Her Lucky Cowboy (2 page)

“We need to move,” she coaxed the paramedics, who worked to stabilize Dane’s head in a collar. “I need a splint, some bandages, gauze. Come on. Move.”

She’d spent six months in the ER. Controlled chaos. With trauma victims, every second mattered.

“What’re his vitals?”

“Breathing is shallow, but steady. Clear airway. BP one twenty over seventy-seven. Heart rate eighty-nine.”

“Dr. Bell, what the hell are you doing here?”

She glanced up and caught Gabe and Blake Bowden standing over the paramedics. They’d flown in from Montana to see their brother ride. At one time or another they’d both brought in a woman to the Crystal Creek Clinic for her to treat. They didn’t know her. Not really. But she knew all about them. She’d grown up right next door, but they’d never known it.

She plunged ahead, not taking the time to answer. “Does Dane have any allergies to medication?”

“None,” Gabe said.

“Any surgeries or illnesses in his past?”

“He had his tonsils out when he was a kid. A torn ligament and muscle in his shoulder repaired two years ago. Laparoscopic surgery on his knee three years back,” Gabe added.

“Is he taking any medications?”

“Not that I know of. Blake?”

“Maybe some ibuprofen. It’s been a tough couple days of competition. He’s sore, but in good health. He probably went out drinking last night, though he doesn’t usually have more than two beers when he’s competing.”

“Any drug use?”

“No,” Gabe and Blake said in unison.

“You’re sure. A little pot, maybe some coke when he’s out partying?”

“No,” Gabe growled, protective of his little brother.

“When was his last tetanus shot?”

“Who knows? It might be on file at the clinic,” Blake said.

She irrigated and cleaned the wound with sterile saline–soaked gauze pads, then she packed and wrapped the wound. She and the paramedic put Dane’s leg in a splint and secured it so they could move him. Done, Bell grabbed Dane’s good leg. One of the paramedics took his head, the other his shoulders, and they rolled Dane to his side, sliding the backboard under him so one of the guys could strap him down.

“Light.” She took the penlight from the paramedic and checked Dane’s pupils. All good. She unstrapped his chest protector and pulled it free. She ran her hands over his ribs and checked for any broken bones. Nothing. She rubbed the heel of her hand over Dane’s chest, checking for a cognitive response.

Please, you’ve got to be okay.
Usually she didn’t know the patients she worked on. This man held a special place in her mind and heart. Even if he didn’t know it.

“Dane. Hey, Dane. Can you open your eyes and look at me?”

He let out a halfhearted moan and tried to open his eyes. Relief washed over her from her head down, loosening her tense muscles.

“Good, Dane. We’re taking you to the hospital now. You’re going to be fine.”

She helped the paramedics get Dane on the stretcher. She took his feet, and they took each side near his head, walking off across the arena to the waiting ambulance. For the first time, she became aware of the crowd of people around them and in the stands. Sound, muted, returned to the world around her as a hush remained over the crowd, waiting to see if Dane would give them a sign he was okay. Unfortunately, with the beating he’d taken, it wasn’t likely he’d wake up anytime soon. He was stable for now. She’d done what she could for his leg. They needed to get him into surgery.

“Dr. Bell, how is he? Is he going to be okay?” Gabe asked from beside her, his words tentative and filled with concern and a touch of fear.

“He’s got a torn artery and a compound fracture. He needs surgery. They’ll have an orthopedic and vascular surgeon ready when we get to the hospital.”

“You’re a surgeon. What’s your assessment?”

She hated to even say the words. “He might lose the leg, but a good surgeon can stabilize the bones, repair the surrounding muscle and tissue damage, and give him a fighting chance to save the leg.” She tried to stay positive, even though his chances weren’t that good unless he got the best care possible. Out of her control. She wished she could do more. “He’s young and in remarkably good shape. He’s critical, but stable. His chances are good.”

They loaded Dane into the back of the bus. Bell jumped in, despite the looks she got from the paramedics.

“You call it in. I’ll keep him stable.”

The paramedic got on the radio with the hospital to relay Dane’s vitals and other information so the trauma team would be ready when they arrived.

Before they closed the back door, she looked at Gabe. “Get to the hospital. You’ll want to be included in all the decisions. Once we get there, his care is out of my hands. You need to talk to the surgeon before he does anything. Ask for specifics.”

