by Dianne Drake
“How long do you anticipate the whole thing to take?” Carrie asked him.
“Because I want to get you all into the field as soon as possible, I’m breaking this up rather than teaching it straight through. So, conservatively, it’ll take about a year. Maybe more.”
“Then, if I opt to stay, I have to make that commitment?”
“If you want to get certified. As it is, certification isn’t required, and I can hire anybody I want to go out and work, using the hospital as a base. But getting certified gives you the opportunity to travel, to go pretty much anywhere in the world you want to go. It’s a wide-open field, and you can go as far as you wish, if you’re willing to put in the time to get you there.”
Was that what he wanted? For her to go someplace else? “How long have you been certified, Jack?”
“Since long before I was a doctor. And I’ve been a member of an international rescue organization for years, as well as a certified instructor.”
“And your specialty is...?” She knew, of course, but Jack was so reluctant to talk about himself, she doubted the rest of the class knew. More than that, she simply wanted to draw him out, get him talking about himself. He needed it, and she longed to hear something new from him. Something about his accomplishments. Something to remind him that he had worth.
“Mountain,” he said, raising his eyebrows at her. “With a secondary in white water. I’ve spent a fair amount of time on the river, so I’m pretty good at that, too.”
“Worst rescue you ever did?” she asked bluntly.
“Nothing anybody would be interested in,” he said, the look on his face clearly indicating he was catching on to what she was trying to do.
“But if you’re going to be teaching us what we need to do, shouldn’t we have some idea of what you’ve had to do? I mean, knowing you’re certified is one thing...it’s a certificate indicating you’ve done something to earn it. But what, Jack? What have you done?”
A consensus muttering of yeses and head nods came from the students, and as Jack arose from his chair to come around to the front of the desk, he scowled at Carrie. But it wasn’t an angry scowl, and she smiled back at him.
“Fine. One story. My worst rescue. And I’m assuming by worst you mean my most difficult, because my worst was a two-day hunt in the woods for a child...hard rain, mud every step of the way. It was cold, I got athlete’s foot because my feet were never dry. Ended up with a mild case of pneumonia because my lungs never got dry either. And the kid was home, hiding out in his cellar all the time, trying to teach his parents a lesson. That was my worst.
“But my most difficult was getting a photographer off a mountain after he’d been mauled by a bear. He’d been bear-baiting, trying to get close-up photos. But what he got close-up was a bear who wanted the food he was baiting with. The guy’s arm was half off when we got to him, he had serious internal damage, and he’d lain out in the open for a couple of days before someone came across him. He was barely alive.
“I got called to take a team in... Palloton was with me.” He looked at the class to explain. “He’s an old friend from childhood. We’ve always climbed together. Anyway, we got up there, saw the situation and realized it was going to take more than what we had to get him down. Naturally, it was snowing, which didn’t help matters. The guy was in deep shock, badly infected, and by the time we got to him he didn’t have enough time left in him to take him down the trail, which would have probably taken the better part of two days since we’d have to go slowly. So we decided to take him down the side of the mountain, to lower him to the ground and let a team down there get him to a helicopter. I figured that would take us about a day less than the other way.”
Carrie looked around, and the rest of the students were practically on the edges of their seats, hanging on Jack’s every word. She was, too, to be honest. “So, you had a litter up there?” she asked. “And everything you needed to do the climb down?”
“One of the things you’ll learn is how to pack a litter for most of the situations you’ll encounter, then to take that litter out with you. I had four people on my team going up. Anyway, it took us a while to get it rigged so we could lower him, but we did. I did everything I could medically, because I was the only trained medic in the group. There wasn’t much I could do, though, under the circumstances. An IV for a couple of hours, some cleaning, some bandaging. Stitches. Anyway, we got him ready and had him lowered about forty or fifty feet, then he started thrashing. Midair, suspended several hundred feet above the ground and he was thrashing so hard his litter was beating against the rocks. Needless to say, I rigged up to climb down, but by the time I got there he was hung up on a shelf, and the litter was damaged. The pulleys wouldn’t work. I couldn’t get him back up, couldn’t lower him down. Which meant, midair transfer. Except that meant another litter.
“Long story short, I spent the entire night on that shelf, hanging on to the litter, tending to the guy... I’d sedated him so he wouldn’t come around and cause more problems. And let me tell you, it was a miserable night. The wind got bad. The snow got worse. I was afraid he’d die of hypothermia. Afraid I’d die of it, too. Then when morning came, the area was socked in with a couple of feet of new snow. Meaning even if we did get him down, there’d be no getting a helicopter in.”
“But you got the new litter?”
He nodded. “And climbing gear. Palloton came down and helped me make the transfer, but I got bumped over the edge, and couldn’t get a foothold to get back up on. So I spent two hours dangling there, while the litter went down. Eventually, they got me back up top, but there was still the matter of getting back down the trail, which was so snowed over we were plowing through snow that was waist deep. Plus, I had frostbite on my toes, which didn’t help me walk.”
“And the rest of your team?” Carried asked.
