P.S. You're a Daddy!. Dianne Drake

trying to sound optimistic in order to bolster the truck driver’s spirits.

      “Don’t think it’s going to be easy, Doc. But I’m willing to give it a try. Need to be home later … wife’s having a few friends over for dinner. It’s my granddaughter’s fifth birthday. Don’t want to miss that.”

      “Just one granddaughter?” Beau asked, looking through the windshield at Deanna, still admiring what he saw. Striking woman. Tall. Hair the color of honey. Very subdued, though. Here, in the middle of this accident, showing so much command, she had such a sense of calmness about her. It baffled him because, as experienced as he was as a surgeon, he was still feeling the adrenalin rush.

      “Just the one.” he said. “Got a grandson, though, who just turned two. You a family man, Doc? You got kids?”

      “Nope. Had a wife for a while. It didn’t work out. Glad now we didn’t get around to having children because she was …” he did a quick visual assessment of Mack as he climbed past him then lowered himself to a position almost underneath him “… selfish. And that’s being kind.” Pulling a flashlight from his pocket, he looked at the man’s leg for a second time. Definitely a fractured tibia. Not mangled but also not good.

      “Married her for her looks, got what I deserved because when you got past the looks all that was there was pure, unadulterated selfishness.” For all intents and purposes.

      “That bad, eh, Doc?”

      “Bad doesn’t even begin to describe it,” Beau said, shifting position but trying to keep well away from his patient. Outside, he could hear the noise level increasing, multiple voices shouting. “Next time …” He drew in a shuddering breath. “No next time. At least, not for a long, long time.”

      Mack chuckled then sucked in a sharp breath. “I got lucky the first time out,” he said, his voice noticeably weaker than it had been even a minute before. “Married the perfect woman, had thirty-five good years so far. Hoping I’ll have a few …” Another gasp for air. “A few more.”

      I hope so too, Beau said to himself as a blanket dropped down from the door opening.

      “Cover you two up,” the burly voice shouted. “Windshield’s coming out next.”

      Seconds after that the windshield had gone, and Beau was amazed by the speed with which everything was happening. He’d never worked a rescue from this end of it, and he wondered how many times over the years his grandfather had been called on to do something like this. It was a side of Brax he’d never considered, and he felt embarrassed that he hadn’t. “Need a splint in here,” he called. “And MAST trousers.”

      “What can I do from out here?” Deanna yelled to him from just beyond the front of the truck. “I’ve got rescuers setting up to go over the side right now to help the people in the car, and I’m not needed there until they bring them up. So what can I do for you in the meantime?”

      “Oxygen, IV set-up … fast fluids.”

      “Already got them set up.”

      “Possible field amp.” No way he was going to say “amputation” where the patient could hear, but if internal injuries didn’t turn into an issue, the mangled leg might. “You OK with that?” he asked.

      “Sure, I’m OK. I’ll get everything together,” she said, turning and running back to the rescue truck.

      “She’s a pretty one, too, Doc,” Mack said, his voice almost gone now. “Better watch out.”

      Mack was right. Deanna was already fascinating him way more than she should. “Look, Mack, this is going to be a little tricky because of the way you’re wedged in. Your right leg is pretty bad, and you might have a fractured pelvis. Not sure what we’re going to do about those yet because I think you could also have some internal bleeding going on because of the way the steering-wheel is shoved into your belly.”

      He glanced up as one of the medics fresh to the scene dangled into the door opening, endeavoring to take the driver’s blood pressure. “Since you’re pressed so tight against the wheel, it’s serving as a pressure bandage of sorts, keeping the blood circulating to your vital organs. But once the wheel is removed, there’s a good chance you’re going to experience a major internal hemorrhage.” A mild understatement as once he was unwedged, the fight would be on to save him.

      “So there’s going to be some surgery in your future as soon as we can get you to the hospital. Right now, because you’re in shock, you’re not feeling so much pain. But in another minute, when we make the big move to get you out of here … I’m not going to lie to you. It’s going to hurt like hell. But that pretty nurse out there’s got an IV with your name on it, and she’s ready to get some painkillers into you. Are you with me so far?”

      “Doesn’t sound like a picnic, Doc. But I’m with you.”

      “Good, because it’s going to happen pretty fast now.” He watched Deanna direct the stretcher to just outside the truck then recheck the supplies laid out for this part of the rescue. Sill cool as the proverbial cucumber, she was the only one involved here who didn’t seem frantic.

      “Can I ask you one favor, Doc?”

      “Sure. What is it?”

      “Somewhere in the back I’ve got a birthday present for my granddaughter. However this turns out, would you see that she gets it?”

      A lump formed in Beau’s throat. “How about I save it for you to give to her?” he said. “And I’ll tell her to save you some birthday cake.”

      “Appreciate it, Doc. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to call my wife …”

      “You talk while I splint your leg and get you ready to move.” He didn’t want to hear the conversation, it would be too personal.

      So he bit his lower lip hard to create a distraction for himself and quickly splinted Mack’s lower leg, trying to block out the way Mack was trying to be supportive to his wife even though he was the one in critical condition. Trying to block out thoughts of Nancy, who didn’t have it in her to think of anyone but herself in a critical situation.

      Pulling the last elastic bandage into place around Mack’s splint, Beau started to withdraw himself from the cab to allow the standby firefighters and medics their turn with him. “OK, let’s get you out of here and on the next helicopter to the hospital. You with me?”

      Mack’s cellphone dropped to the floor, which was actually the passenger-side door, and as Beau twisted to grab it for him, he saw the wrapped birthday present and grabbed it as well. Something soft, a stuffed animal, he guessed.

      “Deanna,” he yelled, then tossed it out for her to catch. “Mack, cross your arms over your chest and let the medics do all the work. And, please, don’t fight against them.” After one last check to make sure Mack was as stable as possible, Beau unwedged himself all the way and practically poured out of the front of the truck, bouncing off the hood then hitting the ground with a thump, landing rather ungraciously on his bum right at Deanna’s feet.

      “You OK?” she asked, extending a hand to him to help him up.

      “No, I’m not,” he snapped, taking hold of her hand—such soft skin—and righting himself. “Sorry. I’m OK, but my patient …” He shrugged then looked back at the truck as the firefighters cut away large chunks of the truck to get at its driver.

      “Look, Beau, I don’t do this too often … patient care. Especially trauma and field rescue. But I understand the basics, we’re as ready for him as we can be. So just tell me what I need to be doing.”

      He nodded. “What about the car that went over?”

      “Both people inside are injured, one conscious, one not. Until the rescuers get into the car, we won’t know any more.”

      “OK, then.” He looked at the MAST trousers, which Deanna had laid out on the ground and opened