Читать книгу The Doctor's Unexpected Proposal - Алисон Робертс - Страница 8

HE WAS nothing short of a genius.

If he’d spent a week planning some way of bringing a smile back to Emily Morgan’s face, Mike couldn’t have done better than scooping her up and flying her off in his helicopter. And he hadn’t had to plan it at all. It had just fallen into his lap.

OK, he’d had to do a bit of fast talking to cut the crew numbers for this rescue mission but he could be very persuasive when he wanted to be. He’d taken the line that he and Emily could manage perfectly well. He had advanced paramedic training to go with his considerable experience as a pilot, so they were a perfect team. Why pull anyone else away from the beach party when they deserved the time out after the wringer they’d all been through in the last few days, thanks to the shortage of medical staff and a surplus of major cases?

Charles had known what Mike was up to, of course. He could see that he wanted some time alone with Emily to try and cheer her up. Maybe he even knew some things that Mike had been confident he’d kept very well hidden. There wasn’t much that went on in or around Crocodile Creek base hospital that Charles didn’t know about.

Not that it mattered. Charles had approved, and convincing Emily had been a cinch given that her fear of getting into the chopper outweighed any other concerns.

She’d done it, though, hadn’t she? With a quick glance to his left, Mike stopped feeling proud of himself and felt proud of Emily instead. You’d never think it to look at her—she wouldn’t look out of place behind an information desk in an academic library or some other such serious place—but she was gutsy all right.

Emily had seen him looking, so Mike did what came automatically and smiled at her.

‘OK, babe?’

She nodded but bent her head again quickly to stare through the small Perspex panel near her feet. ‘It’s really different from being in a plane, isn’t it? You can see so much more.’

‘Bird’s-eye view.’ Mike was relieved that Emily had remembered not to shout this time. She was a quick learner as well as gutsy.

Moonlight bathed the outside world and visibility was great—with a ghostly but rather beautiful bleached effect. They were already past the sugar-cane plantations that surrounded the township of Crocodile Creek and over the foothills of rainforest-clad mountains now. The dense vegetation had been cleared in patches, and banana trees added to the tropical appearance of a landscape that Mike had grown up in and still loved with a passion.

Checking his instruments, he banked to follow the main road that snaked towards the pass leading to the arid cattle country on the other side of the mountains. Emily squeaked softly and Mike could see her fingers sinking into the upholstery of her seat as the aircraft banked.

‘Don’t worry,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I’m not planning any aerobatics.’

‘Aren’t we going over the mountains? Like the plane does?’

‘Can if you want to, but the view’s better this way.’

Grey-blue eyes were looking distinctly anxious again. ‘This thing can go high enough to get over the mountains, can’t it? If the weather gets bad or something?’

‘This is an MBB-Kawasaki BK-117,’ Mike informed her with an air of injured pride. ‘State-of-the-art rescue chopper. We’ve got a ceiling of 10,000 feet, a range of 338 miles with standard tankage, maximum speed of 174 miles per hour and a maximum climb rate of over 1700 feet per minute.’

‘Oh.’ Emily looked as though she was trying to do several mathematical calculations simultaneously. Her face brightened. ‘That’s OK, then, isn’t it?’

‘Yep.’ Mike couldn’t resist teasing her just a little. ‘We’ve got a thirty million candle-power nightsun, too. I can turn it on any time so you don’t need to be scared of the dark.’

Emily snorted indignantly. ‘You’re the one who goes round spitting to ward off the evil eye, mate.’ She watched Mike adjust a control on the panel that sat between them. ‘Just out of idle curiosity, did you go round spitting on your helicopters when you were a member of that crack platoon or squadron or whatever you call them in the Special Air Services?’

‘Sure did.’

‘And what did your army buddies think about that?’

Mike kept a straight face. ‘I suspect that anyone in the regiment that doesn’t spit for luck now gets left on the ground.’

‘Very unhygienic.’

‘Didn’t stop you doing it.’

‘No.’ He could hear the smile in her voice. ‘Well, sometimes you need a bit of luck.’ She was silent for a few seconds and then her tone became very wry. ‘Maybe I should spit on the next man to ask me out on a date.’

‘I wouldn’t advise it.’ It was hard to keep his own tone light. ‘Unless he’s Greek, of course.’

