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But time had passed now. Time that appeared to have etched a few fine lines into Luke’s forehead, making him seem older and maybe a little more careworn.
‘Hello? Hello? Is someone there?’
Abby jolted from the daydream she’d been hiding in and stared at the phone receiver in her hand. She’d dialled the number automatically without even realising that she’d done it.
‘Hi, David, it’s Abby Tyler here. I’ve got a bit of an obstetric emergency. I wondered if you would mind coming in for a consult?’
A smile danced across her lips as she listened to the voice at the end of the phone. She could sense Luke’s eyes on her, willing her not to say anything that would reveal the identity of their patient.
‘Ten minutes would be great. Thanks, David.’
She replaced the phone and grinned. ‘That’s our emergency obstetrician. He’ll be here soon.’
Luke leaned back against the nearby wall and folded his arms across his wide chest. His brow furrowed suspiciously. ‘Why do I get the feeling you’re not telling me something, Abby?’
She shook her head and winked at him. ‘You’ll see.’
A wave of fear swept across Luke’s chest. ‘No funny stuff, Abby. He’s definitely an obstetrician?’
‘Oh, yes, he’s definitely an obstetrician.’ One of the nearby nurse practitioners walked up quickly and touched Luke’s arm.
‘Dr Storm?’
He nodded swiftly.
‘We’ll be set up for you in the next ten minutes, I’m just going to get the patient.’ She nodded towards Abby. ‘Dr Tyler will tell you where we are.’ She carried on down the corridor and into the trauma room to collect Dr Blair.
‘Some things never change.’ Abby surveyed the surrounding chaos around her. Her once peaceful emergency department looked as if it had been invaded by a black-suited army.
‘What?’ Luke glanced around him.
‘Storm by name, Storm by nature.’
‘You know I hate it when you say that.’
‘That makes it all the more fun.’ She watched as one black-suited man talked into his jacket lapel, while holding his finger to his ear, as if listening for a reply. She raised her eyebrow at Luke. ‘We still have a problem here, Luke.’
‘What do you mean?’ The last thing he needed was more problems.
‘I’m a paediatrician. I do children—kids.’ She wiggled her hand in the air. ‘I do some babies but certainly not early babies. Not neonates. We might have an obstetrician but what we really need is a neonatologist. And I’m not that.’ She shook her head. ‘This really isn’t my specialty.’
Luke folded his arms across his chest. ‘I’ve never known you to run from a challenge.’
Abby waved her hand around her. ‘In an emergency situation I could probably muddle through. But if the baby needs supported ventilation then we just don’t have the facilities, and this is the President’s baby, Luke.’
‘I know that.’ He ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. ‘Well, what the hell are you doing here? Mendocino Valley, of all places?’ His arm swept outwards across the expanse of the department.
Abby was instantly irritated. ‘What do you mean by that?’
Luke tilted his head. ‘Last time I saw you, you had just been offered the job of a lifetime in San Francisco. Five years later I find you here, in some backwater clinic in the middle of nowhere. What happened, Abby?’
Abby shook her head and carefully closed the notes in front of her, bringing them up and clutching them to her chest. ‘Just shows how little you really knew me, Luke. It might well have been the job of a lifetime, but it wasn’t my job of a lifetime. You happened, Luke. You made me re-evaluate my life. And even though I didn’t think it at the time, you probably did me a favour. I love being here in Mendocino Valley. I do still work in San Francisco, but I only took the job because it means I can work here, in Pelican Cove, for twelve weeks a year. This is where I want to be.’
Luke’s cool eyes watched her carefully, a wave of guilt sweeping over him. For the second time in five minutes he wondered what she wasn’t telling him. She was holding the case notes to her chest as if she were protecting a closely guarded secret. The Abby Tyler he’d known had had the world at her feet. She’d been approached by three prestigious university hospitals to take part in their paediatric residency programmes. She’d been dedicated and focused. Something about this wasn’t quite right. Why would the woman who’d been top of her class and had had the pick of any job be working in a backwater place like this?
CHAPTER TWO
ABBY watched with a sinking feeling in her heart as the nitrazine paper turned the tell-tale shade of blue. She raised her head and gave Jennifer a rueful smile as she showed her the paper. ‘Well, I think we can safely say that your membranes have ruptured.’
‘They have?’
