Her Greek Doctor's Proposal (8 page)

“But how could it have anything to do with the dig? We’ve been here two months with nobody getting sick.”

“I agree. But until we have confirmation that it’s not a fungal infection, I think everybody has the right to be extra cautious if they want, and we’ll stay out of the caves for now.”

“I don’t get why he thinks there might be something in the caves. Mel hasn’t been in there since June.”

“It’s possible she got something from Tom. But I figure it’s more likely they got some random virus from some long-gone tourist while we had dinner in Delphi, or someone who stayed at the hotel. Though Dr. Drakoulias and I have both talked to management there, and as far as they know, nobody’s been sick.”

“So we should just keep at it, don’t you think?”

“I’m planning to, but, again, I understand people being concerned. We all want this dig to end on a high note. Hopefully the three of them will be fine soon, and we’ll find there’s nothing to worry about.” She prayed that was true, and that the high note was a certain big, knockout find she hadn’t given up on.

“Well, I’m not worried about it. And I’ve gotta say, I’d rather be in the nice, cool cave than out here all day. I’d forgotten how beastly hot it is.”

“Working in heat, cold and rain is part of the gig sometimes. And don’t forget about the snakes up here. Gotta be tough to be a digger.” Laurel smiled and tossed a water bottle to Becka. “We’ll quit for the day in about an hour. Hydrate and take a little break.”

Becka stood and swigged down some water. Laurel’s smile grew at how much the girl reminded her of her sister Ariadne, and as she was wondering what her siblings were doing, Becka interrupted her thoughts with a chilling scream.
Her heart knocked against her chest when Becka dropped the bottle and fell, writhing, onto the ground.

“What’s wrong?” Laurel leaped to her feet and ran the few feet between them.

“Oh, God, my leg! What…?”

Laurel followed the girl’s wide-eyed gaze, horrified to see that beneath the hand clutching at her calf, blood gushed down her leg, a shocking amount pooling around the dirt and stones she lay sprawled on.

“Becka. Let me see.” Laurel’s heart pounding now, she dropped to her knees and instantly saw what had happened. “I think your trowel cut you.”

“I’m so stupid,” the girl moaned. “You always said never to stick our trowel in our back pocket, but I did, didn’t I? Did it cut through my shorts and fall out? Is it bad?”

“It’s a pretty good gash.” That was an understatement, but the last thing Laurel needed was for the girl to faint or go into shock. “Let me get it wrapped up, then we’ll have to get you down the mountain somehow.”

Her mind frantically spun to first-aid classes she’d learned, and she prayed she remembered right. The injuries her sisters occasionally came home with had been pretty minor. Definitely nothing like this. Laurel had seen a few injuries
on the digs she’d been able to go on close to home but hadn’t been in charge. Why hadn’t she paid more attention to how they’d stopped the bleeding?

Okay, she reminded herself grimly, freaking out and staring at it wasn’t going to fix it. She ran to the supply box and dug through until she found gauze wraps on the bottom and the duct tape she’d used over her bandage. But when she kneeled next to Becka, the amount of blood pouring through the girl’s fingers sent fear surging down her spine, and she knew she had to do something more than just wrap it.

“I’m going to try to hold it together and put pressure on it for a few minutes to slow the bleeding before I wrap it. Okay?”

Becka nodded. Just as Laurel began to lay a piece of gauze lengthwise on the cut, the girl let out a little moan, and Laurel looked up at her. Lord, she was staring at the blood, her face turning the ghastliest white. “Don’t faint on me now.” That was the last thing either of them needed, and Laurel quickly tried to move her into a sitting position.

“Sit up and put your head between your knees.” It wasn’t easy to press on the wound at the same time she pushed the girl’s head down with the other. “Deep breaths. I’m going to press hard on your leg to stop the bleeding, so be prepared.”

Becka thankfully followed directions. Every muscle tense, Laurel tried to gently bring the edges of the wound together, then pressed hard again. Becka cried out, biting her lip until Laurel was afraid it might start bleeding too. “I’m sorry. Hang in there. Once I get it wrapped up, I’ll take you to Dr. Drakoulias.”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, her heart knocked again. What if the man wasn’t in Kastorini, but back at the Sophia Elias hospital or somewhere else? Then she remembered she had his phone number. She’d call him as soon as she could get a cell signal.

