Worth the Risk
Auteur·e
Sarah Morgan
Lectures
19,4K
Chapitres
10
Chapter One
ALLY was cold.
Last night, curled up with a hot chocolate in front of a cosy, flickering fire, a walk in the mountains had seemed like a good idea. Solitary. Invigorating. Good for the soul. Something she rarely had time for any more. The weather forecast had predicted a clear, fine day…
Tugging her hat further down over her ears to keep out the rising wind, she scowled at the swirling mist. How did the weatherman get away with it? If she ever got a diagnosis that wrong she’d be struck off!
With a resigned shrug she put her fingers in her mouth and gave a shrill whistle, bracing herself as a ball of fur streaked through the mist and skidded to a halt in front of her, tail wagging.
‘This was a stupid idea!’ She rammed her fingers back inside the glove before they froze, and glared at the dog. ‘I don’t know what you’re looking so pleased about—I’m in the last stages of hypothermia. Let’s call it a day.’
Dropping her hand to give him a quick pat, she turned on her heel and then stopped dead, every muscle in her body frozen into stillness. The dog growled.
‘Did you hear something, too?’ She listened again, straining her ears to pick out the sound again.
Nothing. Just the wind gusting more heavily by the minute.
Hesitation showing on her delicate features, Ally turned her head to gaze back up the path. It had come from the ghyll, a deep ravine plunging hundreds of feet down towards the valley floor.
Just the wind? Or a cry for help?
Her fingers tickled the dog’s ears. ‘It’s probably nothing, but we’d better just check. We’ll go higher up where the path is better.’
Down here the path was so badly eroded that going too close to the edge would be a quick route down to the bottom.
Her decision made, she turned on her heel and snapped her fingers at the dog, who fell into step behind her, tongue lolling. She stopped at the curve in the path and rubbed the dampness away from her face before dropping to her knees, inching as close to the vertiginous drop as she dared.
‘Are you crazy?’
Hard male fingers bit into her shoulder and wrenched her back from the edge, leaving her spread-eagled on the stony path.
Her heart galloping with shock, Ally closed her eyes briefly and then opened them again to find herself staring at a pair of long, powerful legs. Blinking several times, her eyes moved slowly upwards, past broad shoulders, past a chunky polo—which brushed a rough jawline, and finally clashed with a pair of dark, very angry eyes.
Very angry indeed. With her?
Her heart still thumping, she scrambled to her feet, ignoring his outstretched hand. No way was she going to be on the receiving end of that grip twice in one day! The man obviously didn’t know his own strength.
‘What the hell were you doing?’ His sharp question made her lift her chin defensively.
‘What did you think I was doing?’ Surely it was obvious?
‘Contemplating suicide?’
‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous!’ Ally gave him an impatient look and brushed some stones from her knees. ‘I thought I heard someone shout.’
Smooth, dark eyebrows rose. ‘So you thought you’d dive head first over the edge to investigate?’
‘I wasn’t anywhere near the edge—’
Strong fingers clamped around her wrist and jerked her back towards the head-spinning drop.
‘See that?’ He gestured with his head, a muscle working in his lean cheek as his eyes blazed into hers. ‘This path is crumbling. You were seconds away from joining them at the bottom of the mountain.’
She tugged at her wrist. ‘It’s fine here. The National Trust have—’ She broke off as his words registered. ‘You said them! So you heard something, too?’
He gave a grim nod and released her, swinging a large rucksack off his back. ‘There are two boys in trouble. They were scrambling in the ghyll.’
‘Scrambling?’ Ally’s voice rang with disbelief. ‘But we’ve had ten inches of rain in these fells since Monday. That ghyll is a difficult scramble at the best of times, but when it’s been raining it’s lethal. Were they roped up?’
He unclipped the top of his rucksack with gloved fingers, tugging the collar of his jacket higher to keep out the wind. ‘They’re just kids. I doubt they’ve even got a waterproof between them.’
‘Oh, no!’ Ally bit her lip and glanced anxiously towards the edge. ‘We need to get help for them fast.’