‘Yes. This paper turns blue when it comes into contact with amniotic fluid.’
Jennifer blew out a long, slow breath from her pursed lips. ‘It’s too early. What happens now?’
Abby snapped off her gloves, walking quickly to the sink to wash her hands. She finished and sat down at the side of the bed next to Jennifer, trying to work out what to tell her.
‘It won’t really be up to me, it will be up to Dr Fairgreaves—the obstetrician that’s coming to see you. I just needed to confirm your membranes had ruptured so I can give him the whole picture.’
‘Do you need to examine me any further?’ Jennifer gave a little grimace and Abby knew exactly what she meant.
She shook her head. ‘No, actually, that wouldn’t be a good idea right now. Ideally what we want to do right now is to delay you going into labour for as long as possible.’
‘Tell it to me straight, Dr Tyler.’
Abby leaned over and held Jennifer’s hand. ‘There are a number of things for Dr Fairgreaves to consider.’ She held up the buff-coloured folder. ‘From your notes I see that you’re currently 31 weeks and 4 days. He may decide to give you some steroids to help mature your baby’s lungs in case of early delivery. He might also decide to give you some antibiotics to help prevent infection.’
‘Am I going to deliver early?’
Abby shook her head. ‘I’m not really qualified to tell you that. I do know that about 80 per cent of women whose membranes rupture go into labour within four days.’
Jennifer took a deep breath and her hands rested automatically on her swollen abdomen. ‘What are my baby’s chances?’
Abby shook her head. ‘We’ll talk about that when Dr Fairgreaves gets here. I want to hear what his professional opinion is before we start leaping to any conclusions. From right now, though, you’re on strict bed rest.’
Jennifer threw up her hands in frustration. ‘But I’ve already been on bed rest!’
Abby raised one eyebrow. ‘Have you?’
Jennifer watched her carefully before finally answering, ‘Well, maybe not complete bed rest.’
‘We need to monitor your baby for any signs of distress and monitor you for any sign of infection.’ She hesitated a little before continuing, ‘It might also be advisable to move you to a hospital with better facilities for pre-term babies.’
Jennifer looked deep in thought and bit her bottom lip. ‘Where would that be?’
‘The nearest is San Francisco Children’s Hospital. They have a special ICU for premature deliveries.’
‘No.’
The voice was clear and decisive and took Abby completely by surprise.
‘What?’
Jennifer folded her arms firmly across her chest. ‘I’m staying here.’
Abby shook her head in disbelief. ‘Why on earth would you want to stay here?’
‘Wouldn’t moving me be dangerous?’
Abby shifted uncomfortably. Jennifer’s sharp retort unnerved her. In an instant she was in a witness box and being cross-examined by the more-than-capable lawyer. This wasn’t her specialty and she was beginning to feel at little out of her depth. ‘This is a conversation you need to have with your obstetrician.’
‘Oh.’
This response was different. Quiet and unsure. She’d gone from being a feisty lawyer to an imminent first-time mom in a matter of seconds. This woman was more scared than she was letting on.
‘What’s he like?’ Jennifer ran her fingers through her uncombed hair. ‘Your obstetrician.’ She hesitated for a second. ‘Is he good?’
Abby gave her a little smile. ‘Officially he’s retired. But in answer to your question he’s better than good—he’s great.’ She was interrupted by a heavy knock at the door.
‘Abby…Dr Tyler, can I see you please?’
Abby could hear the anxiety in Luke’s voice. She gave Jennifer a smile, picked up the notes and headed to the door. ‘I’ll be back in a few minutes.’
She pulled a pen from her pocket as she opened the door. She wanted to make sure she’d recorded everything perfectly. With her head in the notes she walked straight into Luke’s broad chest.
‘Ow! Luke, what are you doing?’
Luke shook his head and pointed sideways in exasperation. ‘Please tell me that isn’t your obstetrician.’
Abby followed to where his finger was pointing to a small dishevelled character dressed from head to toe in fishing gear, with an upright fishing rod perched precariously in his hand. He was surrounded on all sides by men in black suits and was protesting loudly, ‘Who the hell are you lot?’
Abby’s face broke into a wide smile. ‘It certainly is,’ she said as she shouldered her way past the security detail. ‘Dr Fairgreaves, I’m so glad you’re here.’ She wrapped him in a warm embrace and pulled him to one side. ‘We need to have a private chat about our patient.’
