Beth Cornelison – Colton's Ranch Refuge (страница 7)

This man was younger, strong, capable. Caleb Troyer?

“Hold on, Violet. I have you,” he said in English, his voice compassionate and soothing. “We will get you to the doctor.”

She tried to speak, had to tell them … what?

“Where’s Mary?” one of the young voices asked. Mary …

Violet’s mouth was dry, and her tongue felt swollen to twice its normal size. She tried to speak, tried to tell them. “Took … her …”

“Easy, ma’am. You are going to be all right. Dr. Colton is a good doctor. The best.”

“Mary,” she rasped, curling her fingers in the front of Caleb’s shirt. “Took Mary …”

Caleb stilled, met her gaze with piercing gray eyes. “What?”

“They … took Mary …”

Pain filled Caleb’s face, and his jaw tightened. She felt the tremor that shook him.

He set Violet down in another buggy and shouted something in Pennsylvania Dutch to the other man. As Caleb Troyer cracked a whip at his horses, sending the buggy forward with a lurch, he added, “And find Emma Colton. Tell her to meet me at her brother’s office!”

Peering over the top of the résumé he held, Derek Colton studied the attractive blonde sitting across his office. “Your credentials are impressive, Ms. Phillips, but I don’t see any references here.”

Amelia Phillips’s fingers tightened slightly on the arms of her chair. “Well, no. I didn’t list any because—”

The door to Derek’s office flew open. “Dr. Colton, come quickly!” his receptionist blurted without preamble. “We have an emergency.”

Derek frowned as he lurched to his feet. “What is it?”

“An Amish woman. Caleb Troyer brought her in. She’s bleeding badly and unresponsive.” His receptionist jumped out of his way as he rushed to his office door.

His gaze flicked briefly to Amelia Phillips. “I’m sorry. We’ll have to finish later.”

Amelia nodded, her hazel eyes wide with concern. “Can I be of help?”

Derek hesitated, giving her a quick assessing glance. “I … yeah. Scrub in. Nancy will show you where everything is, then meet me in exam room two.”

He turned without waiting for a response and hustled to the sink to wash his own hands and don a pair of latex gloves.

Caleb Troyer stood in the waiting room with a petite woman limp in his arms.

“Bring her back here, Caleb!” Derek shouted, motioning to the exam room where a vast array of top-notch medical equipment waited. When Derek had opened his practice in Eden Falls, Gunnar had quietly funded the purchase of state of the art facilities, setting Derek up to provide most any treatments or tests his patients needed.

Caleb hurried into the exam room and laid the woman gently on the exam table. “I don’t know her name. Isaac Lapp found her on the road and brought her to my house. Her leg has a deep cut, and her head has a large bump. Bruises and scrapes …”

Derek stepped closer to begin his examination, and his breath froze in his chest when he saw the woman’s pale face. “This is Violet Chastain, the actress! I just met her yesterday. Why would—”

Caleb caught Derek’s arm in a firm grip, stopping him. “We need to get Emma here. The woman was still conscious when she arrived at my house. She said someone kidnapped Mary Yoder. I think the men who took my sister have Mary now, too.”

Derek’s pulse kicked, and he muttered a curse word under his breath as he began peeling the homemade bandage off Violet’s leg. “Have my receptionist call Emma and Tate. You can wait out front for them, tell them what you know.” He jerked a nod toward his patient. “Thank you for bringing her in.”

As Caleb left, a scrubs-clad figure bustled in drying her hands on a sterile cloth. Derek arched an eyebrow. “That was quick.”

“You have to be quick when lives are at stake, right?” Amelia peered past him to the exam table and snapped on a pair of gloves. Immediately, she clipped a pulse ox monitor on Violet’s finger, then grabbed the blood pressure cuff from the countertop. “Heart rate 60. BP is 80 over 65. Oxygen 90 percent. Starting 2L oxygen now.” She retrieved the oxygen tank and non-rebreather mask from the corner of the room and settled the mask over Violet’s mouth and nose.

Derek cut Violet’s skirt off her so he could work better, then opened his mouth to ask Amelia for a thigh cuff, only to find her turning from the cabinets with one in her hand. Amelia met his gaze. “Where do you keep your IV kits?”

He jerked his head toward the cabinet across the room. “Top shelf, left side. How are her pupils?”

“Even and responsive to light. Her skin is cool and clammy.”