“Had to carry me down. Not the best way to exit your own rescue, but this is what can happen. There will be times when everything goes right, and times when nothing does.”
“Did he live?” one of the students asked.
Jack nodded. “Several surgeries later, then he went back up to attempt the photo again.”
“He survived that one?” Carrie asked.
Jack shrugged. “I warned him not to go. But I never got a call to come get him, so I assume he got what he was after without being mauled again.”
Carrie shut her eyes to visualize Jack on that rescue. In her mind, it was a much bigger, much more difficult operation than he had described. It had to be. And she could almost picture Jack suspended in midair for all that time. Hanging there with no way up, no way down. Her stomach turned over, and not with the prospect that she might, one day, find herself in a similar situation, but with the idea that she could have lost Jack even before she’d found him. Suddenly her hands started shaking and she crossed her arms over her chest and tucked them into her armpits so he wouldn’t see.
“And now,” Jack said, going back to his desk chair, “let’s talk about the wildlife you’ll encounter, and how to deal with it. Because you might have to rescue that guy I was talking about, and the bear may still have its paw on his chest, or its mouth on his leg.”
* * *
“Good work,” Jack said, several hours later, as the group of students prepared to walk back down the trail and go home. His teaching day was over and now he had several hours ahead of him at the hospital. The work had to go on, and he had to pull his weight, even though Caleb and Leanne were back now, despite the classes. Which meant his eight-and ten-hour days were now more like eighteen. But it was good. He was optimistic about the program, optimistic about his students and, more than anything, optimistic about Carrie. She’d trained three students on bouldering alongside the three he’d trained, and she’d done it like a pro.
Everything about Carrie impressed him and the more he saw of her, the more he wanted her. As a team leader.
Maybe even, at some point, he could get her trained to teach. “How many times have you been up here practicing since we were up here?” he asked, his eyes trailing over to where they’d almost practiced something other than bouldering. Then he remembered where they had practiced. Or, actually, come close to perfection.
“Eight or ten. Sometimes once a day, sometimes twice.” She tucked her gear into her bag, then picked it up and slung it over her shoulder. “I’d like to stop by and take Bella for a walk,” she said. “If you don’t have any plans.”
“Just working. Going to cover the evening shift.”
“In the ER? Because I’m down for a split shift there myself.”
“Yep. And keeping my fingers crossed we’re not too busy.” Which maybe wasn’t the best thing now that he knew Carrie was on with him. Because not busy meant more time to interact, which was exactly what he did not need. “So, I guess I’ll see you later.”
“You’re going straight in?”
“After I grab something to eat. Probably pizza, since Millie’s is now off my list.”
“Why?”
“Janice finally asked me out. She said she wants to cook for me privately now that she knows you and I aren’t...” He cringed. “Since everybody in town knows that our living arrangement didn’t work. Which means that everyone thought our arrangement was an—” he arched sexy eyebrows and smiled “—arrangement.”
Carrie laughed out loud. “And Janice tried to get in on some of that?”
“Twice, actually. She said she wanted to cook for me, and after I told her no, she suggested there might be other things I needed, or wanted.”
“Poor Jack—the object of somebody’s lascivious attention,” she teased as they started back down the trail, side by side. “Must be tough, being you.”
This was the first time they’d had any kind of interaction outside school or work, since he’d flat-out rejected her. It was nice. It felt right. Even though he didn’t deserve it. What he’d done... To spend the evening in bed with her, then practically kick her out his door. No, he didn’t deserve nice conversation. He didn’t deserve anything. But he’d missed her. More than he’d expected. “Look, about what I said after...”
“It’s over, Jack. You know what you want, and you’ve never been anything but honest about it. I got a little sidetracked, but I’m back on track now, so there’s nothing to say. Or apologize for. Or explain.”
He wasn’t sure if she was being honest or simply trying to hide behind the barriers she put up to keep herself from getting hurt. Either way, he decided it was best to leave it alone. Because he truly did not want to hurt Carrie in any way. This past week, he’d paced the floor every night, losing sleep worrying that he had.
And he still worried. This was her move to call, though. If she simply wanted to ignore what they’d done, what he’d done, that was her decision, and he would respect that.
“If that’s what you want...”
“It’s what I want,” she said, trying to sound complacent, but reflecting something different, something almost sad in her eyes. “And we’re good, I hope.” She reached over and gave his arm a squeeze. “Because I’ve missed you.”
He felt the tingle from her touch. It rushed up his arm. Caused him to gasp. Caused him to wish there could be more. But there couldn’t—not of that. Still, he was beginning to have some hope that they could have a friendship again, because he felt better when he and Carrie were on good terms. And he was positive he could keep his feelings under control.
“So, how about grabbing a pizza with me before we go our separate ways? I don’t have to be on for an hour, you don’t have to be on for two, so somewhere in the middle of all that I think there’s a little time for pepperoni and cheese, or do you prefer Italian sausage? Can you deal with that?”
“Are you sure about this? About us working together? Because I can always walk away and—”
“And ham. I really like ham on my pizza.”
She smiled. Shook her head, and continued, “I like mushrooms, onions and peppers. Can you deal with that?”
