Читать книгу The Doctor's Baby Bombshell - Jennifer Taylor - Страница 8

CHAPTER TWO

THEY drove to Capper’s Fell and parked in a lay-by. Zoë got out of the car, trying not to think about the last time they’d been there. There was no point looking back when she wouldn’t have done things any differently. She didn’t want to get married, didn’t want children, didn’t want to spend her life with Ben or anyone else. She had seen the damage love could do, suffered because of it, and she didn’t intend to give anyone that much power over her.

‘I thought we could walk to the top and down the far side if you’re up to it,’ Ben announced as he joined her and she nodded.

‘Fine by me.’

‘Sure you can manage in those boots? They are a little on the large side for you.’

He crouched down and began tugging at the laces of her borrowed boots. One of his sisters had left them at his house, he’d explained, and although they were half a size too big, Zoë had assured him they would be fine. Now she found herself wishing that she’d told him they had fitted perfectly. At least then she wouldn’t have had to suffer in silence as his fingers gently prodded her toes.

Heat flashed along her veins and she shifted her feet, wanting to make him stop. She could cope so long as Ben didn’t touch her, didn’t make her remember all the other occasions when his hands had caressed her. He’d been such a passionate lover, showing her with his hands and his mouth how much he had wanted her. Zoë had tried to hold something of herself back, to not respond so fully, so completely, but she’d never succeeded. When Ben had made love to her, she had given him everything—her heart, her mind and her soul. And that’s what had scared her most of all. She had no control when she was in Ben’s arms.

‘They’re perfectly adequate for the amount of walking we’re going to be doing today,’ she said briskly, moving away.

‘Good.’

He didn’t react to her brusqueness as he straightened and contrarily Zoë wished he had done so. At least she would have had an outlet for her feelings if they’d had one of their rows.

She sighed as she followed him to the stile. Was that what she really wanted, to fight with him like she’d done in the last weeks they’d been together? Every day had been a battle, every minute they’d spent together so full of tension that she’d felt sick all the time. Ben had wanted her to give in and accept that they could be happy together for ever and ever, but she’d known it wouldn’t work.

Love might seem endless in the beginning but it didn’t last. Once passion faded, interest waned, and that was when the problems began. Even though she’d been only ten when her parents had divorced, she’d endured years of anguish beforehand as she’d watched her mother and father tearing themselves and each other apart.

It had been a relief when she’d been taken into care after her mother had suffered a breakdown following the divorce. By that time her father had left England and made a new life for himself in Australia; he hadn’t wanted the responsibility of caring for a ten-year-old child. The social workers had tried to explain it to her as gently as possible but Zoë had understood: her father didn’t want her.

Life in the children’s home had been bleak but at least there’d been nobody there she had cared about, and nobody who had cared about her either. She’d been freed from the emotional trauma of watching the people she loved destroy their lives. Her mother had never fully recovered from her breakdown and had been deemed too fragile to take care of her so Zoë had stayed in the home until she was sixteen when she had moved into a hostel. They exchanged Christmas and birthday cards but that was all. Their relationship had ended a long time ago.

‘Careful! It’s very slippery on this side. Here, take my hand.’

Ben grasped her hand as she climbed over the first bit of the stile and Zoë managed not to pull away, but her reluctance to let him help her must have shown. His mouth thinned but once again he didn’t say anything and it surprised her. Was Ben afraid of causing a row? she wondered. He must be as aware as she was of how fragile their truce really was.

The thought helped her put everything into perspective. Zoë realised that she had to do her bit to make the day as stress-free as possible for both of them. She nodded her thanks as she alighted from the stile, feeling her heart catch when Ben smiled at her. He had always worn his heart on his sleeve in the past where she’d been concerned. He’d never been able to hide how much he had loved her and it had made her own reserve all the more marked. However, she’d been afraid to lower her guard, apart from when they had made love.

