Indivisible Line (5 page)

Her heart began to race.
What is wrong with me?
Shaking off another wave of nausea, Sarah closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing. Her knees weakened underneath her, but she kept on inhaling and exhaling. A few more minutes and it would be over.

In her short life, Sarah hadn’t met a man who evoked the well–documented “butterflies-in-the-stomach” phenomenon. Now here she was, staring at a complete stranger with her heart banging against her chest in a frenzy. This man was just too perfect, too beautiful almost. She was even gladder she’d managed to keep him alive. He’d make a woman happy someday, if he hadn’t already. Instinct made her eyes travel to the man’s ring finger, and her heart skipped when she found it bare.

“Tell your father that. You know you’re going to be in big trouble.”
 

Lily’s warning startled her.

“I’ll cross that bridge once I get to it,” Sarah replied, hoping Lily had missed her ogling their patient.

Sarah glanced down at her arm. She’d given him more than enough, and anything more could be hazardous for her. Already feeling lightheaded, she slipped the needle out of her skin, and blood started trickling out. “After it drains, remove the needle.”

Lily nodded, watching while the remaining blood disappeared into the man’s arm.
 

Her legs feeling shaky, Sarah stepped down, gripping the chair’s arm to steady herself when the room began to spin around her.

“Are you okay?” Lily shot her a worried frown.

“Yeah.” She closed her eyes.

After a minute, her equilibrium settled, and Sarah walked to the hazard bin to deposit the bag, tube, and needle before moving toward their supplies cabinet. She took one alcohol swab and dabbed at the blood from her arm before securing a bandage on the open site. The room swirled. It was most likely the fatigue setting in. Suppressing the urge to empty her stomach, Sarah hurried to the sink and braced her hands on the edge.

Footsteps sounded behind her when Lily approached, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You did the right thing.”

Stifling the tears pooling in her eyes, Sarah blinked several times before turning to face her friend. “I hope so, but why do I get the feeling that my action is going to cost me something much more important?”

Lily searched Sarah’s face, her expression softening. “You’re not regretting your decision, are you?”

“Not one bit.” Sarah shook her head. Her conviction remained solid, but events had caught up with her at last. She stumbled forward, and Lily caught her arm, pulling her into an embrace.

“What now?” Lily whispered.

“I don’t know. I guess time will tell.” Tears began to spill, and she was powerless to fight them. She held Lily in a fierce grip. Too many protocols had been broken, and she’d crossed the ethics line, which no doubt would anger her father. Her body shuddered as the reality of her situation hit her hard. Lily embraced her with tenderness, rubbing her back in soothing circles.

They stood there for a long time. The only sound audible was Sarah’s sobbing and the steady beep of the EKG monitor. After another minute ticked by, Lily took one step back to scrutinize her friend’s face.

“Hey, I don’t mean to burst your bubble, but I believe you’re promised to the man I love. So why don’t you feast your eyes now?” She gestured to the stranger.

“What do you mean?” Sarah wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and turned, her gaze wandering in the direction of the examination table.

“Give that good-looking man one last look, because you’ll be Mrs. Meda very, very soon.”

The sadness in Lily’s voice shattered Sarah to pieces. She knew how much Lily and Trimble loved each other, but the cruel fact remained. She and Trimble would be tying the knot soon. They were expected to continue the long bloodline of their ancestors and would be held accountable for ensuring the survival of that legacy. Though their hearts abhorred the idea, their sense of responsibility superseded their own desires.

Sarah asked, “Why do I need to look at him?” Her eyes traveled again to the man’s face, questioning her attraction. She noted his even breathing, but his pained expression still lingered. Unable to turn away, she wondered what color his eyes were. She had met many boys at the university, good-looking ones, yet this man took the prize. He was stunning and oozing male vitality, even in his deplorable state. The bare chest peeking out from the thin white sheet made her want to run her hand over it to feel his body. Sarah shook her head and tried to dispel the overwhelming sensation coursing through her.

The two women heard voices outside of the clinic, and then Trimble, Mark, and Mr. V entered the room with a raggedy stretcher.

“Is he ready?” Trimble asked, shooting a quick glance in Lily’s direction.

“He’s all yours,” Sarah said, getting the IV from the pole and handing it to Lily. She heard a weak moan and saw the man shiver. After retrieving a thicker blanket, she wrapped it around his body.

“I did what I could. I’m rooting for you, and I’m going to pray that you make it,” she whispered, rubbing his arm in the process. It felt good to tell him how she felt, even if her words meant nothing to the unconscious man.

While Trimble and the others worked fast to transfer the patient onto the gurney, Sarah couldn’t help the feeling of sadness that swept over her. She had no idea if she’d helped or made things worse for him.

In a matter of minutes, she heard the roar of the car engine speeding away. She sighed and turned to Lily. “Why don’t you get out of here?” Sarah walked over to the desk and collapsed on the chair, her tired muscles screaming in protest.

“Okay.” Lily grabbed her purse and produced an apple. “Eat,” she ordered.

Sarah took the fruit and wiped it on her coat before taking a bite. “Get some sleep, and come back in the morning.” She pointed to the door by way of dismissal.

