CHAPTER THREE
The toboggan was secured by the doorway of the infirmary and the backboard containing Andrew was transferred to a makeshift gurney that allowed patients to be moved into the first aid room with minimal movement. It was something they had built themselves one slow Sunday a few years ago, and it went a long way toward limiting the jarring to potentially broken bones.
Casey was pushing the wheeled trolley with help from the head patroller, Richard Emory, but stopped quickly as Andrew tried to sit up, nearly overbalancing the cart.
“I have to fffind them.” Andrew repeated hoarsely through numb lips.
She felt his pain as he winced, and fell back onto the backboard.
“It’s OK…easy now…” Rich’s voice was low and soothing.
Casey watched as he worked his magic and, with few words, calmed their patient.
Who was Angela? A wife? Were Janie and Paula his children? For a moment Casey felt oddly deflated. Of course he would be married. Someone as good-looking as he was had to be.
“My nnnieces…. Somewhere on the hill…. supposed to be lllooking after them…” his voice trailed away weakly as his shivering became too strong to allow easy speech. “They’re still out there sssomewhere. I can’t believe I ffforgot about them until nnnow.”
His struggle to speak through the cold and shivering tore at Casey’s heartstrings.
“PPPaula and Janie. CCCan someone find them… let them know what happened … where I am?”
Another shiver racked his body.
“Of course…” Casey agreed quickly. “Can you tell us what they look like, or what they’re wearing?”
“Young, blond….Janie’s twelve. Yellow ski sssuit, blue bbboots, blue hat……Paula…onnnnly eight, pink ski pppants, Barbie jjjacket and hat.”
Rich’s voice summoned Roberta from where she was cleaning up the toboggan supplies in preparation for the return trip up the mountain.
“Robbie, when you finish repacking the supplies, head on over to the lodge and look for the girls, on your way there let Base know what we’re looking for so they can alert the other patrollers.” He instructed.
“Aye, aye, Sir!” She saluted smartly and smiled. Rich just shook his head.
With a sigh of relief that signified better than any words his appreciation that the girls would be located, Andrew shut his eyes and allowed himself to be wheeled over to the nearest bed.
Casey and Rich quickly transferred the shivering man to the hard cot.
Casey tucked a warm woolen blanket around Andrew’s shoulders. Her hands lingered a little too long, and she snatched them away. She felt the heat of a blush warming her cheeks. Thankfully Rich had been busy returning the gurney to the front doorway and hadn’t seen her embarrassing reaction. He was approaching now, and Casey pulled herself together and filled her mentor and friend in on what she had found in her examination. She handed Rich her notes. Satisfied her patient was in goods hands; she headed towards the locker room to remove her wet ski gear.
“Casey!”
Casey glanced at Rich inquiringly.
“When you’re ready you can stay with the patient. We’re swamped today.” He shook his head, his forehead wrinkling in a scowl. “This weather is causing more accidents than we can handle. You know his history; you can do the paperwork and get him transported.” Then as if she was no longer there, Rich turned back to the man on the bed and began to strip off his wet clothing.
Casey didn’t take offence at his quick dismissal, she knew his patients came first and speed was of the essence if they were to prevent hypothermia. It was also necessary to get a better view of his wounds.
Roberta was halfway out the door when she stopped and turned towards Casey. She winked. “Even looking like a drowned rat, he’s a pretty dishy specimen.” She waggled her eyebrows archly. “You lucky girl, make sure you do a thorough inspection.” She laughed at the expression on Casey's face, and was still laughing as she walked through the door and headed towards the lodge.
Casey glared at her retreating back, turned and entered the patroller locker room, shaking her head at her friend’s teasing. She took a deep breath. This was one patient she would have handed off to someone else in a heartbeat. Was it the weather, the fog that closed around them like a glove that caused the feeling of intimacy, that indefinable connection? She could only hope for her sanity that it was all a hallucination caused by some unknown electric reaction within the storm.
