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Jackie grasped the door handle and tugged. “How about you?” she asked the mother. “Are you all right?”
“I’m okay. Just please, please, look after Brayden.”
Jackie wasn’t convinced. The woman had the beginnings of a bruise on her forehead. But she was conscious and talking and able to move. That made the son the priority right now.
The door jammed. She put a foot against the car and tugged with all her might. To her amazement, the door fell to the road. She leaned in for a closer look at the boy. His respirations were rapid and shallow.
“Hi there, Brayden. That’s quite a nasty cut you have.” She was glad to see his eyelids flutter when she spoke to him. Pulling off her cardigan, she used it to stem the flow of blood. His mother was at Jackie’s side now, having extracted herself from the car.
“Is he going to be okay?”
“I think so.” She hadn’t had a chance to inspect for other injuries yet. She had thick absorbent pads and bandages in her kit and did her best to dress the wound. As she worked, she spoke calmly to the mother.
“We need to stop the flow of blood until help arrives.” The matronly woman stared at her blankly, probably in mild shock.
“Here.” Jackie took one of the woman’s hands and placed it over the bandaged wound. “You need to apply firm, direct pressure right here. Can you do that?”
The woman nodded.
“Good. Help will be here soon and your son will be fine. Be strong.” She clasped a hand on the woman’s shoulder, then slipped on her stethoscope to continue her examination.
The boy’s pulse was fast, but thready. She took one of his hands and squeezed it gently. “Can you hear me, Brayden? If you’re too tired to talk, then squeeze my fingers.”
Nothing. He was probably in shock, too.
“Do you have anything warm in your van?” she asked the mother.
“A sleeping bag from my son’s sleep-over last weekend.”
“Great. Can you get it?” She kept pressure on the wound and managed to recline the boy’s seat to a supine position while the mother found the sleeping bag.
“Here it is.”
“Keep him warm,” she told the woman, then, noticing that she had started to shake, added, “Actually, why don’t you crawl under that sleeping bag with him?”
Moving on, she saw several people with minor injuries: a man with an obviously fractured arm, a woman with superficial abrasions on her face. They could wait.
The motorcycle cop who’d let her go earlier had cordoned off the accident site and was trying to clear a lane for the emergency vehicles, without much success. She saw him glance her way and nod. She nodded back, then tore off her soiled gloves and replaced them with a clean pair.
A male driver in his fifties moaned for help from his badly damaged Volvo. He’d managed to open his door and now he was crying, “Oh, my God. It hurts so bad. I know I’m going to die!”
Eyeing his pallor and noting the way he was clutching his left shoulder with his right hand, Jackie was immediately concerned. “Sir, I’m a nurse. Maybe I can help. Can you tell me what the problem is?”
“The pressure…” he gasped. “I can hardly breathe.”
“In your chest?”
He nodded.
“And your arm?”
He nodded again.
“Any history of heart disease, sir?”
“Yeah. I have angina. About five years ago I had a heart attack. It was just like this. Oh, God, I’m going to die this time, I know it.”
“Do you have your nitro spray?”
“In the glove compartment. I can’t—”
“That’s okay. I’ll get it.” She ran to the other door and quickly found the spray. “Here. Take this.”
He eagerly sprayed two shots under his tongue. Almost immediately he showed improvement. As an added precaution, Jackie gave him an aspirin to chew, then she flagged down an uninjured accident victim and asked her to sit with the man until the paramedics arrived. She scribbled quickly on a Post-It note from her kit and handed it to the quiet young woman.
“Give this to the paramedics when they arrive so they’ll know what I’ve done.” She patted the man’s hand reassuringly, then moved on again.
This time she could hear a woman calling for help. “Get me out of here! Get me out!”
She was in the front seat of a small two-door car and several people were trying to open one of the doors without success. Jackie rushed over.
When they saw her first-aid kit and the stethoscope strung around her neck, the group of people stepped aside to allow Jackie access to the driver’s side of the totaled vehicle. The damage to the car was so severe, it seemed impossible the woman inside could still be alive. But she was alive, and conscious, too, though frantic with fear, pain or probably both.
