‘Of course I don’t.’ Dan felt a spark of anger. Where had she got that idea? He gave a tight shrug. ‘I was out of line earlier. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.’
Lindsey felt her whole bearing soften. His ownership of his lapse was more, much more than she’d expected. She lifted her chin and met his gaze, suddenly aware they were close, too close for comfort. What was he thinking? She couldn’t tell. His eyes were clouded with uncertainty. Out of nowhere, Lindsey felt a twist of uncertainty herself. She hated being out of sync with any of her colleagues. Hated it. ‘Stuff happens in Casualty.’ She gave an open-handed shrug. ‘Don’t beat yourself up.’
‘Thank you.’ Dan felt the ton weight lift from him. He gave a tight smile. ‘Put it down to an off day. We all have them, don’t you agree?’
‘I guess we do,’ Lindsey said carefully. And if she was any judge of the human condition, he was still having an off day. He seemed a bit...desperate, for want of a better word. Edgy. And there were shadows beneath his eyes. Again. If anyone needed a hug, it was Dan Rossi. But that would be totally out of order. Unprofessional. And embarrass the socks off him. She looked away quickly. In seconds, the tenor of her day had changed completely. What was going on here had no rhyme nor reason. It was just...happening. And she felt she was jumping fences ten feet high and couldn’t stop. It was an extraordinary sensation.
Dan swallowed through a very dry throat. She had her hair twisted into a topknot and flyaway strands were coming loose. He wondered what it would look like if she were to let it tumble down, releasing the scent of the flowery shampoo she used. It wasn’t going to happen. In an almost reflex action she reached up, pushing the wayward strands back in. Dan fisted his hands, resisting the urge to do it for her. ‘So, what’s on the agenda?’
Lindsey put her nurse’s head on quickly. ‘We have a little kid waiting for sutures. Michelle and Andrew are presently treating a youth with burns, the result of walking barefoot on coals after a bush barbecue. If you’d rather take over there and have one of them see the child...?’
‘No, no.’ Dan frowned a bit. ‘Our junior doctors need to gather experience. I’ll see the child. Point me in the right direction.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ she said, as Vanessa took over the station.
‘Fill me in,’ he said, as they walked towards the cubicles.
‘Preschooler, Michael Woods. He was chasing a ball out of bounds, tripped and hit his chin on the edge of a brick garden bed. Fair bit of blood. Panic stations and the school rang mum. She’s with him.’
‘Good. She’ll be a calming influence.’
Lindsey chuckled. ‘You hope.’
‘Are you saying it’s the mothers we have to be afraid of, Lindsey?’
Lindsey turned her head and caught his gaze. She blinked a bit. Unless she was mistaken, there was actually a curve happening to one corner of his mouth. On impulse, she sent him a full-blown smile in return, urged on by a feeling of oneness with him she couldn’t explain. ‘I’ve met a few.’
* * *
Five-year-old Michael was sitting on the edge of the treatment couch, his small legs swinging rhythmically back and forth. He didn’t look overly upset, Lindsey noted thankfully, although the blotches of dried blood on his T-shirt indicated it had been a heavy bump to his chin.
Dan smiled at the mother. ‘Mrs Woods? I’m Dan Rossi. I’ll be the doctor looking after Michael.’
‘I’m Stephanie.’ Michael’s mother kept her arm protectively around her little boy’s shoulders. She gave a wry smile. ‘He’s a bit of a tornado in the playground.’
‘So, you like playing footy, Michael?’ Dan asked.
‘I can kick the ball as high as the house,’ Michael declared, aiming upwards with one small arm.
‘Fantastic.’ Dan looked impressed.
Lindsey gave him a tick of approval for keeping things light and thereby gaining their small patient’s trust. Unobtrusively, she gloved and said quietly, ‘I’ll pop that sticking plaster off Michael’s chin, shall I, Dr Dan?’
‘Let’s do that.’ Almost casually, Dan hooked over a mobile stool and snapped on gloves. He sat in front of Michael. His eyes narrowed slightly. The removal of the plaster had revealed a gaping hole underneath. The mother’s gasp was audible. ‘Easily fixed.’ Dan’s tone was gently reassuring. Tilting Michael’s chin, he examined the damage more closely. The edges of the wound were uniform. They would align nicely. It would be a neat scar.
‘Is he OK?’ Stephanie asked anxiously.
‘His bite seems even,’ Dan responded. ‘And his baby teeth all seem in place. I’ll put a stitch or two in his chin and he should be as right as rain.’
Gently, Lindsey positioned Michael for the suturing procedure, laying him back with his head at the end of the bed.
Dan rolled across the trolley containing the instruments he’d need and switched on an overhead light. ‘Now, Michael, this is where you have to be as brave as the best footy player in the world,’ Dan said, flicking up the syringe of local anaesthetic.
Michael’s blue eyes lit up. ‘Like David Beckham.’
Dan huffed a laugh. ‘That’s the guy. Now, if you lie very still for me while I make your chin better, I’m sure I can find an amazing sticker you can wear on your shirt tomorrow and show the kids at preschool.’
‘My shirt’s all dirty,’ Michael said with childish logic.
‘Honey, we’ll find you a clean one to wear.’ Stephanie smiled at her son and held his hand tightly.
Dan looked up. ‘Lindsey, if you would, please?’
She nodded. The injection of the lignocaine would sting and be a shock to the little one. ‘Squeeze Mummy’s hand hard, Michael,’ she said, placing herself gently across the child’s body in case he tried to wriggle free.
In a few seconds the local had been injected and they waited a couple of minutes for it to take effect. Dan prodded the wound gently in several places. ‘Can you feel anything hurting, Michael?’
Eyes squeezed shut, Michael said, ‘No...’
‘Good boy. Keep holding Mummy’s hand and we’ll be finished in no time.’
In a short time Lindsey watched Dan snip the last suture close to the skin. ‘There you are, sweetheart.’ She gave the little shoulder a gentle pat. ‘All finished.’
‘Can I get my sticker now?’
Dan looked a question. He’d promised one to his small patient. He just hoped they had some in the department.
‘They’re in a box at the station,’ Lindsey said right on cue. ‘Won’t be a tick.’
* * *
‘Gorgeous little boy, wasn’t he?’ Lindsey remarked lightly as she went about tidying the treatment room.