Removing her wet jacket and ski pants, she was pleased to note that her leggings and turtleneck sweater had remained mostly dry. She stowed her gear carefully in the drying locker, gave her short coppery curls a quick drying with a handy towel, and with her most professional demeanour firmly in place, strode back into the infirmary.
And stopped dead in her tracks.
Rich had managed to remove Andrew’s wet clothing and was starting to tape his cracked rib. Lying there half naked, barely covered with a couple of the scratchy standard issue wool blankets, Andrew looked even more handsome than she had thought up on the hill. His hair was cropped in a short professional style, softened by what her Mom used to call a cowlick that curled at his temple. A half-day’s worth of beard growth covered his jaw like pale sandpaper. He looked rugged and very, very masculine. Casey contemplated turning tail and running away as fast as her legs could take her, but rejected that course of action almost immediately. She wasn't a child. He was only a patient. He certainly couldn't hurt her. And just because she didn't know how to deal with a natural physical reaction to a good looking man, it shouldn't preclude her from doing her job. Should it?
Running away was still tempting.
She took a deep breath to get herself under control. Smoothing her turquoise turtleneck over her flat stomach nervously, she gave herself a mental shake and proceeded farther into the room. “How does he look Rich?” She was relieved that her voice sounded calm, with just the right hint of concern.
Rich flashed her a quick glance.
Damn, maybe not as calm as she had hoped. Thankfully Rich just answered her question. “Not great, your assessment was correct.” Rich turned back to the patient. “He has a twisted knee, at least one broken rib and is borderline hypothermic. There’s no indication of internal injuries but he needs to see a doctor to rule out anything for sure. The ambulance is on its way. Good call, requesting it.” He turned back to the patient to finish taping his cracked ribs, and then covered him to the chin with the heavy wool blankets. “I’ve removed his wet clothes and threw them in the dryer; they should be dry by the time the ambulance arrives. He’s got warm pack under his armpits and between his legs, but he’s still shivering.”
Rich stood up and prepared to leave. “I’ve got other patients to see to and we have a broken femur on its way in any moment. You can take care of this can’t you?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “He still needs his leg stabilized for transport and you’ll have to watch his temperature.” Rich’s tone was off-handed as he strode towards the infirmary door.
Casey felt a small bubble of pride. She knew Rich had no qualms over leaving her in charge. She was one of the best volunteers as far as her first aid was concerned, and had proven it three years running by winning the Division first aid competition.
As she stared at his departing back, her pride turned to concern.
And then the concern turned to desperation.
The leg she could handle, and she knew how important it was to warm the patient up. But if his temperature didn’t rise with the use of the heat packs alone she knew that without any other means to heat him quickly they were limited to using body heat. And that meant she would have to take off most of her clothing and get in next to him. She suddenly felt as if she was standing in a spotlight with everyone staring at her, watching her control slowly slip away, as ephemeral as the fog outside. Boy, it got hot in here fast; she laughed at herself to help control her thoughts. Be professional, he needs your help, and if th
at’s what you need to do, you’ll do it. “Control… Think cold lake, ice cubes, ugly animals….” Taking a deep breath, she turned to check on her patient.
“Do you always talk to yourself?” Andrew opened his eyes and smiled at the sexy female patroller leaning over his bed. “I’ve heard it’s a sign of senility.” He joked weakly.
He felt cold and miserable and sore with an extremely large dose of stupid thrown in. How the heck had he managed to end up in here? He couldn’t believe a couple of pre-teens had managed to out-ski him. Where were the girls? His sister was going to kill him. “Has anyone managed to track down my nieces?” He hitched himself up higher on the bed, wincing at the pain in his rib as he did. He felt as weak as a baby, and it wasn’t a feeling he was used to, or appreciated.
“You shouldn’t be moving,” The woman chastised him and pulled the blankets farther up around his chilled body. “Roberta is on her way to find them. And we have every other patroller keeping an eye out. It’s not that big of a hill, they'll be here soon."
