“I’ll get it for you.” She saved her work on the computer before heading into the kitchen. After prying up the stuck lid of the pitcher, she poured Ben’s glass of juice and then returned to her office.
“Mom, can I go outside to swing on the swing set?” Ben asked a few minutes later.
She stifled a sigh. Ben was only six, and a short attention span came along with the territory. Besides, she could see the swing set in the front yard from her office window. She smiled at him. “Sure, but make sure you wear a jacket.” Cedar Bluff was located close to the shores of Lake Michigan, and often the breeze off the lake was cooler than inland temperatures, even now in late summer. Knowing her son, he’d wear the jacket, but shed it the first chance he got.
She heard his footsteps go to the coat closet, and then heard the door slam behind him on his way outside. She breathed a little sigh of relief. Okay, now that Ben was outside maybe she could get this protocol started. When she heard the door slam again, a few minutes later, she braced herself.
“Mom, can I go over to Joey’s house to play?”
She hesitated. “Is Joey’s mom there to watch you?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll ask.” Ben turned as if to rush out.
“Wait a minute, I’ll come with you.”
There was no sense in sitting there while Ben ran out and then back in again. She followed Ben outside. Joey Clairmont’s house was the next house over to the right. She could see Joey riding his bike in the driveway, and also noted that Joey’s older sister, Jenny, was sitting outside on the front porch, playing Barbies with another little girl.
Then she saw Missy Clairmont sitting outside in a lawn chair, chatting with someone on her cell phone. They’d met when Kylie had moved in last month, although she hadn’t seen much of her chatty neighbor since starting her new job two weeks ago. Kylie waved at Missy, who acknowledged her with a smile and a wave back.
Satisfied that Missy was there to supervise the kids, she granted her permission. “Sure, Ben. Go ahead. You can play with Joey.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Ben ran over to Joey. The boy got off his bike and the two of them began talking, their heads close together, no doubt comparing notes on their latest trading cards.
She headed back to her office, feeling a little guilty over her plans to work. Maybe she should just scrap the whole idea of starting on the hypothermia protocol and spend the day with Ben instead?
Sighing, she rested her chin on her hand. Okay, the hypothermia protocol needed to be done—not to mention revamping the entire paramedic training program. She was being paid extra to have this level of responsibility, and that meant she needed to live up to her bosses’ expectations. She’d give herself a couple hours to work on it this morning, and then make it up to Ben later. Maybe she could take Ben and Joey to the movies? There was a Disney film that had come out a week or so ago that Ben would love to see. Maybe they’d even splurge and ruin their dinner with a huge bucket of popcorn.
Feeling better, Kylie turned her attention back to the hypothermia protocol. She found several examples, and began printing them out to see what the similarities and differences were. She’d set up some meetings with the other ED physicians, too, and had received some good feedback.
Not one of them had even looked at her twice on a personal level—much less tried to hit on her the way Seth had.
Dr. Taylor. Get it through your head. He’s Dr. Taylor!
She buried her persistent thoughts of Dr. Taylor and concentrated on her work. There were really only very minor differences in the two hypothermia protocols she’d gotten from other sources. Maybe this wouldn’t take long to create at all.
A shrill scream split the air.
Ben? She sucked in a breath and sprang to her feet, running toward the living room. Through the picture window she saw a red bike crumpled beneath the back bumper of a car in the street outside Joey’s house.
Dear God. A red bike. Ben’s bike!
She tore outside, running straight to the scene of the accident. Her heart pounded in her chest and her vision went cloudy when she saw Ben’s body sprawled on the asphalt, half under the car.
“Owwwww,” he wailed.
“I’m sorry, lady, I didn’t see him,” the male driver of the car said, looking pale. “I called 911. They’re sending an ambulance.”
“Thanks. Shh, Ben. It’s all right, I’m here.” Kylie blinked, fighting to keep from losing control—especially when she saw the deep gash over Ben’s left eye. Blood was everywhere, and she had to remind herself that head wounds always bled like crazy. Ben was also holding his left arm protectively across his chest. “I need some towels to put pressure on his head wound,” she said to the group of onlookers who’d gathered around. She barely noticed when someone dashed off to the house, her attention focused on her son. “Don’t move, honey. I need a minute to examine you.”
She reached under the car, feeling his extremities. “Does your neck hurt? Or your back?” she asked.
“N-no. Just my—head and—my arm,” Ben said between hiccupping sobs.
He was talking, and making sense, which went a long way to easing her panic. After ruling out a neck or back injury, she eased Ben from beneath the car, wincing at the copious amount of blood coating his face and soaking his shirt.
Missy Clairmont, Joey’s mother, returned with an armload of towels, babbling about how she was so sorry, she hadn’t realized the boys had taken their bikes out into the road, and she’d only run inside for a minute to use the bathroom. Kylie didn’t respond except to nod at her, using one towel to hold pressure over Ben’s eye and the other to mop up the worst of the blood.
Her hands were shaking.
In the distance she heard sirens, and knew help was on the way. She crushed Ben close, knowing she needed to check his pupils for signs of concussion but also needed to stem the bleeding from the cut over his eye, so he didn’t lose too much blood. Rattled, she couldn’t decide which threat was worse.
When the paramedics arrived, she was relieved they took control of the medical situation, leaving her to simply hold Ben in a comforting embrace. In mere minutes they had Ben bundled up and ready for transport.
No one argued when she climbed into the ambulance with him.
“His pupils are reactive, but the left one is larger than the right,” Randal, one of the older paramedics, said. “And I think he has a radial fracture in his left arm.”
A concussion and a fracture didn’t seem too bad, but Kylie knew that it was possible Ben’s head injury could be worse than it looked. The only way to measure if he was bleeding into his brain was through a CT scan.
She clung to Ben’s hand as they wound through the streets toward Cedar Bluff Hospital. She wondered if Seth was the physician on duty today.
She didn’t know very many of the Cedar Bluff ED physicians yet, but she did know Seth. And she didn’t want a stranger caring for her son.
Seth glanced at his pager to get the details of the most recent trauma call. Six-year-old boy hit by a car. VSS. ETA two minutes.
“Victoria, put this kid in the trauma room, okay?” he called to the nurse in charge.
She raised a brow. “His vitals are stable.”
“I don’t care. I want him in the trauma room.” Seth would rather overreact than underestimate how sick a patient might be. Any child hit by a car had the potential to go bad in a hurry.
Seconds later Leila Ross, one of the general surgeons who’d cross-trained as a trauma surgeon, walked in. “Hear you have a peds patient on the way?”
“We