The Doctor tied off the end of the suture then neatly snipped the thread. Allison McManus had insisted that he treat Iain and the twins first. The boys were all right, really, with injuries no more serious than some bruises and superficial cuts from the broken glass. Iain had fractured his ulna, but it was a simple break and had been fairly easy to set.
Allison's cheekbone was badly bruised, the accompanying gash running from just beneath her eye down to her chin. The Doctor had worked with great care to repair the damage sufficiently to prevent significant scarring. Still, the cut was quite deep, with ragged edges. He planned to whip up some semi-regenerative gel down in the lab tomorrow and give it to her. There was no reason for her to bear the marks of the accident permanently.
She lay quietly beneath his steady hands, but her eyes moved out to the waiting room frequently. The twins had fallen asleep, but Iain remained awake, his own gaze meeting hers as he nodded his relief. Her expression was the same as Rose's when she spread her hands over her belly during tranquil, reflective moments.
"Almost done," he told Allison, offering her a warm, reassuring smile. He dressed the wound with care.
Voices just outside the door drew his attention away from his patient. Iain was talking in hushed tones to another man.
"Doctor," Iain said, stepping into the room, "Thomason's here. He needs to speak with you." He glanced at his wife. "Can I send him in?"
The Doctor helped Allison to sit up. "She's all set. I'll drive you home. Just give me a minute with him."
Iain led his wife out the door, and a moment later the volunteer fire chief entered. "How're they doing?" he asked.
"Everyone's going to be fine. Was someone else hurt while you removed the wreckage?" His eyes moved appraisingly over the stocky fellow.
"No, Doctor, but something else's happened." Thomason looked decidedly uncomfortable.
"What is it?"
"The storm's winds whipped up somethin' fierce, knocked down a couple of trees, took out the power. Angus Atterbury called it in."
At the mention of his neighbor, the Doctor's heart began thudding in his chest. "At his house?" he asked.
"Worst of it seemed to be at Mrs. Hudson's, but he's got some damage, too, and he was just heading over to check on Rose. With the power out, he couldn't see anything from his place."
Immediately the Doctor reached for the phone mounted on the wall. He punched in the numbers with almost savage speed then waited anxiously while the lines connected. One ring, two, three… Had Rose slept through the microburst? Four, five, six…
"She's not picking up," he said. "I have to go."
"'Course. I'll go with you."
"No. Iain needs a ride home. Can you take them?"
"Yeah."
With a curt nod of gratitude, the Doctor swept from the room. In less than a minute he had grabbed his bag and coat, promised the McManus family that he would check in on them in the morning, and reached his car.
Rain continued to fall, but the brunt of the storm had passed. He reached his house within five minutes, immediately noting the utter darkness in the neighborhood. It was strange and eerie, and it left his stomach tight and gnawing.
The front door was open, and he could see a torchlight in the bedroom. "Rose!" he called, hurrying down the hall.
"She's not here." The tall silhouette of Angus Atterbury appeared in the doorway. "I've checked the whole house."
"Did you go to Mrs. Hudson's?"
"Maggie went over straightaway, as soon as we were certain it was safe. I wanted to be sure you and Rose were all right."
"Thank you."
The words were rather perfunctory, but his mind was occupied with more pressing matters. Where the hell had Rose gone? He shone his own torch around the house, finding no real damage from the storm. He checked all the rooms and the yard, too, in case Atterbury had missed something, but Rose was definitely gone.
As an afterthought, he reached for the phone and switched it on, thankful for the modified backup battery system he'd installed several the previous month. A quick scroll through the caller ID log showed that Mrs. Hudson had phoned nearly an hour ago.
"She's over there," he informed Atterbury curtly, already hastening toward the door, "at Mrs. Hudson's."
The Doctor ran through the rain, his neighbor struggling to keep up with his long stride. He reached the elderly woman's house in less than three minutes, stopping short as his light swept the scene before him. The large elm in the yard was now merely a skeletal trunk with jagged stumps where its arching branches had once grown. His eyes moved with inexorable determination yet unyielding dread to the side of the building. A large portion of the wall had been ripped away by the hurricane-force winds.
The light bobbed in his shaking hand. "Rose!" he cried, stumbling through the debris littering the yard.
A figure appeared in the breach, and he called his wife's name again. The torch illuminated the pale, distraught face of Maggie Atterbury. Now semi-retired, she had worked as Dr. Reice's nurse for many years. She still assisted the Doctor occasionally. He knew that she was not a woman easily shaken.
"Doctor! Come quickly!" she beckoned.
Angus was behind him now, shining his torch through the hole to provide additional light. As the Doctor stepped through, Maggie took his torch.
"They're over here," she said, aiming the beam at the closet door.
A massive branch lay across the floor, blocking the door from opening.
"Mrs. Hudson's conscious," Maggie added quickly, "but I can't move the branch by myself."
"Rose?" the Doctor asked. His throat was horribly dry.