“To make this professional relationship work, we’ve got to—”
“Black olives,” she said.
“What?”
“I really like black olives on my pizza.”
He sighed, chuckled, and smiled up at the sky. What the hell was he going to do?
* * *
They weren’t even inside the pizza restaurant when Jack’s phone rang. He looked to see who it was, saw the hospital switchboard number come up, and sighed. “We may be looking at a rain check on that pizza,” he said, punching into his voice mail.
He listened for a few seconds, then hit the disconnect. “It’s Priscilla,” he said. “Another heart episode. This one’s bad.”
“Someone’s with her?” Carrie asked, automatically taking hold of Jack’s arm and leading him toward her truck. “I’ll drive,” she said. “And I’ll also call the hospital to make sure we’re covered until we get back.”
“Palloton’s on his way up.”
“Why?” she asked, as she slipped into the driver’s seat.
“He came into the hospital, looking for me. Apparently, he’s been trying to call me since he got to town, but that’s when we were still up at Eagle Pointe, and there’s no reception there. So he went to my house, saw I wasn’t there, then headed on over to the hospital. They told him I wasn’t scheduled until later but, in the meantime, if he ran into me, to tell me a call had come in from Priscilla. She was having heart problems and needed me there.”
“So Palloton went?”
Jack slumped back in his seat as Carrie pushed the gas pedal to the floor. “I’m glad he did. She shouldn’t be there alone.”
The drive seemed interminable, but when Jack glanced over at the speedometer, he saw that Carrie was driving somewhat above the speed limit. On iced-over mountain roads. With snow starting to come down. Not much of it here, but farther up the mountain? That made him nervous. And here was a Chicago girl speeding on steep, winding, snowy mountain roads. Yet it didn’t worry him as she was so competent at everything else she did, he assumed she would be as competent at road conditions many people didn’t care to drive on.
“You good on snow?” he asked her, to make sure.
She nodded. “Remember where I grew up? Snow is a way of life there. I’ve driven in it, lived in it when I was on the street, slept in it... I know snow. Also, snow conditions were covered in my tactical training, so...no problem.” Keeping her eyes on the road, she reached over and squeezed Jack’s arm. “No problem at all.”
He sighed, but not from relief. He was thinking of Evangeline. Wishing she’d been intrepid the way Carrie was. Their marriage may not have lasted had she not crashed. But he’d still have Alice. And, dear God, he missed his daughter so badly...
Jack turned his head to the window so Carrie wouldn’t see the tears brimming his eyes. She’d found her way into so many places in his life, but not there. Nobody, nothing was there except his grief.
Chapter Nine
“I WASN’T SURE what to do,” Palloton explained as he held the door open for Carrie and Jack. “I got her to lie down and I’ve been taking her pulse, which is one hundred-fifty.”
Carrie cringed, then asked, “While she’s lying down?” It had taken them twice as long as it should have to get there, owing to the road conditions. Icy at the start, getting worse the higher they’d got. She’d nearly slid off the road twice, turning completely around once in a spin. Good thing she was from Chicago where snow, ice and bad driving conditions were a huge thing in the winter. She was glad Jack had trusted her with that. So much so, he hadn’t been as nervous about it as she’d been. He hadn’t even grumbled when she’d finally called it quits, parked the truck, and told him they were going to hike the rest of the way because the truck wasn’t going to make it all t
he way up. So they’d spent an extra half-hour on foot, cutting through some mighty tough terrain, alternately taking the lead, then helping the other along in the worst spots. He’d pull her up on one outcrop of rocks, she’d pull him up the next.
* * *
Carrying the litter that last little bit had slowed them, too. But she was glad they had it. Glad that Jack was a good teacher and had drummed that lesson into her head. That, and many more.
Getting up here—it was almost like they worked this way all the time. They’d found an unspoken rhythm and a routine that worked. It was nice. Before, in her job, it had always been on the edge of adversarial, them against her, or the other way around. But this was them, together. And it was such a good fit. Now, as they were starting on Priscilla, she only hoped their delay hadn’t caused even more problems for the old woman.
Palloton nodded. “She’s breathing too fast, too. I counted her respirations at about twenty-six, give or take. I don’t know if she’s got a fever...I couldn’t find a thermometer...but she doesn’t feel hot.”
Carrie looked at Jack, who was on his way to the hall. “So, what exactly is her diagnosed condition. You didn’t tell me last time we were out here.”
Jack paused, then turned back to Carrie. “It’s an intermittent tachycardia, which would normally be treated by a beta-blocker, if my grandmother would take a beta-blocker. But I’m betting she hasn’t taken one pill of her prescription.”
“Paradoxical supraventricular tachycardia?” Carrie asked.
“Exactly,” Jack said, arching impressed eyebrows.
“I study,” she told him, as she knew most doctors didn’t expect that kind of specialized knowledge from a paramedic.
“Indeed you do. So now...what?” he asked.
“She’s going to need an adenosine intravenous injection before she goes into atrial fib.”
“Why didn’t you go to medical school, Carrie?” he asked. “Because you’re good.”