Dammit, Emily was thinking about Simon bloody Kent again. Mike’s fingers curled more tightly around the control stick. The man had better not show his face in Crocodile Creek again, that was for sure. He’d never been good enough for Emily, anyone could have seen that, but she’d fallen for him and if the others had shared Mike’s reservations, seeing the sparkle that emanated from the quiet young physician had been more than enough to stop them saying anything.

Mike decided he needed to distract Emily from her thoughts. ‘Sounds like that young girl must be pretty sick to collapse like that.’

‘She may have just had a spell of low blood pressure. If she’s been unwell and lying in bed for a few days without adequate food or fluid intake, she could well have fainted by standing up too quickly.’

‘Her father sounded pretty anxious.’

‘Charles will have stayed in contact with him. He’ll call us if there’s any significant change.’

Emily fell silent as she watched the set of instruments on her side of the dashboard.

‘What’s that?’

‘Airspeed. In knots.’

‘And that one?’

‘Artificial horizon. Gives us our position in relation to the real horizon.’

He kept answering the queries as Emily discovered the fuel gauge, engine temperature, altitude and vertical speed indicators.

Now Emily was leaning towards him to examine the rest of the dials. ‘They’re exactly the same as the others!’

‘It’s a twin-engined craft. It would be possible to fit a second set of controls and have two pilots so there’s a duplicate set of instruments. Hey, maybe you should get your helicopter pilot’s licence.’

Emily laughed. ‘Not in this lifetime, mate.’

At least she wasn’t thinking about Simon the rat any more.

It had lasted for months, that sparkle. If it hadn’t still been there when Marcella had ended her engagement to Mike and stormed off back to her native Italy six months after their arrival in Crocodile Creek, he would have…

Would have what?

Told Emily just how special he thought she was? That her living in and loving his home town had made an appearance on the list of why he hadn’t given in to Marcella’s ultimatum and left Crocodile Creek for ever?

Not likely.

Not when his ego had actually been rather dented by Marcella having dumped of him. Or when he’d never had a hint of anything more than friendship being available from Emily. And especially not when she was obviously still in love with Simon the cardiologist, whom she couldn’t see had no respect for hearts other than in their pumping capacity.

Not many people knew just how patient he was capable of being, however. Or how highly he prized his friendships. However hard it was right now, he was not going to jeopardise a friendship or risk something even bigger by moving too fast. Or by telling Emily just how much better off she was without Simon in her life.

And it was hard. As hard as it had been to watch that sparkle dimming and tendrils of unhappiness infiltrate Emily’s life over the last twelve months. She’d tried so hard to make the relationship work and Mike had been sorely tempted on more than one occasion to take her in his arms and tell her that Simon simply wasn’t worth the effort.

Thank goodness he had trusted his instincts and left things to travel naturally to their inevitable conclusion. Emily needed to work things out for herself. To see what was staring her in the face and decide whether or not she wanted it.

All Mike could do right now was to be there.

And to be patient.

The moonlight was even brighter as they neared their destination and it was quite light enough to appreciate the oasis that Wetherby Downs cattle station represented. The number of outbuildings and a cluster of what had to be staff accommodation made the hub of the station seem like a small village. A huge, majestic old homestead sat well to one side, isolated by a ring of irrigated lawns and gardens.

‘Wow, look at that!’ Emily breathed. ‘Almost medieval, isn’t it? The big manor-house and all the peasant cottages. This is where Charles grew up, isn’t it?’

‘Yeah.’ Mike hovered for a moment, looking past the homestead. ‘There’s the airfield.’

‘His younger brother runs the station now, doesn’t he?’

‘Philip,’ Mike confirmed.

‘And he’s married?’

‘To Lynley. Couple of teenage girls who go to boarding school down south.’

‘Charles never talks about them.’

‘No.’ Mike clearly needed to concentrate as he brought the helicopter down close to a floodlit area where a rangy stockman was standing beside a series of fuel tanks.

Emily needed to distract herself from the landing process.

‘Did it have something to do with his accident?’ she wondered aloud. ‘Was it a disappointment to his family that he couldn’t take over running the station because he was in a wheelchair?’

‘Dunno.’ Mike reached overhead to ease the throttle control back and the engine noise abated as the rotors began to slow. ‘I was just a kid when it happened. I do remember seeing old man Wetherby in town once or twice, though. He was pretty intimidating. He had a reputation for being pretty rough. On his family as well as the blokes who worked for him.’ He unclipped his harness. ‘I’ll get on with the refuelling. Shouldn’t take long.’

