Risk Factors. Calisa Rhose

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СКАЧАТЬ body to call for help. She crept closer to the wails, weak and pathetic compared to the ruckus of rescue machinery. The cries seemed to be coming from behind the truck cab’s huge rear tires just feet from the car. There was nothing to do but crawl under the rig. Night was falling and emergency lights flashed eerily around her in the dusk. The groaning shift of steel stalled her heart, but not her determination. She squatted and reached out to the warm pavement and stretched to try to see deeper into the growing shadows, her previous discomfort forgotten.

      “Hey.” Someone grabbed her ankle and pulled as Viv struggled to get free. Strong hands held fast until she was sitting in clear view. A fireman stared down at her with a look that said he suspected she’d lost her mind. “Go in and you might not come out. This mess might roll any minute.”

      She didn’t know the fireman, but took a chance she wasn’t crazy. “I heard a something. Another dog perhaps.”

      “Nah, weren’t but the one.”

      “Well, what about a baby? There’s an empty car seat in the car. Are either of the parents conscious enough to speak? You have to check.” Viv challenged the fireman with desperation. The last she’d heard, neither parent was conscious and the two young children were too upset or incoherent. Please, let it be a dog.

      “Nothing’s under the truck. Its weight is constantly shifting and squealing. That’s all. I can’t go in without instruction.”

      “Then get permission. One of us is going to check. You? Me? Your choice.”

      “Damn it, lady–” He swore a few more colorful words, then yanked his radio up to grumble into the mic. After a terse moment he spun, gave a curt headshake, and dove under the truck. He wasn’t her greatest fan.

      She could live with that knowledge.

      “Doctor… Imagine it’s your kid who’s lost.” Her words didn’t help his opinion of her, but she refused to walk away. You’ll feel stupid when this turns out to be nothing. She’d been there before.

      As her thoughts settled, he wriggled backward on his belly. He frog-kicked to help pull his body, his arms busy with a small bundle.

      “You found it!” A baby. The idea of what would have happened to the child had she not heard the cries sent cold fear through Viv in a dizzy wave. Dear God, the baby would have been the only casualty. The thought caused her stomach muscles to knot, and bile rose in her throat again.

      The fireman’s next words made her forget everything, however.

      “And you get her, Doc.”

      “I don’t know anything about babies. Wait!”

      “Take her to the ambulance.”

      The fireman was already out of sight as Viv stared down at the bundle in her arms and then surveyed the area. What ambulance, she wasn’t sure. She didn’t see any since the last one had pulled out with the last family member. Panic motivating her race around the wreck, she spotted the paramedic. He was hurrying toward the helicopter he’d arrived in and she tightened her grip on the baby, hoping to catch sexy eyes before he took flight.

      “Wait!” No one could hear her over the sound of the rotors and blades. The roar of helicopter motors revving was deafening. Viv paused to look for the medic and attempted to cover the infant’s ears to protect her fragile eardrums. Fighting panic, she ran headlong into the wind tunnel caused by the propellers, and hopefully to a qualified someone who would take her charge.

      Tears wet and dried on her cheeks, but she finally pushed to the open craft door. The paramedic glanced up, down, and then back up in the span of a blink and Viv held the baby out. With a nod, he stepped over and accepted the baby. Viv almost sank to the ground with immense relief. She backed away so the helicopter could take its patients to the hospital. The medic sat near the door, his face one big question mark before the door slid closed, blocking him from sight.

      * * * *

      “Daddy, Skittles didn’t eat her cereal and her water is still full. I think she’s sick. Maybe it’s a tummy bug.”

      Less than four hours’ sleep, in the past twenty-four hours on shift, left Connor drained. Barely seven in the evening after the usual Sunday dinner at his parents, and exhaustion dampened the desire to mess with a temperamental animal.

      “Maybe she’s not in the mood tonight.” The you’ve-got-to-be-kidding squint Janna nailed him with confirmed she thought otherwise and he quickly amended his assumption. “We’ll keep an eye on her and see how she’s doing tomorrow, honey. Daddy’s very tired, and the veterinarian offices are closed today.” Too tired to stay awake, much less risk other lives by driving an hour to an animal urgent care center in Joplin, he decided Skittles could wait.

      “Did you have a bad day?”

      He slid a sleepy gaze from his reclined position in the comfy old La-Z-Boy to Janna and smiled. “Never too bad to enjoy my little princess.” Bad day? Like none in a while. A drowning had occupied his evening, a train wreck for lunch–hold the mayo, please–and an idiot who didn’t know not to drink and drive. Thankfully, only one fatality had marred the day. Five minutes out from Grand Mercy Medical Center in Joplin, the drowning victim had crashed. No matter how many times he’d seen death, Connor couldn’t get past the self-blame. The car wreck tied up the end of his shift.

      He’d said it a million times, if he’d said it once: drinking and driving didn’t mix. Today had been long, but not horrible.

      Well, not horrible work-wise for him. On Tuesday he’d see his superior about Nurse Henley, though. She had no business in a helicopter. Ten feet off the ground and she’d tossed her cookies and passed out from claustrophobia, or fear of heights. Thirty minutes and a replacement later, they finally got the EC-130 off the ground. On second thought, he probably wouldn’t need to tell anybody the poor woman couldn’t fly. It would be all over the hospital by now.

      “Daddy?” Janna’s sweet face loomed over him with a worried expression wrinkling her brow.

      “Yeah, sweetheart?” He hated seeing her so worried about him. Keep it light for the girl, Con. Never mix work with her. Never mix anything harmful with Janna.

      “Are you okay?”

      “I’m fine. Why, Jelly Bean?”

      “Because your face got all scrunched up like when you eat Gramma’s sweet ’tater mush.”

      “Did it? I must’ve been thinking about her sweet ’tater dish. I hope she doesn’t make it next Sunday when we go to lunch.” The taste of his mother’s gooey casserole turned his stomach, but he’d rather die than hurt her feelings.

      After the way Joy and Levi McKay had taken him in, a beat down twelve-year-old, and put up with his orneriness–and then adopted him to prove he wasn’t any trouble–he vowed never to be a spot of pain for them again. But, the orange soupy crud…Mama had won multiple ribbons at the county fair over the years for the stuff. Darned if he knew how. Possibly the judges gauged by the rich color, instead of taste?

      “Well, Skittles won’t eat. I wonder if Gramma fed her sweet ’tater mush?” Janna spoke in a mature, matter-of-fact tone and Connor squelched the urge to laugh.

      So much for his daughter being worried about him. Connor sat up and leaned around СКАЧАТЬ