Royal Doc's Secret Heir Page 8

  Or at least it felt fitting.

  * * *

  For the rest of the trip to Petrie Island the atmosphere was tense. Jeena didn’t say anything and neither did Maazin. The dark clouds were still in the distance, but Jeena had a real sense of foreboding as she watched them.

  Even Maazin seemed on edge about it. As they approached the island Jeena gasped in shock. She remembered coming to Petrie Island with her grandfather a lot. He would sell vanilla on the island every Sunday and often take her.

  The little island just north of the larger Agung was always bustling on a Sunday when the market came in.

  There were other smaller islands all around the main island of Kalyana and all these small communities would come together and congregate on Petrie. They would share stories and sell their wares.

  She remembered a weaver living on the island who would weave beautiful saris the color of the sea shot with gold. Her mother had one still.

  But as they got closer to the island and Jeena could see the devastation, her heart sank. Houses had been toppled, trees uprooted and the small harbor that housed the islands’ boats had been destroyed. Boats were capsized or washed ashore and irreparably damaged.

  It was like a war zone.

  It was awful.

  Maazin pursed his lips and frowned. “It’s worse than I thought.”

  “No one from Kalyana has been out this way since Blandine?” Jeena asked in shock.

  “No. We’ve been unable to get here. There were so many wounded and sick on the main islands. Then those in further outlying areas were coming to the main island to seek help. No one from Petrie came, but now I understand why, they were unable to.”

  Maazin docked his yacht at the main pier, where police officers and first responders who lived on the island were waiting for his arrival.

  Jeena’s stomach twisted in a knot as she watched Maazin greet the men and women who were waiting for him. There was a lot of deference and saluting, but Maazin was quick to shut that all down.

  “I’ve brought medical supplies,” he told the man who Jeena assumed was the chief of police. “And a surgeon. This is Dr. Harrak.”

  Jeena climbed down onto the dock and shook everyone’s hands.

  “Jeena, this the chief of police on Petrie. His name is Mustafa. Mustafa, this is Dr. Jeena Harrak. She is Kalyanese, but is from Canada.”

  “We’re so glad you’ve come, Your Highness,” Mustafa said. “We have so many wounded. Our first aid and first responder teams have done what they can, but we have some who require surgical intervention.”

  “I’m here to help. Have all your buildings been damaged by the cyclone?” Jeena asked Mustafa.

  “Not all. Those closest to the water have been. The city hall is standing as it was made from cement and cinderblock. We have moved all the wounded and sick there. It’s sheltered and has a generator.” Mustafa looked exhausted. “We have an elderly gentleman who was brought to us last night by his daughter. He lived on one of the smaller islands. He was a weaver and one of our medics said he suspects that the man has appendicitis.”

  Jeena bit her lip. “That’s not good.”

  “No, he’s very ill. The medics have set him up with an IV antibiotic drip, but if it’s appendicitis he really needs to get off island and have surgery.”

  “There might not be time to get him off island,” Maazin stated.

  “You’re right. We’ll have to check him.” Jeena frowned. “I could perform an emergency surgery if I had to.”

  “Can you?” Mustafa asked, surprised.

  “Of course. It’s what I’m trained for,” Jeena replied. “You said the man was a weaver?”

  Mustafa nodded. “Yes, and a tailor, the only one in Petrie. He’s been selling his fabrics, saris, kurtas and lenghas here for over twenty years. He’s very talented.”

  Jeena smiled. “Yes. My mother has one of his saris. She cherishes it.”

  Mustafa grinned. “Harrak is your surname?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is your grandfather Rami Harrak?” Mustafa asked.

  “Yes, that was my grandfather. My father took over his plantation, until...” She trailed off, trying not to think about the night she and her family had left their home. “My parents live in Canada now.”

  “Good for them,” Mustafa said, and Jeena was thankful he didn’t ask any further questions. “I’ll take you to my truck and get you over to the courthouse. My other officers will make sure all your gear and supplies get there too.”

  Jeena nodded and then glanced at Maazin, who was staring at her with an unreadable expression on his face. She looked away quickly.

  She didn’t want to share that pain with him.

  One for which she had blamed him for so long when it hadn’t been his fault.

  The drive to the courthouse that had been converted into a makeshift hospital didn’t take too long. There wasn’t much flooding and any rubble from the houses near the coast of the island had been cleared away. As had the trees. There were tents and a sort of makeshift shanty village the closer they got to the center of the town where the market was.

  “Thankfully our water supply wasn’t disrupted as it comes from a natural spring and because of our generator we’re also able to have our desalinator up and running,” Mustafa mentioned offhandedly as he drove through the streets.

  “I’m glad. There was a small outbreak of dysentery on the main island that we were able to control,” Maazin said. “I’m glad there is nothing like that here.”

  Jeena was glad too. Something like dysentery or another infectious disease would wreak havoc on the close-knit community of Petrie Island.

  It didn’t take long for them to get to the courthouse.

  “We’re here and I’ll take you right to our most urgent patient, Mr. Patel.” Mustafa parked and Jeena grabbed her duffel bag, which carried an emergency surgery kit. Something she always carried with her when she was going off into disaster zones.