He knew she was only trying to relieve his anxiety, and he appreciated the effort. She'd even smiled slightly at his attempt at a joke. He continued to watch her steadily. Cute, he thought as she fluttered around him, fixing blankets and checking vitals. Heat flashed through his body as she checked the temperature of the skin on his forehead with her wrist. His reaction to her touch surprised him. His curiosity grew.
She grabbed a thermometer from the table next to the bed and had it stuck in his mouth and under his tongue before he even realized what she was doing.
“Your skin temperature feels more normal. You’ve had a very close brush with hypothermia. That’s why you’re feeling so weak. All the blood in your extremities was beginning to rush to your vital organs to keep them warm. Once you started to warm up the blood flow resumed its normal course again. You should start feeling stronger in a few minutes as the rest of your body warms up.” She was babbling, she knew it, but couldn't seem to control it.
He pulled the thermometer out of his mouth to ask: “How did you manage to get that all out without taking a breath?” He teased, and was rewarded with an annoyed glare as she took the thermometer and stuck it back in his mouth. She stared at her watch for a very long minute with a serious look on her face, and then pulled the thermometer out of his mouth. She examined the reading.
"Your temperature is normal, that's a good sign. How are you feeling?” He didn't miss the fact that she'd ignored his facetious question, and watched her closely as she turned away to fuss with the hot packs.
“I feel cold and stupid and sore, but a bit stronger now that my body seems to have thawed out a bit. You said my leg isn't broken?” Andrew shifted awkwardly and reached down carefully to rub his sore leg.
“No, it looks like you just have a badly sprained knee and a lot of bruising. A doctor will be able to give you a better idea of what the problem is. You probably also have a broken rib, which could mean internal injuries, although from your color and the speed you seem to be recovering it’s probably unlikely. But we can’t completely rule them out here. You’ll have to see your doctor for that.”
“Are you the one helped me up there on the hill?” At her nod of acquiescence: “I wasn’t sure if you were a woman or not, those shapeless outfits and packs make it hard to tell,” He said almost to himself, “…but you seem to be a very pretty one, now that I can see you properly.” He couldn’t stop his admiring glance from roaming over the length of her, taking in the mop of startling copper curls that lightly framed her face as they dried; the haunting uncertainty in her incredible emerald eyes; the way she was chewing so endearingly on her full lower lip, so beautifully bare of any make-up.
His gaze traveled down farther noting, with masculine appreciation, the petite proportions, narrow waist and how her navy blue leggings fit so snugly around her slim hips and femininely muscular thighs. Maybe she wasn’t quite as glamorous as he was used to but she was definitely adorable, and really quite sexy.
His gaze once again grazed her face, noting with amusement that her complexion had become an attractive shade of pink. And wondered at the flash of something that resembled fear he saw flit across her expression and the tension in her compact body.
“Pardon me?” Casey was totally mortified. Was he making a pass at her? It was one thing to find him attractive when he was practically unconscious, but this wide-awake and virile man lounging in front of her with hardly any clothes on was another thing completely.
“What’s your name, little angel of mercy?”
The gravelly voice sent shivers up her spine.
“Casey Adams.” She managed to croak out her name, forgetting in her nervousness that it was unwise to reveal last names to unknown patients.
In her state of heightened awareness, she could feel the heat of his gaze as it roamed over her body. She could feel every fiber of her damp clothing rub against her overheating skin. Even her sense of smell was heightened and her nostrils quivered as the smell the infirmary, pungent with the aromas of sweat and antiseptic, invaded her every pore. The thought that she should be insulted at his blatant appraisal had barely even crossed her mind. Nervously she rubbed her hands down her thighs, and she felt her face burn again as his gaze followed the path her hands took. She quickly pulled them away from her legs and crossed her arms over her waist. Damn her pale skin.