“My legs are trapped. I can’t move them!”
The woman was strapped in her seat and her air bag had deployed, saving her from massive head and neck injuries. But Jackie didn’t discount the possibility that there could be injury to the spinal cord.
“I know you must be in terrible pain, miss, but we’d better not move you until the paramedics show up. Can you wiggle your toes?” she asked hopefully.
“Nothing! Am I going to be paralyzed?”
She was good-looking, probably in her mid-twenties. “Perhaps you’ve lost feeling due to a lack of circulation,” Jackie said, offering hope. She glanced around at the crowd. “Anyone got any thick jackets, towels or blankets?”
“I have some towels. They’re a little damp…” A woman in a sundress, who’d obviously spent the day on the beach, offered two striped towels from a wicker bag.
“That’s fine.” Jackie took them gratefully and did her best to immobilize the young woman’s neck.
The reassuring sounds of sirens were all around them now. But how were the ambulances going to be able to transport these people to the hospital with any speed? The traffic snarl continued on both sides of the highway for as far as she could see. She wondered if her brother Nate was on duty today. Boy, she could sure use his help out here.
Jackie stood, pressing a hand firmly to the side of her neck where the muscles were throbbing now. She’d worked her way right up to the tractor-trailer unit. The driver seemed to be okay. He was upright in the sideways cab, free of his seat belt and talking to two men who’d emerged from their wrecked vehicles to give him a blast.
Over on the far left, she watched as the paramedics spilled from two ambulances. Jackie almost cried with relief when she saw her tall, dark-haired younger brother emerge from the first vehicle, dressed in his navy uniform.
“Nate!”
Somehow, above all the noise and commotion, he heard her. She saw him frown.
“Jackie? What the hell…?”
She wound her way through the maze of demolished cars and accident victims. “I was here when it happened, Nate. My car is probably totaled, but I’m fine.”
Her brother engulfed her in a hug and she winced at the pain that shot from her neck down her shoulder. She pulled away gently. “I’ve been around to most of the serious victims.” She told him about the bleeding boy who was in shock, the man who was almost for sure having a heart attack, the trapped young woman who couldn’t feel her legs.
“Good work, Jackie.” Nate patted her shoulder, already signaling the other paramedics where to go. She left her brother to do his job, thankful that he was here, though still concerned about the inevitable long transport times.
About to make her way back to her car, Jackie paused when she heard a faint wail. Unlike the cries and moans around her, this one was higher pitched and as steady as a stream of water from a faucet. The sound was unmistakable to anyone who’d heard it before.
A baby.
Jackie’s heart jammed up in her throat. The cry was coming from the other side of the tipped trailer. Dropping to her knees, she could see the front end of a station wagon that had been trapped under the collapsed rig. She tried calling out to the mother or father of the infant, but no one responded.
Sick fear momentarily froze her as she eyed the huge barrier that stood in her way. She had to get to that baby. But the vehicle was sandwiched between the overturned rig and the burned-out sedan.
Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned and looked up with disbelief. It was the motorcycle cop. He’d removed his helmet and his light brown hair was damp with sweat.
Their eyes met with common understanding. He’d heard the cries, too.
“You a doctor?”
“Nurse.”
He paused, then nodded. “Okay, then. Let’s help that kid.” He laced his fingers and, without a second thought, she placed her sandaled foot on the perch.
“One, two, three…” He heaved as she reached up and soon she was standing on what had once been the side of the trailer. She scrambled quickly across it, the metal hard on her bare knees. The cop followed. He was right next to her when she finally spotted the remains of the trapped vehicle. The front half was completely crushed under the back end of the trailer. In the rear seat, she could see the outline of an infant carrier.
“Shit.”
She shared the cop’s opinion.
He held out his hand again and helped her down to solid ground. “Be careful of the glass,” he said. He shrugged out of his leather jacket and used it to kneel on so he could take a look inside the front seat of the car.
She turned away, focusing on the wailing baby. The rear door was jammed, but the window had smashed into a million pieces. Heeding the cop’s warning, she slipped off a sandal and used it to sweep away the residue. Thanks to safety regulations, vehicles were now manufactured with window glass that disintegrated into relatively harmless pebbles. Still, she was careful to ensure that the glass pellets fell to the ground and not into the car with the baby.