She handed him the buff-coloured folder and watched as he ran his eyes over the presidential seal on the bottom corner of the notes. His eyes narrowed. ‘Who’s this?’ He gestured in frustration as a figure appeared at Abby’s side.
Luke. ‘I was just about to ask you the same question,’ he muttered under his breath.
‘I might be old, son, but there’s nothing wrong with my hearing.’
‘Well, do you always come to work looking like this?’ Luke gestured towards the fishing gear.
‘Son, I try not to come to work at all if I can help it. I’m retired.’
‘You’re retired?’ Luke’s voice rose in pitch.
Abby cleared her throat loudly before the conversation got out of hand. ‘Luke, I’d like you to meet Dr David Fairgreaves, our honorary obstetrician, and, David, I’d like you to meet Dr Luke Storm, he’s a cardiologist from Washington who brought the First Lady in.’
David’s brow furrowed in confusion. ‘Why the hell is a cardiologist bringing a pregnant lady to hospital?’
Abby smiled. In an instant she wasn’t the First Lady any more, she was simply an expectant mother, like any other. She loved that about David Fairgreaves—even though he’d been pursued by many dignitaries and celebrities for his services, he never wasted time on pomp and ceremony. His patients were just that, his patients.
Abby slid her arm around David Fairgreaves’s shoulders, ‘Her own obstetrician is currently having an MI—Luke is about to treat him.’
David stared at Luke for a moment before finally grunting, ‘Fine, then.’ He sat down and started reading the notes.
Luke stood frozen to the spot. ‘David Fairgreaves? The David Fairgreaves?’
Abby nodded in recognition of the man who was famous all over America for his ground-breaking work. He’d received numerous awards for pioneering the procedure to retrieve stem cells from the umbilical cord. Something that seemed almost commonplace now, but at the time had been a real revolutionary leap of faith. He’d done that while continuing to work as an obstetrician and was known as one of the best in America.
Luke groaned. ‘This is turning into a bad TV show. What on earth is David Fairgreaves doing here?’
‘You mean in this backwater place?’ She couldn’t help the sarcasm that crept into her voice. Then, seeing the expression on his face, Abby sneaked her hand around his waist and gave him a quick hug. Luke’s stress levels seemed to be going through the roof. The warmth of his body immediately poured through her skin. She raised her head up towards his and smiled. ‘Fishing.’
‘What?’ Luke looked totally bewildered.
She shrugged her shoulders. ‘He’s got a fishing boat in Pelican Cove, and now he’s retired he spends half the year here. We have an informal arrangement together that I can call him out for any obstetric emergencies and he loves it.’
Luke studied the man in the rumpled clothes sitting in the chair in front of him. ‘He looks about a hundred and ten,’ he whispered.
‘Well, he’s not quite that old,’ she whispered back, ‘and he’s as sharp as a tack so don’t annoy him.’
Luke looked as if he could spontaneously combust at any second. Abby pulled her arm from his waist and turned to face him, taking both his hands in hers.
‘Look on the bright side, Luke. If someone had asked you to pick any doctor in the world to deliver the President’s pre-term baby, who would you have picked?’
She watched as the significance of her words began to sink in. The deep wrinkles in Luke’s forehead began to soften. ‘I guess you’re right,’ he said.
‘You know I am.’ She lifted herself up on her tip toes and kissed the tip of his nose. ‘Now, go and deal with your MI. I’ll come and find you if there’s any problems.’
He nodded, still lost in thought, before taking a deep breath and pulling his hands from hers. ‘Okay,’ he murmured as he turned and started to head off down the corridor.
Abby watched for a second. Her lips felt as if they were on fire. A thousand little pins were prickling them, leaving them alive with sensation after touching his skin.
‘Dr Tyler?’
Abby started at the deep voice behind her.
‘Yes?’
‘I’m James Turner.’ He held out his hand towards her. ‘I’m in charge of the protective detail for the First Lady.’
Abby nodded silently. The craggy-faced man from earlier. He was a large, imposing fellow with a small scar that snaked across the bridge of his nose. Her mind exploded with a thousand possibilities as to how it had got there, before his intense gaze jerked her back into focus. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘What can I do for you, Mr Turner?’
