Stockman’s Stormcloud (Stockmen #3)

Two

‘Can Mr Purrington sleep with me tonight?’ The little girl stroked the ginger cat hogging her hospital bed.

Sophie smiled at her young patient, as she packed up their board game. ‘You were supposed to be asleep hours ago.’ Sophie playfully tapped the patient’s nose.

‘Where does Mr Purrington sleep?’

‘He has his bed at the nurses’ station, and this trolley so he can help me do my rounds.’ Everyone at the small bush hospital loved Mr Purrington. The patients sat higher in their beds, their smiles growing, whenever Sophie rolled her special nursing trolley into the room, with Mr Purrington in his basket eager to visit patients, as the cat who loved his cuddles.

But he’d gotten so lazy lately, he’d be lucky if he walked a corridor a week, preferring to be handled by both the patients and the staff.

‘Come on, Mr Purrington, it’s time to say goodnight to little Sammy.’

‘Will I see Mr Purrington tomorrow?’ The little girl patted the cat, snuggling into his plush basket. Along with the stash of vintage board games, her nursing trolley carried bowls for water and cat biscuits, as well as keeping the cat’s long lead that attached to his harness to ensure he never ran off. Not that the ginger lump of fur would run. He was the type to just lie down in the corner and sleep through an emergency—which was handy in a hospital .

Sammy went to suck on her fingers.

‘Hands, miss.’ Sophie turned the tap on at the sinks to wash her hands.

‘Um, yeah, sorry.’ The little girl grinned, hopping down to soap up her hands beside Sophie. ‘It’s a baaaaad habit.’ Sammy rolled her eyes. ‘It’s so bad that they call me finger-sucking Sammy . The dentist said I’ll need braces if I keep sucking my fingers, which is super expensive, and Mommy won’t be able to buy me my new set of roller-skates. And I’ve just learned to skate backwards.’

‘Roller-skates? That’s cool.’

‘I want purple ones. To match my tutu.’

‘You know you won’t be able to roller-skate for a while.’ The girl had just had her appendix removed. Yet children recovered so quickly, and the way Sammy was moving around, it wouldn’t be long, and she’d be back in the playground.

‘I know.’ Sammy sighed heavily as she lay back on her pillows.

‘The good news is you’ll be going home tomorrow.’

‘But I’ll miss Mr Purrington.’

‘I’m sure he’ll miss you, too. Goodnight, Sammy.’

‘Goodnight, Mr Purrington.’ The little girl tucked her sheets under her chin, giving the cat a wave.

Sophie pushed the cart down the empty corridor. It was the middle of her night shift, and she only had a few in care tonight, so her rounds were a breeze She parked her trolley at the nurses’ station. ‘Walk time, Mr Purrington.’

The cat yawned at her for daring to disturb him.

When she put him on the floor to walk, the great big lump just lay down.

‘Seriously cat, you need the cardio.’ Sophie dragged him by the halter, and he slid across the polished floor like a body surfer on ice, until he got the message to walk. It was the same story every night.

At the glass doors, she pressed the large red Exit button, and the doors slid open. The heat hit them like she’d walked into a sauna.

No wonder the cat refused to leave the comfort of the air-conditioned hospital. The car park was so steamy, heat radiated from the asphalt, even though the sun had set hours ago.

‘Just a short walk then, Mr Purrington.’

The cat’s fluffy paws delicately trotted through some weedy grasses, gravel, and red dust, while Sophie lightly held the cat’s lead and strolled alongside as Mr Purrington searched for the best place to do his business.

Sophie arched her neck back at the sky. It was as if the stars were draping over her like a cloak, their sparkly layers were endless. Coming from a city of lights, the outback’s skyline of stars was such a novelty, she could get lost gazing at them all night long.

A sweep of bright spotlights bathed the road coming from town. With the hospital behind her, it gave her a slightly elevated view of the one road, and the tiny outback town of Elsie Creek.

But that vehicle passed the fire station, the police station, and the retirement home, and kept on coming. Which meant one thing…

‘We’ve got to go, Mr Purrington. Incoming patient.’ She scooped up the cat as a yellow Kombi van drove into the emergency entrance. The driver’s door opened and a woman with lots of red hair jumped out. ‘Is that a cat? On a lead?’

‘Yes. Can I help you?’

‘Me, no. But you can help the cussing dark avenger playing his part as the bitching back-seat driver.’ She opened the back of the van. ‘You whine like a girl.’

‘You drive like you got your licence from a Weet-Bix box!’ A man with dark hair and brooding looks scowled at the redhead, then at the cat. ‘Is that a cat? Or did you give me some witch potion and I’m now hallucinating?’

Was Sophie hallucinating about this guy? He could have been a model. A rugged outback male model with messy dark hair and those eyes that had an edgy look to them.

‘Do you work here? Or are you a professional pet-walker?’

