IGNORING HER SQUEAK of protest, Zach picked up Jenna’s foot and began untying the laces of her boot. He was glad to see she was wearing the regulation steel-toed boots, even if they were the smallest pair he’d ever seen.
“I bet you didn’t let anyone look at this last night, did you?” he challenged. He honestly didn’t get it. What was so hard about accepting a little help?
Jenna crossed her arms over her chest in a gesture of mute stubbornness.
Taking her silence for agreement, he shook his head as he slid her boot off and peeled back her sock. The simple act shouldn’t have oozed intimacy, but it did. He’d never considered feet sexy, but Jenna appealed to him on more than one level, including, it appeared, a strange fetish with her toes, which were painted a bright, cheery pink.
Knock it off, Taylor, she’s one of your coworkers. She has trouble written all over her. Stop fantasizing.
Gently, he probed the cut along the side of her foot. When he heard her swift intake of breath, he froze, then glanced at her.
“Are you all right?” He might be annoyed with her martyr mentality, but the idea of causing her pain made his stomach roll.
“Just get the stupid thing out already.” Her beautiful features were pulled into a dark, impatient scowl.
Zach lifted a brow at her tone. Darned if Jenna Reed wasn’t one tough cookie. Although he had to admit, she hadn’t looked so tough last night, wearing nothing more than a threadbare T-shirt, giving him plenty of opportunity to appreciate her long, shapely legs and curvy backside. He’d never seen her with her hair loose. Last night it had taken every ounce of control he possessed to keep from sinking his hand into the mane of long straight black hair to see if the strands were as soft as they looked.
Her prickly personality, on the other hand, proved his earlier assessment was correct. She represented T-R-O-U-B-L-E in capital letters. She had a strong work ethic, and though he’d only flown with Jenna during training, he’d been impressed with her ability to focus on what needed to be done.
Too bad she didn’t have the least bit of common sense. The way she’d helped out at the crash scene last night, jumping into the fray without considering the potential harm to herself, was a perfect example.
Which was why he was here now, looking for glass in her foot. Who went to a crash scene wearing ridiculous foot gear like beach sandals? Pushing memories of last night aside, Zach reached for the flight bag, dragged it toward him and fished inside for a sterile scalpel and tweezers.
“What are you doing?” She jerked her foot from his grasp when she caught sight of the scalpel.
“Easy, I won’t use the scalpel unless I have to.” He set the scalpel aside, surprised at the kink in her tough façade. “I won’t hurt you.”
“Yeah, right.” She gave an inelegant snort but replaced her foot in his lap. “That’s what all the doctors say, right before they jab you a good one.”
“I won’t jab you,” he promised. He used the tweezers to probe the inflamed area of her foot. He could just see the sliver of glass, but it was deeper than he’d thought. He felt Jenna tense when he picked up the scalpel. A bead of sweat rolled down his back and he held his breath as he made a small cut in the skin. There, now he could see the glass more clearly and, using the tweezers, he pulled it out.
He let out his breath in a soundless sigh and held it up for her to see. “Got it.”
“Finally.” Relief underscored her tone, then she grudgingly added, “Thanks.”
He smoothed a hand across the silky softness of her foot, then realized the gesture might be mistaken for a caress and snatched his hand away. He pulled a small gauze bandage from the flight bag and put it over the slightly oozing wound. “You’re welcome.”
Awareness rose between them thicker than steam from a geyser. For a moment she stared at him, then the ringing phone broke the tension.
With reluctance, he reached for it. “Lifeline Medical Air Rescue, may I help you?”
“This is Barclay Park High School. I’d like to speak with Jenna Reed.”
Puzzled, Zach handed the phone over. “It’s for you.”
“Hello?” Jenna’s voice held a note of wariness.
Unabashed, he listened to her portion of the conversation as he went over to the sink and dampened a washcloth to wipe off her foot.
