Not a single man had been left behind, and for that Zeke gave silent thanks. When one of the crewmen had got caught up in a rope as the ship had begun to sink, and all the containers had shifted, both crews had thought he was dead.
If two of his lifeboat crew hadn’t taken their lives in their hands and taken out the inflatable lifeboat, he certainly would have drowned.
Even launching the inflatable in those conditions had been hair-raising. But now they were facing a new problem—their main casualty needed emergency medical attention that went way beyond the ability of any of his crew.
‘Contact the station, see if they can patch us through to emergency services,’ he yelled, his eyes not leaving the churning water, still fighting to cut through the heavy swell and get them home safely. ‘Maybe they can advise something we can do to help him.’
He focussed back on his own task of piloting the boat; the last thing he expected was to hear his men say that Tia was at Westlake. Fear and something else he couldn’t name bit cruelly into him. Like the tentacles of jellyfish hooking into him, locking him in place, stinging painfully every moment. More than they had any right to do.
r /> Why the hell wasn’t she back home? Safe with their son?
And then the pain began to recede as a thought slid, unbidden, into his brain. Had she stayed for him?
If so, was it because she cared? Or because she wanted to finally explain herself?
It shouldn’t matter to him either way, and yet something crested inside him, like one of the dark, towering waves out there.
* * *
Tia listened as the young first aider relayed how the patient had become caught up in some kind of winch rope during the rescue, which had whipped him around causing him to sustain severe chest and arm injuries.
The lad detailed fractured ribs, bleeding and severe lacerations, which they appeared to be stemming. But it was the tachycardia, breathing issues, hypotension and hypoxia that concerned her most.
‘I think you’re looking at tension pneumothorax. You’re going to need to perform a needle decompression, and you’re going to need to act fast.’
‘I can’t.’ The voice held a tinge of panic. ‘I don’t know how to do that.’
‘I understand,’ Tia soothed, her mind racing over the equipment he might have available to him on the lifeboat. ‘But if you don’t then he’s going to go into cardiac arrest. So I’m going to talk you through it. You’re going to be fine. Okay, so first you’ll need something that will reach fully into the thoracic cavity. I would suggest a ten-gauge catheter—it’s stiff and it will be long enough.’
She waited whilst he shouted out to his colleagues, the noise on the line only giving her the briefest hint at what it must be like for them on the boat, still slamming through the stormy sea.
‘I have it.’
‘Good, so now you’re going to go back to your patient—he’s on the floor, right? Okay, clean the area with whatever sterilising solution you have in your kit and then you need to locate the second intercostal space on the same side as the tension pneumo. So find the clavicle and then move down and that will be the second rib. The soft space below it is your second intercostal. Got it?’
She spoke calmly and slowly, trying to keep the kid as confident as possible. It wasn’t ideal, but they were hours out to sea. Without the procedure, there was no way the injured man was going to make it back to shore alive.
‘Now, you need the mid-clavicular line. Okay? Good lad. Right, I’m going to talk you through it, but, just so you’re prepared, you’re going to go in perpendicular to the chest wall, and make sure you push in deep enough before you pull the catheter off the needle. You’ll know you’ve succeeded if you get a rush of air. And there’s often also a degree of spray as well so just make sure you’ve got protective gear on.’
Tia heard the crackle on the line, and then he told her to proceed, her whole body tensed up on the kid’s behalf. Clearly, brightly, she began, only able to imagine what was going on at the other end of the connection.
It felt like an eternity. And she heard his exclamation of relief at the rush of air. Not long after, the signs of hypotension and shock she had diagnosed began to be alleviated.
She sagged back onto her chair. All that was left now was for them to get back to Westlake.
And for Zeke to come back safely.
CHAPTER SIX
‘WHAT THE HELL is wrong with you? You could have been seriously injured. Killed.’
‘This is why you never left Westlake last night, even though I sent you home?’ Zeke kept his voice remarkably calm and even, knowing it would only irk her all the more. ‘So you could stay here to berate me?’
But the truth was, he wasn’t just keeping calm for Tia. It was the only way to keep at bay the storm of emotions churning inside himself right at that moment. It was why he didn’t even bother to turn around as she slammed her car door and stalked up the drive behind him, her heeled boots crunching hastily on the gravel.
He was only slightly galled to realise that, after all that had been said between them less than six hours ago, he still wanted her. He had to fight the urge to stride up to her and haul her body to his. To remind himself that he was alive. That he’d made it back to land safely.
There had been moments out there, during that shout, when he’d found it impossible to shut out the niggling doubt that—this time—his crew might not make it home. He knew that over the years there had been several times when members of his crew had been concerned. Worried. But he’d never been one of them. He’d believed in fate.