The helicopter felt strangely empty without Mike so Emily climbed out a minute later.

‘This is Wayne,’ Mike told her. ‘He’s the station manager for Wetherby Downs.’

‘Gidday.’ Wayne pushed the brim of his hat up and held out his hand. Emily winced inwardly at the firm grip. ‘Long way for you guys to get hauled out in a chopper. How far have you still got to go?’

‘We’re headed for Cooper’s Crossing,’ Emily said. ‘Next door, isn’t it?’

‘Been an accident?’

‘No.’ There was something weird about his tone, Emily thought. About the place in general, actually. This was Charles Wetherby’s family station but he wanted nothing to do with it. The Coopers were neighbours in an area of country that was so vast people depended on their neighbours for support, but clearly they hadn’t been in touch and Wayne sounded…disinterested.

‘Be Jim, then,’ the stockman decided. ‘Can’t say I’m surprised. Another heart attack, I s’pose?’

‘No.’ But Emily remembered how panicked the girl’s father had sounded on the radio. If Jim Cooper had a heart condition they might find themselves with more than one patient to care for. Some more information could well be useful. ‘Is he not well at the moment?’

‘Almost didn’t recognise him when I copped sight of him at the rodeo a few days ago. Looked like death warmed up.’ Wayne was watching the gauges on the fuel tank. ‘Thirsty beast, isn’t it?’

‘She’ll be pretty empty,’ Mike told him. ‘Auxillary tank holds over 100 litres and the internal one takes 380.’

‘Nice-looking bird.’ Wayne’s hat tipped further back as he admired the aircraft.

‘Yeah.’ Mike looked as proud as a new father and quite happy to embark on a conversation regarding the helicopter’s attributes but Emily cleared her throat.

‘When did Jim have the heart attack, Wayne?’

‘Fair while back now. Maybe two or three years ago?’ The hat had resumed its original position so Emily couldn’t read the man’s expression. She was startled when he turned his head and spat rather emphatically onto the dusty ground. ‘He should have sold up years ago. Farm’s been ruined now.’

‘Has it?’ Emily caught Mike’s glance briefly and he raised an eyebrow. There was no evil eye to ward off here.

Or was there?

‘We’ve lost some good stock because they won’t do their share of the fencing.’ Wetherby Downs’ station manager sounded disgusted. And there was that trouble around Christmastime when one of the lads apparently took a shine to that Cooper girl. But never mind. The bank’s going to sort it out before long, from what I’ve heard.’

A loud ding from the fuel tank seemed to signal a halt to any gossip. Wayne spat into the dust again and then turned away to coil the fuel pipe and hang it up. ‘That should do you,’ he said dismissively.

‘What did you make of all that?’ Mike queried as soon as they were airborne again.

‘There’s some bad blood around here. I think we might need to check Jim out as well as his daughter.’

‘You could be right.’

‘I don’t think Wayne’s Greek either.’ The instant smile from Mike was well worth the attempt at humour. ‘That was no token spitting.’

‘No…but look down there. He’s got a point about the fences.’

They both fell silent as they flew over the Coopers’ station. The moonlight could not conceal how rundown the property was. If anything, it accentuated an almost desperate atmosphere. Some fences were broken, the land looked as though it was suffering a permanent drought and the cattle they could see looked ill-nourished and lethargic.

The station homestead was only the size of one of Wetherby Downs’ many staff dwellings. The roofing iron was rusty, the paint peeling and the only decoration in the immediate vicinity was a tired-looking chicken coop and a clothesline with several limp garments attached to it.

Mike turned on the powerful light beneath the helicopter as they came in to land and Emily could see a woman struggling to latch a gate behind several cattle. She was looking up at them, her expression a mixture of surprise and dread, and the tail end of the blast from the rotors whipped strands of hair across her face.

Inadequate-looking repairs had been made with rope and sheets of corrugated iron to a section of the fence beside the gate, and Mike didn’t look happy.

‘Let’s just hope that lot holds until we can take off again. I don’t fancy getting stuck out here thanks to getting a cow tangled up in our rotors.’

Emily was thinking about the woman as the skids made gentle contact with the almost bare earth of the paddock.

