused (SWAT Series)

  Down To The Wire (SWAT Series)

  Under The Lawman’s Protection (SWAT Series)

  *Stories with Linked Characters

  Chapter One

  “Dr. Katy?” ER nurse Janelle Larson poked her head through the doorway of the patient’s room. “The trauma pager just went off. We have two GSWs on their way in.”

  Katy Reichert glanced up from the wound she was currently suturing on a young man who’d been sliced by a knife in a bar fight. Now they were getting two gunshot wounds? Barely nine o’clock on a Saturday evening and already patients were pouring in. “Thanks, Janelle. I’ll be finished here shortly.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll make sure the trauma bays are well stocked.” Janelle flashed a quick smile and darted back out of the room.

  Katy concentrated on finishing her task, even as her stomach clenched with anxiety. Hope County Hospital wasn’t normally so busy, but with spring giving way to summer, it seemed that locals and tourists alike were determined to celebrate the warm weather by drinking too much and getting into fights. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d had so many patients, especially at the same time. Although, truthfully, she’d had far worse nights when she’d been practicing at Baltimore General.

  She shied away from the painful memories of her past and focused on the issue at hand. Her patient, Danny Truitt, snored loudly, no doubt from the combination of the alcohol he’d consumed prior to the knife fight and the pain medication he’d been given here. She finished up Danny’s sutures—fourteen in all—stripped off her gloves, washed her hands, then quickly logged in to the computer to complete her orders.

  “All finished?” Merry Crain, another ER nurse, asked as she breezed into the room.

  “Yes, but we’ll need to monitor him closely until he sobers up. We can’t discharge him until he’s fully awake.”

  “I’ll get him hooked up to the telemetry and pulse ox,” Merry agreed. “That way we’ll hear the alarms if his condition changes.”

  “Good idea. We’ll need all hands on deck for the traumas.” Katy headed over toward the trauma bay, anxious to hear more about their impending arrivals. She looked around but didn’t see her colleague, trauma surgeon Wade Matthews. Where was he? He was the trauma surgeon on call; his pager should have gone off by now, alerting him to the GSWs.

  Janelle was standing near the computer, making sure everything was ready to go. Katy stripped off her lab coat and tossed it over one of the chairs along the back counter that housed several computers before crossing over to Janelle.

  “What do we know so far?” she asked.

  “Not much. One patient has a gunshot wound to the upper chest, and the other has a gunshot wound to the arm,” Janelle said. “They should be here any minute.”

  Katy nodded. “We should put University Hospital in Madison on alert for the GSW to the chest.”

  “I already made the call,” Janelle assured her. “It’s protocol to let them know about serious traumas. The Lifeline helicopter is on its way. They’ve agreed to remain on standby up on the landing pad.”

  Katy nodded, wishing they’d dispatched the chopper to the scene. But it was too late now. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Seconds later, the double doors leading in from the ambulance bay burst open, and a bevy of people crowded through.

  “GSW to the chest, bleeding badly,” the paramedic announced. “We’ve been pumping O neg blood into him like crazy.”

  Since there was still no sign of Wade Matthews, Katy had no choice but to step up and take control. “Get the level one rapid infuser,” she ordered. “Give four units of O neg, and order some fresh frozen plasma as well. I need a set of vitals as soon as possible.”

  Janelle deftly connected the tubing and began hanging blood products. Another nurse began connecting the patient to the heart monitor.

  “Merry, find Dr. Matthews, stat!” Katy drew on gloves and a gown over her scrubs, anticipating blood splatters. She lifted the dressing from the patient’s upper-left chest. Blood pooled rapidly, indicating a nicked artery and, likely, a severely injured lobe of the lung. She wasn’t a surgeon, but if she didn’t take immediate action, this man would bleed to death.

  “Get me a chest tray and suction,” she ordered. “And start a propofol drip to put him under. I need to explore this wound.”

  Janelle shoved the chest tray on a bedside table located to her right, and Katy forced herself to remain calm as she waited for the nurse to begin the propofol infusion so that her patient wouldn’t feel any pain. She sent up a silent prayer for strength as she picked up the scalpel. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of her face when she opened the entry wound so that she could assess the damage.

  Somehow, she managed to drown out the cacophony of voices surrounding her to focus on the emergency situation at hand. She needed to find a way to stop the bleeding. Through the opening, she could see the bullet was lodged in the upper lobe of the lung, which wasn’t good. But when she continued her search and found a lacerated artery, pumping out blood at an alarming rate, her stomach dropped.

