Undercover Scout. Jenna KernanЧитать онлайн книгу.
had hoped that with the arrival of FEMA things would get better. But the EMTs had just brought him another patient. He knew this one. Not unusual on such a small reservation. But this one was the son of his high school friend Robert Corrales.
Robert had the boy when they were in tenth grade and Robbie Junior was now twelve years old. But he wouldn’t make thirteen if Kee didn’t stop the bleeding.
Lori Mott assisted and he was happy for the extra hands. Redhorse, his mind corrected. She was no longer a Mott, since she had married his younger brother Jake, less than a month ago. Kee kept forgetting to call her Lori Redhorse. His brother had married the nurse so fast, he still hadn’t gotten accustomed to the change.
Kee assessed the damage. The EMTs had done a fair job stopping the bleeding on his arm. But his head wound wasn’t the same story. The plate-glass window had opened a gash on Robbie’s forehead that was giving Kee trouble. Lori kept pressure on that wound, allowing him the time he needed to clamp the artery Robbie had sliced open in his right forearm. Either one was hemorrhaging fast enough to kill him. The boy was pale from shock and blood loss, his lips had gone blue and his skin had taken on the ghastly pallor of a corpse.
“Got it,” he said. “I’ll finish that after I stitch his head.”
“The EMT said he didn’t think he could make it to Darabee,” said Lori.
“He was right.” Kee quickly stitched the gash that ran in a jagged line from the boy’s hairline to above the outer edge of his eyebrow.
Lori shook her head as she assessed the lacerations. “I’ll get another Ringer’s lactate. You want plasma?”
“No. This should do.”
Lori left him to use the computer terminal at the intake station in the FEMA trailer that now served as their urgent care facility. When she came back with the fluids he had the gash closed.
“As soon as he’s stable, arrange transport to Darabee,” said Kee.
Darabee was only twenty miles away but with the river road under construction and the switchbacks leading down the mountain the ride was thirty to forty minutes from Piňon Forks, and from Turquoise Ridge, where the clinic had been temporarily placed, it was more like an hour.
Lori finished inserting the IV and nodded. “You got it. His dad is waiting.”
“He needs a vascular surgeon if he’s going to keep that hand.”
“Betty is calling over. They’ll have one.” She smiled at him. His sister-in-law, he realized. Jake was a lucky man. He was so happy the two had finally worked out their differences.
“Good work, Kee.”
Kee stripped off his gloves as Dr. Hector Hauser stepped into the curtained examining area.
“Need a hand?” he asked.
“We got it,” said Kee.
Lori pulled the blood pressure cuff off the wall and slipped it around Robbie’s thin arm.
Hauser looked around at the amount of blood and bloody gauze and gave a low whistle. He checked the boy’s pupils and his pulse.
“Weak,” he said and then checked the IV bag suspended on the stainless-steel rack.
Day poked his head into the room. “Need a hand?”
Before he could answer, Hauser waved him off. “We got it.”
Kee gave Day an apologetic shrug. Day’s mouth was a grim line as he sighed and returned the way he had come.
“I’ll speak to the dad,” said Hauser.
“You know his expertise is emergency medicine. Right?” Kee lifted his chin toward the exam area Day occupied. “He’s taken the FEMA emergency medical specialist training. And he’s board certified.”
“Well, if the trailer collapses, I’ll be sure to call him.”
Hauser returned a few minutes later with Robbie’s younger brother, Teddy, who had a gash on his lower leg.
“Parents didn’t even see this one,” said Hector. “Cut himself getting to his brother.” He switched to Tonto. “You are a hero, son. Got his big brother help in time.”
Teddy gave him a confused stare. Hector’s smile dropped. “Did you understand that?”
Teddy shook his head.
Hector sighed. It was a crusade of his, that children learn their language. He held Teddy’s hand and steered the boy out of the curtained area and right into the boys’ parents.
Robert Corrales turned to Kee but peered past him to his older boy. “Is Robbie going to be okay?”
“He’ll need some surgery at Darabee. But, yes, he’s going to make it.”
Robert threw himself at Kee, forcing Kee to take a step back as Robert hugged him. His wife joined in and Kee was pressed like chicken salad between two slices of bread. Weeping and thank-yous blurred together. Lori took Teddy into the exam area beside Robbie’s to wait for Dr. Hauser, and the parents crossed through the curtain to their oldest child.
It was another twenty minutes more before Kee was satisfied that Robbie was ready for transport. Robert accompanied his son and his wife remained with Teddy.
Once his patient was off, Kee waited for Hector to finish stitching up Teddy’s lower leg. Kee was aiming for the momentary pause between one patient and the next to speak to Hector about his decision to resign from the clinic. Kee had agonized about leaving at such a time, but his mother had decided to foster the three teenage Doka girls. A wonderful act on her part, but unfortunately, a decision that would leave Kee without a place to live once they returned to Piňon Flats. The young fosterlings would need the space. Kee had moved in with his mother to help decrease his monthly expenses, and it was unrealistic of him to expect to afford a place of his own on his current salary. Not with the massive medical school debt hanging over his head.
Dr. Hauser had been only slightly older than he was now when Kee had first met him in the tribe’s health clinic. He had not known at the time that meeting Hector would change his life. Kee wanted nothing more than to stay on his reservation and tend the sick and injured on Turquoise Canyon. But you did not always get what you wanted. And he had financial obligations that could no longer be put off.
Hector glanced up at Kee over the thick black rims of his transition lenses. His hairline had receded to the point where he had more forehead than hair. What was left was trimmed short so you could see the single gold medicine shield earring he wore in his right earlobe. Kee frowned as he noticed the diagonal earlobe crease, knowing that it was a possible indicator of coronary artery disease.
Hauser lifted his brow, making his forehead a field of furrows. “What’s up?” he asked.
“I need a minute.”
“Sure. Hand me that gauze.” He pointed with a thick finger, his light russet skin a sharp contrast against the white of his lab coat. The dam collapse, which had necessitated them moving into the temporary FEMA trailers, had tripled their workload. Kee had never expected any sort of terrorism to touch his little corner of Arizona. But he thought that the extra load might be too much for Hector, judging from the puffy circles beneath his eyes.
Kee handed over the gauze and Dr. Hauser stripped off the outer covering, then expertly wrapped the boy’s leg in a herringbone pattern that would prevent slipping.
“There, now,” he said to the boy. “All done.”
The boy still had tear tracks on his cheeks but he was quiet now that the Novocain was working and the blood had been mopped up. Hauser turned to the boy’s mother. “Give him some Tylenol when you get him home. Two 80 mg tablets, three times a day, for today only, and keep this dry. Bring him back in ten days and I’ll take out the stitches.”
The boy swung his legs off the table and glanced at