‘I don’t think she was expecting us,’ she said. ‘She doesn’t look very happy.’

‘No.’ Mike shut down the engine and pulled his helmet off. ‘Why don’t you grab the kit from the back and I’ll go and talk to her?’

He had opened the clamshell door at the back of the chopper by the time the woman had run across the paddock.

‘I’m Mike Poulos,’ Emily heard him say. ‘From the Air Medical Service.’

‘But what are you doing here?’

‘We got called a couple of hours ago now. Are you Mrs Cooper?’

‘I’m Honey.’ The woman was out of breath but wasn’t going to be distracted by introductions. Her face creased into deep lines of anxiety and she shoved long strands of grey hair behind her ears. ‘I’ve been out trying to move the cattle and fix the damned fences again.’ The glance she cast over her shoulder towards the house was almost fearful. ‘Why didn’t she call me? It’s Jim, isn’t it? It’s his heart. I should never have left them alone…’

‘It was Jim who made the call, Mrs Cooper. It’s Megan who’s unwell, apparently.’

But Honey Cooper wasn’t listening. She was running towards the house.

Emily caught Mike’s hand as he reached to help her scramble from the back of the helicopter. He took the large pack containing their medical supplies in his other hand and then they were both running to catch up with the distressed Mrs Cooper. Mike hadn’t let go of Emily’s hand, though.

She liked that.

Honey stopped by the steps leading to a narrow veranda that wrapped around three sides of the house. The pause in her headlong flight was so abrupt that Mike and Emily narrowly missed cannoning into her.

Emily pulled her hand free from Mike’s and touched Honey on the arm. ‘Are you all right, Mrs Cooper?’ She smiled. ‘Can I call you Honey?’

She nodded, gulping in air and blinking hard. ‘I’m…scared to go inside,’ she admitted. ‘What if Jim’s…?’

‘Jim sounded fine when he called us, Honey.’ Mike’s voice was calm. Reassuring. ‘It was Megan he was worried about.’

But Honey did not seemed reassured by this information. If anything, she looked even more alarmed.

‘What? Megan? What did he say? What’s Megan told him?’ She pulled away from Emily’s touch and almost stumbled up the steps in her haste. ‘But it’s only flu. She said she was feeling better today. I told Jim that.’ The words were tumbling out as Honey reached for the door. ‘You’d better come in anyway, now that you’re here, but Jim gets too worried about things.’ She opened the door. ‘It’ll be the death of him one of these days.’

Emily glanced back at Mike as she climbed the steps but he looked just as puzzled. Why did Honey seem frightened? Just who was their patient going to be here, and was the situation anywhere near urgent enough to have summoned a rescue helicopter across hundreds of miles?

The furnishings of the small house were faded, the floors bare, and there was no sign of a television or music centre or anything else that might add comfort to an isolated lifestyle. That the house was so immaculately clean and tidy somehow added to the sad feeling it engendered.

Emily followed Mrs Cooper from the living area into a narrow hallway that led towards her daughter’s bedroom. The struggle this family was having had undoubtedly been going on for a long time. The house seemed to have absorbed some of its inhabitants’ weariness and it felt like they were only a very small step away from giving up.

They were clinging to something, however—this small family. Seeing the way Honey rushed to the side of the small, wiry man waiting near the last doorway in the hall and the way he reached out to take her hands, Emily could sense the bond between this couple. A belief that, no matter how bad things got, they would make it through simply because they still had each other.

‘Jim! What on earth’s happened?’

‘It’s all right, Hon, don’t panic. I’m sorry—I thought you’d be back long before the medics got here. I went out to look for you but I ran out of puff.’

‘I was right over by the creek. The cattle had broken through the fence there, too. They’re desperate for feed, poor things. What’s wrong with Megan?’

‘I dunno. She doesn’t seem so bad now.’ Jim turned an apologetic gaze towards Mike. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve probably called you out all this way for nothing.’

‘We’d much rather get called out and find it’s not serious than the other way round,’ Mike assured him. ‘But seeing as we’re here now, how ’bout we check Megan out?’

And Jim, Emily thought as she moved after them. She wasn’t surprised he’d ‘run out of puff’ if he’d gone looking for his wife. He looked as though he could well be in some degree of heart failure or respiratory distress from other causes. There was a nasty grey tinge to his skin and Emily did not need a stethoscope to hear the harsh sounds his breathing was making.