“Hey, sweetie,” she called softly. “Are you okay in there?”
The wailing halted, but only for a split second. She was encouraged that the baby had responded, even momentarily, to the sound of her voice. She leaned in through the window for a closer look.
“Oh, God.” Instinctively she pulled back. Closed her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Still on the ground trying to see into the front seat, the cop must have heard her cry out.
“This baby’s only a few months old. His face is covered with blood.” She steeled herself to reach out to the infant. Pulling aside the blue blanket he’d been wrapped in allowed her a closer look at his face. Shattered glass lay all around him, but not from the window. These shards were from something else.
She spotted the plastic frame of a mirror and shook her head at the mother’s foolishness.
“You’re going to be okay, sweetie. Let me see if I can get you out of that car seat.” She would have preferred to leave him in the padded carrier, but no way would she be able to get the awkward thing through the window. Quickly she released the metal catch at the bottom, then pushed aside the canvas straps.
“Okay, baby. You’re coming out.” As gently as possible, she lifted the light little thing from the seat and through the window.
Finally the wailing stopped as she held the child in her arms. There were more cuts on his arms and legs, and some on his scalp, too. Jackie checked for slivers of glass, wishing for a table, direct lighting and good quality sterilized tweezers.
“He okay?” The cop was standing again. Keeping a careful distance from her and the baby, he shook the glass out of his jacket, then slipped it back on.
Jackie continued her inspection of the infant. “Lots of lacerations, but most of them superficial, I hope. I’m most worried about his eyes.”
Both were puffy, but the right one was also bleeding. She mopped up the blood with some gauze and saw that his eyelid was lacerated and, even worse, a fragment of glass appeared lodged in his cornea.
She wrapped the blue blanket around his tiny body, frowning at the way the little guy turned his head from the slightest exposure to sunlight.
Not a good sign. Poor babe.
“If his injuries are as extensive as I fear, he needs to be seen by a surgeon right away.” What she could see of the injury was bad enough. But she was more worried about potential damage to the internal ocular structures.
“Poor kid.”
She thought the cop was referring to the baby’s injuries, but then she noticed his gaze dwelling on the front half of the crushed vehicle.
Oh, no. “The driver?”
He shook his head gravely. “I’m afraid the baby’s mother is dead.”
CHAPTER THREE
LIFE WAS SO UNFAIR. Jackie knew this. But why, why did the mother of a helpless infant have to die in such a senseless manner?
Jackie’s parents had been killed in an accident, too, when she was just a toddler. Her heart went out to the little one in her arms, who wouldn’t have even a vague memory of his mother’s voice to sustain him in his life.
“His eyes are really getting puffy,” the cop observed, folding back a corner of the blanket to get a look at the infant’s blood-smeared face.
Was this kid going to end up blind on top of everything else? Not if she could help it. “We’ve got to get him to the ER. But look at this mess!”
To the far left, a painfully slow procession of emergency vehicles was finally showing up on the scene. But it would be a while before they were able to deliver patients to the hospital.
“I could transport you pretty fast on my bike.” He pointed. “It’s back about fifty yards.”
Jackie didn’t hesitate. At this point there were no other reasonable options. “Let’s do it.”
The cop took the baby, freeing her to scramble back over the rig. On an impulse, she’d grabbed the diaper bag in the car, and now slipped it over her shoulder, then reached out for the baby so the cop could follow. In less than a minute they’d woven their way to his parked bike.
“My helmet won’t fit you,” he apologized. And of course they had nothing for the baby. “But I’ll get you there safe.”
Their eyes met, and in those few seconds she reminded herself that though this man was a cop, he was also a stranger. She knew nothing about him except what she’d seen since the accident.
But what she had seen inspired trust. He was tall, fit and strong, and so far he’d reacted to every situation they’d encountered with calm intelligence, unselfish bravery.
“Let’s do it.” Without another word, she slid onto the back of his bike, the baby sandwiched between them. Placing one hand on his firm shoulder, clutching the infant with the other, she took a deep breath. “Okay.”