‘This is your department?’ It didn’t sound like a question coming from his lips, more like a statement.
‘Yes, it is.’
‘Well, sorry, ma’am, but I need to close your emergency department down.’
‘What?’ Abby’s screech of disbelief echoed around the building. ‘You most certainly will not. I won’t let you. You don’t have the authority to do that…’
He silenced her by holding his hand up directly in front of her face.
‘I do have the authority. As of now, your department is closed. I also need access to all your personnel files.’
‘What?’ This was just going from bad to worse. He wanted to close her department and then spend the day looking at files?
‘I need to have access to everyone’s history. We need to run security checks on everyone in the building.’
‘You want to do what? No! You can’t do that!’
‘Yes, yes, I can. And I will.’ His broad hand had caught her arm to stop her gesticulating wildly. ‘Nothing is more important than the safety and security of the First Lady.’
Abby took a deep breath. ‘Look, Mr Turner, while I appreciate you have a job to do—so do I. This is a small community.’ She waved her arm around the department. ‘I know every single member of staff here. None of them are a risk to the First Lady’s safety or security. I can personally vouch for them all.’
‘That’s very nice, Dr Tyler.’ He shot her a white-toothed, crooked grin. ‘But it’s not going to cut it. We’ll run our own checks on everyone here.’ He glanced around the bustling department. ‘And we’re going to have to restrict the number of staff.’
Abby shook her head. ‘This is a community hospital, Mr Turner. We serve a widespread population that doesn’t have easy access to emergency facilities. If you close us down, the nearest emergency unit is 50 miles away. If there’s an accident at one of the nearby saw mills, or at the harbour, that travel time could cost the life of a patient. We also have links with a special-needs school near here—Parkside. We often have children brought in with breathing or feeding difficulties—taking them somewhere else would cause immense difficulties.’
She glanced towards the white board, which only showed three patients in the department at the moment—two of whom were with James Turner. ‘We’re not normally this quiet.’ Her mind was spinning with endless possibilities. ‘I know this isn’t an ideal situation but the most realistic solution is to move Jennifer Taylor to one of the ward areas once Dr Fairgreaves has examined her. If she’s out of the emergency department, do you really have to close us down?’ Abby couldn’t keep the pleading sound out of her voice. She just couldn’t turn patients away, not when they needed her. ‘I’ll let you see the personnel records if you want—just let me check with the hospital administrator. You’re not going to find anything anyway, but please don’t close down the emergency department.’
‘Do you have floor plans for the hospital?’
He hadn’t moved a muscle. Abby was sure he hadn’t even blinked.
‘What? Yes…yes, I think so.’ She pointed over his shoulder. ‘They’ll be in the hospital administrator’s office.’
‘I’ll get back to you, Dr Tyler.’ He turned swiftly on his heel and stalked off in the direction of the nearby office.
Abby leaned back against the nearby wall and breathed a huge sigh of relief. There was only one other patient in the department right now. Dr Fairgreaves was dealing with Jennifer Taylor. She’d need to wait and see what his recommendations would be. She glanced at her watch and stared up the corridor. She could almost feel the invisible pull. Luke was up there. Probably performing an angioplasty. It had been years since she’d seen him at work. Maybe it was time to go and offer some moral support?
* * *
Luke’s head was spinning. He pushed open the door to the changing room with unexpected venom and started as it thumped off the wall. The First Lady was going to have her baby. Her obstetrician had had an MI. The new obstetrician looked like a tramp but had the credentials of a king. And they were stuck in some backwater part of Mendocino Valley. Stuck with Abby Tyler. He couldn’t have made this up.
He tugged at his red tie and undid the buttons on his shirt, stuffing them in a nearby empty locker. Behind him he found a variety of sizes of theatre scrubs and pulled the familiar clothing over his head.
And she’d kissed him. The lightest kiss, as if a feather had brushed the tip of his nose, and it had sent his blood soaring through his veins as if a rocket had just taken off. What on earth was happening? They’d laughed through their medical training together, stressed through their exams, but spent most of their time in each other’s arms. And for a while he had never been happier. The dark cloud that had hung over his head since his brother had died had finally lifted. He’d met the woman of his dreams. The woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Until she’d started to talk about the future. Their future. A future that involved them having a family. And the dark cloud had appeared again, nestling around his head and shoulders until it had completely enveloped him.
