Surprise Twins for the Surgeon

‘Ten minutes. Stay back here.’

‘And if you find someone in need of medical attention?’

‘We’ll bring them out here and you can help me.’

‘We?’ That was when she realised two other men were pushing ahead on the same track Kristof was following. ‘Fine.’ She was wasting precious time, holding him back from possibly saving someone. ‘Go.’ Her heart sank. If there really was a family in that inferno their chances of survival were slim, and getting smaller by the second. When she was training back in Christchurch she’d worked in a burns unit and had hated it. The stench, the raw agony, the horror in her patients’ eyes as they stared at their scars, had drained her emotionally in a way no other field of nursing had.

Around her people were talking as they gaped at the scene. Unfortunately she couldn’t understand a word. Someone pointed towards the house and there was a shout as a burning piece from the roof plunged to the ground. Kristof towered above everyone, making it easy to keep an eye on his progress.

Be safe, please.

He was in charge. No doubt about that. He seemed the kind of guy who’d take note of the situation and still charge in to save whoever he could with little regard for his own safety. Not that she could explain why she felt that, she just did. He’d impressed her with the way he’d looked after her earlier. No one had ever gone out of their way for her before, and it made her feel special, as if she counted for something. Then she’d repaid him by coming on to him. It was a wonder he’d spoken to her at all after that.

‘Does anyone know if the family was definitely at home when the fire broke out?’ she asked without thinking, and got a surprise.

‘The mother and son came home thirty minutes ago,’ the woman beside her answered. ‘The husband and other son are still out.’

‘Two safe. That’s a start.’ Where had Kristof gone? There was no way he could get inside. Not and survive. It was a furnace in there.

‘I hear sirens,’ said the woman.

There was movement ahead, and the crowd parted. Kristof strode towards her, a body in his arms. ‘Alesha? I’ve got the lad. He’s unconscious.’ Kneeling down, he laid his precious bundle on the ground.

Running forward, she dropped to her knees, ignored the gravel digging into the earlier bruises. ‘That’s a nasty cut on his head.’ Blood oozed through the lad’s hair. Her fingers gently probed, touched swollen flesh. ‘Something must’ve fallen on him. Where did you find him? You’d better not have gone inside.’ What did that matter now? If he had he was out safe.

‘On the back porch lying half out the door.’ Kristof began checking the boy over, gently rolling him onto his right side. ‘Burns to his back and left arm.’

‘Don’t pull that shirt off,’ she warned. They didn’t need to cause any further damage.

‘Agreed.’ Kristof was feeling the bones in an oddly shaped elbow, a competent doctor at work. ‘Fractures for sure. He’s got cuts as well as massive trauma bruising. Someone mentioned an explosion.’

‘Do people here use gas for cooking?’ That could explain the injuries and the fire.

‘Yes.’ He gave her a nod of acknowledgment. ‘You know your stuff.’

‘Worked in a burns unit. He has respiratory problems, probably due to smoke inhalation.’

‘I’ll check his heart.’

Cardiac arrest often followed respiratory failure. ‘Will an ambulance come with that fire engine?’ A defibrillator wouldn’t go astray right now, just in case of the worst-case scenario.

‘Of course. From what I’m hearing two fire trucks and one ambulance have just pulled up. The good news is the hospital is only a mile further up the road.’

‘Knowing the lingo is a plus.’ Never had she felt so useless. Not understanding what was going on was disturbing. But she did understand this boy’s dilemma and that was all that really mattered. He needed her help, not her doubts and frustration.

‘Great nursing skills don’t need interpreting.’ Kristof underscored her thoughts as his hand touched the back of hers briefly. Except she hadn’t thought great was true, just thorough.

Someone in uniform knelt beside her, asking rapid questions in Croatian. No doubt a paramedic. She locked eyes on Kristof. ‘You take this.’

He was already talking to the other man. She continued taking the boy’s pulse for a second time. ‘Slower.’