The girl in the bed looked even more taken aback to see the AMS crew arrive than her mother had, and it seemed to be more than an unwelcome surprise. It verged on being a last straw. There was no sense of the strength her parents gained from each other. Megan looked as though she didn’t have any desire to fight anything and Emily was struck by the air of hopelessness. She was, what, nineteen years old? It was far too young to have given up.

Megan turned her face away from the strangers invading her bedroom. ‘I’m fine,’ she said tonelessly. ‘Go away. I told Dad not to call any doctors.’

‘You weren’t fine when I called,’ Jim reminded her. ‘You fainted, remember? And you’ve been shivering fit to bust on and off ever since, even in your sleep.’

Mike crouched beside the girl. He reached out and touched his fingers to her cheek.

‘Hey.’

The tone was so gentle, and the following silence so patient, that Megan slowly turned her head inch by inch until she could see the man who had spoken. Then she received one of his most charming smiles.

‘I’m Mike,’ he introduced himself. ‘You’re Megan, right? And you’re not feeling so flash at the moment, are you, sweetheart?’

Emily could see that Megan was caught by Mike’s smile and the concerned expression that she would have to be seeing in those dark eyes. And who wouldn’t respond to that? What female on earth wouldn’t want to be made to feel special by having a man like Mike concerned about them?

Megan nodded reluctantly.

‘Do you remember what happened when you got out of bed before?’

‘I…got a bit dizzy, that’s all.’

‘She hasn’t eaten anything for days,’ Honey put in. ‘I don’t think she even ate a hot dog at the rodeo and that was last Thursday.’ She was clutching Jim’s hand and they were both staring anxiously at their daughter.

Mike laid his hand on Megan’s forehead and Emily knew exactly why the young girl closed her eyes as though the touch was comforting.

‘You’re running a bit of a temperature. What else is going on for you, Megan?’

Emily unzipped the pack to locate a stethoscope and a blood-pressure cuff. ‘Is it OK if I take your blood pressure, Megan?’

‘I guess.’ The assent was grudging.

Emily moved to the other side of the bed. She was happy to play a supporting role here. Mike was just as capable as she was of doing a patient assessment and he had already established far more rapport with Megan than she herself was likely to achieve. The teenager was still watching Mike as Emily wrapped the cuff around her upper arm.

Megan was overweight and the cuff didn’t have much of an overlap so Emily had to hope the Velcro would stay fastened as she pumped up the pressure. Other impressions were also crowding in. The girl’s breathing was faster than it should be and so was her heart rate. Not surprising given her fever and not unexpected if this was a viral illness, but something was triggering a faint alarm bell for Emily.

And for Mike, it appeared. He was frowning.

‘What about these stomach pains your dad said you were getting?’

Emily could swear she heard a faint gasp from Honey but when she looked up her attention was caught by what she saw Jim holding in his free hand. A small red canister with a white pump nozzle on the top.

‘Do you get angina?’ she asked Jim. ‘Have you needed your spray tonight?’

‘I used it a while back.’

‘Do you have any chest pain at the moment?’

‘No. I’m fine. It’s Megan you need to worry about.’

Emily turned back. ‘BP’s 95 on 50, Mike.’

‘Mmm.’ Mike had coaxed Megan into letting him examine her abdomen. Emily could see that even gentle pressure was causing considerable pain. The glance she caught from Mike made that alarm bell ring more clearly.

‘I’ll set up an IV,’ Emily said quietly. ‘We don’t want that blood pressure getting any lower.’

‘Tell me about these stomach pains.’ Mike encouraged Megan again. ‘When did they start?’

‘A few days ago.’

‘And have you had anything like this before?’

‘She’s always had painful periods,’ Honey offered quickly, with a swift, almost apologetic glance at her husband. ‘But they don’t usually make her sick. She’s just caught a bug at a bad time of the month, hasn’t she?’

Mike’s attention was fixed on Megan. ‘So you’ve got your period at the moment?’

A face that had already been flushed from fever seemed to lose colour and then go astonishingly red. Megan shot an agonised glance in her father’s direction and it was only when Jim muttered something about putting the kettle on and left the bedroom that she finally nodded with extreme reluctance.

‘Sorry, sweets, I know this is a bit personal but it could be important. Would you rather just talk to Emily?’

