Straightening his shoulders, he knelt and examined Addy’s knee.
“Pipsqueak, I need you to hold still.” He kept his voice gentle.
Blair began to whisper soft words to her daughter. Oz couldn’t make them out, couldn’t tell what she was saying, but her voice sounded musical, calming, even to him.
Addy remained perfectly still in her whispering mother’s arms. Blair maneuvered her daughter to face Oz, then wrapped her arms around her, pinning Addy’s arms in a hug. With her thighs, she captured Addy’s injured leg to where the girl could squirm but not make any big movements. Soothing with her soft words during the entire maneuver, Blair had effectively stilled her daughter without alarming her.
“Pipsqueak, love, I’m going to look at your knee. I’ll be as gentle as I can.”
Tossing the towel onto the tiled floor beneath Addy’s knee, he poured antiseptic over the wound, dabbing at the excess to keep as much as possible from spilling onto the towel. He poured more disinfectant over some gauze he’d found in the medicine cabinet. As gently as possible, he cleaned Addy’s wound, wincing at the jagged tear.
“She needs stitches,” Dr Talbot said from behind him. “I have suture supplies in my doctor’s bag. It’s in my office. Go get my bag, and I’ll sew her up.”
Pressing the antiseptic-soaked gauze to Addy’s leg, then covering it with a piece of paper tape to maintain pressure, Oz went and found the old-fashioned black medicine bag.
When he came back, he glanced toward Dr T’s drooping shoulders. Sadly, the effort of standing without assistance had drained the man’s energy.
“If it’s all the same, I’ll suture her.” Waiting for Dr T’s nod, Oz drew up some Lidocaine and prepared to squirt the numbing agent into the gash. “She’s not allergic to anything?”
“No.” Blair shook her head.
“Not a shot.” Addy’s eyes filled with tears again when she saw what Oz held. She squirmed to no avail in Blair’s arms. “I don’t want a shot.”
This was his fault. If he’d been watching her closer, none of this would have happened. If he’d called the dog away from her sooner, before he’d leaped…
“This will make your knee stop hurting.” Blair hugged Addy tightly.
Oz squirted the numbing preparation into the open wound. Then, injecting through the desensitized gash itself, he deadened the area so Addy wouldn’t feel him suture her.
While waiting for the area to deaden, he prepared the needle-nosed suture holders and ethilon thread.
His gaze met Blair’s, seeking reassurance that she was ready. She nodded for him to proceed.
With Addy studying his every move and Dr Talbot giving advice over his shoulder the entire time, Oz stitched Addy’s knee, closing her gaping flesh.
“Beautiful,” Dr Talbot praised from where he’d watched Oz make every suture.
“Thank you,” Blair said, hugging Addy close, kissing the top of the little girl’s head every few seconds and whispering comforting words.
“That’s not beautiful.” Addy’s puffy eyes stared woefully at her knee. “Mommy’s hair is beautiful. Not my boo-boo.”
“No, Boo-boo is in trouble for doing this to you,” Dr Talbot said gruffly.
“Boo-boo didn’t hurt me. A rock did.”
Oz would do anything if he could take away the pain in Addy’s eyes. Tears streaked her cherub face. Although her cut was still numb from the anesthetic, when the sensation returned, she would be sore. Guilt like none he’d ever known blindsided him.
Blair would never forgive him for allowing Addy to get hurt.
He couldn’t blame her.
Words his mother had used to scream at his father echoed through Oz’s head. Words that said Manning men shouldn’t be allowed to father children, shouldn’t be allowed to be responsible for another person’s heart because all they were good for was cheating and lying.
Like father, like son.
Oz steeled himself for the pressure in his chest that always followed those memories and wasn’t disappointed in anything other than his own shortcomings.
The following day, while keeping a watchful eye on the monitoring devices, Blair studied Oz. He manipulated the catheter through their patient’s ascending aorta and into his heart.