The fear filling her chest eased a bit, and she took a deep breath. It would be okay. No matter where he was, she’d be able to ask for his help. How much that thought calmed her was a little shocking, considering she hadn’t relied on anyone else for much help in a long time.

She just hoped he wasn’t still annoyed with her the way he’d been last night. Then wondered why she’d let it bother her. Her job, her responsibility to her parents and the future they’d wanted for her were all wrapped up in this dig, and she couldn’t care if anyone approved of how they finished things up or not.

“Can you press down on it the way I was while I wrap it? Try not to move the gauze I already have on there.”

“Okay,” Becka said in a strained voice, reaching down to do as Laurel asked. Finally she had it tightly wrapped, hoping to heck it wasn’t so tight that it cut off the poor girl’s circulation. She sat back on her heels and stared at the gauze, relieved that it wasn’t turning red with more blood.

“Okay, let’s go. I’ll help you stand, then we’ll grab Jason so he can help us.”

With Becka’s arm across Laurel’s shoulders, they awkwardly moved down the path toward grid eight. She couldn’t see Jason, and prayed he was down in the pit where he should be. By the time they got to it, Laurel already felt nerves and muscles pinching from trying to hold Becka’s weight as she limped. “Jason! Are you here?”

“I’m here,” a voice said.

Laurel nearly sagged in relief. “Becka’s hurt. I need your help.”

In an instant, Jason came running up the makeshift stone steps from the pit, a worried frown on his face. “What happened?”

“I stupidly put my trowel in my shorts pocket, and it cut through and dove into my leg,” Becka said through clenched teeth.

“Rookie mistake.” Jason gave Becka a little smile as he lifted his hand and stroked her cheek, the gesture tugging at Laurel’s heart. She’d thought maybe the two college kids were
becoming sweet on one another, but hadn’t paid that much attention. “You okay?”

“I think so. Hurts like crazy, though, and I’ll probably have some ugly scar.”

“Scars from a dig are a badge of honor. Makes you all the more interesting.”

“You think?” The girl rolled her eyes at him, finally looking less freaked out.

“Oh, yeah. Not that you needed to be more interesting.”

“Okay, enough of the mushy stuff, you two,” Laurel joked, glad to be feeling less freaked out too, after the first shock of it all. “Let’s get her down the mountain to my car so I can take her to the clinic. It’s pretty deep, and I’m sure she’ll need stitches.”

It was easier with Jason’s help, or, really, with Laurel helping Jason, who took on most of Becka’s weight. Laurel called Andros a few times, relieved when she finally got a signal and he answered.

“Is something wrong, Laurel?”

How had he known it was her? The man must have put her contact information in his phone. That thought shouldn’t have affected her, since he probably did it for professional reasons, but she couldn’t help feeling absurdly pleased about it. “Becka has a serious gash in her leg from a trowel. Are you at the clinic?”

“I’m here. Bring her right in.”

Jason got Becka tucked into the car and hovered there as he fastened her seat belt. “I’d like to come with you, but I better get back to work. At this rate, we’re not going to finish what we’ve started if I don’t.”

“I’ll be coming back to the dig after we get her fixed up and settled in at the hotel. I’ll let you know how she is,” Laurel promised, partly to relieve his mind and partly to get going before there was some long, drawn-out goodbye. Becka’s leg needed prompt attention. And he was right—they’d never get finished at this rate unless everyone who could still work did overtime.

Andros must have been watching for them, because as soon as she pulled up in front of the clinic, he strode out of the door and helped Becka inside, Laurel following.

“You can come along if you want, or you can stay in the waiting room,” he said, speaking to Laurel over his shoulder.

“I’ll come.” If Becka was anything like Laurel’s sisters, she’d want someone by her side. They might believe they were all grown-up, but inside they still needed someone to turn to for comfort.

Laurel’s chest felt heavy when the memories unexpectedly bombarded her. She’d been Becka’s age exactly when she’d fallen into the dark
hole of grief her parents’ deaths had left her and her sisters with. All those summers she’d been stuck home watching her sisters while her parents were working had seemed hard. Then she’d learned that had been nothing compared to what it felt like for that comforting support to be forever gone.