“She skipped school again?” Jenna rubbed a weary hand over her forehead as he washed off her foot, then patted it dry. “I know she has a bad case of senioritis, but she still has to graduate, right?” Another pause, then Jenna grimaced. “I understand. Thanks for letting me know.”
Zach couldn’t help his intense curiosity. Who’d skipped school? He wasn’t an expert at judging women’s ages, but no way was Jenna old enough to have a daughter who was a senior in high school. “Problems?”
“Nothing new.” Jenna avoided his gaze as she pulled on her sock then reached for her shoe.
“Sounds like you’re worried your sister isn’t going to graduate.” He couldn’t help probing her defensive barriers.
His remark had her gaze snapping back up to him. “How did you know about my sister?”
“An educated guess.” The relief at knowing the kid was her sister and not a daughter was ridiculous. It shouldn’t matter either way. “Hey, don’t worry so much. She’s almost an adult, it’s time for her to make her own decisions.”
“Ha! She’s hardly an adult, and you obviously know nothing at all about teenagers.”
He wasn’t fazed by her scowl. “I was a teenager once, just like you were. I say lighten up and let her make her own choices.”
“Rae is going to graduate and go to college.” Jenna’s eyes narrowed and her jaw thrust at a stubborn angle. He wondered who she was trying to convince. “End of discussion.”
The phone rang a second time. She was still tying up her boot so he picked up the phone. “Lifeline Medical Air Rescue.”
“The Green Bay request for a transport is official,” the dispatcher informed him. “You’re good to go.”
“Great.” He hung up the phone and glanced at Jenna. “The Green Bay trip has been approved.”
“All right. Does Reese know?” Jenna stood and smoothed a hand down her flight suit. “I heard him hauling the chopper out of the hangar a few minutes ago.”
“I think he wanted to be set to go, just in case.” Zach gestured toward the hangar.
Reese poked his head through the door. “Are you guys ready?”
“Yes.” Jenna brushed past Zach and he caught a whiff of her perfume. Not flowery, but something different. Musky. He tried to place the scent as he picked up the flight bag and followed her into the hangar. They grabbed their helmets, and he averted his gaze from her derrière as he climbed into the chopper behind her.
But even as he settled into the seat beside Jenna, her presence teased him, so close yet at the same time completely off limits. Zach shifted in his seat so he could get a better look at her, as if it could help him see into her mind. Her over-protective attitude toward her sister bothered him. She gave the impression of being too involved in controlling her sister’s life. He knew, far better than most, that trying to control other people’s lives was futile.
Then again, Jenna’s strange relationship with her sister was none of his business. He and Jenna were colleagues, nothing more.
Best to remember that.
* * *
“Base, we’re ready to go.” Jenna listened as Reese prepared for take-off. Soon they were airborne.
Zach’s presence, less than a foot away from her, made her nervous. A flight to Green Bay was pretty long to ignore him the whole time. What was she going to do? Work was the only thing she could think of to keep herself occupied, so she reached for the clipboard holding the flight record and flipped on her microphone.
“Did you receive a report on our patient?” Jenna asked as she began filling in the blanks for their required documentation.
Zach glanced at her, surprise mirrored in his eyes. “Are you talking to me?”
Who else would care about a medical report about a patient? The pilot? She kept her features carefully blank. “Yes, Dr. Taylor, I’m talking to you. I’d appreciate some information on our patient, if it’s not too much to ask.”
He reached over and tapped the microphone controls. “You turned on the master switch, everyone is listening.”
What? She glanced down at the microphone in her hand. Sure enough, she’d flipped the all-com switch, which meant her comments had been heard by everyone—the pilot, Base Control, and the dispatcher. Her fingers fumbled to flip off the master switch, wishing she could sink deep enough into her seat to disappear. “I can’t believe I just did that.”
“It’s all right, Jenna,” Reese reassured from up front. “No biggie.”