Megan shook her head emphatically but Emily wasn’t offended. Given the choice, Mike would win as far as she was concerned as well.

‘OK. Do you use tampons?’

Emily almost nodded at the line she could see Mike following. Septic shock from ill-advised tampon use was a real possibility here. Appendicitis was also amongst a raft of conditions that could produce severe abdominal symptoms. A ruptured ectopic pregnancy was unlikely to cause the fever but Emily was running through every possibility she could think of. She had a strong impression that they were missing something important.

‘Sharp scratch, Megan, I’m sorry.’ The cannula slid into a vein on the back of the girl’s hand and Emily secured the line and attached a bag of saline as Mike continued his examination and assessment.

Emily held the bag of saline towards Honey. ‘Would you mind holding that for the moment, please?’

‘She’s really sick, isn’t she?’ They could all see that another shivering spell was gripping Megan. She had to stop answering Mike’s questions because her teeth were chattering hard enough to make speech impossible.

‘She’s certainly going to need to go into hospital,’ Emily said carefully. The anxiety levels around this place were quite high enough, without her adding too much. ‘Would you like to come in with her?’

Honey opened her mouth, closed it again and then shook her head in distress. ‘I can’t! We can’t afford to have the cattle loose again.’ With a quick glance at her daughter she lowered her voice. ‘Jim can’t manage by himself and there’s been enough trouble…’

Emily remembered Wetherby Downs’ station manager’s disgust at the state of the shared fence line between the properties. And she remembered something else. A comment about ‘one of the lads’. She also threw a quick glance in Megan’s direction. Wayne had implied that the ‘trouble’ had been some time ago. Around Christmas, which was eight months ago now. Too long for a ruptured ectopic pregnancy to cause the current symptoms. But what about a miscarriage? Maybe Megan’s relationship was ongoing. The girl’s weight was certainly enough to easily conceal a pregnancy for some time.

If her parents were unaware of the possibility then perhaps Megan had reason to want it kept confidential. Perhaps taking her to the hospital unaccompanied by any family members would actually be preferable.

Except that Jim clearly needed some kind of evaluation himself. Mike had had the same thought. He approached Megan’s father after she was settled on the stretcher in the back of the helicopter, having been carried there, single-handedly and rather heroically in Emily’s opinion, by Mike.

‘When did you last see a doctor, Jim?’ he queried casually.

‘He won’t.’ Honey ignored the warning look from her husband. ‘It’s too far for us to try and get into town and the only clinic in the area is held at Gunyamurra.’

That was very close to Wetherby Downs and the station’s population would provide the majority of any patients. The short silence spoke volumes about bad blood between neighbours. Emily broke the uncomfortable pause.

‘Maybe you’ll be able to get in to bring Megan home,’ she suggested. ‘It would be easy to set up an appointment to suit. We’ve got a really good cardiologist who’s just joined the staff and I could help by—’

‘We don’t need your help,’ Jim interrupted gruffly. ‘I’m fine. We can manage by ourselves, thanks. Just look after Megan for us, eh?’

Monitoring the sick teenager kept Emily too occupied to worry about being airborne again in a craft that lacked wings. Her faith in Mike’s ability to get them all back to base safely was absolute, and working with a patient in a helicopter was not so different to being in a fixed-wing aircraft. She still had to deal with engine noise while trying to talk to her patient or listen to breath sounds or get a blood-pressure reading, and to cope with unexpected fluctuations in her balance while reaching for equipment or trying to record observations on the patient record chart.

The first litre of fluid had run through with no improvement in blood pressure. Emily started another bag of normal saline and took another set of vital sign measurements. Megan’s heart and respiration rates were way above normal and her temperature was 39.6 degrees Centigrade, which was worryingly high.

Conversation proved difficult and not just because of the engine noise. Megan seemed even more miserable and withdrawn, possibly because Mike was no longer there to coax or charm. Emily did her best to keep her comfortable and maintained a cheerful, reassuring manner, but trying to win the girl’s confidence and talk to her properly might have to wait until she didn’t have to shout. And when they had more diagnostic tools and tests for assistance.

Charles was waiting in the emergency department of Crocodile Creek Base Hospital as Mike and Emily rolled the stretcher through the doors. Jill Shaw, their director of nursing, stood beside his chair.