While Derek applied the thigh cuff, Amelia started a saline IV, finished undressing their patient, draped her with a sterile sheet and assessed Violet’s other wounds.

Satisfied that Amelia knew what she was doing, Derek finished unwrapping the pressure bandage Caleb had tied around Violet’s leg and frowned at the deep gash. “Looks like she was stabbed. There’s separation through several layers of muscle and—”

Amelia dabbed the wound with a piece of sterile gauze, absorbing some of the pooling blood so that Derek could better examine the severity of the injury, then flushed the wound with saline. He flicked a startled glance to her as she ripped open a suture tray before continuing. “Thanks.” He carefully probed the wound with a long swab. “The femoral artery appears to be intact, thank God, but several smaller veins will need ligation. What did you find?”

“Abrasions and contusions to her head and face but nothing critical.”

“Okay, push fentanyl and midazolam. Let’s get her sewn up.”

For the next hour, Derek labored over Violet’s laceration, ligating the torn blood vessels and suturing the layers of muscle and skin. While he worked, Amelia monitored the actress’s vitals and cleaned the less serious scrapes and bumps. With gently probing fingers, she felt Violet’s scalp and searched her hair for other wounds. “In addition to the bump on her forehead, she’s got a rather large knot just over her right ear. External swelling. Do you want to send her to the hospital for a CT scan?”

“No need. I have a machine here. I’ll have my tech do a scan when I’m finished with her.” With the crisis past, Derek paused and watched Amelia work for a few seconds, remembering how she’d anticipated his every need, known and executed protocol without his directives, and ably and efficiently assisted him on every aspect of Violet’s treatment. “I appreciate your jumping in the mix and helping out. You were a model of professionalism and composure under pressure.”

Amelia cut a quick awkward glance toward him as she wiped disinfectant on Violet’s scraped cheek. “I’m glad I could help.”

Derek bent his head over his suturing, pulling closed another small stitch. “You did more than help. Your nursing skills may have made the difference in saving Violet Chastain’s life.”

Amelia’s head snapped up. “Violet Chastain?”

Derek pulled a grin. “The one and only … our patient.”

Amelia’s hazel eyes widened as she studied her patient’s face. “Holy cow, it is! I thought she was Amish … I mean, the dress and …”

Derek chuckled. “Violet’s here filming a movie. She plays an Amish woman, which explains her clothing.” He frowned as he snipped the surgical thread he’d just tied off. “Someone should call her director, let him know about Violet. I have his number in my desk.”

Amelia nodded and chewed her lip. “If her laceration is a knife wound as you suspect …”

When she let her sentence trail off, Derek eyed her, puzzled by her obvious uneasiness. “The police are already on their way, if that’s what you’re asking. We have reason to suspect a girl Violet was with when she was attacked was kidnapped.”

Amelia’s eyes widened. “Oh, no! How horrible!”

“Exactly.” He lowered his gaze to Violet’s wound and began applying an antibiotic ointment and pressure dressing. “She’ll need a tetanus booster before she leaves, but you can wake her up. I’m finished.”

Derek removed his latex gloves and headed to the sink to wash up, cutting side glances to the nurse who’d performed so admirably under pressure. References or not, he wanted someone with her ability and cool head on his team. “Ms. Phillips?”

Amelia glanced at him.

“I think you’ve just been baptized by fire. If you want the job, it’s yours.”

A bright smile lit her face, and he was struck again by how attractive she was. “Thank you, Doctor. I accept.”

“Ms. Chastain?”

Violet angled her head toward the door where an auburn-haired woman and tall, rugged-looking man with light brown hair waited.

“Yes?” she said weakly, her body and emotions both drained to empty.

“I’m FBI Special Agent Emma Colton, and this is my brother, Philadelphia detective Tate Colton. We’re working the case involving the abduction of Amish girls in the area. If you feel up to it, we need to ask you some questions,” the woman said.

Though she had no energy, a heavy heart and a painkiller-induced daze muddying her thoughts, Violet knew she had information the police needed to rescue Mary. “I’ll do my best.”

Emma Colton stepped in and moved the chair beside Violet’s bed. Tate was propped against the wall, a mini-recorder in hand, ready to take her statement.

“Tell us what happened to you and Mary.” Emma flipped open a notepad. “Start at the beginning, and don’t leave anything out, no matter how minor the detail may seem.”