Читать книгу Father For Her Newborn Baby - Lynne Marshall - Страница 12

THE LAST OF the wedding guests had finally left. It was getting dark, and Cole had handed the mantle to the lead of the cleanup crew. He’d done his brotherly duty for Trevor’s wedding, and looked forward to getting out of his suit and unwinding with a good novel before calling it a night.

He wandered toward the porch and the front door. Gretchen, the family cook, met him with an anxious look.

“Hello, Cole,” she said, trying to sound calm but not coming close.

“Hi. What’s up?” He remembered the limousine from earlier. “We have company?”

“Uh, yes.” She wouldn’t look him in the eyes.

“Is something wrong?” He stopped and waited for Gretchen to look up.

“Uh. No. I was just a little surprised, that’s all.” Still not looking at him, she turned toward the screen door.

“Surprised? About what?”

Tiberius appeared on the other side of the screen. “That she has a baby, that’s what.”

“Who has a baby?” His feet stuck to the porch floorboards.

“The doctor Trevor hired,” his father said with a lopsided grin.

“A baby?” What was going on? The new doctor was here already?

“You know, the little tykes in diapers, a baby.” His dad seemed to take great joy in rubbing in the news, though he looked tired beyond his years just then. It’d been a long few days preparing for the wedding; Cole would cut him some slack. “They cry a lot and need undivided attention?”

Cole sped up the last few steps to the front door, pulling out his cell phone on the way, ready to speed-dial his brother. “Trevor didn’t mention that.” In all honesty, Trevor hadn’t had the chance.

“Of course not, because you would have thrown a fit if he did,” Dad said, not splitting hairs, holding the door open for Gretchen and him to go inside.

“That’s not necessarily true. But it would have been nice to know.”

Before he could press dial, a tall and slender, dark-haired woman with vivid green eyes and ivory skin appeared in the entryway. She’d come from the east wing where she must have left her baggage, and had some sort of swaddling sling across her torso with a good-sized bulge buried inside.

“Hello,” she said, a natural rasp in her lower-than-usual female voice. “I’m Elisabete, but everybody calls me Lizzie.”

Out of the blue, Cole wondered how her laugh would sound. He guessed smoky and…

She reached out a thin hand with long delicate fingers, and, instead of dialing Trevor to curse him out, Cole pocketed the phone, took her hand and shook. Warmth emanated from both her grip and her wide gaze, which was truly stunning, and stole some of his thunder.

“I’m Cole. Nice to meet you. I’m a bit surprised by your… er… bundle there.” He nodded to the lump dangling snuggly from her middle.

She gave a fatigued smile and glanced down beneath fuller-than-usual dark brows at her baby. “My little Flora screamed the entire flight from Boston. I think she’s worn herself out. At one point I thought the flight attendant wanted to shove me out the door.” She lifted her gaze, tension dwelling in those lovely, though bewildered, eyes even as she tried to make light of her situation. “I’ll carry my load at the clinic, Dr. Montgomery. I promise.”

Had she read his mind? Only then did he think to let go of the comfort of her hand. Those deeply inquisitive eyes studied him, obviously hunting for a sign of his humanity.

“With an infant that will be a huge challenge. Are you sure you can handle the job?”

“I don’t know how much Dr. Rivers told you—”

“Dr. Rivers spoke to my brother, who left for his honeymoon today. I don’t have a clue if Trevor knew about the bambino part or not.” So much for his humanity.

“I’ve made some tea—why doesn’t everyone sit down and I’ll bring it?” Gretchen said, having never been able to handle tension, even though, having worked for years for the Montgomery family, she should have gotten used to it by now.

“Yes, why don’t we?” Tiberius said, an amused smirk on his face. He led the way to the living room.

Cole gestured for Lizzie to follow, noting her jeans-clad long legs, narrow hips and flip-flop-covered feet, thinking how impractical the footwear was for a ranch. But there was something else he noticed beyond her travel-weary appearance, and besides the single long, thick braid down her back: it was the confidence with which she walked. The way she held her head high even under his less-than-gracious welcome. This one was a fighter. Maybe she had to be.