How did he feel about her now? Although his smile seemed genuine enough, it was impossible to tell what he was thinking, and it troubled her. The old Ben had been so open about his feelings and she hated to think that he had changed so much. She might not be capable of giving herself to him but it didn’t mean she didn’t care about him.

They were halfway up the hill when Ben suddenly stopped. Zoë just managed to stop as well before she cannoned into him. She frowned when she saw him turn and look over to their left.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I thought I heard something—a moan or a shout, I’m not sure.’

He shrugged, his handsome face looking unusually stern as he stared across the open countryside. Zoë realised with a start how much older he looked than the last time she’d seen him. There were lines around his hazel eyes that definitely hadn’t been there two years ago and silver threads laced through his dark brown hair. Even the contours of his face had changed. He’d always been an extremely handsome man, and he still was, but there was a new austerity about his features, an authority that merely added to his appeal. At thirty-four years of age, Ben was in his prime and he looked it too.

A shiver ran down her spine as her brain logged all the small but significant changes. It was an effort to focus on the present but she couldn’t afford not to. There was no future for her and Ben—there never had been.

‘Do you think someone’s in trouble?’ she asked, deliberately removing any trace of emotion from her voice.

‘It could have been a bird, I suppose…’

‘But you don’t think so?’ she finished for him and he sighed.

‘No. I’m ninety per cent certain that I heard someone calling and that it came from over there.’

‘So what do you want to do?’

‘I don’t think we have much choice. We’ll have to take a look.’

Zoë followed as he turned off the main path. They had to walk in single file because the track was so narrow. It was lined on both sides with prickly bushes which snagged their trousers as they forced a way through them.

‘This must be a sheep track,’ Ben called over his shoulder.

‘Pity the poor sheep if they have to wriggle through all these thorns,’ Zoë retorted, and he chuckled.

‘I imagine it’s a bit different to strolling down the Champs Elysées.’

‘It certainly is. You might get jostled about on the pavement there but you definitely don’t have to pick thorns out of your flesh when you get home,’ she replied, and he laughed again, a rich deep sound that made her skin tingle.

It took them a good five minutes to reach the spot Ben had pointed out but there was nobody in sight. He sighed as he stared around. ‘Looks like I’ve brought you on a wild-goose chase. Sorry.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she began then broke off when she heard a low moan. ‘There is someone here!’ she exclaimed, trying to locate from where the sound had come. It came again and she pointed towards a huge spiky bush off to their right. ‘There!’

Ben hurried forwards, the wicked-looking thorns tearing at his hands as he parted the branches. ‘It’s a child! I’ll see if I can get her out.’

‘Here, let me help you.’

Zoë forced her way through the undergrowth, wincing as the thorns dug into her. She could see the child now lying right in the very centre of the bush. Heaven only knew how she had got in there but that wasn’t nearly as important as getting her out. Dragging the sleeves of the borrowed jacket over her hands to protect them, she pulled the branches apart until there was a big enough gap for Ben to reach in and lift the child out. He carried her to a clearing and laid her on the ground then stripped off his jacket and covered her with it. Zoë knelt down and checked her pulse.

‘Pulse is slow but at least there is one.’ She laid her hand on the child’s forehead and grimaced. ‘She’s very cold. I don’t know how long she’s been out here but it looks like hypothermia to me.’

‘We need to get her to hospital.’ Ben looked back the way they had come. ‘The quickest way is to carry her back to the car and drive her there. We can’t afford to wait around for an ambulance in view of the problems they’re having at the moment. We’ll check her over first just to be on the safe side, but we don’t want to delay too long.’

They worked together, performing a rapid but thorough examination. Zoë would have liked some basic equipment to work with but as it wasn’t available, she got on with the job as best she could. She rattled out her findings as she went so that Ben could check they hadn’t missed anything.

‘Skin is very pale and her face looks puffy. Breathing is slow and quite shallow, too.’

Ben had slid his hand under the child’s sweater and was feeling her armpit. ‘Very cold under the arms so hypothermia is fairly advanced.’ He tested the little girl’s limbs next. ‘No sign of fractures—can you check her spine?’