‘We do indeed.’ He glanced up from the rucksack and studied her, those dark eyes sweeping every inch of her face and body before lingering on the logo of her quality weatherproof jacket.
She shifted uncomfortably. Something about those eyes made her feel suddenly gauche and tongue-tied. Like an eighteen-year-old student instead of a twenty-eight-year-old doctor with responsibilities. He had gorgeous eyes. Male eyes. Eyes you could stare into and lose yourself.
She blinked. ‘We need to contact the mountain rescue team. I didn’t bring a mobile phone.’
‘I did, but there’s no signal. I already tried.’ He straightened and wiped a hand across his forehead. ‘You and your party need to go down to the bottom and use a land-line.’
‘And what will you do?’
He turned his attention back to the rucksack. ‘Get down into that ravine and do what I can for them until help arrives.’
Ally stared at him. ‘On your own?’
‘You want me to take the sheep, too?’
Ally gritted her teeth. ‘I’m suggesting that it might be wiser to wait for the mountain rescue team.’
‘They’ll take too long.’ He delved into the rucksack and dragged out a coiled rope. ‘The way those boys were equipped they’ll die of hypothermia before you even make the phone call.’
Ally rubbed a hand over her numbed cheeks. The temperature was dropping fast. ‘It’s too dangerous. You can’t climb down there on your own.’
‘You have a better idea?’
She hadn’t, not that he was exactly interested in her opinion anyway. He was too busy preparing for the descent into the ghyll, seemingly indifferent to the physical challenge it presented. Her heart missed a beat as he tugged off his hat and stuffed it into the top of his rucksack. He was heart-stoppingly handsome. Jet black hair cropped short and a firm mouth and jaw that was overwhelmingly male. For a moment Ally just stared. Then she shook herself and frowned instead. Why was she staring? She never stared at men. Never. Especially not handsome ones. They were bad news.
‘I think what you’re planning is really dangerous. How can you be so calm?’
‘You’d prefer me to panic?’
The dry amusement in his tone made her flush slightly and she wrapped her arms around her body and looked at the threatening profile of the mountains. The weather was getting worse. Much worse.
‘You’re taking a huge risk.’
He rammed a helmet onto his head and glanced at the sky, assessing the weather. ‘As long as the wind doesn’t get any stronger it should be fine, although there’s no way the RAF will be able to scramble a helicopter. If necessary we’ll have to stretcher him off.’
Ally nodded. ‘OK. Well, I’ll wait until I know you’re safely down—that way you can give me an idea of their condition before I contact the mountain rescue team.’
He gave a brief nod. ‘That makes sense. Where are the rest of your party?’
Ally shifted slightly. ‘I’m not in a party…’
There was an ominous silence. ‘You’re walking alone? In this weather?’
Her eyes avoided his. ‘Yes, but I—’
‘You crazy, irresponsible woman!’ His gloved hand captured her chin and forced her to meet his incredulous gaze. ‘You’re walking on your own in the mountains in the middle of winter? You must be nuts!’
Her eyes flashed angrily and she jerked her chin away from his hand. ‘Don’t be a hypocrite! You’re walking on your own, too, remember? And you’re about to abseil down a rock on your own, so don’t lecture me about safety!’
His jaw tightened. ‘That’s entirely different.’
Ally’s chin lifted and her eyes clashed with his. ‘Because you’re a man and I’m a woman, I suppose?’
Anger blazed in his eyes and then suddenly faded and he gave her a sheepish smile that did strange things to her insides. ‘Something like that.’
Ally swallowed hard. If he was handsome when he was angry then he was devastating when he smiled. The rapid transformation from macho condemnation to self-deprecating humour was as surprising as it was attractive.
She pulled herself together and glared at him. ‘Has anyone ever told you you’re a chauvinist?’
‘Repeatedly.’ His soft laugh warmed her insides. ‘I just happen to think it isn’t safe for a woman to be up in these mountains on her own. The weather is unpredictable and the world is full of perverts.’