“But still.” Everyone had listened while she’d snapped at Zach. What was wrong with her? Once again, she’d acted like a complete idiot in front of him. “I should have realized.”
“I did get a brief report on our patient.” Zach must have sensed her discomfort. “But we’ll have to call for an update.”
She couldn’t answer but tried to nod, although her helmet suddenly felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. First she’d felt like a two-year-old when he’d cut the sliver of glass from her foot, now this. Could this day get any worse?
“Reese, will you ask the base to place a call to the hospital in Green Bay asking for an update on our patient’s condition?” Zach asked. “His name is Mark Bowan.”
“Sure,” Reese readily agreed.
Zach turned to Jenna. “I’ll fill you in on what I know. Mark Bowan is nineteen years old and suffering from acute pneumonia, possibly viral in nature. He’s been in the ICU for two days and as his condition has stabilized, the physicians requested a transfer to Trinity because they don’t feel qualified to take care of him due to the severe damage to his lungs.”
Jenna frowned, grateful for something else to think about other than how much she’d made a fool of herself. “Viral pneumonia? Is he immunosuppressed in some way? Had a transplant in the past or something?”
“Good question, you’ve nailed it.” Zach’s warm gaze shouldn’t have made her feel tingly all over, but it did. “He joined the military, got several immunizations, then went home on leave because his wife went into labor, at which time he got sick. Now he’s showing signs of severe sepsis.”
“Sounds serious.” She wanted to ask more questions, to know all the details about Mark’s case, but held back because her role as paramedic didn’t include taking a pre-med course taught by Dr. Zach Taylor.
No matter how much she wished it did.
His smile faded. “Yeah, unfortunately, the way he grew so sick so fast leans toward a high likelihood of mortality. Which is why they’ve requested the transfer, I’m sure.”
“I see.” Jenna preoccupied herself with filling in more blanks on the flight record. “I hope he’s stable enough to tolerate the trip.”
“Me, too.” He stifled a yawn. She wasn’t surprised his long night had caught up to him. The Lifeline crew normally worked twelve-hour shifts, which would make this additional four hours seem incredibly long. When he rested his head back against the seat and closed his eyes, the tension along the back of her neck eased.
With any luck, he’d sleep the rest of the flight so she wouldn’t have to deal with him. Or, worse, with the strange longing he made her feel.
* * *
“ETA two minutes.” Reese’s voice flowed through the headset.
A tiny thrill sent the blood in her veins humming. She loved flying. Not that being a paramedic wasn’t exciting in itself, but it was nothing compared to rendering medical care hundreds of feet in the air.
Zach straightened in his seat so quickly she wondered if he’d really fallen asleep or had used the excuse to avoid her, just like she was avoiding him. There wasn’t time to dwell on the possibility because Reese landed the chopper lightly on the helipad.
“We’re on,” Zach said, then unbuckled his seat belt and disconnected his helmet from the internal communication system.
Jenna slung the flight bag over her shoulder and followed him out of the chopper. Once her feet had landed firmly on the helipad, she rounded the back to pull the gurney out.
The roar of the blades made talking impossible, so Jenna simply followed Zach inside the hospital. She’d never been to this particular hospital before, but Zach seemed to know his way around and as soon as they crossed the threshold he went straight for the elevator and punched the “down” button.
He slid off his helmet, so she followed suit. Her hair was pulled back into a long braid, but a few strands had escaped and she brushed at them with an impatient flick of her fingers.
“The ICU is on the third floor.” Zach’s gaze seemed glued to her hair. She resisted the urge to glance into the mirror to make sure there weren’t pieces sticking out all over.
As if Zach cared what she looked like.
She didn’t comment, and within minutes the reached their destination.
The doors of the ICU opened and Zach strode through as if he belonged there. As a paramedic, Jenna spent most of her time in the ED and rarely entered the ICU. The alarms from the ventilators and monitors intimidated her.
“Mark Bowan?” Zach asked, as a nurse waved them over.