  She hadn’t repaired an artery this large or removed a significant portion of lung tissue since her residency, but what choice did she have? How else could she stop the bleeding and remove the bullet? Performing surgery wasn’t her strong suit, but she knew they needed to buy time in order to stabilize the patient so he could be flown to Madison.

  “Hand me a scalpel,” she forced herself to say, hoping the tremor in her tone didn’t betray her lack of confidence. The only positive note was that the injury was located
high enough that she didn’t need to split the patient’s chest.

  With the scalpel in hand, she opened the entrance wound and placed small vascular clamps to stop the bleeding. She’d need to work fast, or the surrounding tissue would die from lack of oxygen. She sutured the artery, silently praying for strength and precision. When the artery was repaired to the best of her ability, she opened the clamps and breathed a sigh of relief when the bleeding was contained.

  Feeling calmer now that the most tenuous part was done, she picked up the forceps and began exploring the upper lobe of the lung where the bullet was lodged. She found herself glancing frequently at the overhead monitor, to make sure her patient remained stable. Halfway through the procedure, Wade Matthews finally showed up.

  “You’re doing fine,” he said, as if his absence was no big deal. She glared at him, seriously annoyed, but this wasn’t the time or place to vent her frustration. “I’ll take it from here,” he assured her.

  She stepped back, knowing Wade’s surgical skills were far better than hers, although he wasn’t a cardiothoracic surgeon either. “The chopper is ready to take him to Madison, so the goal is to stabilize him enough for the flight.”

  Wade nodded but didn’t look up from the wound. A glance up at the heart monitor convinced her that their patient was doing all right, not great, but better than she’d expected. Her gaze dropped to the patient’s face, and her stomach squeezed painfully when she realized the guy was far younger than she’d originally thought—which might be why he was still alive, despite the serious injuries to his artery and lung.

  For a moment, Steffie’s all-too-still features flashed in her mind, reminding her of the young patient she’d failed back in Baltimore.

  “Dr. Katy? Should we get more blood?” Janelle asked, breaking into her thoughts.

  “Yes, keep the O neg flowing,” she said. She stripped off her gloves and turned to look for the second GSW patient. Her gaze landed on DNR game warden Reese Webster sitting on a gurney with a field dressing wrapped around his left bicep. She’d taken care of Reese just a few weeks earlier, after he’d been slashed by a wounded bear, so she shouldn’t be surprised to see him again. Apparently his job often put him in the path of danger.

  As she walked toward him, he didn’t glance at her, his gaze focused solely on the patient with the chest wound. He seemed more concerned about the other guy than his own injury.

  Katy put a hand on Reese’s forearm, the warmth of his skin practically scorching her fingers. She dropped her hand, hoping he didn’t notice her hasty retreat. “You should probably lie down so I can take a look at your arm.”

  Reese’s mouth tightened, and he shook his head. “Sorry, Dr. Katy, but I’m fine. Marcus Boyle is the one who needs your medical attention, not me.”

  She looked over her shoulder to see that Wade had finished with the procedure and was placing fresh dressings over the open chest wound.

  “Get those units of blood in, stat, so we can get him up to the helipad,” he ordered. “Now!”

  Hospital staff and paramedics jumped to do his bidding. Janelle pushed the rapid infuser with the blood transfusions going alongside the gurney, while the other staff members quickly wheeled the patient to the elevators leading up to the roof, where the helipad was located. As soon as they left the trauma bay, an eerie silence filled the room.

  “Which hospital are they taking him to?” Reese asked.

  “University Hospital in Madison,” she replied. “Trust me, he has the best chance of surviving his injury there. They have highly qualified cardiothoracic surgeons on staff. What we did here was a temporary patch job.”

  Reese stared at the closed elevator door for a long moment. “It’s my fault he’s injured,” he said in a low voice.

  “I’m sure there’s more to that story,” she murmured, feeling bad for him. “Now let me take a look at your arm.”

  Reese sighed and finally stretched out on the gurney. He was still wearing his forest-green uniform, and he was so tall his booted feet dangled off the end of the cart.

  “I shot him,” he said bluntly.

  Katy unwrapped the bloody gauze from Reese’s arm, wincing in sympathy when she saw fresh blood oozing down his arm. His uniform sleeve had been hacked off super short, no doubt by the paramedics to provide easy access to the wound. “I’m thinking he shot you first,” she said. “You’re lucky the bullet went all the way through. This looks to be mostly a flesh wound.”

  Reese didn’t argue or flinch as she probed the wound, making sure there were no foreign bodies left behind. But when she noted a few threads of fabric embedded inside, she grew concerned.

  “I need to irrigate this with antibiotic solution, okay? I can’t remember from last time you were here if you have any allergies?”

  “No allergies,” he said tersely.