‘That seems fine,’ Zoë told him a moment later.

‘Good. It should be safe enough to move her.’ He felt in his jacket pocket and pulled out a woollen hat which he placed on the child’s head to help conserve any remaining body heat. ‘That’s the best we can do for now. Let’s get her to hospital.’

He picked up the child and headed back along the track. Zoë followed him, wishing there was something she could do to help. It wasn’t easy forging a way through the bushes when he was so hampered but it was impossible to walk alongside him and assist in any way.

‘This is so frustrating,’ she grumbled as she trotted along at his heels. ‘I should be helping you instead of acting like a spare part!’

‘Your turn will come,’ he told her and even though she couldn’t see his face, she could hear the smile in his voice.

‘Why do I get the feeling that my turn might not be all that pleasant?’ she demanded. ‘Exactly what do you have in mind?’

‘Ah, that would be telling. And there is no way that I want to scare you off. I need you, Zoë Frost, and I don’t intend to let you get away from me!’

Ben grimaced, hoping Zoë wouldn’t take his comment the wrong way. He breathed a sigh of relief when she laughed. He really mustn’t go looking for hidden meanings, he told himself as they rejoined the main path, and definitely not allow himself to wonder if Zoë was looking for them too. Zoë wasn’t his girlfriend any longer. She wasn’t going to be a part of his life either. Once today was over, he probably wouldn’t see her again.

The thought caused a funny sensation in the pit of his stomach but Ben ignored it. They had reached the stile and he waited while Zoë scrambled over to the other side then passed the child across to her.

‘It’s OK, I’ve got her,’ she told him when he went to take the little girl back and he nodded. It didn’t matter to him if she preferred to struggle rather than accept his help. He knew how independent she was and if it made her feel better, who was he to object?

Unlocking the car, he hunkered down and slid the driver’s seat forward as far as it would go. There was a tiny bench seat in the back—so small that he used it merely to stow his coat. However, it would be needed for a different purpose today. ‘Can you climb into the back? I know it’s going to be a tight squeeze but I want to lay her on the front seat. I can lower the back to make it more comfortable for her if you could hunch up.’

Zoë shot a wry glance into the back of the car. ‘So this is what you meant about my turn. I’m going to have to perform some contortions, am I?’

Ben grinned. ‘It’s either you or me, and I honestly don’t think I can get in there. I’d need a shoehorn to fit into that minuscule space!’

‘Either that or a bucket of grease,’ she retorted, handing him the child before doubling up and scrambling into the back of the car. Ben had a tantalising glimpse of her shapely bottom then she was in, wriggling herself into the corner to allow for the passenger seat to be reclined.

He drove the enticing image from his head as he gently laid the little girl on the passenger seat and adjusted the back until she was lying almost flat. He fastened the seat belt across her then handed Zoë his mobile phone.

‘Can you call the emergency services and tell them what’s happened? No doubt there’s some frantic parents looking for this little one and the sooner they know she’s been found, the better.’ He closed the door and strode round to the driver’s side, grunting as he squeezed behind the steering-wheel. ‘I only hope I can change gear with my knees tucked under my chin.’

‘We can always trade places,’ Zoë suggested sweetly and he chuckled.

‘No way! I could do myself permanent damage if I got in there.’

He pulled out of the lay-by, leaving Zoë to inform everyone about what had happened. He could hear her talking on the phone, her voice sounding cool and crisp as she relayed the information. She had a lot more confidence than she’d had two years ago, he realised. Although she’d always been very self- assured in her dealings with her patients, she’d been more reticent when it had come to speaking to people in authority. Obviously, the time she’d spent in Paris had brought about changes in her attitude as well as in her appearance and Ben couldn’t help wondering if it was all down to Zoë herself or to other forces.

