Doctor's Mile-High Fling. Tina Beckett

her. “What can I do?”

      “I want to get an IV into him, but we can do that once we get to the plane. Right now, I need to stabilize his leg. Can you find me some heavy sticks or a couple pieces of lumber? Not too long, maybe—”

      She held her hands apart, approximating the size she wanted.

      “I’m on it.”

      He hadn’t balked at the task, neither had he batted an eyelash at the sight of the man’s open wound. Evel Knievel or not, he was evidently good at his job.

      While he was gone, she grabbed a small bottle of saline and sponged away the blood so she could see the area better. She then wet several pieces of sterile gauze and laid them over the wound, one on top of the other, to keep the bone moist and avoid further contamination. Those layers were topped with a few dry ones, in case the bleeding continued. Blake was back by the time she was done, holding a couple of clean-looking one-by-fours.

      “These okay?”

      “Perfect.” She nodded toward her bag. “I’ve got some hand sanitizer and some surgical gloves in there. I’ll need you to help me splint him, if you’re up to it.”

      As soon as she said it, she glanced up to make sure he was in agreement, but he’d already handed off the wood to someone else and was squirting the sanitizer onto his hands.

      “Does anyone have a truck or a van we can use to transport him to the airport? Something with a large covered area?”

      Neither of the local clinics were equipped to do surgery like this, and Anchorage had a great orthopedic surgeon who was willing to come in at a moment’s notice. She’d radio it in once they were in the air.

      “I do.” The man who’d been kneeling next to the patient spoke up. “It’s in the parking lot.”

      She noticed his hesitation and wondered if he was worried about liability issues. “I’ll take responsibility,” she said.

      “It’s not that. He’s going to be okay, isn’t he? He’s…he’s my…”

      When the man’s voice cracked, Mark spoke up. “They’re brothers. Jed—your patient—lost his wife to cancer a few months ago. He’s got two young kids at home.”

      Oh, boy.

      She turned to the man who couldn’t have been older than his early twenties. No need for him to see what she was about to do. “We’re going to take good care of him, I promise. Do you think you could bring your truck as close as you can? Once we splint his leg, we’ll be ready to go.”