Page 168 of Where We Bloom

“Hello everyone, this is your captain from the flight deck. We’ve reached our cruising altitude of thirty-four thousand feet. Should be a smooth ride up to Bitterroot Valley, but they are having some weather tonight that could make things dicey for us. If we have to divert, we’ll keep you posted. In the meantime, sit back and relax and enjoy the one hour, fifty minute flight.”

Christ, I hope we don’t have to divert.

Why do I always agree to attend these conferences when the weather is the most unpredictable? Last year, I was stuck in Denver overnight because of a storm for this same conference.

I'll look for something different next year.

I'm reading an article about celiac disease when a flight attendant comes over the loudspeaker.

“Is there a doctor on board?”

Christ.

“If there is, please press your call button.”

Resigned, I press the button above my head, and the attendant hurries up to me.

“Can you come with me, doctor?”

“Sure.”

I walk behind her and am surprised to find the gray-eyed woman sitting in the middle seat next to a man in the aisle, in the exit row, with her fingers on his neck, taking his pulse. The man appears to be in his mid-sixties. He’s pale and clammy, and I don’t like his breathing.

“I’m Dr. Blackwell,” I say as I crouch beside them.

“I’m Harper,” Gray Eyes replies and licks her lips. “I’m a nurse. I don’t like his color or his breathing.”

“Agreed.” She’s fucking smart. “Sir? What’s your name?”

“Ronald.” He’s panting as if he can’t catch his breath.

“Do you have pain in your left arm, Ronald?” I grabbed my backpack on the way back here. So I pull out my stethoscope and put it in my ears, then listen to Ronald’s heart.

“No,” he says.

“Does your chest hurt or feel heavy?”

“No.”

I need an EKG machine. I do have my smartwatch.

“Ronald, I’m going to put my watch on your wrist. It’ll take a measurement of your heart for me. It’s not perfect, and I’d rather we had you in my ER, but it’ll do for now. Is that okay?”

Ronald nods, and Harper gives me a half smile.

“I was about to do the same thing.”

She helps me get the watch on him, and I run the ECG function. It doesn’t show a heart issue, but it’s not a fail-safe.

I flag down the attendant.

“Do you mind if we put this gentleman behind me”—I gesture to the guy sitting across the aisle from Ronald—“in my seat, and I’ll take his so I can monitor this until we land?”

“Of course.” She escorts the other man to my first class seat, and I turn back to Ronald.

“I’m going to have the pilot call ahead to have an ambulance on standby to meet us when we land. Okay?”

“Yeah. I don’t feel great.”

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