  Maazin followed Mustafa and Jeena followed them.

  The medics had done a great job setting up the makeshift medical center. Jeena was impressed, but right now she wanted to take a look at Mr. Patel.

  “He’s in here. Our paramedic is with him.”

  “Thank you, Mustafa,” Maazin said.

  “Your Highness.” Mustafa bowed.

  Maazin held open the door for Jeena and she walked into the room. She could tell the man was very ill.

  “Your Highness,” the paramedic said with a curtsey.

  “Please, it’s okay. Can you tell us about Mr. Patel?” Maazin asked.

  The paramedic nodded. “Mr. Patel was brought in early this morning. His daughter said he was complaining of lower right quadrant abdominal pain. Upon palpation we noticed he was guarding and his temperature was one hundred and two. He has been unable to pass a bowel movement and his blood test came back with a high count of white blood cells.”

  “So he’s fighting an infection,” Jeena said. She walked over to the bed and examined the patient. Mr Patel was just as she remembered him, slightly older, but he still looked the same.

  “Yes,” the paramedic said. “With antibiotics we’ve managed to bring his temperature down a bit, but it’s rising again.”

  “Without an ultrasound it’s pretty hard to tell if it’s definitely appendicitis,” Jeena said. “But from the description, it’s not dysentery.”

  “There’s no blood or mucus,” the paramedic said. “It was our worry too, but Mr. Patel’s daughter said he’s been drinking bottled water. He’s not a stranger to cyclones and storms.”

  “You’ve done an excellent job here,” Jeena remarked, and she continued her examination. “You wouldn’t happen to have certification in anesthesia, would you?”

  The paramedic’s eyes widened. “No.”

  “I do,”
Maazin said.

  “That’s good, but I do need someone to assist me.”

  “I can help with that. I’m training to be a surgical nurse,” the paramedic said. “It’s just been hard to get to a school, it’s so costly...”

  Jeena understood that only too well. There was no medical school in Kalyana and going abroad was very expensive, which was why her dream of becoming a surgeon hadn’t been realized until she’d been banished and had moved to Canada.

  “What’s your name?” Jeena asked gently.

  “Ayesha.”

  “Well, Ayesha, if you think you have a good handling of surgical instruments I would gladly have you assist me while Prince Maazin does the anesthesia.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Harrak.”

  “Please go prep a sterile room so that we can operate on Mr. Patel immediately.”

  “Of course.” Ayesha left the room and Jeena went straight to her duffel bag to pull out her surgical kit.

  “Are you sure this is wise?” Maazin asked, and she could hear the concern in his voice.

  “If we don’t do it, he won’t survive the trip back to the main island. We have to.”

  “But with a paramedic assisting you?”

  “She was smart enough to set up the IV and take his blood. You heard her, she wants to be an operating room nurse, a scrub nurse, but there’s no little or no support available for her. This is what Sara was talking to me about so earnestly.”

  “I agree more could be done,” Maazin said. “But this is a man’s life.”

  “Exactly. I can do this, you’ll be in the room and Ayesha is more than capable of assisting me.”

  Maazin looked uncertain. “What choice do we have? You’re right. Very well, I’ll be there and we can do this.”

  Jeena touched his arm. “Yes, we can do this.”

  Mr. Patel started to rouse and looked a bit surprised. “Your Highness?”

  Maazin smiled at the man. “Mr. Patel, we’re here to help you.”

  “Help me?” the patient asked, confused.

  “You have appendicitis and Dr. Harrak from Canada and myself are going to take care of you.”

  Mr. Patel nodded and looked over at her. He smiled at her. “I recognize you.”

  Jeena smiled down at him. “I would say so. I saw you every weekend when I was a child.”

  “You are not Canadian,” Mr. Patel said.

  “I am now, but I’m back home to work and to help.”

  Mr. Patel closed his eyes. “Good. Good.”

  Jeena checked his pulse rate, which was racing. “We need to get him into surgery now.”

  If they didn’t, Mr. Patel was going to get peritonitis and die.

  * * *

  Maazin thought that Jeena was foolish thinking about operating on Mr. Patel in a makeshift hospital on the small island of Petrie with a paramedic as her assistant and without ultrasound assistance or other specialized equipment to do the surgery.

  Ayesha had done a great job in prepping a small, well-lit room. Jeena’s instinct was right and Mr. Patel’s appendix was on the verge of rupturing, which would have meant a bad case of peritonitis, and as he was over seventy, his chances for survival in a disaster situation like this would not have been good without surgery.

  Maazin felt bad for wanting to wait to transport him to Huban. He wouldn’t have made that journey.

  Now, here they were in a small courtroom and they were saving a man’s life. Not only that, Jeena was inspiring a young Kalyanese paramedic who had aspirations of doing so much more. Jeena was wonderful. There was no other word to describe it.

  He couldn’t help but smile from behind his surgical mask as he watched her.

  She was so strong and she didn’t even know it.

  Or she hadn’t known it when they’d been together. She had changed. She was fierce and it made him want her all the more.

  You can’t have her.

