The Surgeon's Rescue Mission

by Dianne Drake

  Solaina sighed as she prepared to finish up the procedure. The surgery. “All things considered, I think he’s holding everything very well,” she said. At this point, much better than she was, because after the wound had been dressed, and after Howard had joined his wife on the beach, Solaina sat down on the bed next to David to take a pulse, assess his respirations, make sure his wound wasn’t bleeding. The last thing she remembered was how inviting the empty pillow next to him looked. “Just for a minute,” she said as she laid her head down on it. “Only a minute…”

  CHAPTER SIX

  IT WAS dark, save for a dim light from the kitchenette, when Solaina finally opened her eyes. At first, she wasn’t sure where she was. She knew she was safe. And cozy. And comfortable. She felt it, and it was such a nice feeling she didn’t want to shake it off. Not just yet. Another minute, she promised herself as she snuggled in and let the feeling of pure bliss wash over her. Another minute…

  She stretched out her arm and elicited a soft moan from the body next to her as it came to rest across his ribs. A moan!

  Instantly, Solaina pushed herself away, finally realizing just where it was that she’d been feeling so safe and cozy and comfortable. In bed with him. With David! Curled into his side. His arm around her, and hers slung casually across him like that was the way they had always slept. With the familiarity of lovers…Instantly, she sat bolt upright, but David grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her back to him.

  “Don’t go,” he murmured, struggling to maintain his grip as she tried to shake it off.

  “I’ll bet you say that to all the girls who remove bullets from your shoulder,” she said, still trying to extract herself from his hold without actually hurting him. Which wasn’t easy to do since he was clinging so tightly to her. Too tight for a man in his weakened condition.

  “Only the girl of my dreams. Of course she doesn’t want to leave me, so I don’t have to beg.”

  Finally extracting herself from David, Solaina rolled over to the edge of the bed, then jumped up and looked around, trying to get her bearings. It was dark outside now. Well into the night, or early morning as it turned out to be when she looked at the clock.

  “Howard and Victoria have gone to a hotel back up north for the night,”

  “How long was I asleep?” she asked, still flustered.

  “All evening, most of the night now. I didn’t want to disturb you, but it’s gotten to the point I can’t wait any longer. You know, the call of nature. The urge to take a visit to the facility.” He struggled to sit up, then slung his feet over the side of the bed. “Being dehydrated as I was, there hasn’t been much of a need, but Howard made me drink a frightful amount of your naam phon-la-mai before he left, and now…”

  “And I didn’t wake up through all of that?”

  “You were snoring away like a chainsaw.”

  “I don’t snore,” Solaina snapped, padding across the room to turn on a light.

  David chuckled. “Well, someone I was sleeping with last night did, and Howard and Victoria will attest to that, I’m sure.” He scooted toward the edge of the bed, then paused to catch his breath. “I don’t suppose you could give me an assist, getting up. I think that in spite of all the naam phon-la-mai I’ve had, I’m still a little shaky. Oh, and in case I was too drunk to stammer or slur it last night, thank you for what you did. Howard said you have an aversion to those kinds of medica. situations, and for you to actually do something like remove a bullet took a great amount of courage. I appreciate it, Solaina.”

  “You look better,” she said, for a lack of a more pithy response. She did have an aversion, and not because she went all squeamish over such things but because she wasn’t qualified to do them. But there was no point in letting on. Not now that it was over. And in some strange way it almost seemed better that he believed her to be squeamish rather than incompetent. Although if he remembered very much of the last day, he would definitely recollect her incisively clear level of nursing deficiency.

  But maybe he wouldn’t remember. She hoped.

  “Feel better, too. And I’ll feel even better if you could help me get to the…”

  Solaina went around to the side of the bed from which he was attempting to stand. “Arm around my neck,” she said bending over him.

  “Been there,” he said. “A good bit of the night. Enjoyed it very much.”

  “Do you want my help?” she snapped.

