Bushfire Bride. Marion Lennox

it open.’

      The boy flicked the bag open and Rachel’s eyes widened. Forceps. There were several and they were sitting on the top as if prepared for just this emergency. She lifted a hand from the wound and grabbed the first pair.

      ‘We’re not going to stop this without clamping,’ she muttered. ‘The femoral artery has to have been torn to explain this.’

      He accepted her medical knowledge without a blink. ‘I agree. Clive, take a shirt and clear as much blood as you can while we work. Let’s go.’ He grabbed forceps himself and then looked across at her. ‘Ready?’

      She took a deep breath. This was a huge risk. They needed the pad to stop the spurting, but the only way to stop the bleeding altogether was to remove the pad and locate the source. They had only seconds to do it or the girl would die beneath their hands.

      ‘OK.’ She took two deep breaths. ‘Now.’

      They lifted the pad away from the wound. The blood spurted out and they were working blind, searching in the mess that was the girl’s leg.

      Where in this mess was the artery? Dear God, they had to stop it.

      ‘Take the swab right away, Clive. Just for the moment,’ Hugo said. ‘Be ready to replace it.’

      And in the tiny millisecond before the wound refilled with blood …’There!’ Rachel pushed in and grasped, and the forceps linked to the torn artery. She clicked them shut—and the pumping died.

      Not enough.

      There were more. As well as the femoral artery, two or three minor vessels had been torn. They could kill all by themselves.

      Hugo’s forceps clamped shut on another blood vessel and the flow abated still further. Another pair of forceps was in Rachel’s hands and Hugo had another.

      She was working like lightning. Without the pads there was no pressure—the blood simply pumped out.

      ‘Gotcha.’ Another one was under Hugo’s forceps. He clamped.

      And another.

      And that was it.

      The blood was still oozing, but slowly now. The pumping had stopped. It’d be flowing from the ripped veins but they’d done what they had to do. For now.

      ‘We need to continue with pressure,’ she said, and sat back as Hugo set to work with another shirt, forming another pad. They’d been lucky. Trying to find the blood vessels in these conditions …

      Yeah, they’d been lucky—but this man was good!

      Hugo was tying the pad firmly around the leg. He gave her a curious glance. There was still urgency but they were working with minutes now rather than seconds. They’d blocked off the blood supply. Now they needed to prevent shock setting in. They needed to replace fluids and they needed to save a leg that no longer had a blood supply.

      ‘Pete, ring the ambulance,’ Hugo snapped into the crowd. ‘Tell them I want plasma and saline on board and if they’re not here in thirty seconds I’ll have their hides. Dave, can you and a couple of the men find those damned dogs and deal with them before we have another disaster? Toby … Where’s Toby?’ He looked out into the crowd, searching for his little boy. ‘Myra, can you take him?’

      ‘The first two are already being looked after,’ someone said. ‘The vet’s got the cocker and a couple of guys have gone after the pit bull. The ambulance is on its way.’

      Which left Toby.

      A middle-aged woman stepped from the crowd of horrified onlookers and took Toby’s hand. The child had been standing white-faced and shocked as Hugo and Rachel had worked. ‘Come on, love,’ she told him. ‘Come with me while Daddy looks after Kim.’

      Kim …

      Rachel looked up to the girl’s deathly white face. Kim’s eyes were open but it wasn’t clear whether she was conscious or not.

      ‘You’ll be OK, Kim,’ she told her, taking the opportunity to take the girl’s hand in hers. What she’d most need now would be reassurance. Not panic. ‘We needed to hurt you a bit to stop the bleeding but we’re both doctors. We know what we’re doing. The bleeding’s stopped now.’

      The girl’s eyes widened. She was conscious.

      ‘Mum … Knickers …’

      ‘Someone find the Sandersons,’ Hugo ordered. ‘It’s OK, Kim. We’ll find your mum and dad now, and Knickers is with the vet. You know Rob will look after Knickers just as I’ll look after you.’

      The flaring panic in the girl’s eyes subsided. They were winning. Kind of. For now.

      But … was one of the reasons the bleeding had eased because the blood pressure itself had dropped?

      ‘She hasn’t lost too much,’ Hugo muttered, and Rachel realised he was thinking the same as she was.

      Too much blood …

      There was certainly a lot. Rachel herself was covered with a spray of gore. She was wearing only a bra above the waist and she looked like something out of a vampire movie. Paramedics were supposed to wear protective clothing, she thought ruefully. If Kim had any sort of blood-borne disease, then she and Hugo were now also infected.

      They couldn’t care. Not now.

      Hugo was swabbing the girl’s arm and Rachel moved to get a syringe. By the time Hugo had the line ready she was prepared.

      ‘Five milligrams morphine?’

      ‘Yeah, and then saline. We need plasma. Hell, where’s the ambulance?’

      It was here. There was a shout and then someone was pushing through the crowd. A couple of ambulance officers.

      Rachel almost wept with relief. They’d have plasma, saline—everything Hugo needed.

      They’d take over. This wasn’t her place. She could go back to being a horrified onlooker.

      But …

      ‘Your husband’s a cardiologist?’ She’d gone back to applying pressure as Hugo inserted an IV line.

      Her husband? She stared blankly and then realised who he was talking about. Michael, her husband. What a thought! But now wasn’t the time for fixing misconceptions. ‘Yes.’

      ‘Thank God for that.’

      ‘Sorry?’

      ‘I’m the only doctor in town,’ he told her. ‘Can you ask someone to find him? He’ll be able to help.’

      ‘He was catching the helicopter back to Sydney,’ Rachel said blankly.

      ‘There’s a helicopter’s taking off now,’ a voice said helpfully. ‘You can hear it.’

      He’d left? Michael had left?

      Maybe he hadn’t even noticed what had happened. Rachel had stalked out and it’d be just like Michael to have left as well. He’d have heard the dogfight but he wouldn’t have turned to investigate. She knew him well enough after this weekend to know he wouldn’t deviate from his chosen plan for anyone.

      ‘He’s taken the helicopter?’ Hugo searched the crowd to find the farmer who’d been the first to offer his shirt. ‘OK, it’ll have to come back. Matt, get onto the radio. Get the chopper returned here. Tell the pilot we need priority. Kim needs emergency surgery if we’re to save this leg. She needs vascular surgeons. We need to evacuate her—now!’

      ‘Will do,’ Matt muttered, and ran.

      There was a crowd of about twenty onlookers around them now, but it wasn’t the sort of crowd you saw in city accidents, Rachel thought. There was horror on everyone’s faces. They all knew Kim. They were all desperate to help.

      Rachel was the only