They had been midway through their specialist training by then—he in cardiology, she in paediatrics. And he’d begun to see her in a completely different light. Whenever she’d spoken about the kids, even the ones with terrible outcomes, she’d had a sparkle in her eyes. On the few occasions he’d gone to pick her up from the ward, he’d never found her stuck in an office with her head in the notes—no, she had always been right in the middle of things, leading the games in the middle of the ward, usually with a child under each arm.
He’d seen a few of his friends start to flourish when they’d commenced their specialty, becoming more animated and enthusiastic when they’d spoken about their work. But Abby had truly blossomed. She had excelled at her job and hadn’t hidden her thrill at finally specialising in paediatrics. And after years of study that’s when she’d started to plan ahead. To plan for a family. A family he could never have. And that’s when he’d broken her heart. That’s when he told her he was infertile—an unfortunate complication of teenage mumps.
There had been so many other things going on in his life at the time, and although he had known it was important, he hadn’t taken the time or had the maturity to understand the wider implications—that one day he would meet the woman of his dreams and she would want a family. A family he couldn’t give her.
Maybe it was his fault? Maybe he should have told her right from the beginning that he couldn’t have kids. But then again, it wasn’t your everyday normal topic of conversation. But three years into their relationship—when he’d started to see the signs—he’d sat her down and told her.
To give her her due, Abby had made all the right noises, told him it didn’t matter, that she loved him and that they would find a way to have a family together. But for Luke it had been the death knell of their relationship.
From the moment he’d heard the word ‘infertile’ he’d blocked out all thoughts of a family. Surely there was a hidden message there? If he couldn’t have kids naturally, maybe he wasn’t meant to have kids?
She’d talked about donor sperm, adoption, other possibilities—but he hadn’t wanted to think about those options. Truth was he wasn’t ready to consider those options as he hadn’t really faced up to his infertility yet. So he’d shut himself off from those conversations and had point-blank refused to consider any possibilities.
Every time after that he’d looked at Abby, he’d felt as if he was cheating her. Cheating her out of the opportunity to be a mother.
Five years they’d been together but they’d slowly, but surely, drifted apart.
The door on the other side leading into the theatre swung open. ‘Dr Storm?’ A pretty Asian woman looked at him, her dark hair poking out from under a theatre cap. He nodded.
She stuck out her hand. ‘Good, I’m Dr Lydia King. Abby sent me along to assist you.’ He gave her a little nod in recognition as he shook her hand and she backed out the door again. ‘I’ll just check on the patient and see you in there.’
A wave of anticipation swept over Luke as he pushed open the doors and entered the cardiac cath lab, quickly followed by a wave of nausea, most likely because he hadn’t had a chance to eat yet today. He glanced about him quickly, taking in the layout and equipment available. One of the NPs appeared at his side. ‘We’re all set up for you.’ She pointed in the direction of the sinks. ‘You can scrub up over there and I’ll gown you up. Would you like to come over and speak to Dr Blair first?’
Luke gave her a quick smile. ‘Of course I would.’ It only took three strides to cross over to where Dr Blair was lying on the table, monitors attached, pale and sweaty. ‘How’s Jennifer?’ he gasped.
Luke gave him a quick pat on the shoulder. ‘She’s just being examined now by one of the obstetricians but she’s doing fine. Let’s worry about you first.’
He watched the rapid, shallow breaths. ‘Let me explain the procedure to you.’
Dr Blair waved his hand in the air. ‘Son, don’t teach an old dog new tricks, just stick the thing in and get this blockage cleared. I feel as if a train is sitting on my chest,’ he wheezed.
Luke nodded. ‘Give me a few minutes while I scrub up and I’ll talk to you while we’re doing the procedure.’ He cast his eyes over one of the nearby monitors. ‘Can Dr Blair have some oxygen, please?’
The NP nodded before pulling a mask over Dr Blair’s head. She followed Luke over to the sink and waited while he scrubbed up. The door open and he turned as Abby came in.
‘Hi, Luke. You don’t mind a spectator, do you? I don’t get the chance to come in here much.’
Luke shook his head and shot her a gleaming smile from beneath his blue theatre hat. ‘Of course I don’t, Abby, you’re welcome in my cath lab any time.’