  “Are you always so grumpy first thing in the morning? I would have pictured you much brighter. Even cheerful. Looks are deceptive, I suppose.”

  “Are you always so bright and cheerful in the morning?” she countered, bracing herself to help him stand. The truth be told, she was glad he was doing so much better—much better than she’d expected, actually. Which spoke well of his strength and determination. Of course, after what Howard had said about him, strength and determination were a given, and she shouldn’t have been at all surprised by his speedy recovery.

  The only problem was, what came next? Certainly he wasn’t going to need all the nursing care she’d anticipated. A man like David wouldn’t want it either. So that meant that she should probably take him somewhere—to the hospital Howard had spoken of, to a friend…She didn’t know where. Then she should return to Chandella, to her own life. Close the page on this chapter.

  In an ironical sense, this was a funny thing. One minute before she’d met him, she had been happily not involved anywhere, with anyone. And now here she was, almost dreading the minute after they parted when she would no longer be involved.

  “I’m cheerful all right when I wake up with the most incredibly beautiful woman in the world in my arms. Oh, and waking up alive. That makes me almost as cheerful as waking up with you.”

  “If I didn’t already know you were a surgeon, I’d think you were a salesman,” she said, pulling him to a standing position. “Now, shift your weight onto me, Casanova, and I’ll steady you as you walk across the room.”

  Once again, David was much stronger than she would have guessed, and what should have been a difficult maneuver turned out to be a relatively smooth walk. It was slow but steady, as David carefully measured each step he took before his foot sank into the lush Burmese carpet on the floor. “You don’t need help in there, do you?” she asked, as he grabbed hold of the doorframe and took several independent steps into the bathroom.

  “Depends on what kind of help you’re offering.”

  She gave him a pert little smile. “Not the kind you’re hoping for.” For a moment she imagined him immersed in a nice tepid bath, with bubbles. Would David take a bubble bath? she wondered. She was in the bath with him, of course, with loofa in hand, ready to wash his back, and she could almost smell the jasmine soap.

  Blinking, Solaina pushed that image out of her head and fixed on the more practical one of shutting the door and leaving David to his own devices. Not nearly as nice, but safer. Definitely much safer, considering how nice it had felt, waking up next to him.

  “Since you’re not going to be a sport about this, let’s just leave it that I’ll call if I need help.” Grinning, he shut the door, leaving Solaina on the outside, staring at the blank door for several seconds before she turned away and hurried toward the kitchenette to make tea and figure what to do with—or without—David Gentry.

  David propped himself up on the sink, panting from the exertion. Feeling chipper was entirely different from looking like he was chipper. Which he was not. But the act was for Solaina. When he walked out of her life, which would be soon, he didn’t want her coming after him out of some obligation to take care of him. It would be her inclination to do just that if she thought he wasn’t in good enough condition to leave. So he’d make her think that he was.

  He was a pretty good actor, he thought. Solaina didn’t seem overly concerned about him this morning. Of course, if she saw the way he was breathing right now—the way his chest struggled to expand and contract with each and every breath and the way his ribs chal
lenged the movement every inch of the way—she’d tie him to the bed for sure. Solaina might resist the notion that she was a good nurse, but she was a damned good one, and he couldn’t risk that element surfacing in her right now.

  For her safety, of course. Being with him could make her a target, and he wouldn’t have that!

  First glance in the mirror, and David shook his head in disgust. He should have been better than this. Better and stronger. “Getting soft and sloppy,” he murmured. To the best of his recollection he’d been wandering around in some kind of wounded state for four days now, from the start of it. Early Thursday morning, he’d made the run across the border like he’d done a hundred times before. Just a quick trip to the outskirts of Qailin to pick up a patient. A foot injury, he’d been told. Possible amputation. Probably some poor farmer stumbling onto one of the old, rusty tripwires.