“What kind of name is Silva?” Tiberius asked just before he sat in his favorite overstuffed chair.

“It’s Portuguese.”

Cole wasn’t exactly sure what he’d signed on for taking over his brother’s practice, but, with the arrival of Lizzie sporting a baby, that task had suddenly gotten a hell of a lot more challenging.

While Gretchen served tea in the living room, Cole asked Lizzie about medical school, but got distracted with the dozens of other questions flying through his head.

“And after spending a month in the emergency department, I knew for a fact I didn’t have what it takes to work under that kind of pressure. That place made me wicked crazy,” she said without seeming to take a breath. “Internal medicine seemed the right fit for me. It’s kind of like taking a good mystery—the patient’s symptoms—and step-by-step solving the case by diagnosing and treating them properly. Makes me feel like a medical sleuth, kind of like that TV show, House, you know? So I’m really looking forward to working in your clinic, Dr. Montgomery.”

Just what he needed, his own House. Didn’t she understand that guy would have lost his medical license a hundred different times because of his antics? Cole definitely had his work cut out for him training a new, dreamy-eyed doctor.

Plus, she spoke rapid-fire, with a thick Bostonian accent, and to be honest he often had trouble following her. Depahtmint. Pressha. Lookin’ farwid. But it was kind of amusing at the same time. He suppressed a smile as she talked on and on, probably nervous and wanting to make a good first impression. Meanwhile, he grasped for ways to make this situation work. New doctor. New mother. New clinic. And he’d thought he was out of his depth taking over the clinic before!

For a new mother, she certainly seemed to have a lot of energy, or maybe she was just a hyper type. He hoped she wouldn’t talk his ear off all the time because that would get old fast. Gee, thanks for sticking me with your sight-unseen doctor, Trev, old buddy.

She continued on with her story, and Cole hoped she’d get around to mentioning the baby, but she conveniently skipped over that part. Instead she talked about experiences in medicine and kept assuring him she’d carry her load at the clinic, then stopped midsentence when her eyes settled on Tiberius, who still had an amused smirk on his face.

“Is that how you always smile?” she asked bluntly.

Granted, it was an odd lopsided smile, but Cole figured it was typical of Dad to be a smart aleck over the mixed-up circumstances Cole had found himself in. Then he looked closer. She was right: something was off.

Lizzie popped up from the chair and walked straight to his father. “Smile again,” she said. “Hmm. Give me your hands. Squeeze.” She glanced over her shoulder at Cole, her full arched brows raised, then quickly back to Tiberius. “Are you feeling numbness or tingling on either side?” Tiberius looked confused. “Cole, he’s noticeably weaker on the right. Is this always the case?”

Cole jumped up and strode toward his father and Lizzie. “No.”

“Raise your arms for me, Mr. Montgomery.” The right arm went only half as high as the other. “Can you say ‘the sky is blue’?”

It came out slurred and jumbled. “Sy… boo.”

“I’ll call 911.” Cole dug for the phone in his pocket and made the call.

“He seemed to walk in here just fine, but then I noticed his droopy smile.” Lizzie went down on her knees to look Tiberius in the eyes. “Is your vision blurry?”

He made a tiny shake of his head.

“He needs thrombolytics ASAP. Time is brain,” she said, slipping into doctor mode, stating the obvious door-to-IV necessity for early treatment. “We’ve got a three-hour window.”

Cole filled in the emergency operator. “We need a stroke team ready to go,” he said when he’d finished. She assured him an ambulance would be on the way with estimated time of arrival twenty minutes. The nearest hospital was in Laramie. He did the math and knew time was of the essence if they wanted the best results with his father’s evolving stroke. Panic ripped through him at the thought of losing his dad. He went to him and squeezed his shoulder. “We’ll get the help you need, Dad.”

Tiberius glanced up, seeming a bit disoriented. Trevor’s wedding had taken more of a toll than Cole had realized.

“We should give him an aspirin right now,” Lizzie said.

“He’s already on daily aspirin.”

“Let’s give him another. Research shows the benefits outweigh the risk of causing bleeding in the brain.”