"I don't know. Mrs. Hudson's confused—"
Further conversation ceased immediately as the Doctor fell to his knees and reached for the heavy limb. Angus grasped a nearby section, and Maggie shoved at the end. The obstruction was quickly pushed away.
The Doctor lunged for the closet door and flung it open as the Atterburys aimed their torches inside. The beam hit Mrs. Hudson first. The old woman was quaking and wild-eyed.
"Doctor!" she gasped, lifting her arms to him.
But his attention was solely on the body crumpled at the back of the closet. Rose's hair covered her face, and her hands lay limply at her sides. He barely realized that Maggie was helping Mrs. Hudson out of the small space, past him and over the branch. Almost as an afterthought, he said mechanically, "Careful. She could have broken bones or a spinal injury."
He heard some vague acknowledgement as he knelt at his wife's side. Someone continued to illuminate the interior of the closet with a torch, but it was barely sufficient. Still, his fingers easily found the familiar pulse point in Rose's throat, and his own heartbeat jolted up then steadied incrementally as he felt the somewhat weak but softly steady beat beneath his hand.
Rose was alive. He exhaled and closed his eyes for one moment in profound relief.
"Is she… all right?" That was Maggie's voice, the question phrased tentatively.
He didn't bother to glance back. "I don't know."
He dreaded the process of finding out. Still, he forced himself to push aside his trepidation in favor of his professionalism. Rose needed him in his full capacity as a doctor, as her Doctor.
The light flickered and changed in intensity. "Power's back on," he heard Angus say.
"Get some light over here," he instructed tersely. "And go back to my house for my bag."
He pulled his pen torch from his pocket and switched it on, brushing the hair away from Rose's face so that he could shine the small beam into each eye. There was no indication of concussion or other significant head injury despite the hematoma forming above her left eyebrow.
Maggie brought a lamp and set it just inside the closet. Now he had sufficient light to perform a cursory visual examination. His gaze ran over his wife's body. Limbs were properly aligned if slightly akimbo. He saw a few scrapes but no significant signs of bleeding on her face, torso, arms, or legs. He tried to keep his hand steady as he gently shifted her thighs apart. Her jeans were dark with wetness, and for one moment he felt panic rising. But she'd been out in the rain, and all of her clothes were wet. He pressed his fingers over the fabric then lifted the hand to his mouth. Water. All he tasted was plain, ordinary, wonderful H2O.
He lowered his hand to slide it up under her shirt, spreading his fingers over her swollen belly. He could sense nothing amiss, although the fetus was quite still. Sometimes, with sufficient concentration, he could feel the baby's heart beating, but his mind was awash in too many emotions and too many thoughts… At the moment, his wife was the priority. He returned his full attention to her.
He checked each limb carefully then ran assiduous hands over her ribcage and cervical vertebrae. With great care, he rolled Rose onto her side so that he could assess her spinal column, too. His relief grew as he found no serious injuries. Shifting her onto her back again, he adjusted her slightly her so that she lay in a more natural, comfortable position—well, as comfortable as one could be reclining amid old shoes.
"Here's your bag," said Angus, setting the requested item beside him.
"Thank you," the Doctor acknowledged, the sentiment succinct yet earnest.
He found his stethoscope quickly and checked Rose's heart and lungs. Satisfied, he slid the instrument downward. When he'd finished, he stuffed it back into his bag then looked up at Angus, who hovered just outside the closet.
"How is she?" the neighbor asked.
"I need to get her out of here," he replied, the words seeming to compress in the constriction of his throat.
"I brought my car."
With careful motions, the Doctor lifted his wife into his arms and carried her through the house. The carpets were saturated, and the bedroom was a wreck. Rather idly he noticed that Mrs. Hudson was nowhere in sight.
"Where's Mrs. Hudson?" he asked Angus, who walked at his side carrying his bag.
"Maggie took her to our house. We'll keep her there tonight."
Almost as an afterthought, he asked, "How's she doing?"
"Maggie says she'd a little shaken up, but she seems all right—nothing broken, no sign of internal injuries. She's got some bruises, but those look like they happened some time ago."
"She took a spill this morning," he replied. "She needs her medication… should be in the bedroom if you can find it. Three bottles. Maggie'll know how to administer it."
"I'll check later."
Angus led the Doctor out to the driveway, where his car waited with open back seat doors. The Doctor slid in, cradling Rose in his lap.
"Hospital?" Atterbury asked concisely.
"No. Just take us home. She'll want to be there when she wakes."
Rose stirred against his chest, making a small noise of either confusion or discomfort; he couldn't tell which.
"Sshh, love, it's all right," he soothed softly, pressing a kiss to her brow.
"Mrs… Hudson ," she murmured.
"She's fine. And we're home now, and I'm going to tuck you up in bed, all nice and cozy."
Swallowing hard, he blinked at the hot tears brimming in his eyes.
To be continued…