  He couldn’t remember all the details right now, but nothing about the run had struck him as being out of the ordinary. “Except this,” he murmured, running his fingers lightly over his bandaged ribs.

  He was sensing a pattern. The vehicle thefts—their ambulance, their good Jeep—a supply shed robbed of extra medical equipment, broken windows in the surgery. None of it was very violent. More like warnings. Which apparently had just escalated with his broken ribs. No one had been injured before now, and this time he’d been kicked clear to the brink of death.

  David raised his hand to rub his right shoulder. Coincidence? He didn’t think so any more. That being the case, he had to get out of here before Solaina became a part of it. Whatever it was. Especially since she was running an orientation course for IMO nurses, and he wasn’t ready to put IMO in the clear. He wasn’t ready to accuse them either.

  It just didn’t make sense, he thought, splashing water in his face. Why would they come after him this way? But if not them, who?

  It took David almost half an hour to wash up and make himself presentable. Smiling as he took Solaina’s razor off the edge of the bathtub for a quick shave, he realised he actually wanted to make himself presentable this morning. It was the first time that urge had struck him in a good long while because outside his work, nothing else mattered. Relationships hadn’t, obviously. Not after he’d gotten his second chance at medicine from Howard Brumley. And that was an opportunity he wouldn’t mess up again.

  He thought about Solaina as he dragged the razor over his four-day growth. With her flat-out resistance and his self-awareness…David sighed wistfully. Not meant to be. It could have been very nice, though.

  “Are you cooking?” he asked Solaina a little later, as he dropped down into one of the two chairs tucked next to the chessboard-sized table.

  “Not even in your dreams.” Solaina laughed. “Change that to nightmares. Besides, with all the wonderful food in Dharavaj, I never cook. No domesticity in this woman. But I can do tea brilliantly. So, which do you take? Cream, sugar, lemon? Howard left some of his grog, I believe.”

  “Please, no. Not the grog!” He laughed. “A little sugar, lots of lemon and an ice cube. And let’s just say that Howard is a much better man with spirits than I am and leave it at that.”

  “You don’t like your tea hot?”

  He gave her a suggestive grin, and a cheeky wink. “There are many things I like hot. My women, my salsa…Tea just doesn’t happen to be one of them.”

  “I actually figured you for a soda man,” she quipped lightly. “Had a bit of a think on the subject when you were snoring—”

  “I don’t snore,” he interrupted, settling into place. “Must have been some other highwayman you dragged home in the middle of the night.”

  Solaina laughed. “Believe me, I’m quite capable of keeping my highwaymen straight.”

  “So this is a regular pastime with you?”

  “You’re my first…”

  “The words every man longs to hear.”

  “Simmer down, Casanova. You’ll bust another rib.”

  “And it would be well worth the cost, if you’re the one to fix it up for me.”

  “It’s amazing what a bath will do, isn’t it?” She laughed, pulling an ice tray out of the freezer and dislodging a couple of cubes from it. “One minute you’re a sick, weak man and the next you’re…” She shrugged. “Pretty much like every man I’ve ever dated.”

  “Handsome?” he teased.

  “Randy, in spite of the most dire of circumstances.” Solaina took a seat across from him and passed him a banana muffin. “And in case you were going to ask, no, I didn’t bake them. I bought them in Chandella. Nice little French pastry shop just around the corner from where I live. And speaking of where I live, how is it that you know Howard?”

  “Maybe I should be asking you the same question?” he countered, taking a bite of his muffin.

  “We’re neighbors.”

  “We’re friends, going on ten years now. He was actually the one who got me to this part of the world and into IMO. He was lecturing in Toronto when we met, and we hit it off. Then I took a little dive off the deep end—failed marriage, muffed surgical practice—and Howard propped me up, kicked me in the seat of the pants a few times when I was determined to stay down, then eventually sent me off to Cambodia and IMO when he was a volunteer for them. It was one of those dark periods in a person’s life that’s best not dragged out too often.” He smiled. “But I do owe Dr Brumley pretty much everything I am today. And now he volunteers at my hospital occasionally. No surgery obviously, but he’s a great doctor, and we’re always glad to have him when Victoria is willing to give him up for a few days.”