Had Zoë met someone there, a man who had shown her how to dress to make the most of herself, taught her to feel as confident as she was beautiful? The idea didn’t sit easily with him even though it had nothing to do with him if it turned out to be true. Zoë didn’t need him as her mentor or her lover.

The child’s name was Megan Turner. She was four years old and had been visiting her grandparents who had a farm in the area when she had wandered off. Her parents met them at the hospital, overjoyed that she had been found. Ben explained his suspicions that Megan was suffering from hypothermia but he didn’t waste time. It was more important that Megan receive the appropriate treatment.

‘I don’t think she’s bad enough to warrant controlled warming but can you alert PICU just in case?’ he instructed as he shouldered open the doors to Resus. He placed Megan on a bed then glanced at the two nurses and junior doctor who had followed him in. ‘Can you take her temperature, Abby—use a rectal thermometer, please. I want to know exactly what we’re dealing with. Jo, I want you to fill the bath with warm water and, Adam, I want you to monitor her breathing and pulse rate. Any fluctuation— and I do mean any—I want to be informed immediately.’

Everyone nodded and set to work. Zoë watched them, enjoying the way they all seemed to know exactly what was expected of them. It was typical of Ben to make his instructions crystal clear. He hated mistakes being made and did everything possible to avoid them. She’d learned such a lot from him when they had worked together…

And learned even more when they were away from work, a small voice whispered inside her head.

‘Want to give me a hand?’

Zoë started when Ben turned to her, feeling the colour rush up her face as she prayed that he didn’t have any inkling about what she’d been thinking. ‘Of course. What do you want me to do?’

‘Check her response to both noise and light.’ He lowered his voice. ‘She hasn’t opened her eyes or spoken since we found her but I don’t think she’s unconscious, just exhausted and very frightened. I want to do the absolute minimum to guarantee her well-being rather than rush in with all guns blazing.’

Zoë nodded, understanding why he preferred that approach. Although the dramatic scenes that were the staple of so many medical soap operas made excellent viewing, a patient’s needs were better served if treatment was kept as minimal as possible. She took a penlight out of its holder and gently peeled back the little girl’s eyelids while she shone the light into her eyes. There was an immediate response and she glanced at Ben.

‘Both eyes reacting positively to light.’

‘Good.’

Ben’s tone was abstracted as he bent over the child, but Zoë didn’t doubt that he had taken her findings on board. She replaced the light in its holder and picked up a pair of plastic forceps which she rapped on the metal bedframe. Little Megan visibly jumped, confirming Ben’s suspicions that she wasn’t comatose. It was an encouraging finding and Zoë felt her spirits lift.

‘Her temperature is 35C, Ben,’ one of the nurses called and Ben nodded.

‘That means she’s borderline and that, hopefully, we’ve caught her in time. We’ll go straight to the warm bath and get her temperature up that way. Let’s get these clothes off her but leave the hat on.’

Ben immediately set to and helped as the nurses began stripping off the child’s clothes. Although most consultants shied away from such menial tasks, Ben never flinched when it came to practicalities. If a job needed doing, he was willing to do it himself and didn’t expect everyone to dance attendance on him. Zoë had always admired him for that and discovered that she still admired him for it now, although he possessed so many positive attributes it was hard to pick out one from all the others.

The thought was disquieting bearing in mind that she had no intention of searching out things to admire about him. She followed as Ben picked up little Megan and carried her to the bath. He placed her carefully in the warm water, making sure the whole of her body was immersed apart from her head. The little girl whimpered and opened her eyes and he smiled at her.

‘It’s all right, poppet. We’re just going to make you feel all warm again.’

Zoë felt her eyes fill with tears when she heard the tenderness in his voice. Although Ben was marvellous with all the patients, he was particularly good with any children. He would make the most wonderful father one day and the thought hurt far more than it should have done. She had made up her mind a long time ago that she didn’t want children and she wasn’t going to change it, not now, not ever.

She took a deep breath and used it to shore up her emotions. She would never be the mother of Ben’s children.