‘Piper Hendrix?’ she asked.
‘That’s me.’ Piper’s shoulders loosened when a warm smile filled the other woman’s face.
‘I’m Cara Phillips.’ She stuck her hand out for Piper to shake. ‘I’m glad you’re here. The agency has been trying to help us fill this position for a while, but no one seems to stay around.’ Cara turned on her heel and Piper hoisted her bag higher on her shoulder as she followed.
‘Why’s that?’
‘They come for the experience then head for somewhere bigger.’ Cara led her through the sliding doors. ‘We’re a small country hospital with a main ward and emergency department only. This is our ED.’
Piper looked around at the crisply made beds lining either side of the large room. It was only a tenth of the size of what she was used to working in, but excitement washed through her nonetheless.
‘The ED closes at five and everything goes through to the main ward, which is manned by three nurses overnight. We have a locum in from Townsville through the day who’s on call at night.’
‘Does he get called in often?’
Cara shook her head. ‘No, but when he does, it’s horrific. All serious cases go to Townsville via ambulance. Critical cases get airlifted by the Royal Flying Doctor Service. The ambulance station is at the bottom of the hill next to the firies. You probably drove past it on your way up here.’
Piper cast her mind back to the little brown brick building with two large roller doors. The familiar emblems named it unmistakeably.
A handful of nurses wandered through the door at the far end of the ward.
‘Ah, I was hoping this lot would be around soon,’ Cara said, gesturing to them. ‘Through that door is a staff room, where you’ll be able to store your belongings, as well as a kitchenette, fridge, bathroom and a bunk room for naps during night shift.’ She turned to the group of nurses. ‘Ladies and gent, this is our new nurse from Sydney, Piper Hendrix. She’ll be commencing with us today and I expect you all to answer any questions she has.’
‘Of course we will, Cara,’ said a female nurse on the left with dark skin and a bouncy brown ponytail. ‘You make it sound like we’re a closed-off mob.’
‘Piper will soon learn we’re all oversharers.’ A vibrant redhead grinned at her, showing off a white smile. Piper couldn’t help but smile back.
‘Mmm,’ Cara hummed dryly. ‘Piper, meet Maddie.’ The redhead gave a wave. ‘Greta.’ The bouncy brown ponytail girl smiled. ‘Robbie and Audrey.’ A man with a closely shaved head also grinned and the blonde next to him dipped her head in a nod.
‘Nice to meet you, and apologies in advance if I have to ask your names a few times,’ Piper said. They shared a laugh and Piper’s anxiety at meeting a new crew dissipated a little.
A beeping from the phone that Cara held drew their attention. ‘Maddie, can you show Piper where she can put her things, please?’
‘Sure,’ Maddie said, but it was to Cara’s retreating back as the head nurse bustled out of the emergency department.
Piper glanced around. ‘Is it normal for there not to be any patients?’
Maddie gestured towards the staff room door. ‘We move all patients over to the main ward when the ED closes each day to start fresh in the morning. You’re from Sydney?’
‘Yep. The ED’s never empty there.’ Piper laughed.
‘This will be a big change for you then. Why come all the way to Rush Creek? Have you got family out here?’
Piper shook her head as Maddie held the door to the staff room open for her. ‘Just needed a big scenery change and a fresh start.’
‘Well, you’ve come just in time for Christmas.’
Piper’s brow folded. ‘Christmas? It’s like six weeks away.’
‘Not in Rush Creek.’
‘QAS just pulled up,’ Maddie called after lunch.
QAS—Queensland Ambulance Service. Piper finished tucking the sheet under the corner of the bed and joined the redheaded nurse in the bay closest to the door for assessing patients. As if she had ultrasonic hearing, Cara came through the doors from the waiting area and squirted sanitiser on her hands. Robbie was taking observations of an elderly lady on another bed and Audrey and Greta were on their lunch breaks.
The door from the ambulance bay opened and the soft cries of a little girl filled the emergency room. Empathy flowed from Piper at the sight of the patient on the stretcher, her hair in braids, her blue and yellow uniform dusty. She was clutching her arm to her chest. ‘Eight-year-old Moni Rays took a tumble from the monkey bars,’ the female paramedic said as she walked alongside the stretcher. ‘Suspected broken wrist …’
The woman’s voice and everything she was saying faded when Piper caught sight of the other paramedic pushing the stretcher into the bay. His light brown hair was pulled away from his face and knotted at the back of his head in a man bun, his broad shoulders swathed in the green of his jumpsuit uniform and he wore a plaited leather band around his wrist. He locked the stretcher in place and looked up, straight into Piper’s eyes. She was frozen by the familiar hazel stare, so she didn’t miss the shock of recognition.