Sophie frowned at the brash redhead. ‘I’m a nurse.’ Hello, she was wearing the ugly green scrubs with Nurse written on the back. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked the patient.

He looked at her with that scowl, and those dark eyes. Holy mother of mercy, it was hot.

‘It’s just a cracked rib,’ muttered the man who made sin look positively sexy.

‘It’s more than that, Stormcloud.’ The redhead was so bossy. ‘Dex is in some serious pain. He’s pale, and he’s getting light-headed because it hurts for him to breathe. So, now that we’ve done the diagnosis in the car park, are we allowed to bring Dex inside?’

‘Yes, sure. Sorry.’ What was wrong with her to space out like this? Standing in the car park holding her cat, while staring at a patient, when she was a darned good ER nurse with years of experience.

‘Pop, grab that wheelchair for Dex.’ The redhead beat Sophie who was about to say the same thing.

The elderly man who’d arrived with them grabbed the chair, as the bossy redhead helped the new patient from the back of the yellow Kombi van.

‘I can walk,’ he complained.

‘Stop being a dick, Dex, and use the chair.’

‘Bossy much, Witch.’ Dex lowered himself into the seat, holding his ribs. ‘Are you going to aim for the wall and hit every bump you can find, like you did on the drive to get me here?’

‘I can find some for you, if that’s what you want?’ The redhead may have been taunting the guy, but she patted his shoulder like a friend. ‘Where do you want him, nurse?’

‘Take him to the emergency room on the right. I’ll call the doctor and turn on the X-ray machine.’ She punched the button to reopen the doors. With her cat draped over her shoulder, and phone in hand, she rushed to the nurses’ station. There, she clipped the cat’s lead to his trolley, where he’d happily sleep for the next twelve hours.

After swapping her shirt for one free from cat hair, and washing her hands, she found her new patient standing beside the examination bed, his shirt removed, wearing dark jeans and boots, holding an icepack against his ribs.

Sophie swallowed, as a bucketload of heat washed over her in ways it hadn’t done in years.

His body was nothing but pure raw muscle on muscle, all tight, lean and muscular mean. He had a set of abs on him that were so perfectly contoured she itched to fetch the tape measure to test their perfection. Along with a set of scars, and a whole lot of ink work, this guy put the bad into bad boy. Oh, no, not a boy—no, this was a M.A.N.

‘Is the doctor coming?’ the redhead asked.

Sophie nodded. ‘I’ll take Dex for X-rays. Which means another spin in the wheelchair.’ Even the name Dex was as hard as the man who scowled at the world as though he’d fought for everything. Sadly, he was fighting to breathe, like she was in his space.

‘Can you fill out his paperwork?’ Sophie handed the clipboard to the bossy redhead.

‘Sure.’ The redhead grabbed a wallet from her handbag and pulled out a driver’s licence. ‘Oh wow, your first name is Declan. Aww, how sweet. I always thought it was Dick.’

‘I hate you, Bree. Shouldn’t you be more sympathetic to the sick and injured?’ Dex winced, climbing back into the wheelchair.

‘Bree dumped me at the front doors of this place, once,’ said the old man, poking around the emergency room. ‘Problem was she flamin’ didn’t come back for days. And I’m her grandfather.’

Sophie couldn’t believe the redhead was grinning like it was some game. How callous and cruel was that woman? And how was this Bree connected to Sophie’s new patient?

‘We’ll be back soon.’ She pushed Dex’s wheelchair smoothly down the corridor to the X-ray room. In a matter of moments, she had Dex back on his feet and had manipulated the bulky tube head and extension arm of the X-ray machine to take a set of shots. She’d originally trained as a radiologist but later made the move to ER nurse. And the medical staff at this tiny bush hospital loved that she was skilled in both areas.

‘Where is the cat?’ Dex asked. ‘It was a cat, right? I wasn’t hallucinating?’

‘No. It’s a ginger cat. Hold for the count of three.’ Safely behind the screen, she watched through the protective window as the machine took the X-ray images.

‘Are cats allowed in hospitals?’

She put him into a side position, his manly scent strong. ‘Mr Purrington is a therapy cat.’

‘For who? You?’

She frowned at the man, who was in a lot of pain, as he stood still for the X-rays. ‘It’s for the patients.’ Although, Mr Purrington had a gift for showing up in times of need.

‘Right?’ He shrugged, only to wince. ‘Flip it.’ His hand went to his ribs. ‘All I need is a strong painkiller so I can leave.’

‘We’ll be going back to the emergency ward to wait for the doctor. In the meantime, I’ll clean you up.’ He had wounds on his face and lots of bruising.

‘Can you do that in another room?’

‘Why?’

‘I’d like to avoid the redhead.’

‘Sadly, all the good stuff is stashed in that emergency room where your friends are waiting for you.’ She grinned at him, not normally this playful with a patient in the wheelchair, as she pushed him back to the smallest ER she’d ever worked in.

‘Where’s Bree?’ Dex asked the old man leaning against the wall.