Cole also knew this was an ongoing debate among clinicians. Some researchers said early aspirin was beneficial, others said it could prove risky. The key was whether a clot or a burst vessel was the cause of his father’s stroke, and only a CT scan could prove that. Yet, the overemphasis of TPA, tissue plasminogen activator, as the only treatment could also cause bleeding in the brain. He wasn’t about to take up that debate now with Lizzie when his father was in the middle of a stroke.

“Out of…” Tiberius mumbled.

What? “You’re out of something?” Cole repeated what he thought his father meant.

“Asp.” He looked and sounded like someone who’d just had Novocain injections at the dentist.

His father had a history of TIAs, transient ischemic attacks, and that was caused by blockage. Why hadn’t he gotten a new bottle of aspirin immediately? Cole wanted to wring his dad’s neck, but quickly remembered there’d been a lot of activity going on over the past week with wedding plans and parties and Cole moving back home. Today’s wedding had been an all-day affair. He’d cut his father some slack, but still wondered if this TIA could have been prevented, and whether or not it would turn into a full-blown cerebrovascular accident this time around. The thought sent a shard of fear deep into his chest.

“Let’s do it, then,” Cole said, jogging to the closest medicine cabinet in the hall bathroom. “There isn’t any here,” he called out. Frustration blended with panic.

“I’ve got some in the kitchen,” Gretchen said, close on his heels. “You should have told me you were out, Monty,” she called over her shoulder.

When they returned, Lizzie had remained with Tiberius, reassuring him and distracting him by showing her newborn to him. She cooed over her baby and smiled up at the man. That lopsided smile returned, and his eyes looked calmer and more focused since gazing at the sleeping child.

“Take this, Dad.” Cole gave him the aspirin. “Can you swallow okay?” He tested his dad with a tiny sip from the cup of forgotten tea on the table next to his chair. He seemed to swallow okay, so Cole gave it to him. If this was a true TIA, his symptoms would go away within ten to twenty minutes. If it was a CVA, there was no telling how long or how much worse it could get. By Cole’s count it had already been over ten minutes since Lizzie had astutely noticed his father’s quirky grin, and as of now the symptoms remained unchanged. A foreboding shadow settled around Cole’s vision; worry kicked up the fear he’d tried to suppress. He wasn’t ready to lose his dad. Nowhere near.

“I’m calling the Laramie ER, giving them a preliminary report. I already told them to have the stroke team ready to go the second Dad arrives.”

“Do you have a blood-pressure monitor in the house?” Lizzie asked as he dialed his cell phone.

It’d been so long since Cole had lived here, he didn’t rightly know.

“There’s one in Monty’s bedroom,” Gretchen said, setting off in that direction of the house.

Cole studied his father, then looked at the beautiful baby with a full head of dark hair, just like her mother. The child squirmed and stretched while still deeply asleep, and that simple marvel kept that odd smile on his father’s face. Whatever helped or distracted him. The man must be scared as hell of having another stroke. He prayed their actions would be enough for now.

Gretchen produced the portable blood-pressure cuff while Cole gave his report to the ER. He watched as Lizzie carefully placed her baby, who was obviously still exhausted from the big airplane trip, across Tiberius’s lap, then she went right to work setting up and checking the numbers. “Well, we can’t blame his blood pressure for this CVA.” At one hundred and thirty over eighty-five it wasn’t greatly elevated.

Cole repeated the BP to the doctor on the phone. He knew that eighty percent of all strokes were ischemic, caused by a blockage of blood flow. The fact that his father had kept his blood pressure under control since his first TIA a couple of years ago, plus his BP wasn’t exceptionally high right now, meant the odds of a hemorrhagic stroke were much less. But you never knew, he couldn’t be too cautious and the man belonged in the hospital for treatment and best outcome. And just before he finished the call, there was the sweet sound of a distant ambulance siren.

“Our ride’s here,” he said to the doctor on the other end, then gave his dad a reassuring smile. “ETA an hour and ten.” That left a one- to two-hour window to get his father on thrombolytic therapy for best chance of full recovery. He hoped it would be enough.