The paramedic held an IV bag high in one hand. “White male, early thirties. He took a horn to the face. He has severe lacerations to the left cheek and eye. Looks bad for his eye, Doc. He was trampled, too. Labored breathing, concave left lower chest, no breath sounds on that side.”
“Fractured ribs, probably a punctured lung. Stupidest sport ever invented.” Dr. Cain snatched his stethoscope from around his neck, pulled back the patient’s shirt and listened.
Looping his stethoscope over his neck again, he said tersely, “Jane, get me a chest-tube tray. Crank up his oxygen to 15 liters. Let me hear some vital signs, people.”
Robyn was already gathering the information he wanted. She used the blood-pressure cuff the ambulance crew had wrapped around his arm. She took a reading and said, “BP is ninety over fifty. Pulse ninety, weak and thready, respiration’s thirty-eight and labored.”
Dr. Cain peeled back the dressings on the man’s face and frowned. “You’re right. I doubt we can save his eye. Keep a moist sterile dressing on this. We’ll let the surgeons in Kansas City sort it out.”
Jane wheeled a metal stand up beside them and pulled the wrappings off a sterile pack. “Here’s the chest-tube tray.”
“We need X-rays of his skull, neck, chest and abdomen.” Dr. Cain snapped out orders. “Get lab and X-ray in here now! I want a blood gas, a complete blood count and I want him typed and cross matched for a blood transfusion. Do we have a name?”
The two paramedics didn’t answer. Robyn raised the phone to her ear and punched in the number for X-ray, but she felt the men’s gazes on her. She turned toward them.
“It’s Neal Bryant,” one of them said.
The room grew dark at the edges of Robyn’s vision and seemed to tilt. The phone fell from her nerveless fingers and clattered to the floor. She groped behind her for the wall.
Dear God, it can’t be! She stared at the still, blood-soaked figure in stunned disbelief.
“Robyn? Robyn, who is he to you?” Dr. Cain’s voice seemed to come from a long way away.
“Nobody,” she whispered, wishing it were true.
“They were engaged once,” Jane said, then picked up the phone and spoke quickly. “Portable X-ray in E.R., stat.”
For a long, painful moment, Robyn’s heart seemed to freeze. Then it began to pound wildly inside her chest. She couldn’t get enough air. She drew in one deep breath, then another, and slowly her vision began to clear. “It was a long time ago.”
“Well, he’s going to be a dead nobody if we don’t get this chest tube in. Help or get out of the way.” Dr. Cain’s voice was harsh as he began to swab Neal’s chest with antiseptic.
“What?” She looked at him in confusion.
“You heard me. Help, or get out of here. I need a nurse, not a jilted sweetheart. Someone start another IV line, and get this shirt out of my way.”
“Of course, I’m sorry.” Robyn picked up a pair of scissors. Her hands trembled, but she managed to cut away the bloody fabric from Neal’s chest.
Neal flinched and moaned when the chest tube went in, and she grabbed the hand he raised. “Neal, can you hear me? You’re in the hospital. You’re going to be okay.”
God she hoped that was true. His hand tightened on hers, and he tried to speak. She bent close to hear his voice, which was muffled by the oxygen mask. “Robyn?”
“Yes, Neal, it’s me. You’re going to be okay.”
His grip tightened. “I’m sorry,” he rasped. “Want you...to know...” His voice trailed away, and his hand fell limp.
“How soon on that Air-Life flight?” Dr. Cain’s question spurred her back into action. She wrapped a tourniquet around Neal’s muscular forearm and began to prep for another IV line.
“Twenty minutes,” Jane said.
“Type and cross for two units. We’ve got a lot of blood coming out of this chest tube. Get a unit of O neg. in as fast as you can. Do you have that IV yet?”
“Yes.” Robyn slid the needle into place and taped it.
“Start Ringer’s lactate wide-open, and Robyn?”
“Yes?”
“Good job.”
She nodded. “I’d better notify his family.”
“Let Jane do it. I need you.” He held out a gloved hand and said, “Suture.”
Somehow Robyn managed to keep working, but she couldn’t stop glancing at the clock. Time seemed to move in slow motion. Where was the transport crew? How much longer before they arrived? She listened to each rattling breath Neal took and prayed he would keep breathing. The nurse in her kept functioning, snipping sutures, checking vital signs, starting blood, while another part of her watched the whole scene with a sense of disbelief.
It was the nightmare scene she had always feared when they were together.
She wasn’t surprised Neal had been seriously injured. He was a world-class bull rider. He risked injury, even death, a hundred times each year. That was part of the reason she’d walked away from him five years ago. A small part.
What did surprise her was how much she still cared.
At last the outside doors slid open and the transport crew rushed in. Dressed in blue-and-white jumpsuits and carrying large red-and-white cases, they set up on the scene with practiced ease. It was a relief to step out of the way and let them take over. Within minutes, Neal had been assessed and was loaded onto their stretcher. He was quickly wheeled out the door, across the parking lot and up to the waiting helicopter.
Neal’s mother’s white Buick Regal tore into the lot as he was being lifted aboard. Ellie Bryant jumped out of her car and raced toward the chopper. The crew let her in beside him as Dr. Cain and Robyn hurried toward her. Leaning in the chopper, Ellie spoke to her son and kissed him before the crew urged her aside.
Robyn took Ellie by the shoulders and pulled her away. Covering their faces with their arms, the two women huddled together as the chopper rose into the air and clung to each other until the sound of it faded away.
Ellie used both hands to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “I’ve always been afraid of this. At least he was close to home and not a thousand miles away.”
Turning to Robyn, she asked, “Will he live?”
“He’s getting the best care possible, but it is bad.”
Dr. Cain came up and rested a hand on Ellie’s shoulder as he spoke. “Do you have someone who can drive you to Kansas City tonight? I think you should go as quickly as possible.”
“My oldest son and his wife are in Dallas. I’m fine to go by myself.”
“I’ll go with you,” Robyn surprised herself by offering.
“Are you sure?” Ellie asked.
“Yes, I’m sure. You shouldn’t drive all that way alone. Let me call Mom and make some arrangements for Chance.”
Robyn rushed back inside to make the call. She couldn’t rest until she knew that Neal would live. If he didn’t, she’d never have the chance to tell him he had a son.
CHAPTER TWO
ROBYN AND ELLIE sat