across her face, she was wearing a lace bra and jeans and not much else.
She still looked stunning.
‘Don’t talk,’ she said urgently. ‘Not until you’re scrubbed and can stay with her. She heard you then and she wants to get up.’
That hauled him back into medical mode. He nodded and moved to the sink, fast. He knew the last thing they needed was for Bonnie to struggle, even so much as raise her head.
‘It’s okay, girl, it’s okay.’ In the quiet he heard Zoe’s whisper. She wasn’t so much holding Bonnie down as caressing her down, her face inches from Bonnie’s, her hands folding the great, silky ears.
He had no doubt that this was the woman who’d saved his dog’s life. He’d seen her in the distance, picking Bonnie up and carrying her up the beach. From far out in the surf he hadn’t realised how slight she was. And the blood…If she’d walked into Gold Coast Central’s Emergency Department looking like that she’d have the whole department pushing Code Blue.
He glanced at the floor and saw the remains of her shirt, ripped and twisted into a pad and ties. That explained why she was only wearing a bra.
She’d done this for his dog?
Was she a vet nurse? If so, how lucky was he that she’d been on the beach?
Luck? He glanced again at Bonnie and thought he needed more.
Doug was injecting the anaesthetic. Sam dried, gloved, and took over the intubation. Zoe stood aside to give him room then moved seamlessly into assistance mode.
She was obviously a vet nurse, and a good one. She was watching Doug, anticipating his needs, often pre-empting his curt orders. Swift, sure and competent.
Doug was good, too. He’d met this guy before and thought he was a competent vet in a family vet practice. His work now said that he was more than competent to do whatever was needed.
They worked solidly. With fluid balance restored, Bonnie’s vital signs settled. Doug had all the equipment needed to do a thorough assessment and a full set of X-rays revealed more luck.
Her left hind leg was badly broken and so were a couple of ribs, but apart from the mass of lacerations that seemed the extent of the major damage.
Her blood pressure was steadying, which meant major internal bleeding was unlikely. Amazingly, there seemed little more damage.
‘I can plate that leg,’ Doug said curtly. ‘It’s easier than trying to keep her off it for weeks. If you’ll assist…’
Of course he’d assist. Sam was almost starting to hope.
He thought of the buggy crashing down on Bonnie, and he thought this outcome was either luck or a miracle. Either way he was very thankful.
And that this girl had been there as well…
She hardly spoke. She looked white-faced and shocked but her competence was never in question. Doug was a man of few words. He worked and Sam worked with him, and the white-faced girl worked as well.
They needed the full team of three. With Bonnie anaesthetised and seemingly stable, Doug decided to work on to do whatever was necessary.
‘Otherwise I’ll be hauling a team in to do this tomorrow,’ Doug said. ‘That’s two doses of anaesthetic and with both of you here I don’t see why I need to do that.’
Zoe wasn’t asking questions. She must be desperate for a bath and a strong cup of tea with loads of sugar—or something stronger, he thought—but she didn’t falter. Sam hadn’t seen her before, but he had only been at the Gold Coast for a year. He’d brought Bonnie to the vet twice in that time, for routine things. Two visits were hardly enough to know the staff.
He’d like to be able to tell her to go and have a wash, he thought, but she was needed. She’d scrubbed and gloved and was ignoring the fact that she was only in bra and jeans. She looked shocked and sick, but she was professional and capable.
And she still looked…stunning. It was the only word he could think of to describe her. A bit too thin. Huge eyes. A bit…frail?
Gorgeous.
What would she look like without the gore?
But he only had fragments of time to think about the woman beside him. Most of the time he forgot, too, that he was in board shorts and nothing else.
There was only Bonnie.
This was no simple break. Bonnie’s leg would be plated for life.
Sam was no orthopaedic surgeon but he knew enough to be seriously impressed by Doug’s skill. The fractured tibia was exposed and Doug took all the time he needed to remove free-floating fragments. He was encircling the remaining fragments with stainless steel, bending the plate to conform to the surface of the bone then drilling to fix bone screws. He checked and checked again, working towards maximum stability, examining placement of every bone fragment to ensure as much natural healing—bone melding to bone—as he could. Finally he started the long process of suturing the leg closed.
Which was just as well, Sam thought. Zoe looked close to the edge.
Bu they still needed her. She was doing the job of two nurses, assisting, preparing equipment, anticipating every need.
Bonnie was so lucky with her rescue team. The big dog lay under their hands and he thought he couldn’t have asked for a more highly-skilled partnership.
He owed this girl so much. If there was back-up he’d stand her down now, but there was no one. She’d already done more than he could ever expect—and he was asking more.
But finally they were done. Doug stepped back from the table and wiped a sleeve over his forehead.
‘I reckon she’ll make it,’ he said softly, and as he said it Sam saw Zoe’s eyes close.
She was indeed done. She swayed and he moved instinctively to grab her—this wouldn’t be the first time a nurse or doctor passed out after coping with a tense and bloody procedure. But then she had control of herself again, and was shaking him off and moving aside so Doug could remove the breathing tube.
‘I…That’s great,’ she whispered. ‘If it’s okay with you, I might leave you to it.’
‘Yeah, you look like a bomb site,’ Doug said bluntly. ‘Take her home, Sam, and then come back. Bonnie’ll take a while to wake. I won’t leave her and you can be back before she needs reassuring.’
‘I have my car…’ Zoe said.
‘I’ve seen your car and I’m looking at you,’ Doug said drily. ‘You drive through town looking like that you’ll have the entire Gold Coast police force thinking there’s been an axe murder. Leave the keys here. I’ll park it round the back and you can fetch it tomorrow. Where do you live?’
‘The hospital apartments,’ she said. ‘They’re only two blocks away. I can drive.’
‘You tell me those legs aren’t shaking,’ Doug retorted. ‘You’ve done a
