Dating The Millionaire Doctor(3)

She shook her head, hardly conscious that she was responding. She had to  intubate. But if she left the wound …  She couldn't do both jobs herself.

'Unless you can intubate … ' she whispered, hopeless. She shouldn't have  tried. The oral conformation of koalas-small mouth, narrow dental  arcade, a long, soft palate and a caudally placed glottal opening, all  of these combined with a propensity to low blood oxygen saturation-made  koala anaesthetics risky at the best of times. And without another vet …

'I can intubate,' he snapped. 'Keep working.'

'You can?'

Jake was already at the side bench, staring down at equipment. 'What size tube?'

'Four millimetre,' she said automatically.

Another vet? Maybe he was, she thought, as he grabbed equipment and  headed to the table. Whoever he was, he knew what he was doing.

The soft palate of the koalas obscures the epiglottis from direct view,  but Jake didn't hesitate. He'd found and was using silicone spray,  snapping instructions at Becky to hand him equipment.

Tori was concentrating on applying pressure to the wound to prevent more  blood loss. She was therefore able to watch in awed amazement as Jake  manoeuvered the little animal into a sternal recumbency position, as he  applied more spray-and as he slid the tube home.

It was like the Angel Gabriel had suddenly appeared from the heavens.  Ask and ye shall receive. She'd barely been aware that she'd prayed.

No matter where he'd come from, no matter that she couldn't see his  wings and he sounded autocratic and fierce rather than soft and  halo-like, her one-and-a-half-minute date was definitely assuming  angel-like status. He had oxygen flowing in what seemed seconds. The  monitor by Tori's side showed a slight shift in the thin blue line-and  then a major one.

She had life.

'Heart rate's seventy beats a minute,' Jake snapped, adjusting the flow. 'How does that compare to normal?'

Not a vet, then? Or not a vet who cared for koalas. Of course not.

'Low, but a whole lot better than before you arrived,' she told him, but  there was no time for questions. Stunned, she went back to what she was  doing. She was incredibly grateful but now wasn't the time to show it.  She had to get this wound debrided, then get it dressed so the  anaesthetic could be reversed.

Koalas died under anaesthetic. This one wouldn't. Please …

As if in echo of her thoughts, Jake said, 'She seems knocked around.  Wouldn't euthanasia be the kindest option?' He'd had time now to take in  the scar tissue, the signs of major trauma.

'Says the man who just saved her,' Tori muttered. 'Let's try to keep her  alive until I finish. We can do the moral debate later.'

'Right.'

There was silence while she worked on. Becky had faded into the  background, assisting both of them, deeply relieved, Tori guessed, to be  freed from a task she hated. There was so much they'd done in the past  six months they'd all hated-including putting down more animals than she  wanted to think about.

How to explain that after so much death, one life became  disproportionately important. This little one she was working on didn't  have a name. Or … she shouldn't give her one. She should not be  emotionally involved.

Only, of course, she was emotionally involved. Koala Number  Thirty-seven-the thirty-seventh koala she'd treated since the  fire-belonged in the wild, and Tori was determined to get her back  there. She would win this last battle. She must.

Thanks to this man, she just might.

Who was he?

She was finishing now, applying dressings, having enough time again to  pay attention to the man at the head of the table. He was watching the  monitors like a hawk, his face fierce, absorbed, totally committed to  what he was doing.

Inserting an endotracheal tube in a koala was always dangerous  territory. If you went too deep there was a major risk of traumatising  the trachea and extending the tube into bronchus. She hadn't told him  that. There hadn't been time, but he'd seemed to know it instinctively.  How?

Maybe he was a vet, or maybe he did paediatric anaesthesia. Sometimes  she thought paediatrics and veterinary science were inexplicably linked.  Varying weights and sizes. The inability of the patient to explain  where the pain was.

Who was he?

She was finished. Another check of the monitors. Pulse rate eighty. Blood oxygen saturation ninety percent.         

     



 

Koala Thirty-seven just might live.

She couldn't help herself; she put her hand on the soft fur of the little koala's face and bestowed a silent blessing.

'You keep on living,' she whispered. 'You've come so far. You will make it.'