‘I’m equipped for bad weather and I have a dog to take care of perverts.’ Ally stamped her feet to keep warm and met his gaze squarely. ‘So when you’ve finished indulging your prejudices perhaps we can finish working out a rescue plan.’
‘I have worked out a rescue plan.’ He hefted a rope, his mind obviously back on the job in hand. ‘But I hadn’t banked on you being on your own.’
‘Why does that make a difference?’
‘Because I was hoping for reinforcements, and one woman on her own is not reinforcements.’
Ally bristled defensively. ‘What am I, then?’
‘Frankly?’ His mouth twisted into a wry smile. ‘A liability.’
‘A liability?’ She gaped at him and he shrugged without a trace of apology.
‘I don’t need a dizzy blonde distracting me when I’m supposed to be concentrating. It’s the same reason I don’t believe women should be in the army. Men always have protective feelings towards them and that affects the job.’
Dizzy? Stunned into silence, Ally opened her mouth and closed it again. Her voice seemed to have given up the ghost. She tried again. ‘Feel free to stifle your protective feelings. I don’t need them.’
He shrugged. ‘Well, like it or not, you’ve got them. And you’re not going down this mountain on your own.’
She couldn’t believe she was hearing this. ‘I’ve been walking in these mountains on my own since my teens and I’ve never come to any harm.’
He glanced up, his eyes hard. ‘Then you’ve been lucky. If you want to walk, join the Ramblers Association.’
‘The Ramblers…’ She broke off and her small chin lifted angrily. ‘How dare you make judgements when you don’t know anything about me? Dammit, you don’t even know I’m blonde!’
His gaze lifted briefly to the wool hat, which successfully hid all traces of her hair colour and then rested on her face.
‘I do know you’re blonde.’ His eyes smiled into hers for a brief moment. ‘I’m a connoisseur of blondes. Only true blondes have eyes the colour of violets.’
A connoisseur of blondes?
‘And being a blonde makes me dizzy?’ Her whole body was tingling with outrage and something else she chose not to identify. ‘You are the most chauvinistic, misogynistic, prejudiced male—’
‘And I like you, too.’ He smiled complacently and then turned to look at the ravine, totally dismissive of her words, his mind obviously working on the problem ahead. How to evacuate the boys.
‘Look.’ She took a deep breath and deliberately made her tone conciliatory. ‘I may be a woman but I do know these mountains and I can help—believe me.’
Judging from the look he gave her, he didn’t. ‘At a guess you’re five feet nothing and eight stone. The chances of you being able to deploy any muscle to save those guys down there is remote.’
‘Mountain rescue isn’t about muscle.’ Her fists clenched by her sides.
‘No?’ He tilted his head, his eyes hard. ‘Didn’t you say the water level is high at the moment? What if one of them has fallen into a dangerous position and needs to be moved to save his life? Good at lifting bulky teenagers, are you?’
Ally counted to ten. It wasn’t enough so she tried twenty. ‘Well, as you rightly said, someone needs to go for help, so once you give me a brief on their condition I’ll alert mountain rescue.’
With a short laugh he turned his attention back to the rope. ‘You’re not going anywhere. The wind is getting worse, the path is barely visible and you’re going down this mountain on your own over my dead body.’
Ally ground her teeth. The thought was actually quite attractive! ‘I came up it on my own.’
‘Ever heard the saying, Two wrongs don’t make a right?’ He tugged off a glove to get a better grip on what he was doing.
Ally ignored his tone and scanned the items he’d laid on the ground. ‘If you’re really planning to abseil down to them this isn’t the best place.’
He muttered something rude under his breath. ‘You’re trying to give me an abseiling lesson?’
‘Yes.’ She forced herself to hold his stare, refusing to be intimidated by his dry, forbidding tone. Obviously he thought she couldn’t teach him anything, and his arrogance made her grind her teeth in frustration. Except that something told her that, however difficult the abseil, this man would manage it. He was supremely confident, very fit and, judging from the equipment he was pulling out of his rucksack, he obviously knew exactly what he was doing. But he didn’t know the area like she did and it would be stupid to make the abseil more dangerous than it had to be.