  And that thought replayed over and over in his mind as he watched Jeena work and explain things to Ayesha as they removed the enflamed appendix and cleaned out the infection from Mr. Patel’s abdomen.

  He was also jealous of Jeena.

  She had more hands-on practical knowledge than he did. Maazin had training and he’d done work in the field, but rarely. His father ruled Maazin’s schedule and there wasn’t much time to really practice medicine or teach it. He may have been a military surgeon, but he didn’t get to practice as much as he’d like to. As much as she obviously did.

  He’d moved away from medicine into politics and diplomacy, something Maazin hated more than anything.

  If he’d not been born into the royal family, if he’d had the same freedom as Jeena, then she would’ve never left Kalyana. They would be together, married, and Syman would know who he was.

  A lump formed in his throat as he thought about Syman. A boy who loved sport as much as he did. Not that he knew anything about ice hockey, but he could learn.

  That’s if Jeena would let him get to know Syman. He was so afraid Jeena wouldn’t let him. She’d offered to talk about him, but he didn’t quite believe she was actually going to tell him about Syman. She was determined to protect their son, and he understood why.

  Maazin lived his life in the spotlight as a member of the royal family. Nothing of his was private. His whole life was on display.

  Even if he did meet his son, he wouldn’t want to burden him with this life. This horrible public life that he couldn’t escape. That he was bound to forever, not only by birth but by his mistakes, which had made him second in line to throne until Farhan had an heir.

  Still, he was a father. There was duty there. He’d never thought of having children, but now he had one he had to do the right thing by him.

  He had to prove to Jeena that he could.

  Do you deserve a second chance?

  No. He didn’t and that thought sobered him up.

  “Now let’s close up,” Jeena remarked.

  “This is an amazing opportunity, Dr. Harrak. Thank you,” Ayesha said.

  “You’re very welcome and thank you for assisting me.”

  “Yes. Thank you, Ayesha,” Maazin said, finally finding his voice.

  “Thank you, Your Highness,” Ayesha said nervously.

  They finished closing up Mr. Patel and Ayesha promised to monitor him post-op so that Jeena and Maazin could go out and assess the rest of the Petrie Island villagers who had been hurt during the cyclone.

  Jeena washed up and disposed of the scrubs and then placed the instruments in a biohazard container that was filled with antiseptic.

  “That’s a handy kit you had,” Maazin commented as he cleaned up.

  “This isn’t my first time heading to a disaster area. Of course, this is my first one out of Canada.”

  “What have you dealt with in Canada?” Maazin asked.

  “Mostly things like accidents or avalanches in the mountains. Sometimes a hiker falls down a cliff and you have to attend out in the field.”

  “Avalanches?” Maazin asked in amazement.

  “Or mudslides. I know Kalyana has had its fair share of those.” She shuddered then and shook her head as if shaking away a bad memory.

  “Why are you shuddering?”

  She sighed. “When I was a child, I was almost swept out to sea by a flash flood during a particularly bad rainstorm. It terrified me, but I’ve overcome that fear. Still, every once in a while when I think about it, the terror comes right back.”

  So that’s why she isn’t fond of water.

  “I’m sure,” Maazin said quietly. He knew exactly what she was talking about. There were times when that accident came back to mind, flooding back, and it sent him into a tailspin. He hated the helpless feeling that came with it.

  He hated being reminded of that horrible night and its aftermath. Ho
w his parents had everything hushed up. People had been paid off and no one knew Maazin had been drunk and fighting with Ali as Ali had been driving during a rainstorm.

  No one knew Maazin was the reason Ali was dead.

  He was the shame of his family.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “I’m fine. And I will help.”

  “I assumed you would,” Jeena teased. “You are a doctor too, Your Highness.”

  “I don’t have as much practice in the field as you.”

  “Aren’t you an army surgeon?” she asked.

  He nodded. “Yes, but royal duties outweighed a lot of my opportunity for really getting out there and saving lives. Though I lend a hand when I can, still it would be nice to have the freedom that you have. I would like to learn more.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “What is?” he asked.

  “That you’re so trapped by that royal title.”

  “It is. I much prefer my medical work and working with people to protocol and diplomacy.”

  She nodded. “Still, with your power you could advocate for change. I admire that power you have to make a real difference.”

  “I can do that. Yes. And I plan to.”

  “You do?” she asked.

  He smiled at her. “I mean, with Sara’s initiative to promote STEM sciences and medical sciences, in particular to women, and to bring a university to Huban. Kalyana needs this. I think you should help her and I will too.”

  Jeena smiled brightly, her lovely dark eyes twinkling with that sparkle he hadn’t seen in so long. “You will?”

  “It’s clear that something needs to be done. You did a wonderful job with Ayesha and you saved Mr. Patel’s life.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Now, let’s go and help some others.”

  “Good idea.” Jeena grabbed her medical kit and they left the small courtroom where they had just operated on Mr. Patel. Maazin sighed and ran his hand through his hair.

  The panic in him was rising and his shoulder twinged where it had been dislocated the night Ali had died, as it always did when he was about to have a full-on panic attack.