please, God, don’t let him be dead.
Her heart thumping, her feet crunched on the frozen grass and she dropped to her knees next to his body, trying to subdue the panic that was bubbling up inside her. It had been years since she’d done any A and E work and even then it had only been when she’d been training. But she knew the principles, she reminded herself firmly. ABC. Airway, breathing, circulation.
The cold from the ground oozed up and numbed her knees, but she didn’t even notice.
‘The ambulance is on its way.’ The young man was back by her side. ‘Here, let me help you take his helmet off.’
‘No!’ Lucy reached out a hand to stop him touching the injured motorcyclist, her voice sharper than she’d intended. ‘You should never remove the helmet unless breathing is compromised. The helmet is supporting his neck and if we take it off…’
She wasn’t qualified to help this man.
She was a practice nurse, for goodness’ sake, not a paramedic.
Airway—she had to check his airway.
She leaned closer and just at that moment the man groaned and muttered something.
Lucy let out a long breath. He was talking. Surely that had to be a good sign?
‘Hello? Can you tell me where it hurts?’
She cringed as she listened to herself. What a stupid question to ask someone who’d been thrown from a bike. It probably hurt everywhere…
‘Leg.’
Leg.
Lucy ran her eyes down his legs and saw the nasty gash in the leathers and the mass of blood gathering there. She wrenched off her gloves and thrust them into her pocket, her fingers shifting the leathers so that she could take a closer look.
Blood spurted into the air.
‘Oh, no!’ She pressed down on the leg hard and turned to the man from the car, noticing that he was looking slightly green. She felt slightly green, too. She’d never seen such a severe laceration. Despite the protection of the leathers, his thigh had been badly torn, presumably because he’d been thrown across the tarmac. ‘You need to go to my car, quickly. Fetch the bag on the back seat.’
‘And don’t pass out on me,’ she muttered under her breath as she watched him go.
The motorcyclist moaned again and tried to move.
‘Try and keep still,’ Lucy said urgently, wishing that she could hold his hand to reassure him. Unfortunately, both her hands were occupied in preventing him from bleeding to death. ‘You’re going to be just fine. I’m a nurse and there’s an ambulance on the way. Everything is going to be fine…’
She said it to reassure herself as much as him, and she reflected briefly on the ridiculous things people said when they were trying to reassure each other.
Everything was far from fine.
‘Here’s your bag.’ The young man was back beside her, looking at her expectantly.
She almost laughed aloud. Did he expect her bag to contain magic powers?
Weighed down by the knowledge that everyone was depending on her, she glanced over her shoulder towards the road, desperately praying that the ambulance would arrive quickly, but there was nothing but an eerie winter silence.
Which meant that the man’s life depended on her and the very inadequate contents of her practice nurse’s bag.
Lucy glanced down at her hands, which were slippery with the man’s blood. There was no way she could let go.
‘Inside the side pockets you’ll find some sterile dressing pads,’ she instructed, noticing that underneath the helmet the injured man was ghostly pale. He was losing a lot of blood and needed some fluids fast.
And she didn’t have any—what else should she do?
Elevate the bleeding part—but what with?
This situation was way beyond her experience. And well beyond a few dressing pads.
Where on earth was the ambulance?
Her heart still thudding, Lucy snatched the pads from the young man and pressed down on the wound again.
‘There should be a bandage in there, too,’ she muttered. She had to stem the bleeding and she really ought to take another look at the two in the car.
‘Do you need help?’
The deep voice came from behind her and she turned her head, blinking at the raw, male power of the man in front of her. Black leathers outlined broad, muscular shoulders and long, powerful legs. Another motorcyclist?
He dragged off his helmet, revealing cropped dark hair and a pair of cool blue eyes that took in the situation in one glance. He dropped to his haunches and his face was close enough for her to see the dark growth shadowing the line of his hard jaw. He obviously hadn’t shaved recently. She frowned at her own thoughts and shook herself. Someone’s life was at risk and she was wondering when this man had last shaved?
Was she going completely mad?
It must be the shock.
‘Did you see it happen?’ His sharp tone brought her quickly back to the present and she shook her head.
‘No. But from the damage to the front of the car I guess it must have hit him.’ She tried to stop her teeth chattering. ‘The roads are very icy.’
Those cool blue eyes flickered to the car, his expression serious. ‘How many in the car?’
‘Two.’
‘Have you checked them?’
‘Briefly.’ Lucy responded without question to the authority in his voice. ‘They were both shouting and yelling so I thought that this man seemed more urgent.’
Dear God, she hoped she’d done the right thing. Her first aid was very rusty. What if the people in the car died because of her?
But this motorcyclist would definitely die if she moved her hands.
She swallowed. ‘This man has got a nasty laceration on his thigh and he’s bleeding from an artery. Oh, God, look…’ She stared helplessly at the pads under her fingers, which were already soaked through with blood. ‘What do we do?’
‘You keep pressing while I elevate the limb…’ The man wedged something under the injured leg and then briefly examined the young man with a skill and confidence that left her in no doubt as to his profession.
‘You’re a doctor,’ she mumbled with relief, and he gave her a brief smile.
‘For my sins.’ His gaze returned to the injured man. ‘This chap needs fluids urgently. How long ago did you call the ambulance?’
Lucy bit her