‘Do it from further up the gully. There’s a six-metre waterfall directly beneath us and another one directly below that. It’s a double cascade and totally unclimbable unless it’s dry.’
He studied her in silence for a long moment, dark eyes narrowed. ‘You’re telling me you’ve abseiled into this ghyll?’
‘Amazing, isn’t it?’ Her voice was honey-sweet. ‘Even my blonde hair and blue eyes didn’t hold me back.’
He stared at her. ‘You’re saying you can abseil?’
She batted her eyelashes in a parody of a dumb blonde. ‘If I really concentrate hard I can even read and write.’
He grinned. ‘OK, OK. So maybe I jumped to conclusions—’
‘No, you?’ Ally gave him a pert look, picked up the rope and slammed it against his chest. ‘I know these mountains inside out and that ghyll is a death trap in weather like this. You need to be higher up. There are some flat rocks to the right of the falls. It’s safer there and your rope is less likely to get snagged. And for your information, I’m five feet five, not five feet—above average for a woman, actually. I just seem smaller because you’re tall. I weigh nine stone, and I may not have your volume of muscle but I’m extremely fit and more than capable of getting down this mountain in one piece and contacting the rescue services.’
Without waiting for his reply, she picked up his rucksack and trudged up the path, aware that he was close behind her.
‘Do it from here.’ She dumped his rucksack as far away from the edge as possible. ‘There’s a good place to anchor up there.’
He followed her gaze to a spiky rock above the path. ‘Are you an only child?’
Ally blinked, totally thrown by his question. ‘Sorry?’
‘You must be,’ he muttered under his breath, shaking his head and pulling a tape sling out of his rucksack.
‘Why?’ What was he talking about?
‘Because, having had you, no mother would have the nerve to put herself through the worry again,’ he said dryly. ‘Your exploits must have given her heart failure. So you must be an only child. Or the youngest.’
Ally grinned in spite of herself. ‘The youngest, actually. Shall I follow you down?’
‘Have you got a helmet?’
‘No.’
‘Then you’re staying here.’ His eyes gleamed. ‘Although, if you’ve spent your life being reckless, I don’t suppose this is exactly the time to reform you. But as you rightly said, one of us needs to go for help. If you’re sure you can do it without getting lost then that’s the best solution.’
‘Lost? Why should I get lost?’ Ally held onto her temper. Just. ‘Your opinion of women is appalling. Who on earth have you spent your life mixing with?’
‘You want a list?’ He gave her a wolfish grin and she could have bitten her tongue off. What a stupid thing to say. A man like him would have had women clawing each other to get at him since he could walk.
She changed the subject quickly, her voice crisp and businesslike. ‘You do know not to move a casualty unless it’s absolutely necessary?’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘You’d like to add a first-aid lesson to your abseiling lesson?’
She flushed. ‘I wasn’t being rude. It’s just that I’m a doctor and I thought that—’
‘A doctor?’ His eyes narrowed and she rolled her eyes.
‘Don’t tell me—you don’t think women should be doctors.’
‘Did I say that?’
He hadn’t, of course, and, judging from the strange light in his eyes, she had a nasty feeling that he was overplaying the chauvinism just to wind her up. And she was falling for it every time…
‘Just go and fetch the mountain rescue team and stop worrying.’ This time his tone was gentle. ‘I’m a doctor, too, so you can relax.’
Relax? He had to be kidding! She’d never be able to relax in his company in a million years! And he didn’t look like any doctor she’d ever met. He looked more like someone from the SAS.
She watched while he checked the anchor point once more and adjusted his helmet, before looping a rope around his body in classic abseiling style.
‘Ouch.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Not the most comfortable way of doing it.’
‘You can say that again.’ He gave her a rueful smile. ‘Unfortunately, I didn’t come out fully equipped for abseiling.’
‘Will you be OK?’
‘Oh, yes.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘My youth was as misspent as yours.’