‘She’s in the car park calling your brothers.’

How did his brothers look? If they were anything like Dex, she was going to lock herself into the nurses’ station for the rest of her night shift to stop having heart palpitations .

‘Oh, man, no.’ While gripping his left ribs, with the other hand Dex raked his fingers through his hair that was long on top, with closely trimmed back and sides, exposing his strong thick neck. ‘What did Bree do that for?’

‘Because your paperwork needed the name of your next of kin.’ Bree returned to the room and dropped the clipboard on the examination bed.

So the redhead wasn’t family, which meant Bree had to be Dex’s girlfriend to get away with talking to him like that.

‘Don’t worry, your brothers aren’t about to stampede the place.’

‘Probably too drunk to drive,’ Dex mumbled as he climbed onto the examination bed, while Sophie slipped on some gloves and set about sterilising the various wounds on Dex’s handsome face.

‘Hey…’ Bree frowned, grabbing his arm, forcing Sophie to step back from the determined redhead. ‘All of your brothers are worried about you. And I told them as soon as we know something, I’ll let them know. Or do you want me to call them and see how crowded they can make this place?’

‘No.’

‘That’s what I thought.’ Bree let go, allowing Sophie to get back to wiping antiseptic over his wounds.

‘Will I need stitches?’ Dex asked Sophie as she moved on to his cut eyebrow. His brown eyes were so harsh looking, as if angry with the world.

‘No. I wouldn’t want to add to the collection.’ He had scars, and a slightly squashed nose, and ears that had a slight deformity known as wrestler’s ears, or cauliflower ears. A redness spread on his chin, across his jawline and up to his cheeks and eyes. He’d been through a fight. A big one. ‘Who won?’

‘Excuse me?’ He looked at her as if she’d said something wrong.

Ripping off her gloves, she recorded her examination notes on his chart. ‘I’ve worked in the city ER and I’ve seen enough of the after-effects from pub brawls, family feuds, and sibling rivalry especially around Christmas to know the signs of a fight.’ But that usually went with alcohol. Yet Dex, even Bree, didn’t smell of alcohol. ‘Who won?’ She swallowed. How dare she ask such a harsh man that sort of question.

Dex didn’t smile. Instead, he smirked ever so slyly, with his eyes finally showing a spark of something almost sinister to them. But then he winced. ‘Got anything for the pain?’

‘I’ll wait for the doctor to give you the good stuff.’

‘Not good.’ He got off the bed. Holding his side, with his breathing laboured, he paced the floor. Each step was fluid, smooth even, and in his snug-fitting dark jeans and boots, he paced the floor like a jaguar, lethal and lithe and gloriously sexy.

She’d never been interested in cowboys, and certainly not anything male in a long time. But she couldn’t stop watching this man.

‘I’m putting down twenty that it’s a cracked rib causing the trouble with your breathing.’ The redhead crossed her arms, watching Dex walk around the room. ‘Pop, you want in on that bet?’

‘Yeah, I’m in. I reckon it’s a proper broken rib, the way his rib cage is swelling on that one side, for sure. You’ve got a helluva bruise there, lad.’ The old man sat in the chair by the wall, poking up the brim of his wide hat with its crusty-looking hatband.

‘You in, Dex?’

Dex scowled deeper. ‘I’ll put down twenty for a hairline fracture.’

‘Are you betting on your injury?’ Sophie shook her head at these people.

In the short time she’d been here, she’d learned quickly that stockmen were a tough crowd. They’d walk in with wounds that would have had many in the city screaming the roof off, such as injuries from a bull’s horns tearing into their shoulders, hands crushed in drafting gates, or from falling from road-train trailers, or muster bikes. She’d even had a guy drive four hours from his cattle station, with a star picket hanging out of his side from fencing. But they were all the same, looking for a quick patch up so they could leave and get back to work. And they all had one thing in common—cowboys and farmers only came here during extreme cases of pain.

And the way Dex was struggling, it was more than a fracture.

Then he wobbled for just a split second to lean his hand against the wall.

‘You. Bed. Now.’ Sophie grabbed his arm and steered him back to bed. ‘I’m not having you faint on my shift.’

‘Behave, lady. I don’t faint.’ Dex scowled at her.

‘I saw it too, Dex. You’re getting light-headed. Is he lacking oxygen?’ The redhead looked concerned, grabbing Dex’s hand as she helped him back to bed.

‘Put this mask on, it’s pure oxygen.’ Sophie then turned the nozzle, hearing the hiss from the gas bottle. ‘Slow breaths. Try to get them as deep as you can. And stay right there.’

‘Why? Where are you going?’ demanded the bossy redhead.

‘To find the doctor.’ Sophie calmly walked out the door. As soon as she was out of sight, she hurried for the nurses’ desk, dragging out her work phone. With her years of experience, if she was willing to make a wager, she’d bet it was a lot more serious than a fractured rib.