He glanced back once, to make sure she was securely seated, then took off, hugging the shoulder of the road. They passed the sedan that had been burning briskly earlier. Firefighters had managed to haul a hose across the highway and extinguish the flames. Now they were using crowbars to pry off the passenger door.
Jackie turned away. She didn’t want an accidental glimpse of whatever charred remains were found in that car. She’d already seen so much pain and suffering, and she knew this was only the beginning. When she made it to the hospital, she would be starting a twelve-hour shift. The people being carried by stretchers into those ambulances would soon be her patients.
Her neck was killing her now. The motorcycle might be a speedy and efficient mode of transportation, but it didn’t offer a smooth ride.
Glancing down at the baby tucked against her chest, she saw that the little guy had been lulled to sleep by the movement and noise. Poor wee thing. Please let him be okay.
Beneath her left hand, the cop’s shoulder felt rigid. Strong. She couldn’t resist leaning her head against his back for support. He didn’t seem to mind, so she let herself relax against him. It was lucky for her—and this baby—that he’d been on the scene so quickly.
She wondered what his name was, whether he had a family. She guessed he was around her age. She hadn’t thought about his looks earlier, but they had registered in some far corner of her mind. Now she recalled light-brown eyes, a high forehead, a mouth that would look fabulous when he smiled.
So far he hadn’t had much reason to smile. But she guessed by the faint lines around the corners of his lips that he usually did.
But why was she thinking about him like this? He was probably married. Weren’t most people by the time they turned thirty?
She had been married when she was twenty-five.
With lights flashing and sirens blaring, they were attracting quite a lot of attention. People on the sidewalk paused to stare. Cars pulled over to make room and drivers stuck their necks out open windows.
She’d never been so glad to see the pale stucco facade of Courage Bay Hospital. Fortunately the bay driveway to emergency was clear, except for a large white van. As the cop cruised in closer, she noticed the call numbers of a local TV station, KSEA, painted in bold colors on the back of the van. Just then, a camera flash went off in her eyes. She winced and held the baby closer. The cop glided his bike past the reporter, over the sidewalk, right up to the ER doors.
Turning to her, he asked, “You okay?”
She nodded.
“Sorry if that was a little rough.”
The journalists were back, this time with video cameras. The cop put up an arm to block her from their view. “Excuse me, ma’am…sir,” he said in a polite but firm tone, “but we’ve got a medical emergency here.”
“Is the baby okay?”
“Are you the baby’s mother?”
“What’s the situation back at the accident scene? Anybody killed?”
From under the cop’s protective arm, Jackie did her best to ignore the questions. Inside the ER, she was finally on home turf and knew exactly what to do. She raced to the admittance desk. Stout, gray-haired Izzy was working triage today.
“What’s wrong, Jackie?” She eyed the bundle in her arms. “Who is that?”
“I have no idea.”
“Oh, my Lord. Here.” Izzy passed a clean tissue for Jackie to mop up the fresh blood on the baby’s face. “What happened?”
“I was in a car crash on the PCH.”
“We heard about that. We’re expecting the ambulances shortly. So you got caught in the pileup? How terrible. And the poor baby…Oh, my Lord, he doesn’t look older than a couple of months.”
Jackie lowered her voice. “His mother died in the crash. I think he may have a glass shard embedded in his right cornea. I haven’t had a chance to examine him properly yet.”
Izzy gave her another clean tissue. “We’ll get a pediatrician right away. How’d you get here so fast?” Izzy’s gaze slid over to the police officer.
He nodded and held out his hand. “Officer Guthrie.” He turned to Jackie and added, “Casey Guthrie.”
She had to swallow before she could reply in kind. “I’m Jackie Kellison.”
It only took a few seconds to exchange their names, but Jackie had the weird sense of falling into a time vortex where the moment felt long and heavy with importance. Then the baby stirred in her arms.
She faced Izzy again. “Officer Guthrie was the first one on the scene. He gave us a ride on his motorbike.”
“Well, that explains the hairdo.”
Jackie supposed more hair was out of her ponytail than in. She’d also lost her sunglasses in the fray and her cotton shorts and blouse were smeared with blood. None of that mattered at the moment.