“After I take a look, I’ll have to thoroughly wash it out, okay?” Andros settled Becka by a low sink that was really more like an open shower, before his eyes met Laurel’s. “Christina’s not here right now. Want to help me get some supplies?”

“Of course.”

She followed him into an exam room, and he pulled gauze, pads and a bottle of some liquid from a closet, handing them to her. “Were you with her when it happened?” he asked as he grabbed some sealed bags of what looked like syringes and suture kits and who knew what.

“Yes. It’s a long, pretty deep gash. Not sure exactly how deep, but it bled a lot.”

“What did you do for it?”

“Tried to bring the edges of the wound together, then pressed on it a while to stop the bleeding. Seemed to work well enough, then I bandaged it and brought her here.”

“Sounds like maybe you should have forgotten about digging for a living and become a doctor.”

Fascinated by that unexpected dimple that poked into one cheek as he paused to look at her, she nearly dropped the gauze and bottle and fumbled to hang on to them. “Since I feared I might pass out when I first saw all that blood, I think I chose the right career path.”

“Think you’ll faint if you watch me stitch it up?” he asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “If so, please stay in the waiting room. Last thing either of us needs is for you to keel over and crack open your beautiful head.”

“I want to be there for Becka.” She was aware of a deep feeling of relief that he obviously wasn’t still irritated with her. Deeper than it should have been. And how ridiculous was it that him calling her head “beautiful” gave her a little glow inside as well? “Since I’m not responsible anymore for whether she lives or dies, I think I’ll be okay.”

He chuckled then instantly became all business when they walked into Becka’s room and Andros pulled a rolling stool up next to her. “Let’s take a look.”

Laurel watched him carefully peel off the layers of gauze and wouldn’t admit for the world that she had to look away a couple times when she saw the long, raw slice in Becka’s calf that again oozed a trickle of blood.

“Nice first-aid job, Ms. Evans,” he said, glancing
up at her with a smile in his dark eyes. “I’m impressed.”

“Thanks. Hope I don’t have to do it again.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he held her gaze for a moment, and darned if her heart didn’t skip a beat before he turned to Becka. “I’m going to put a lidocaine-epinephrine mix all around the skin, then inject it with some painkillers before I wash it out. This part’s going to hurt, I’m sorry to say.”

Laurel and Becka both watched him gently but efficiently smooth on a liquid with a cotton pad, all around the edges of the torn skin. When he was done, he looked up at Becka, his dark eyes sympathetic. “Going to inject the painkiller into the wound now, which isn’t going to feel good either. But then it’ll be nice and numb when I stitch it up. Okay?”

Becka nodded, then gave a little crying gasp before she bit her lip hard as she had on the mountain. Laurel reached for the girl’s hand, not sure if she was comforting Becka or both of them, again thinking of her own sisters and how upset she’d be if they were in pain like this. She remembered many small boo-boos when they’d smothered her with grateful hugs and kisses after she’d patched them up, managing to smile at the sweet memories.

She had to turn away a couple times as he
repeatedly stuck the needle down into the open wound. “Will you think less of me if I say I’m glad my parents were archaeologists and didn’t groom me to be a doctor instead?”

Andros glanced up at her with a smile. “Nothing would make me think less of you. And I have a feeling you’d be great at anything you put your mind to. Even medicine.” He set aside the needle and vial, and attached a hose to the faucet.

“Thank God,” Becka said fervently. “That was awful.”

“I know. That’s no fun, but you’re doing great.” He patted her knee. “Washing it out isn’t a picnic either, so hang in there for me.”

He hosed down the angry wound, washing it thoroughly as he’d done with Laurel’s hand. She started to worry that poor Becka would bite right through her lip if she chomped on it any harder.

“When Dr. Drakoulias had to wash out the cut on my hand, I thought he might drain the entire Gulf of Corinth before he was done,” she said, trying to distract the girl with a joke.

Becka managed a little laugh, thankfully. “Maybe then they wouldn’t be able to catch any octopus to serve up at dinner, which Jason hounds me to eat every time. I can’t get why he loves them. Doesn’t he understand that those little suction cups weird me out?”

“Laurel thinks octopus suckers are a delicacy,
don’t you? Preferably washed down with ouzo.” Andros’s gaze lifted to hers for a brief moment, his dark eyes filled with that mischievous twinkle again as he winked.