Lightning Strikes. Mary Baxter Lynn

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      Chapter Six

      “Hey, Doc, I’m bleedin’ like a stuck pig.”

      Amanda rolled her eyes at the patient’s analogy, though she couldn’t stop a smile from relaxing her tired features. “Right, Mr. Osburn. But hopefully we’ll have you fixed up in no time.”

      Frank Osburn, a rough-looking logger who lived in a trailer up in the mountains, had had a physical altercation with his wife. Unfortunately, he’d come out on the short end of the ordeal.

      “You’re lucky you’re not in surgery about now. As is, you’re only suffering from a scalp wound.”

      “If that’s so, Doc, why did I bleed all over creation?”

      “Head wounds often do that, Mr. Osburn.”

      He cut his eyes to Liz Roberts, the buxom, gray-headed nurse who was aiding Amanda. “That so?”

      Amanda met Liz’s green eyes over the man’s head, and they both smiled. “Of course she’s right. She’s the doctor.”

      “That don’t make her right,” he retorted. “In fact, I don’t care much for women doctors.”

      “Well, I’m sorry you feel that way,” Amanda said, not in the least sorry, “but you’re stuck with me.”

      “On a night like this,” Liz added, “you should be grateful someone’s available to help you.”

      He snorted, then rubbed his beard, a beard that Amanda thought looked as if it had never been washed. She bet it had lice in it. She raised a silent toast to the person who invented gloves.

      “How much longer, Doc?” he asked, beginning to squirm.

      “Please, don’t move,” Amanda responded, taking another meticulous stitch in the deep gash above his left eye.

      “Ouch!”

      “Sorry, but that beer bottle—”

      “Beer bottle, hell!” he cut in, his whiskey voice lowered to an even rougher pitch. “It was the damn woman who hit me. Why, she weighs more than I do and is stronger.”

      Amanda quelled her urge to give him a gash over the other eye. This brute of a man probably deserved what he got, but judging those whom she administered to didn’t fall under her job description. Besides, she knew the man was in real pain. If the cut had been any deeper, he’d be upstairs in Noah’s care.

      Noah.

      Her body tensed, and for a second, her hand stopped in midaction, which instantly garnered a puzzled look from the nurse. Amanda couldn’t allow herself to step into that hole. Further thoughts of Dr. Howell were definitely taboo.

      Anyway, who had time to dwell on personal issues? She certainly didn’t, not tonight, not when the whole town was in crisis. The weather was worsening along with the emergencies at Vanderbilt. The care and responsibility of the ER fell to her and Dr. Sloane.

      The radio announcers were reiterating what the police had said, encouraging people to stay indoors, not to venture out unless it was absolutely necessary. So much for cooperation, Amanda thought, as this man had been boozing it up in a bar.

      “All finished, Mr. Osburn.”

      “‘Bout time,” he mumbled, reaching up to the bandage, only to drop his hand quickly. “Damn, that hurt!”

      “I’ll write you a prescription for pain. In a few days, you’ll need to see your doctor.”

      “Ain’t got no doctor.”

      “Come back in two weeks, and I’ll take the stitches out.”

      He muttered something else under his breath, then slid off the table and shuffled out of the room, just as the wail of a siren sounded close by.

      “Do you think this night’ll ever end?” Liz asked, her forehead creased in a frown.

      Amanda shook her head. “Doesn’t look like it. Even as we speak, another ambulance just pulled up.”

      “Well, you just let me see what’s going on. If I need help, I’ll get Beth. Meanwhile, take a break and put on a clean coat. That creep was right. He did bleed like a stuck pig.”

      “Thanks, Liz. But this is not all that creep’s blood.”

      “Ah, right,” Liz remarked in a sober tone. “You worked on those kids.”

      Amanda’s mouth turned down. “I hope the girl pulls through. Which reminds me, I should check on the boy.”

      “He’s doing fine. In fact, Karen said his parents might even be able to take him home.”

      “If they can get here.”

      Liz frowned again. “Isn’t that the truth? I’ve never seen weather like this in all my fifty-five years.”

      “Me, neither.”

      “But then, you’re not fifty-five.” Liz smiled.

      “Maybe not in years,” Amanda said, “but miles—now, that’s a different story.”

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