Izzy shoved aside the paperwork she’d been dealing with. “Come on, we’ll get that little one into an examining room.” She glanced back at the cop still standing by her desk. “Nice to have met you, Officer Guthrie.”
The baby started crying again and Jackie hurried after Izzy. She managed one last glance at the motorcycle cop, regretting she’d had no chance to say a proper goodbye. They’d made a good team.
He smiled at her, and his smile was nice, just as she’d thought. Too bad she probably wouldn’t see him again.
IN THE SMALL examining room, Jackie was finally able to take a good look at her patient. While waiting for the physician, she cleaned the abrasions on the baby’s face and hands, ensuring that she hadn’t missed any tiny pieces of glass. Tenderly she undressed the fussing infant, inhaling with mild surprise when she unfastened the diaper. Well, the baby was a girl. And her diaper was sodden. When had her mother last changed it?
Jackie cleaned the bright pink bottom gently, noticing an oval-shaped birthmark on one chubby thigh. The child was working herself into a frenzy again. Would the damn doctor never get here?
CASEY LINGERED IN THE ER waiting room for a while. He made a call to the station and confirmed that since he’d been officially off duty for the past hour, he wouldn’t be part of the team investigating the collision.
He passed on the information about the burning sedan, how there’d been a second explosion following the first. He’d seen cars catch fire because of a leaking fuel line before, but this one hadn’t fit the pattern.
After he’d concluded that call, he made another, leaving a message at the hotel where his friends were staying. “Sorry, something came up at work. A collision on PCH. I won’t be able to join you guys tonight.”
There was really no reason for him to cancel. He still had time to get home and shower and go out tonight. But he didn’t want to leave the hospital.
He wanted to make sure the baby was okay. Yeah, that was part of it, but he didn’t try to kid himself that that was the whole reason.
Truth was, he wanted to see that nurse again. Jackie Kellison. Hell, she sure was something. She’d been unstoppable at the accident scene. He was willing to bet she’d saved more than one life today with her quick thinking and fast action.
Never mind that she’d been a victim in the accident herself. Beyond the emotional distress of the experience, she’d obviously suffered whiplash. He’d noticed her holding her head tighter and tighter as time went on. That ride on his bike must have been murder.
He’d liked the way she’d rested her head on his back, though. He had a feeling Jackie didn’t lean on many people and he was glad he’d been one of them.
Anyway, she’d been in the accident and helped all those people at the scene, and now it appeared she was prepared to put in her full shift. Which only made him admire her more.
The desperate crescendo of sirens told him the accident victims were finally about to arrive. Tired after his long day, yet unable to relax, Casey began pacing. He wished there was something he could do to help. Waiting wasn’t his strong suit.
Perhaps he ought to go home and have that shower, and maybe a good long nap, too. But he couldn’t take the chance of missing Jackie, so he bought himself a coffee from the vending machine, then found he couldn’t drink it.
He tossed out the paper cup, wondering why he didn’t just go on his way. Izzy was shooting him quizzical glances, as if she, too, couldn’t figure out why he was still hanging around. She’d come over earlier to tell him the baby was about to go into the operating room. Later, she’d be transferred to the hospital’s infant care wing.
She. Despite the blue blanket, the baby was a girl. Shouldn’t have made any difference, but somehow he’d felt even more protective once he’d heard that. He hoped the doctor operating on her was good, that he was well rested and at the top of his game.
An hour went by, maybe two. Finally his patience was rewarded when Jackie came out to grab a can of cola from a vending machine in the hall. Dressed in scrubs, she leaned against the machine with exhaustion, a hand on her neck as she waited for the can to drop.
“Sore, huh?”
Her head shot up at his unexpected presence and she winced.
“Sorry. Shouldn’t have snuck up on you.” He wanted to make her sit down for a minute. Maybe get some ice for that neck. Or massage it for her. Instead he leaned over to snag her cola out of the machine. When he handed it to her, she pressed the cool can against the side of her neck.
“You should be at home, looking after yourself.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted. “It’s just a pulled muscle. I consider myself lucky.”