'She might well,' Jake said. He was working surely and confidently,  removing the endotracheal tube with care and watching with satisfaction  as the little animal settled back into normal breathing pattern. 'So  who's going to pay her bill?'

'Now there's a question,' she murmured. She was carrying the little  animal carefully back to her cage in the corner. She wasn't out of the  woods yet-she knew that. Any procedure took it out of these wild  animals, but at least there was hope.

She'd done all she could, she thought, arranging the IV line the little  animal needed to provide fluids until she started eating again. Then she  was finished.

Really finished, she thought suddenly. There was now nothing left to do.

The sensation was strange. For the six months since the fires Tori had  worked nonstop. This place had been a refuge for injured wildlife from  all over the mountain. They'd had up to fifty volunteers at one time,  with Tori supervising the care of as many as three hundred animals.  Kangaroos, wallabies, possums, cockatoos, koalas-so many koalas. So many  battles. So much loss.

It was over. Those who could be saved had been saved, and were being  re-introduced in the wild. The spring rains had come, the bush was  regenerating; there was food and water out there for animals to  re-establish territories.

This little koala was the last of her responsibilities. She glanced down  at her and, as she did, she felt a wave of the deep grief that was  always with her. All those she'd failed …

'Is it okay if I go now?' Becky said, glancing uncertainly at Jake. 'It's just … Ben's picking me up. He'll be waiting.'

'Sure, Becky. Thanks for your help.'

'You won't need me again, will you?'

'No.' She glanced back at the koala. If there was a need for more  surgery, she knew what her decision would have to be, and for that she  wouldn't need Becky.

'See you, then,' Becky said. 'I'm out of here. Hooray for the city-I'm  so over this place.' And with another curious glance at Jake she  disappeared, closing the door behind her.

Leaving Tori with Jake.

'I …  Thank you,' she managed. He looked pretty much like he had the night  before. Slightly more casual. Faded jeans and a white, open-necked  shirt. Elastic-sided boots. He looked like a local, she thought, which  was at odds with his American accent.

'My pleasure,' he said, and sounded like he meant it. 'I didn't realise last night that you were a vet.'

'I didn't know you were.'

'I'm not.'

'So inserting endotracheal tubes in koalas is just a splinter skill for, say, a television repairman?'

'I'm an anaesthetist. Jake Hunter.'

'An anaesthetist,' Tori said blankly. 'In Combadeen? You have to be kidding.'

'I'm not kidding. I'm staying at Manwillinbah Lodge.'

'Rob Winston's place?' She was struggling now with the connection. What  had Jake said last night? 'I own properties here, in the valley and up  on the ridge.' And Rob. Distracted, she thought of the pleasant young  man who'd flirted outrageously last night. She remembered him arriving  with this man. With Jake. 'Was Rob Winston the ninth date last night?'  she demanded.

'That was Rob.'

'He was nice. Fun.'

'Meaning, I wasn't?'

'I didn't say that. But I wish I'd known who he was,' she said ruefully.  'He should have told me. I need to thank him, and not only for letting  us use this place. I had a friend who went to Manwillinbah Lodge when  she was released from hospital two months ago. It wasn't right for her.  She needed ongoing medical treatment, but that wasn't Rob's fault, and  she said he tried so hard to give her time out. So many people around  here need that.' She frowned, figuring more things out. 'So is this … is  this your farm?'

'It is.'

'Oh, my … '

Uh-oh.

Last night she'd walked out on her landlord. On the guy who'd made this  whole hospital possible. 'You've been giving this place to us rent free  and I didn't even know who you were.' It was practically a wail and he  grinned.

'This is a whole new conversation topic. If we'd known last night we could have used our whole five minutes.'         

     



 

She managed a smile-just. How embarrassing. And how to retrieve the situation?

She should shake his hand. Or, um, not. She glanced down at her gloves  and decided gratitude needed to wait. Plus she needed to catch her  breath. Breath seemed in remarkably short supply.

'Could you excuse me for a moment?' she muttered. 'I need to wash.' And  she disappeared-she almost ran-leaving him alone with Koala Number  Thirty-seven.



He was in the front room of what seemed to have been a grand old  farmhouse. It still was, somewhere under the litter of what looked to be  an animal hospital.