“Do you think he’ll make it?” Lily looked at her with eyes that mirrored her own uncertainties.

“He survived the operation. That’s all I can tell you. We’ll have to see if his condition improves.” Sarah glanced at the now-empty table. Her heart started pounding against her chest again.
I will pray for him.

“Okay, I’ll see you in the morning. Do you need anything before I leave?”

“No, I’ll be okay. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. You know what? I was happy to help.” Lily smiled and turned to the door. “I’ll be back in the morning. Try to get some sleep.”

When the doors had slid shut, Sarah leaned back in the stiff chair and closed her eyes, collecting herself for a moment. It had been a long evening. She made a mental note to stop asking Dotson’Sa for action. After tonight, she’d rather deal with common colds and flu any day.

She put the apple down on the desk, not feeling hungry despite her empty stomach. While the remnants of the receding adrenaline drained out, she stretched her legs under the desk and stretched her arms upward. It felt great, her tense muscles relaxing after hours of intense rush. She knew she was too tired to walk home. She’d sleep here and clean up in the morning. Sleep sounded very good now that her body had slowed down into a pleasant, dull rhythm. Massaging her scalp, she could feel lethargy begin to seep in, and she embraced the short reprieve she needed after the tense evening.

It was two in the morning when she woke. Even with the little nap, she still felt drained and exhausted. She made herself get up to turn off the lights.

Her back was screaming at her. Staggering back to the desk, she sat down with a weary sigh. Notes. She still had to write them, so sleep had to wait. She turned on the desk lamp and pulled one of the drawers open, took a paper, and began documenting the events of the evening: each procedure she’d performed, the dosages of Demerol given, and the vital sign readings that led to the spontaneous blood transfusion.

Once she’d finished, Sarah reviewed what she wrote. This record would have to be reviewed by Dr. Ancheta once she found someone to take it to him in Fairbanks in the morning. Man, that part made her cringe. It wouldn’t go well if they found out she wasn’t a licensed physician. But what could they do, revoke a license she didn’t even have yet?

A bubble of hysteria rose up her throat, making it impossible to swallow. With the quiet surrounding her, the full weight of her actions descended on her, making Sarah second-guess her decision to save the man’s life. Could this one incident destroy her chance to become a full-fledged doctor? Had her dreams ended tonight?

Sarah glanced at the empty, still-bloodied table a few feet away, and she hoped he was worth the effort.

Since everything had happened in one quick blur, going over the entire incident made her head ache. Reading and re-reading what she wrote was another thing. Her eyes fluttered closed several times and began to water when she strained harder to keep them open. At long last, she paused to take a short break, resting her head on her arm, but exhaustion won. She soon fell asleep, her notes sitting under her nose, and her long, black hair splayed all over the table.
 

The mind had a cunning way of alerting the rest of the body when it was in the midst of trouble, either through pain or other sensations, like throbbing, burning and soreness. Such was the case for Greg as soon as he surfaced from his blackened haze. He realized at once that he was in deep shit when he tried to move his body and everything felt somehow disconnected. A series of sharp, stabbing twinges radiated through his body before converging on the lower part of his abdomen. It felt like someone had left firecrackers inside his stomach and lit them all at the same time.

It was burning, exploding, hot and unimaginably painful.

He tried opening his eyes, but their sheer weight made it difficult. Moaning, he reached around for something to help push himself up, but the pain shot through him again and he’d have doubled over if he hadn’t been lying down.

That smell . . . what was it?
The scent of metal came to mind, just before another searing ache emanated from his gut, burning until he stopped every attempt to move. Greg took shallow breaths to control the intense ache inside him. The more shallow his breathing, the less throbbing he had to endure. He tried lifting his heavy lids again, but his eyeballs just strained hard against the barrier and rolled up instead.

What in the world was wrong with him? Greg opened his mouth to speak, but the dryness in his throat made it impossible to get a word out. His throat was a scorching burn, as if someone sandpapered his mouth and left it to dry in the sun. A faint, raspy moan escaped his lips.

Although he’d been trying to regulate his breathing, he could do nothing to prevent the shaking of his body, which intensified the spasms. His body was vibrating from the cold shiver he was experiencing. Again, he was helpless to do anything but moan.

A rustling sound came from his left, and soft footsteps approached. Then a soothing, warm hand touched his forehead. An unfamiliar voice filled with gentleness spoke to him.

“I did what I could. I’m rooting for you,” the voice assured him before a warm hand caressed his sensitive skin, bringing him warmth. Minutes later, darkness prevailed once again.

Chapter 4

Greg managed to pry his tired eyes open after several attempts. The pain had been terribly real, and he couldn’t get anything but moans out of his mouth when he tried to speak. The room was dim, but there was adequate light filtering through the gaps of the blinds. He looked around in confused haze.

Where was he? The stark white walls held no frames, no pictures—nothing to give away his location. Greg’s eyes swept around the place, and he noted the modern equipment next to his bed. There was also a constant beeping from another machine that he couldn’t see. After several attempts, he was able to raise his hand, but even that simple action drained him of energy. His confusion grew when he noticed a tube attached to his arm and the stale scent of blood wafting around him.

Then he remembered.