“Well, Casey Adams, it’s nice to meet you, and thank you for helping me.”
He held out his hand and watched her as if he could see inside her head to the turmoil and longing that slowly simmered, waiting for something she couldn’t define. Casey stared at the large masculine hand for what seemed to be an eternity, but in reality wasn’t even long enough for Andrew to notice her hesitation. Thankfully. With a small indrawn breath she placed her hand in his. Her fingers were immediately enveloped in the strongest, gentlest grip she had ever felt. It sent a bolt of electricity shooting through her arm, making what she felt earlier a spark in comparison.
Her shocked gaze locked with his assessing one. Did he feel it too? She pulled her arm back quickly, hugging it next to her body again protectively. “It’s no problem, it’s my job.” Was that her voice? “Get a grip Casey.” She berated herself under her breath as she turned away.
“Talking to yourself again?” He laughed at her softly, then winced as the movement of his chest aggravated his broken rib.
Casey shot him a reproachful look and, ignoring his question, turned away to grab a cardboard splint. They almost never got the wooden ones back from the ambulance attendants and had recently started the practice of using cardboard ones. The cardboard worked just as well for stabilization, but it wasn’t so much of a problem if they didn’t get returned. And concentrating on the splint helped to keep her mind off her patient.
Putting on her most professional face she took a deep breath and turned back towards the man on the bed. Working quickly, and with a minimum of personal contact, she stabilized his knee for transport to the hospital.
She finished, grabbed a clipboard and incident report from a nearby table and, regarding him coolly, perched herself on the edge of a nearby folding chair. She was almost able to ignore the appraising look he pinned on her the entire time.
Almost.
“I just need some information from you for our records.” She settled herself more comfortably in the hard metal chair. “An ambulance is on its way to transport you to the hospital. We feel its best due to the nature of your injuries."
“Probably a good thing, I definitely won't be able to drive myself and my sister has a small car and a baby; she’ll need all the space just for the kids. There won’t be anyplace for me to stretch this out.” He pointed to his splinted knee.
“Great. I’ll just need someone’s name and address as a contact person, your sister? A wife?” Casey hoped her voice didn’t sound as feeble as she felt.
The blanket fell away to reveal rippling muscles as he attempted to mak
e himself more comfortable against the head of the bed.
Casey stared. She couldn’t help it. It was all she could do to keep herself from pouncing, ripping the blanket away and burying herself in his warm nakedness. His body was beautiful… if a man’s body can be described that way. He resembled a Pagan God, or at least the way she thought a Pagan God would look: Masculine, strong, completely in control even in his pain. The light dusting of hair on his chest just begged for fingers to be raked through it. Casey tore her eyes away from the play of muscles in his taught stomach, and found him watching her, a speculative look on his face.
Her pulse quickened. She felt like a rabbit caught under the eagle eye of some circling bird of prey, but surprisingly, this time it wasn’t fear she was feeling.
Not at all.
Interminable moments later, Andrew lowered his lashes. He answered her question so calmly she was able to convince herself that he hadn’t been able to read the lust on her face, in her eyes…oozing from every pore.
“I’m not married. You can call my sister. Her phone number and address are in the booklet in the inner pocket of my jacket. She’ll need to come and get the girls. Any sign of them yet?” He pulled the wool blankets up under his chin.
Casey felt equal parts relief and disappointment.
“I’ll check for you.” Casey let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding and practically ran over to the in-house phone.
A quick call to the main office and she had her information. With a smile she walked back to Andrew. “They’ve been found, they’ll be here any minute”
At Andrew’s smile of thanks: “Now, about those questions….”
Casey was just finishing up the incident report when the door burst open and a small blond whirlwind ran into the room. The girl was crying inconsolably.
About to launch herself on her uncle, she was caught from behind.
“Whoa, little girl, your uncle is a little sore right now, you’ll have to be careful around him for a while.” Roberta cautioned.