‘I’ve set up the resuscitation area,’ she told Emily. ‘Charles offered to stay so I’ve held off calling any other staff in, but they’re only over at the house.’ She smiled. ‘Apart from Cal and Gina, that is. I think they’re still sitting on the beach somewhere.’

‘I’ll stick around,’ Mike offered. ‘I could be useful.’ Mike’s strength was vital, in fact, as they transferred Megan from the stretcher to the bed. The girl’s level of consciousness appeared to have dropped and she groaned loudly and rolled her head from side to side but said nothing in response to Jill’s greeting as the nurse readjusted her oxygen mask and started to remove clothing to change her into a hospital gown.

Charles raised an eyebrow questioningly at Emily.

‘I think we can rule out meningitis,’ Emily told him, ‘and her chest is clear. It’s more than a viral illness, though. Something’s going on abdominally and I’m worried about sepsis. We need to rule out peritonitis or maybe pyelonephritis or pancreatitis. Or possibly an incomplete miscarriage.’

Both of the rather bushy eyebrows that topped Charles’s craggy features rose at the last suggestion.

‘Plan of action?’

‘I’ll get bloods for chemistries. A complete count and coagulation studies from two separate sites. We’ll get a catheter in, get an analysis, do a pregnancy test and start monitoring urine output. I’ll do a pelvic exam and an ultrasound.’ She glanced at the monitor above Megan’s bed which was settling to give continuous readings of her ECG, blood pressure and pulse oximetry. ‘I want to get her blood pressure up a bit as well. I’ll start a dopamine infusion. And we’ll get her on full antibiotic cover as soon as we’ve taken the first bloods.’

‘I can take care of the samples,’ Charles offered. ‘I know my way round a few of those machines in the lab and I’m sure Alix won’t mind if we don’t haul her in at this time of night.’

Megan muttered incoherently and groaned frequently as Mike helped Emily collect the blood samples required. Jill was charting a new set of vital signs and looked up as the tympanic thermometer beeped.

‘Temp’s up to 40.2.’

Emily nodded. ‘We’ll need to cool her down.’ The blood pressure showing on the monitor was also a concern, having dropped a little to 90 over 45. ‘I’ll get that dopamine infusion started.’

Within twenty minutes the medical care Megan was receiving seemed to be helping. Her level of consciousness improved with a drug-induced rise in blood pressure and reduction in her body temperature, and by the time Emily was ready to do a pelvic examination Megan was alert and orientated. She understood Emily’s explanation of what she was about to do.

And she was not happy about it.

‘Why do you want to do that?’

‘I’m concerned about your bleeding,’ Emily said carefully. ‘It doesn’t seem quite like a normal period.’ Which was an understatement. The pad Jill removed in preparation for the necessary urinary catheter looked, and smelt, very abnormal.

Megan stared at her doctor. ‘What if I refuse? I can refuse, can’t I?’

‘I’m only trying to help you, Megan.’ Emily hesitated then took a steadying breath. She really needed some answers here. ‘Is there something worrying you, Megan?’ she asked gently. She took hold of her patient’s hand. ‘Are you—or have you been—pregnant?’

‘No!’

Emily stayed still for a moment, maintaining eye contact. Offering what she hoped was a sympathetic and nonjudgmental ear. Jill was quietly busy, noting observations on the chart in a corner of the room. Mike had taken the blood samples to the lab where Charles was getting set up to do the analyses.

But Megan looked away. ‘I’m not pregnant,’ she told Emily. ‘And I don’t need any internal examination. I’ve just got the flu.’

‘Having flu wouldn’t be giving you such a sore tummy,’ Emily said patiently. ‘We need to find out what’s making you this sick, Megan. If it’s something like your appendix, then it’s possible you may need an operation.’

‘Is that what you think it is?’ Megan sounded almost hopeful. ‘My appendix?’

‘We won’t know unless you let me do what I need to do. I know it’s not pleasant, Megan, but I’ll be as quick and as gentle as I can be.’

This time Megan nodded and she stayed co-operative as Emily put gloves on and got Jill to assist in positioning Megan. The older nurse moved to hold Megan’s hand reassuringly.

Emily was careful. And thorough. And very surprised. She caught Jill’s gaze and the older nurse blinked. Megan stared at Jill. Then her gaze flicked to Emily who tried to keep both her face and tone very calm.