“Yes. This is Mark.” Jenna felt invisible, the way the nurse had eyes only for Zach. “I’ll help get him ready for transport.”
“Any change in his condition?” Zach asked, taking the paperwork and scanning the latest lab results. “I hear his wife delivered a baby yesterday.”
“Yes, a beautiful baby boy named Bryant. Both Mom and baby are doing okay.”
“Has the patient received antibiotics lately?”
“Yes, within the hour.” The nurse leaned close, pointing to the documentation in the record. “The next dose isn’t due for another three hours.”
While they discussed the medical care, Jenna disconnected the patient from the ICU equipment and attached him to the portable monitor from the flight bag. She knew from Zach’s report that Mark was only nineteen, but the youthful face startled her anyway. This young kid was the father of a baby boy. He could have been Nelson, Rae’s boyfriend, lying there, so pale, still and sick.
“His blood gases have been marginal, we have him on some pretty high vent settings,” the nurse said. “We just increased his level of pressure support.”
Zach nodded and stashed the paperwork under the mattress of the gurney. “We can provide the same settings on our portable vent.” He turned the dials on the ventilator, then glanced at Jenna. “Ready for the switch.”
“Hand it over.” She disconnected the tubing from the hospital ventilator and made the change using the portable ventilator tubing. The monitor continued to show a pulse-oxygen reading of 92 percent. “All set.”
“Good. Let’s move him.” Between the three of them, they slid the patient over to the gurney. Jenna made quick work of buckling the straps around their patient.
Zach took a minute to look everything over one last time, before giving Jenna the nod to move out. She could feel the nurse staring at them, but to her surprise Zach didn’t so much as glance back or betray any interest in the nurse whatsoever. He fell into step on the other side of the gurney, helping her wheel the patient toward the elevator while keeping the monitor in his line of vision.
Once inside, they both pulled on their helmets at the same time. Jenna watched the monitor, too, noting that Mark’s pulse-oxygen had dropped to 91 percent.
Reese waited for them in the helicopter. They approached from the front, waiting for his signal before heading around to the back. Within moments they had Mark tucked inside. Jenna jumped in through the back, leaving Zach to close the hatch behind her.
“Ready?” Reese asked, once they’d connected the communication system.
Jenna double-checked to make sure the main switch of her microphone wasn’t on before answering. “I’m good to go.”
“Me, too,” Zach added.
Jenna barely noticed the lift-off because a blinking light on the monitor caught her eye. Now the reading was 90 percent. She bit her lip and tested the various ventilator tubing connections to make sure there wasn’t a leak anywhere.
“Something wrong?” Zach asked.
“Yeah, maybe. His pulse-ox is dropping.” Jenna knew a reading of 90 percent was still acceptable, but sensed something was wrong. “I’m going to suction him.”
“All right.”
She tried to ignore Zach’s intense gaze as he watched her perform the task. No doubt he was waiting for her to contaminate the sterile catheter. She had to bite down on her lip hard to stop from being her normal klutzy self around him and doing just that.
“I’m not getting a lot of secretions,” Jenna observed when she’d completed the task. “Guess that’s not the problem.”
When the pulse-oxygen reading dropped to 88 percent, the numbers on the screen flashed in warning. Jenna leaned closer to get a better look at the breathing tube. She tested the balloon on the cuff and it seemed fine, but then she looked at the markings on the tube. “Zach? What if the tube is out too far? The marking is twenty-three at the lip, which seems wrong. Especially for someone his size.”
“You could be right. Hand me a 10 cc syringe.”
She gave it to him then peeled back the tape on Mark’s face holding the tube in place.
“Look out!”
Mark coughed and Jenna grabbed for the tube but a millisecond too late. Despite her effort, the breathing tube flew out of Mark’s throat, landing on his chest.
“Quick, get me another size seven endotracheal tube.” Zach’s voice rose in alarm. “I need to reintubate or we’re gonna lose him.”