The doors closed, cutting her off from saying anything more. Bell didn’t want to say it, but Dane’s catastrophic injury might be too far gone to save the leg. Dane needed an advocate. Someone to push the doctors to do everything to save the leg—as long as Dane remained stable.

Bell took Dane’s hand and squeezed. “You’re in for one hell of a recovery no matter what happens. You need to fight.”

Dane’s eyes fluttered open. He whispered something behind the oxygen mask. She pulled it away.

His deep brown eyes held her gaze. “My leg hurts. You have to get my dad.”

He’d said those words to her years ago, down by the river. Another time. Another state. Another girl. She wasn’t that castaway anymore.

“Dane, you’re going to be okay. Do you know what day it is?”

“Friday? No, Saturday? Where’s my dad? Get one of my brothers.”

“Gabe and Blake are on their way to the hospital. They’re right behind us.”

“Are you an angel? You disappeared?”

That made her smile. She placed the oxygen mask back over his nose and mouth. His eyes closed again, but he held tight to her hand. A nice strong grip that gave her hope he’d be okay.

She traced her finger over the feather tattoo. An angel. Ask anyone in her family, and they’d probably tell you she’d been sent by the devil. Her overzealous religious grandmother told her as much practically every day of her life.

The ambulance pulled into the ER entrance. The crew pulled Dane from the bus and rolled him inside the ER. The trauma team waited for his arrival, including the orthopedic surgeon.

“Dr. Bell, I’m Dr. Patterson. What’s your assessment from the scene?”

Bell filled in the doctor, giving him the details of Dane’s injuries while the trauma team quickly took X-rays to see if Dane had any other broken bones. Moving fast, they needed to get him upstairs to the OR.

“I’ll take a look as soon as they have him prepped, but it sounds like there’s no salvaging that leg,” Dr. Patterson said, so matter-of-fact that it sparked her temper.

“You can save it. It will be an effort, but I’m telling you it can be done.”

“The bone splintered and broke into multiple pieces. We’re talking more than a plate or two. It’ll be a miracle if it heals and he doesn’t have a permanent limp, or worse.”

“He’s an athlete in the prime of his life.”

“He’s a bull rider, hardly an Olympic sprinter or skier.”

Her anger flashed again. Her heart beat faster, and she fisted her hands so she didn’t wring his neck for dismissing Dane and his talent so easily. “I’m not going to argue the strength and skill it takes to ride bulls and broncos. I’m telling you, his leg is salvageable. You can do the job.”

“I’m telling you it’s probably not worth it with the amount of bone, tissue, and vascular damage.”

“And I’m telling you to save his leg.” Gabe stepped up beside them in the middle of the hectic ER. “If she says it can be done, then you better do it.”

Bell made the introductions. “Dr. Patterson, Gabe Bowden. Dane’s older brother. Next to him is his brother Blake, and this is Ella, Gabe’s wife.”

“Mr. Bowden, as I’ve discussed with Dr. Bell, the trauma to your brother’s leg is extensive. He’s in critical condition. We don’t even know if the artery and vessels can be repaired.”

Gabe glanced down at her.

She read the command in his eyes to give her opinion. “It can be done.”

“That’s an optimistic view from a doctor barely out of medical school.” Dr. Patterson’s snide comment didn’t faze her. She’d heard a lot worse when correcting or schooling a colleague much older than her twenty-six years.

Ella stepped in front of Gabe and took over like the CEO she was. Bell admired the young businesswoman’s confidence. “Dr. Bell may not want to correct your ignorant assumption, but I will. She graduated college at eighteen, medical school at twenty-two, and is a fourth-year orthopedic surgical resident at Bozeman Hospital and Surgical Center. I bet she outscored you in school and can outperform you in the operating room. So here is what is going to happen. You are going to get your boss in front of me and allow Dr. Bell in that operating room with Dane. If not, I will flood this hospital with the many lawyers I have at my disposal. Under no circumstances does my brother-in-law leave here without his leg—attached. Am I clear?”

“Mrs. Bowden, she doesn’t have privileges here or in this state, no matter her qualifications.”

“I’m sure exceptions are made for specialists. She is the specialist Dane needs. I won’t say it again. Make it happen, or I will.”