‘Jill, can you take these swabs through to Charles and see what’s happening with the blood samples?’

Jill eyed her curiously but nodded. ‘Of course.’

‘I’m feeling better now,’ Megan announced as Jill left the room.

‘That’s great.’ Emily smiled. ‘We’ll have to make sure you keep getting better.’

‘I’m really thirsty.’ Megan was staring at Emily with unnerving intensity. Had she guessed what Emily was thinking?

‘We can’t give you anything to drink just yet, I’m sorry—just in case you need to go to Theatre. Not until we’re sure of our diagnosis.’ Emily was sure now. All she needed was a minute to collect her thoughts and decide how to handle the new information she had.

‘I need to go to the toilet.’

‘I’ll find you a bedpan.’

‘Ew!’ Megan looked disgusted. ‘But I feel fine. Why can’t I use a proper toilet?’

‘You might not feel so good if you try standing up. And we need to do some tests on your urine in any case. Can’t you wait just a minute or two? I don’t want to leave you alone to go and get a pan.’

‘No. I’m busting.’

Emily scanned the monitors. Everything was stable, and looking better than it had. She nodded reluctantly. ‘OK. Just rest there, Megan,’ she instructed. ‘I’ll be back in just a second.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘To the sluice room.’ Emily hesitated. ‘Do you want me to wait until Jill comes back? Or find another nurse to sit with you?’

‘No, I told you—I’m busting!’

Emily’s path back from the sluice room intersected with that of Mike as he came back into the department.

‘Results will be through in another few minutes,’ he told her. Then he peered at Emily’s face. ‘What’s up, Em? Is it Megan?’

She nodded. ‘I’ve just done a pelvic exam. I know what’s wrong with her.’

Mike was still studying Emily’s expression. ‘She’s had a miscarriage?’

‘No.’ Emily had used the last minute or so to assimilate the most recent information she had gathered on her patient. ‘I think she’s given birth. Very recently.’

Mike whistled silently. ‘Like…in the last few days?’

Emily nodded again. Very slowly. ‘She’s got a perineal tear that’s just starting to heal. The only likely explanation for that is giving birth—to at least a close to full-term baby.’

‘And Megan was at the rodeo on Thursday. Her mother said she hadn’t eaten any hot dogs.’

Emily’s nod was excited this time.

‘Which would make it entirely possible that Megan is—’

‘Lucky’s mother,’ Emily breathed. ‘Oh, Mike!’ She held onto Mike’s gaze. ‘Do you know what this means?’

‘That she might be septic from a fragment of retained placenta?’

‘Yes, but…’ It was almost too much to get her head around. Emily could so easily imagine what it would have been like if she’d been told her baby wasn’t dead after all. Megan must think she’d lost her infant. Gina—the doctor who had discovered Lucky behind the bushes at the rodeo—had been convinced that the mother would have believed it to be a stillbirth.

‘Should we tell her now?’

‘Has she said anything about being pregnant?’

‘She denied it.’ Emily frowned. ‘But, then, she would, wouldn’t she? She might think she’d get into trouble for leaving it behind the bushes. I think she thinks I might know something now, though—after that examination.’

‘Her family didn’t seem to know anything about it.’

‘No.’ Emily’s frown deepened. ‘Maybe she doesn’t want them to know.’

‘Wouldn’t be surprised. An extra mouth to feed around there might not be very welcome.’

Emily sighed. This wasn’t going to be as simple as she’d thought. Maybe she wouldn’t be producing a miracle. Maybe she was projecting too much of herself into this case. ‘What should I do, Mike?’

‘Talk to her. Carefully.’

‘She might prefer to talk to you. She trusts you.’

‘I’ll come and say hello,’ Mike suggested. ‘And see where she’s at. The number-one priority right now is to take care of Megan.’ Mike eyed the bedpan. ‘Does she need that?’

Emily nodded and started moving again. ‘You’re right, of course. Talking about Lucky can wait. If she’s septic from postnatal complications, we need to get on top of things fast.’

Emily drew back the curtain screening the resuscitation area, though it had been an unnecessary precaution in the empty department tonight.

They both stared at Megan’s bed. And at the end of the IV tubing that was dribbling a dopamine infusion onto the floor, drop by drop.

Emily turned to Mike in horror but he spoke first.

‘Where the hell has she gone?’