An older girl…Janie probably, Casey surmised remembering Andrew’s description from earlier… entered the room just behind Roberta. That would mean the little whirlwind must be Paula.
“OK,” Paula promised rubbing the sleeve of her hot pink ski-suit across her dripping nose. “I’ll be careful.”
Casey chuckled quietly at the solemn gaze Paula turned on Roberta.
Cautiously letting go of the girl, Roberta allowed her to walk over to her uncle’s bed.
Janie followed at a more dignified pace. The dampness on her cheek and over bright sparkle to her eyes were the only indications of the concern she felt when her uncle had failed to show up at their designated meeting place.
“Found them, Boss.” Roberta smiled at Rich as he entered the busy room to see what the commotion was all about. “They were waiting at the lodge for their uncle to come down. Just in time too. They were about to head back up the hill to look for him.” Roberta shook her blond, pony- tailed head; the look on her face reflected her dismay at the plan that could have resulted in horrible consequences.
Casey turned back to her paperwork and busied herself cleaning up the room. But her mind kept straying to the complicated man behind her. Andrew was so gentle with the girls, so sweet and caring and kind and incredibly patient, just listening to them was almost enough to bring tears to her eyes. A man that gorgeous who was single, and good with children? And he was definitely into women, if his appreciative banter earlier was anything to go by.
So how is it he didn't have a wife, or girlfriend?
She moved away from the family reunion and, pulling a chair up to the chipped melamine table that doubled as a break room table and work station, started repacking some toboggan packs that would need to be sent up the hill later.
So what was wrong with him? Was he like Scott… a cheating, violent, Lothario? Or was there some other reason that had kept him from committing to one woman? His job maybe? Maybe he’d just never found the right woman? Or maybe he’d been hurt at some point in his life and was now afraid to commit. Although that didn’t fit at all with the overconfident man she sensed him to be. Maybe he was just a jerk and a womanizer…. or was just a normal single guy quite happy just being able to do his own thing with whoever happened to pique his interest and just didn't want to be tied down. Oh, for God's sake, Casey berated herself for her train of thought. What's it to me anyway?
A warm breath tickled her ear.
Casey whipped her head around, her lips within inches of Andrews laughing mouth. He was so close she could almost kiss him. She felt her heart switch into overdrive. Jerk womanizers could still be damn sexy.
He was dressed again in his now dry ski gear and was propped up on a stretcher held between two burly ambulance attendants. They were all grinning down at her as she stared, transfixed by Andrew’s laughing blue eyes.
“Bye little angel of mercy, thanks for all your help.”
His voice was warm, appreciative, and oh so sexy.
Oh, and did she happen to mention, sexy?
It was all she could do to nod, afraid if she tried to respond her words would come out as little more than a high pitched squeak. She recovered to see Andrew being helped out to the waiting ambulance, and the girls skipping off to meet their mother.
Surprised at how tense she had been, Casey’s muscles uncoiled and she collapsed against the back of her chair. She stared at the ceiling. The realization that she had been so engrossed in her thoughts that she had missed the ambulance’s arrival was unsettling. Andrew had somehow managed to fill her senses to the exclusion of everything else. Casey couldn’t remember anyone ever having such a profound effect on her before.
Not that it mattered. He was gone and that was the end of it, she’d never see him again. And didn't want to anyway. He was nothing to her, just another patient. Besides he was just another jerk womanizer. It was a good thing he was gone.
Two patrollers ran into the room, interrupting her reverie. More accidents. It was going to be a busy evening. Casey ran into the locker room, put on her still wet ski suit and boots, and grabbed her skis from the rack; at least keeping busy would stop her from thinking about Andrew and his sexy voice, not to mention his body. She closed her eyes briefly as if in prayer and rubbed the back of her tired neck, he was out of her league anyway.
And probably a jerk womanizer.
With that thought firmly planted in her head, she walked out the door towards the lift. Plans for a break and the once craved hot chocolate completely forgotten.