Another person in ambulance uniform joined them and Alesha was nudged aside. Her back cricked as she stood up and looked around. ‘What about the mother?’

Screams rent the air. Someone was pushing through the crowd. A woman. In her late thirties? The boy’s mother? Alesha crossed her fingers. That would mean she was safe and not inside. The woman dropped to the ground beside the boy, crying and shouting, reaching to touch her son, being gently held back by Kristof and another lady.

Alesha stepped away. The woman’s grief was personal, and heart-wrenching. On the other side of the road she stopped amidst the crowd to take stock. Around her voices were low and all eyes seemed to be on the mother and boy. Time to head back to the apartment. There was nothing else she could do to help here.

‘He’s going to be in hospital for a while but I think he’ll be all right.’ Kristof materialised out of the gloom. ‘None of those injuries look life-threatening.’

‘If you don’t count the scars he’ll have.’

‘True.’ His sigh echoed her own. ‘I’ll see you back to the apartment.’

‘That’s not necessary. It’s only a few hundred metres down the road.’

‘I don’t care if it’s next door. I’m coming with you.’

Nice. Especially when she’d all but thrown herself at him. ‘Thanks.’ Maybe this time she’d finally get to bed to catch up on some sleep. Alone, and right now that didn’t seem as lonely as it should. It was a normal state.

* * *

A sound like a sweeping broom from outside her room penetrated Alesha’s mind, bringing her to the surface of the sleep that had dragged her under the moment she’d dropped onto the bed after getting back from the fire. Judging by the smell of smoke, she should’ve showered but falling asleep under the water jet wouldn’t have been a bright idea. Her shirt was rucked up to her breasts but it seemed she had managed to pull her jeans off.

The good news was she’d slept all night. Picking up her phone from the floor, she gasped. It was nearly one in the afternoon. Half the day had gone. What a waste when Dubrovnik was out there, waiting to be investigated.

Swinging her legs over the bed, she sat up and instantly dropped her pounding head into her hands. Too much sleep did that. And too many glasses of champagne on an empty stomach. The half-full bottle mocked her from the bench. Another waste, but thank goodness she hadn’t drunk it all or she wouldn’t have been able to help with that boy last night. Nor would she be feeli

ng semi good to go today. What had she been thinking to have beer and champagne? It was so not her, but nothing about last night had been. On the other hand, last time she got dumped she might have packed a sad and had a few drinks, but she hadn’t locked herself out in a foreign country or made a pass at a relative stranger. Throw in the fire and it’d been a drama-filled night.

How was that boy today? Hopefully he’d be heavily sedated to allow those burns time to settle down. Days, if not weeks, of painkillers and heavy doses of antibiotics were ahead for him.

Picking up her jeans, she grimaced at the not so white fabric. Dirt from kneeling on the ground by the boy looked as if it would never come out, but she’d throw them in the laundry in case she got lucky.

Heading for the shower, she tripped over a bag. Kristof’s clothes. He’d forgotten them in his hurry to get away from her. Now what? Could she nail them to the wall outside the gate for when he walked home tonight?

Swish, swish. The sound that had woken her. Opening the wooden blinds showed Karolina sweeping the deck that covered the width of the property and right back to the table where she’d eaten squid with Kristof. Karolina would know where to find the children’s home. It wouldn’t be a problem to drop the bag off there on her way to the Old City. She also owed Kristof an apology for her untoward behaviour while they were eating. What had possessed her? Apart from feeling unloved and a teeny bit in awe of him?

With a towel wrapped around her waist, she snatched up her keys and headed outside. ‘Karolina, hi.’

The woman turned, her long, thick ponytail flicking across her back. ‘I hear we have you to thank for young Stevan surviving the blaze that destroyed his family’s home. You and Kristof.’

‘There were other people there more qualified to look after him. How is Stevan today?’ Knowing his name brought him closer.

‘He’s in—how do you say—Intensive Care?’

Alesha nodded. ‘That’s it.’

‘Heavily sedated?’