‘Well, be careful,’ she mumbled. ‘It’s a difficult abseil.’
‘I’ll manage.’ His eyes locked with hers. ‘Are you sure you can get down the mountain safely? It goes against my better judgement to let you go alone…’
She smiled sweetly. ‘Do us both a favour and leave your better judgement down there in the gully, will you?’
Why on earth did she find him so attractive? All he needed was a loincloth and he’d be the original Stone-Age man!
‘Are you this prejudiced against all women or is it just blondes?’
He gave her a slow, sexy grin that melted her irritation faster than ice cream in a microwave. ‘Don’t misunderstand me, I’ve always been a sucker for blondes. In the right place.’
‘And no doubt that’s chained to the kitchen sink at home.’
‘Barefoot and pregnant, you mean?’ His eyes gleamed wickedly. ‘Oh, no, sweetheart. If you were mine I wouldn’t waste you in the kitchen.’
If she were his—
For a moment Ally stared into those dark eyes, seduced by the blatant interest she saw there, and then she shook herself. She wasn’t his. She wasn’t interested. She had Charlie now and they got on fine together. Life might not be exciting, but it was stable and predictable and that was what she wanted.
‘Well, remind me to leave the bedroom window open so that you don’t get stuck delivering the box of Milk Tray,’ she snapped, determined not to show him how much he flustered her. His slow smile told her that her efforts were in vain. He knew all right.
‘Humour me. Sending a woman down a mountain alone in this weather offends my notions of chivalry.’ His eyes gleamed with appreciation. ‘Even if she has got guts.’
‘Well, chivalry isn’t going to save those boys,’ Ally pointed out briskly, pulling herself together rapidly and clicking her fingers at Hero, her dog, who bounded up eagerly. ‘I’ll wait while you abseil down.’
He gave a short nod and Ally tried not to look impressed as he went over the edge like a pro. There was no doubt that he knew what he was doing. He probably would have had heart failure if he’d seen the way she used to fling herself over the edge as a child. For several long minutes she hovered anxiously and then heard his voice, faint and muffled from deep down in the ghyll.
‘I’ve got them. One of them has fractured his clavicle but he seems fine otherwise. The other is unconscious with a nasty head injury, fractured tibia and maybe a few broken ribs, judging from the way he’s lying. Go as fast as you can but be careful!’
‘Will do,’ Ally yelled, whistling to the dog as she paced down the path as quickly as she felt was safe. Would she bring the team back in time?
* * *
It took two hours for her to return with the mountain rescue team and another hour for them to stretcher the two boys out of the ravine.
Ally’s eyes widened as she recognised the first of the casualties, his arm secured in a broad sling.
‘Andy? What on earth have you been doing?’
Despite his pallor, the boy coloured and looked thoroughly embarrassed.
‘Look, we’re really, really sorry, Dr McGuire…’
Ally made a soothing noise. Now wasn’t the time to tell him off. ‘Why weren’t you roped up?’
Andy closed his eyes and shook his head, wincing with the pain. ‘We didn’t think we needed to. We judged it all wrong.’
‘Well, you can say that again,’ muttered Jack Morgan, leader of the mountain rescue team, who was co-ordinating the rescue. He threw an exasperated look in the direction of the injured youngster. ‘Who’s the other boy?’
Andy shifted on the stretcher. ‘Pete. Pete Williams.’
‘Oh, no! Not Pete!’ Ally sprinted towards the edge of the ghyll to watch the second stretcher being lifted. She’d heard via the radio communications that the team had had trouble stabilising his injuries.
She’d known Pete for years. Ever since he’d first developed diabetes. Since then he’d devoted his short life to ignoring his diabetes and trying to prove he was no different from any other young teenager by getting into one scrape after another. And now he was seriously hurt. Her heart lurched and she mentally crossed her fingers as they lifted him up. Please, let him be OK. Please.
‘He’s in a bad way—we need the air support unit, really, but the weather’s too foul. We’ll have to carry him off.’ Jack helped steady the second stretcher as they lowered it onto the hard ground. He glanced at the man who had masterminded the rescue from the bottom of the ghyll and did a double take.
