them outside as they ran with the gurney to the waiting chopper.
Esme stood back beside him, her arm protecting her face from the dust kicking up. There was no room on the chopper for them and they weren’t needed anymore. The paramedics could handle Dave and he’d soon be in the capable hands of the surgeons at the hospital.
As the door to the chopper slammed it began to lift above the mill, above the thinned forest and south toward the city. Once the helicopter was out of sight, Esme sighed.
“Well, that was more excitement than I was preparing for tonight.”
“You were amazing in there,” Carson stated. “Was your previous general practice in a large city? I rarely see cardiac tamponades in my clinic. Or did you work at a hospital under a cardio-thoracic surgeon? The way you handled that I’m surprised you didn’t become a cardio-thoracic surgeon. You had the steady hand of an experienced surgeon.”
Esme’s eyes widened and she bit her lip, before shrugging. “Sure, yeah, a cardio-thoracic surgeon mentor. So where’s Harry gone? I really want to get back home. It’s getting late. I better get my things.”
She turned and headed back into the building, her arms wrapped tight around her lithe body.
Carson sighed and followed her and helped her clean up. She didn’t engage him in any further discussion about the matter. They just disposed of soiled material and bagged up the rest of their stuff.
“Docs, I have the truck ready. I can take you back to town now,” Harry said as he wandered into the room.
“Thanks, Harry.” Carson glanced at Esme, who seemed to have relaxed and returned to herself. “You ready to go, Dr. Petersen?”
“Yes. I’m exhausted!” She smiled. “Thanks for taking us back to town, Harry.”
Harry shrugged. “It’s no problem. I don’t stay up here at the camp. I’m local.”
“Oh, you’re local, all right, Harry,” Carson teased as he picked up his bag. Harry just chuckled and they followed him out of the admin building to his pickup truck.
Now that the excitement had died down, workers were headed back to their bunks or back to the mill to work. He could hear the saws starting up again.
Esme climbed into the middle and Carson slid in beside her.
Harry turned the ignition and then rolled down his window, to lean his elbow out the side. “Yeah, the guys are a bit stressed around here. Mr. Draven is coming here tomorrow morning to inspect the mill. It’s got the boss Bartholomew on edge. With the Draven contract for his resort that will mean a lot of work. A lot of money.”
“What’s Mr. Draven’s first name?” There was an edge to Esme’s voice.
“Silas. He’s a big hotel mogul from out east,” Harry said.
“East?” There was a bit of relief in her voice.
“Do you know Mr. Draven?” Carson asked.
“N-no. Just heard of him. The name sounded familiar, but I don’t know Silas Draven.”
Somehow Carson knew that was a lie, just by the nervous tone to Esme’s voice and the way she’d sounded so relieved.
“He’s never come to the mill before,” Harry remarked. “I mean, he’s a big rich investor. Doesn’t know much about lumber mills other than what his advisors tell him, but I suspect it has something to do with competing. There’s untapped tourist resources.”
“Another hotel?” Carson asked.
Great.
It was supposed to be a simple resort community. Small and unique. Every time he heard something new about it, it was spiraling out of control. Perhaps it was the competitors that Luke had been taking up into the mountains to do surveying. More change.
Change can be good.
Only he didn’t believe that. Change only brought heartache, disaster.
Temptation.
And he glanced over at Esme, sitting beside him in the dark. She was definitely a temptation.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Fine.”
“You’re scowling.”
“I’m not. Besides, how can you tell? It’s pitch-black out there.”
“There’s a moon and the dashboard light.”
Indeed, in the flicker of light he could see her smiling at him, her eyes twinkling in the dark, and he couldn’t help but smile, even though he didn’t feel like it at the moment. Even though he knew nothing about her, being around her tonight had been a bit magical. It had been exciting and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt such a rush.
Don’t think about her like that.
“Do you think Dave will make it?” Harry asked, breaking through his thoughts.
“He should. Once he’s in the hands of a capable cardio-thoracic surgeon.” Esme leaned against the seat. “Which I’m not.”
“You said that with such force,” Carson said. “You really want to be clear that you’re not a cardio-thoracic surgeon.”
Her smile disappeared. “Because I’m not. I’m just lucky enough to have had the chance to perform that a couple of times.”
“I thought it was only once?”
Esme stiffened. “Once was an understatement.”
“Clearly, because the way you executed that procedure was superb. In fact, it looked like you’d been doing that for quite some time. Especially since you executed it without the use of an ultrasound.”
Esme snorted. “I’m just a general practitioner and I did what I had to do to save a man’s life. Can we drop the interrogation?”
“I’m not interrogating you.”
She shrugged. “I’ve told you I’ve done it a couple of times. I guess I was lucky—really there was no other choice. Dave would’ve died had I not performed it then and there.”
“You’re right. Let’s drop it.”
“Good.”
Carson turned and looked out the window, not that there was anything to see in the dark, on a logging road, in the middle of the forest, but he didn’t feel like engaging in small talk with Esme. She was maddening.
It was clear to Carson by the way she wasn’t looking at him and the way her body became tense that she wasn’t too keen on discussing the matter further. What was she hiding?
Why do you care?
Perhaps because