  “Well, my Howard story’s not quite so dramatic. We were neighbors, he was in IMO, like you said, and he asked me to do some local orientation for the IMO nurses.”

  “Did he ever try recruiting you into the trenches?”

  Solaina shook her head vehemently. “He knows better. Those who can’t do, teach. Oh, and administrate. I can fasten a bandage brilliantly, but that’s as far as practical experience goes for me. After that I let the skilled nurses step in.”

  “Am I hearing a bit of angst in your voice over that? Over not being a clinical nurse?”

  “Not angst. More like total awareness. I made my choice years ago and I’m fine with it.”

  “But would you rather be doing something else?”

  “Right now, I’d rather be lying outside in my cabana chair, reading a book.”

  “And you called me evasive.” He chuckled. “You are a good nurse, you know. Very good. Good instincts…”

  “Please, David, let’s not go on about this,” Solaina snapped. “I don’t want to ruin a perfectly good muffin over it.” Solaina took a sip of tea then settled into her chair. “And I’m leaving here in a while, so there’s really no point in squabbling about my instincts or my skills because what they are, or are not, will be transferring to another hospital somewhere else.”

  “You’re leaving?”

  “That’s what I do. I work for a while, then I move on. It keeps things lively in my life. I’ve been here two years now, which is just about my limit.”

  “Do you get restless?” he asked. “Is that why you leave?”

  She nodded. “So far, that’s the way it’s worked out. And you?”

  “I stay put. No wanderlust in me whatsoever. If Howard hadn’t convinced me that there was a better purpose for me in Cambodia with IMO, I’d still be in Toronto, either dragging through the streets looking for my purpose or working in the family practice with my dad and my grandfather and my brother. One big, happy orthopedic lot we were.”

  “It sounds nice.”

  “In theory, it does, doesn’t it?”

  “Is that some angst I’m hearing in your voice?”

  “To borrow the words of a great nurse, not angst. More like total awareness.”

  “Family situations can be tough,” she commented. “And I’m assuming your total awareness is over a family situation. What about your marriage?”

  “She cheated. App
arently she wanted the income and resources being married to a doctor would get her, but all the hours I was gone weren’t to her liking so she found someone with better hours. Of course, I wasn’t around to notice it, and she had herself quite a fling for almost three of the five years we were married before I caught on. Talk about feeling like a fool…Hell of it was, I thought we were happy, and I was just too damned caught up in my work to notice that we weren’t.”

  “Do you still love her?”

  David shook his head. “If I’d loved her like I should have, I would have noticed. But I didn’t love her enough, or notice.”

  “My parents were apart for most of their marriage, but they were always faithful. We had a great many problems as a family, but that was the one thing we always counted on—that my parents were devoted and faithful.”

  “It takes a lot to be faithful,” David commented dryly.

  “Just love. That’s all.”

  “The words of an optimist.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Except the optimist is out here in the middle of nowhere, alone.”

  “Because being out here in the middle of nowhere, alone, is what makes the optimist happy.” And sad. “I live my life, David, and that’s all I do. I don’t involve others, don’t have expectations of others, don’t let others disappoint me, and I don’t let others get involved. It’s as simple as that. And before you go fixing some great psychological label on it, or try to diagnose my psyche, I’ll answer your question before you ask it. I spent a lifetime being dominated by a man who told me who I was and what I could or could not do. So many expectations for me to be who I was not. Now I don’t have that, and if the way I live seems odd, so be it. But there’s no one hovering over me any more, no one telling me who I am. And when I was growing up, that was my aspiration. My only aspiration. Not to be a ballerina, or a nurse, or a teacher. I wanted to be me, however that turned out.”