‘Nicholson?’ Wide-mouthed with shock, he pushed his helmet back, a look of delight spreading across his craggy features. ‘Damn, it is you! Sean, my boy, it’s good to see you!’
Ally frowned and braced herself against a sudden gust of wind. The mist was clearing but the wind was rising steadily. ‘You know him?’
Jack grinned. ‘I do indeed. Not that I was expecting to see him. When you told me that some macho idiot had abseiled into the ghyll, I was expecting to find another crazy tourist.’
‘Oh, thanks, Jack.’ Ally closed her eyes briefly, flushing as she heard her less than complimentary description fed back to her and caught Sean’s amused glance. Oh, well, at least he wasn’t offended.
‘So how are you, Sean?’ Jack was oblivious to her embar-rassment. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Being in the wrong place at the wrong time as usual,’ Sean muttered, wrenching off one of his gloves and checking the boy over again. ‘I didn’t know you were in charge of this lot now, Jack. This lad’s in a bad way. Nasty head injury—in and out of consciousness—fractured ribs and a compound fracture of his tibia—we splinted that down below.’
‘Right.’ Jack frowned as he looked at the boy lying on the stretcher. ‘Anything else?’
‘He’s wet through from the waterfall and heading for hypothermia. His right ankle’s gone—but he was climbing in trainers so that’s hardly surprising. At a guess that’s probably why he slipped. We’ve put him in a polythene survival bag but we need to get a line in and get him off this mountain fast.’
‘Trainers? In this weather?’ Jack shook his head and exchanged a look with Sean. ‘Nothing changes, does it? The mountains are still full of blithering idiots keeping us busy. Why on earth didn’t he stay at home and watch television?’
‘It’s Wednesday. Nothing on.’ Ted Wilson, the equipment officer, grinned wryly at his team-mates, his humour ever present even in an emergency.
Ally was on her knees beside the stretcher. ‘Pete? Pete, can you hear me?’
The boy lay still, his pallor frightening.
‘You know him?’ Sean was frowning down at her and stupidly she felt tears prick her eyes. Poor, poor Pete.
‘Yes.’ She cleared her throat. ‘He’s one of my patients.’
‘Local boys?’ Jack rolled his eyes and shook his head, his look of exasperation tempered by the worry in his eyes. ‘They should know better. It’s bad enough rescuing tourists without having to start on the locals as well.’
Ally wanted to tell them that Pete was just trying to prove himself but she couldn’t break a confidence so instead she mentioned the diabetes and then invested all her energy into doing what she could to save the boy. He groaned and opened his eyes, focusing with difficulty on the people around him.
‘It’s OK, Pete.’ Ally ripped off one glove and stroked his face gently with her slim, warm fingers, before checking his pulse. At least he was conscious. ‘You’ve hurt yourself, sweetheart, but we’ll soon sort you out.’
‘Big softy is our Ally. She ought to be reading him the riot act, not holding his hand,’ Jack murmured to Sean, before picking up the radio and issuing more orders.
‘S-sorry…’ Pete winced and coughed slightly, his face contorting with pain.
Ally frowned. She didn’t like the look of him one little bit. His lips were blue and his breathing was laboured and irregular. She glanced urgently up at Sean who was discussing the best way to carry the boys off the mountain.
‘Problems?’ In an instant he was crouched down next to her, the light-hearted banter of their previous encounter gone. The self-assurance was still there, but for some reason she found that oddly reassuring. She had a very bad feeling about young Pete.
‘I can’t—’ Pete took a jerky breath and then another, and his eyes bulged with panic.
‘It’s OK, Pete. Just try and relax,’ Ally soothed, jerking her head towards two of the team members who were hovering. ‘Let’s sit him up.’
Together they carefully lifted him into a sitting position so that he could breathe more easily and Ally looked at Sean. ‘Pneumothorax?’
Sean nodded, his mouth a grim line. ‘Could be. He’s certainly broken some ribs.’