  All three nurses had gone up with the chest wound patient to the helipad, so she stripped off her gloves to get the normal saline, antibiotic solution, and syringes that she needed.

  “Why did he shoot you?” she asked as a way to distract herself from the odd awareness she experienced from being so close to him. She’d come to Crystal Lake, Wisconsin, to get away from the memories of her past failures, not to be distracted by a handsome game warden.

  “He was poaching and has been for a long time. I’m sure he injured that bear that clawed me three weeks ago. I’ve been tracking him ever since, and this time, I caught him in the act of shooting a cougar.” Reese’s tone was hard and flat. “When I confronted him, he fired at me, so I shot back.”

  “A cougar?” she echoed in horror. While she loved working in the Hope County Hospital ER, she was a city girl at heart. All this talk of bears and cougars living in the woods that flanked the north side of the lake unnerved her. She enjoyed hiking the walking/running path but wouldn’t dare venture any farther. “You’re joking, right? There really aren’t cougars around here.”

  A wry grin tugged at his mouth, making him even more handsome. As if his dark hair, hazel-green eyes and broad shoulders weren’t devastating enough? “Just a few, and don’t worry, they tend to stay far away from people. They’re feeding on the overpopulation of deer, which is a good thing.”

  Feeding on Bambi was a good thing? Katy suppressed a shiver. “If you say so,” she muttered doubtfully. “Do you want some pain medication?” she asked, changing the subject. “This is going to hurt.”

  “No pain meds,” Reese said firmly. “I need to drive up to Madison to check on how Boyle is doing.”

  She wanted to roll her eyes at his macho attitude, but she remembered how Reese had declined pain meds the last time he was here too. With a mental shrug, she went to work, extensively irrigating the wound and then turning toward her suture tray.

  “Are you sure you don’t want something for pain before I stitch this up?” she asked, stalling for time. Maybe if she waited long enough, Wade would return, and he could do the task. After all, he owed her big-time. Not that Reese’s wound needed a trauma surgeon, but for some reason, she loathed the idea of sticking needles into Reese.

  “I’m sure.”

  She stared at him for a long minute before taking a deep breath and picking up the curved needle attached to a suture. Once again, she sent up a silent prayer, knowing she needed extra support from her faith. When she pierced the needle through the edge of his wound, she flinched more than he did. She tried to think of Reese like any other patient, but it wasn’t easy. Sweat dampened her scalp and rolled down her back as she placed one suture after another, closing the entry wound and then the exit wound.

  And when she finally finished, she stepped back and dropped the suture needle on a wave of relief. For a moment, her vision went hazy, and Reese unexpectedly reached out and clasped her arm in a strong, firm grip.

  “Are you all right?” he asked with concern.

  She forced a smile. “Of course. You’re the patient here, not me.”

  He lifted an eyebrow, and she inwardly sighed,
knowing she wasn’t fooling him one bit. She stared down at his hand holding her arm, and he slowly released her.

  She forced a smile. “Sorry, I guess I’m a little tired. It’s been a busy night.”

  His expression turned serious. “I know. You were really incredible.”

  She blushed and dropped her gaze, knowing that if he knew the truth about what had happened in Baltimore, he wouldn’t think of her as incredible at all. Her heart squeezed in her chest, and she pulled herself together with an effort.

  “Okay, you’re all set to go, but I want you to take antibiotics twice daily for the next ten days,” she said in a stern tone. “And you’ll need to make an appointment with your doctor to get the sutures removed.”

  “I don’t have a doctor,” he said with a frown. “Can’t I just come back here to see you?”

  For a moment, she simply looked at him, wondering if she was imagining the flash of interest in his gaze.

  Of course she was. She barely knew the man, had only patched him up twice now. What was wrong with her? She wasn’t interested in anything remotely resembling a relationship. She needed to get a grip and fast.

  “I’m an ER doctor; I don’t have clinic appointments,” she managed. “But you can establish care with any of the general medicine physicians here. In fact, I’ll be happy to give you a list of names.”

  He shrugged. “No need, I’ll just come back when you’re working,” he said in a casual tone. He nimbly jumped off the gurney, looming over her from his height of six feet three inches. She craned her neck, tilting her face upward, thinking it was ridiculous that the top of her head barely reached his chin.

  “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” he said in a low tone. “Thank you.”

  Their gazes crashed and held. For the life of her, she couldn’t manage a single coherent thought. Thankfully, the rest of the medical team returned from the helipad. The moment was gone, and she stepped back gratefully. Wade Matthews disappeared down the hallway while Janelle began cleaning up the equipment and restocking supplies in the first trauma bay.