Gabe and Blake stood behind Ella like a wall of muscle backing her up. They glared at Dr. Patterson, who only took a second to walk over to the nurse’s station and pick up the phone. He didn’t look happy. Based on the grimace on his face, whatever he was saying to his boss tasted sour.

“Dr. Bell, you’re covered in blood.” Gabe whispered the words with a gentle tone.

For the first time, she held up her hands and stared at her bloodstained fingers. Her jeans were wet and sticky with Dane’s blood.

“I’m sure one of the nurses can find me a pair of scrubs.” In fact, one of the paramedics and a nurse came up, rolling a cart of supplies and a wheelchair.

“Have a seat, Doc. Let’s fix up that head wound,” the nurse said.

“I’m fine.”

Gillian, Blake’s wife, touched her shoulder. “When the adrenaline wears off, you’ll realize you’ve got a four-inch gash across your forehead and into your hair that’s going to hurt like hell in a second when you allow yourself to feel it. Let them clean it up.”

Bell touched her fingers to her head. Sure enough, they came away sticky with her blood mixed with Dane’s. She winced and hissed in a ragged breath. The anger waned from dealing with Dr. Patterson, and the pain became a part of her reality. It throbbed along with her rapid heartbeat. She needed to take a few deep breaths and calm down if she was going to be of any use to Dane in the OR.

“You got kicked in the head by a bull,” Blake said. “Take a minute to get yourself looked at by the medical staff.”

“You nearly got killed saving Dane’s life,” Gabe added.

Bell fell into the wheelchair, reality sinking in. Her mind filled with visions of that bull still trying to attack Dane and the lengths to which she’d gone to protect him. She could have been killed. Her stomach soured and dropped in her gut. She pressed her hand to it, trying not to think too closely about what motivated her to do it.

She touched her forehead again.
Can I do this surgery in this condition? Yes.
Her vision was clear, and so was her thinking. The surgical plan had already taken shape in her mind. She could do this. For him.

“Come on, we need to hurry. They’re taking Dane upstairs in two minutes,” the nurse coaxed.

“Sorry about this, Doc, no time for subtlety,” the paramedic said. He cleaned the wound with quick and effective, if not delicate, strokes with the saline-dampened swabs. “This needs stitches, but we’ll close it up with some butterfly bandages for now.”

Great. Stitches. Usually she was the one giving them, not getting them.

The nurse dumped a pair of scrubs in her lap. The paramedic worked fast to clean her face, ignoring the water dripping onto her ruined shirt. She went with it, mentally preparing for the surgery ahead.
If
they let her operate on Dane. Even if they only let her into the surgical suite, she’d keep an eye on the surgeons and make sure Dane got the care he needed.

She appreciated his family’s confidence and support. After all, she’d taken care of both Ella and Gillian over the last months, but none of their injuries compared to Dane’s.

“Let’s go. You’ve been approved for surgery by hospital administration,” the nurse said. “That’s one hell of a lady to get them to move this fast.”

Bell stood and followed the nurse, noting the feral gleam in Dr. Patterson’s eyes. Not the first time she’d stepped on a man’s ego.

Gabe and Blake stepped in front of her. Though words weren’t necessary, she read the worry and fear in their eyes as Gabe spoke for both of them. “Please, whatever you can do for him.”

She touched her hand to Gabe’s forearm. “I will do everything I can to save his leg. You need to be prepared if I can’t.”

“I know you can do it,” Gabe said.

“Do what?” Katherine asked, stepping up beside the group. She and Tony must have followed the Bowdens to the hospital to pick her up.

“I’m headed into surgery. It’ll be a few hours. Go back to the hotel. I’ll take a cab back when I’m done.”

“Surgery, Bell? Look at you. Your head.”

“I’m fine. I have to go. It’s already been nearly half an hour.”

Bell ran after the nurse waiting for her by the elevator. She got in and caught a last glimpse of Blake, with Gillian at his side, and Gabe with Ella. Bell wondered whether anyone would show up at the hospital and demand the best care for her if something happened to her.

She stared at her sister with her husband, Tony. She barely knew the woman. Jealousy still shimmered in her heart every time she looked at Katherine. The daughter her father wanted, cared for, loved. The one he kept—not the mistake and shame he hid away.

The elevator doors closed, but she held the image of Dane’s close family in her mind. She vowed she’d do everything in her power to keep her promise to them—to Dane.