And one of those ribs could have punctured a lung.
‘What’s happening?’ Jack was frowning and Sean rose to his feet in an easy movement, talking to Jack in low tones while Ally sat with Pete, monitoring his condition and reassuring him while he struggled with his breathing.
Gently she unzipped the top of his jacket and examined his neck, her heart sinking as she recognised the cardinal sign of pneumothorax. Giving Pete a quick smile, she stood up and joined Sean who was discussing the options with Jack.
She touched his arm, feeling the rock-hard muscle under his jacket. ‘He’s got tracheal deviation. We need to get him off this mountain fast.’
Sean shook his head, bracing himself against a sudden gust of wind. ‘No way. It’s compromising his breathing. If we could arrange an air evacuation then maybe we could risk leaving it, but as it is—’ He broke off and gave a shrug. ‘It’s going to be a long and difficult carry off, and he’s not going to make it unless we sort his breathing out.’
Jack frowned. ‘So what do you suggest?’
‘We’ll have to put in a chest drain.’ Sean gestured to the team members carrying the medical equipment.
‘We carry a disposable chest drain,’ Jack informed him quickly. ‘It’s just that we’ve never seen it used before.’
Sean gave a humourless laugh. ‘Well, stick around—this is your lucky day.’
‘What else do you need?’ Jack was the epitome of professionalism, demonstrating with his quiet calm just how he’d managed to mastermind so many successful rescues over the years.
‘Local anaesthetic and scalpel.’
Ally caught Sean’s arm again, her expression urgent. ‘Sean, you can’t! It’s too risky to put in a chest drain here.’
‘You have a better suggestion?’ Sean removed his thick protective gloves and flexed long, strong fingers.
‘Not really.’ Ally bit her lip and glanced anxiously at Pete, who was lying with his eyes closed, a bluish tinge surrounding his lips. ‘But we’re half way up a mountain—he might die…’
Sean moved her to one side and took some anaesthetic from one of the team. ‘And if we do nothing he will almost certainly die. His breathing is becoming more compromised by the minute. Look at him.’
‘But it’s an emergency technique.’
Sean gave her a half-smile and unsheathed the needle. ‘And this is an emergency.’
Ally watched him stride confidently over to Pete and tried to squash her anxiety. Maybe Sean was right. Maybe they had no choice.
She walked back to Pete and knelt beside him, smiling with a confidence she was far from feeling. Would Sean be able to do this?
‘Leave him as much clothing as you can,’ Sean ordered in an undertone. ‘He’s already colder than he should be.’
Carefully Ally removed Pete’s jacket, watching Sean out of the corner of her eye as he snapped on sterile gloves.
‘Jack, have you got strong scissors?’
They were slapped into her hand without question and as quickly as she could she cut through the fabric of Pete’s jumper and shirt, exposing a small area of his ribs.
‘Good thinking.’ Sean was next to her, positioning himself to give the local anaesthetic. ‘He’ll stay warmer that way. Jack, I need high-flow oxygen here.’
‘On its way.’ Jack handed the mask to Sean and hovered, watching over his shoulder. ‘Do you want Entonox?’
Ally shook her head quickly and shifted to give Sean elbow room. ‘No. Never in this sort of chest injury. It can turn a pneumothorax into a tension pneumothorax. What else have you got?’
‘I’ll look.’ Jack vanished and returned in less than a minute with a syringe which he slapped into her rapidly freezing fingers. ‘Any good?’
Ally scanned the label. ‘Fine.’
‘Tell us what you’re doing, will you, Sean?’ Jack stood behind Sean, squinting down at the younger man. ‘We haven’t seen this done before.’
Neither had Ally. At least, not since her casualty days years before, and never halfway up a mountain in a howling gale. She was a GP, for goodness’ sake, not a trauma doctor. And what was Sean’s specialty? He didn’t seem at all nervous but, then, he didn’t seem to be the sort of man who would ever be nervous about anything. His hands were rock steady and his manner totally relaxed, although Ally wasn’t fooled. The man was working fast and with a skill that left her open-mouthed with awe.
