assisted him. ‘Len’s going to need a lot of work in Theatre.’ He glanced up, and her breath caught for a second as she met his gaze. ‘I’d recommend a femoral nerve block.’
‘Yes, I agree. Then we can get his legs splinted before X-ray.’
Nathan accepted the syringe Holly handed him, checked the dosage, then deftly inserted the needle, injecting lidocaine in a fan pattern in the thigh. ‘Any idea how long the radiographer will be, Annie?’
‘I’m here,’ a voice announced, and Francesca Scott strode into the resus bay, pulling on her protective lead apron.
Tall and athletic, a riot of red corkscrew curls somehow constrained in the thick plait that fell to her waist, Francesca was unfairly dubbed the Ice Maiden by some of the hospital staff. Annie had always got on well with the other woman, however, and admired her friend’s skill and kindness to her patients.
Despite her more senior role, Annie remained silent and allowed Nathan to outline the extent of Len’s injuries. Once the femoral block had done its job, and splints had been fitted, Francesca went to work using the overhead emergency X-ray equipment now in use in the A and E department. As well as the standard precautionary lateral cervical spine and frontal chest images, she took specific pictures of Len’s pelvis and legs.
‘Can you scan his abdomen and pelvic region, too?’ Annie asked. ‘We’re querying any internal blood loss.’
Using the portable ultrasound, Francesca complied with the request, and within minutes the X-ray and scan images came up on the diagnostic screen.
‘The leg fractures are clear and extensive. But there’s no sign of pelvic fracture or internal bleeding, and no free fluids in the abdominal cavity. I think it’s just bruising,’ Francesca suggested, moving aside so that Annie and Nathan could assess the various images for themselves.
Annie frowned. The X-rays were pretty gruesome. One fibula had jagged splits and fragments in several places, while the other, and both tibias, had multiple but thankfully cleaner breaks. As Nathan had predicted, the right femur had snapped in two places—mid-shaft and just above the knee that had dislocated, its patella misplaced high and to one side, the joint swollen and distorted.
Annie was acutely aware of Nathan close to her. For an unguarded moment she found herself leaning in to inhale his unique and subtle musky aroma, masculine, sensuous and once so familiar. Horrified at her weakness, she straightened and struggled to concentrate on her job. She studiously watched the monitor readings, calling for more blood units as Len was slow to respond to the fluids he’d been given.
Thankfully, the orthopaedic registrar arrived then, tutting over the X-rays. ‘We’ll operate straight away,’ he said, before setting off with copies of the notes and images to brief his department’s senior consultant.
‘OK,’ Annie called, organising her team for their final duties. ‘Let’s get ready to transfer Len up to surgery. Thanks, Francesca. Good job, everyone.’
A further flurry of activity ensued before Len, stable but serious, was on his way to the theatre team, who would take over his care and do all they could to repair the damage to his legs.
Having taken off her protective clothing, Annie went with Holly to see the family, to explain what had happened and what was going to be done during surgery. She left Holly to escort the anxious relatives upstairs to the waiting area in the surgical suite, while she returned to Resus, noting that the first bay was still occupied. Robert and his team were still battling to save the elderly woman whose heart problems had led to the accident.
Her own team had already dispersed, to deal with less serious casualties in the main department, while a nurse remained to ensure Resus Bay Two was prepared for the next emergency. Annie paused a moment, unsettled by her feelings as she looked at Nathan. He was sitting on a stool, finishing his notes, but he smiled when he saw her, causing an uncomfortable knot to form in her chest.
‘It’s only my second day here, but already I am very impressed by the whole department.’
‘We’re a close-knit unit,’ she agreed, pleased for her colleagues at Nathan’s praise.
She scanned the notes he handed her and signed off on them, clutching the folder to her like a shield as she took a step backwards, aware that they were now alone.
‘It was like old times working with you, Annie. You’ve developed into one hell of a doctor.’ The husky edge to his voice sent a tingle down her spine. ‘And we haven’t lost that natural understanding.’
She had always enjoyed being teamed with Nathan in the past. He was naturally talented, never losing his cool in any situation, and always maintaining his compassion for the patient and his generosity towards the staff working with him. Despite her painful awareness of him, for a while there, engrossed in meeting Len’s needs, it was as if the years apart had never happened. Working in tandem, displaying the kind of instinctive understanding that only grew with trust and time, she and Nathan had been attuned to each other’s thoughts and actions. And that had been scary. She couldn’t allow Nathan to ease back into her life as if nothing had happened. It had hurt too much last time. Bare minutes after seeing him again and she was already vulnerable. She had to do whatever was necessary to protect herself, because no way could she risk her heart taking a second beating.
In consequence, she kept her voice controlled when she replied. ‘All that was a long time ago. I’m surprised you’re not a hotshot consultant by now, Nathan. I thought that was all you wanted,’ she added, unable to keep the bitter edge from her voice, but regretting her challenge as the friendliness faded from Nathan’s expression, his eyes turning hard and shuttered.
‘You had no idea what I wanted, Annie. You never shared my hopes and dreams and fears because you weren’t interested in anything but what you wanted.’
‘That’s not fair.’
‘Really?’ One eyebrow lifted sardonically. ‘What do you know about me? What do you know about my life, my goals, my feelings?’
Alarmed, wishing she had never begun this awful conversation, Annie focused on her own years of hurt. ‘So why did you put up with me then, if I was so selfish?’
‘Because I loved you. Apparently that wasn’t good enough. It had to be your way or no way.’
She stared at him, speechless with shock, both at the pain-laden softness of his words and the fact that he so clearly believed what he’d said. But he hadn’t loved her, an inner voice cried in agonised remembrance. Had he? Tears stung her eyes. If it was true, why had he rejected her? A wave of indignation swelled within her, only to vie with a disconcerting flicker of doubt. Enough doubt that she swallowed the rush of argumentative words that fought for freedom…words she would once have been unable to contain. She was older now. She had a responsible position. She wasn’t going to lower herself by reacting childishly. Squaring her shoulders, she took a steadying breath and refused to respond further, all too worried that Nathan’s accusations would play on her mind in the days ahead.
‘We’re clearly not going to agree, and rehashing things serves no purpose,’ she stated, proud of the coolness she’d managed to inject into her voice, betraying no sign of the way she was shaking inside. ‘I suggest we get back to work. We have other patients to see.’
Eager to put distance between herself and Nathan, she left Resus and returned Len’s case folder to its proper place, so the Trauma Sheet could be photocopied