‘OK, he’s had pain relief.’ Ally handed the empty syringe to one of the team and flexed her fingers quickly to warm them. ‘I’ll get a line in while the anaesthetic works.’
Sean nodded approval and Ally reached out a hand for a venflon. Her fingers were stiff with cold and she seriously doubted she’d find a vein with Pete this cold. Still, maybe… She frowned down at his arm.
‘Squeeze there for me, Jack.’
Jack’s hands closed like a vice and she flicked the skin and mentally crossed her fingers. The cannula slid into the vein and she released her breath. Thank goodness.
Sean gave her a brief smile. ‘Well done. Now get your gloves back on before your hands freeze. OK, I’ve given local anaesthetic and I’ve prepared a sterile field. God, it’s cold! I’m going to make a small incision here. You’re doing well, Pete—this will help you breathe.’
Ally watched as he used the scalpel with quick precision and then inserted his gloved finger into the incision.
Jack hunkered down next to her, his voice soft. ‘What’s he doing that for?’
‘To check that part of the lung isn’t stuck to the chest wall,’ Ally replied in an undertone, squeezing Pete’s hand gently.
‘That’s fine,’ Sean said quietly, and pushed the tube with just the required amount of force. ‘I’m in. That should do it.’
Ally released the clamp.
‘Cough for us, Pete,’ Ally instructed gently, watching as air bubbled up through the fluid in the bottom of the drain.
‘Bingo,’ Sean muttered softly, rising to his feet in an easy movement and gesturing to Jack. ‘That drain must be kept below the level of the lungs. If it goes any higher then the fluid drains back into his lungs and we’re in trouble.’
Jack gave a brief nod, his expression grim. ‘No problem. One of the lads can carry the drip and the other can carry the drain. Good work, Sean.’
Ally finished taping the drain securely and listened to Pete’s chest, smiling with satisfaction at what she heard. Jack was right—Sean had done good work. And judging from his quiet confidence, he’d done the procedure many times before, but surely not in circumstances as difficult as these?
He caught her glance and raised an eyebrow. ‘What?’
Her eyes teased him with a mixture of humour and admiration. ‘I don’t know what sort of doctor you are but I’d hazard a guess that you’re not an obstetrician.’
‘You don’t think I can deliver a baby?’
Ally had to admit that the man would probably succeed at anything he set his hand to. ‘Well, that was pretty impressive, Dr Nicholson.’
‘For a macho idiot, you mean?’ His teasing drawl made her blush.
‘I admit that my first impression of you was wrong—but you called me a dizzy blonde.’
‘So I did.’ His smile faded and his gaze was intent. ‘And I was wrong about that, too, wasn’t I? So maybe we’re quits.’
Ally shifted under his watchful scrutiny, suddenly aware of every female part of herself. She’d never met a man who made her feel more like a woman than Sean did. To cover her awkwardness she concentrated on making Pete comfortable, aware that Sean was still watching her while the mountain rescue team made the final preparations for their descent.
‘You made good time down that mountain. The mist was awful—I thought you might get lost.’
Jack glanced curiously from one to the other and gave a short laugh. ‘Lost? Our Ally? You have to be kidding! She used to be our best team member until—’
‘We’re ready when you are, Jack,’ Ally interrupted quickly, reluctant to have the details of her private life broadcast to this stranger.
Sean gave her a sharp look. ‘You were in the mountain rescue team?’
Ally’s eyes challenged him. ‘They do take blondes, you know.’
Sean’s eyes gleamed with appreciation but he carried on dealing with the patient, skilfully preparing him for the arduous trip down the mountain.
Jack snorted. ‘Ally was in the team for more than a while. She knows these fells like you know the inside of a beer can. She wouldn’t get lost if you put her head in a bag.’
‘Now, there’s an idea for keeping her quiet,’ Sean said dryly, tugging on his gloves and yanking his Balaclava back down over his face. ‘OK, folks, let’s get these guys off this mountain.’
