Читать книгу White Christmas For The Single Mum - Susanne Hampton - Страница 12

CHAPTER THREE

CHARLIE SAW THE small child fall from the playground equipment. He was only too aware that while there was a thick blanket of freshly fallen snow in some places, in other areas there was only a thin covering. The shade the trees gave in summer when they were covered in lush green leaves was lovely but the branches had acted as natural canopies preventing the snow from building up to a level that would have broken her fall. He felt a knot in the pit of his stomach at seeing the child lying motionless on the ground and he rushed across the car park.

While it wasn’t an overly tall slide, the child, he could see, was very tiny. As he drew closer he could see there was no one with her. Why would anyone leave a child out in the freezing weather unattended? He looked around and there was no one in sight. No one running to help. Fuelled by concern for the child and anger at the parent or parents, he raced to the gate.

‘How damned irresponsible,’ he muttered under his breath and shook his head. But his words were driven by something deeper. His dreams of being a father had ended the day his wife died and that made it even harder to see that this child had been left alone. If he were the father he would protect his child at any cost and he would never have left one so tiny out in the cold. Alone.

He undid the safety latch with a sense of urgency as he heard soft moans coming from the child he could then see was a little girl, lying still on her side. She was conscious. He quickly crossed to her and knelt down. ‘You’ll be okay, honey. I’m a doctor at this hospital. I just want to see if you’ve been hurt.’ He kept his words to a minimum as he could see just how young she was.

‘Where’th Mummy? I want Mummy.’ Bea’s eyes suddenly widened and began to fill with tears.

‘We’ll try and find Mummy,’ he said as he wondered the very same question.

Where the hell was the little girl’s mother? And her father?

As he began to check her vital signs he guessed she was between three and four years of age. ‘Where does it hurt?’

‘My arm hurths,’ she said, abruptly sitting upright with tears running down her ruddy cheeks.

Charlie was surprised but relieved to see her level of mobility and suspected her tears were fuelled by fear and pain in equal amounts. ‘Anywhere else?’

‘No. It’th jutht my arm. Where’th Mummy?’ Her chin was quivering and the tears were flowing freely.

Charlie reassured her again they would find her mother as he continued his medical assessment. As she awkwardly tried to climb to her feet, it was obvious to Charlie that she had only injured her arm so he scooped her up ready to take her to the emergency department. Neither a stretcher nor a paramedic team was needed and he wanted to get her out of the bitter cold air immediately and into the warmth of the hospital where she could be thoroughly assessed.

‘Put my daughter down now!’ Juliet’s loud voice carried from the gate to where Charlie was standing.

Charlie’s eyes narrowed on her. ‘I’m a doctor, so please open the gate for me and step aside. This child’s been hurt,’ he told her as he approached with Bea still firmly in the grip of his strong arms. ‘I’m taking her to have an X-ray.’

Juliet hurriedly opened the gate. ‘She’s my daughter. I can take her,’ she said, reaching out for Bea, but Charlie ignored her request and moved swiftly, and in silence, in the direction of the emergency entrance with Juliet running alongside him.

‘I said, I can carry her.’

‘I heard you but I have her, so let’s keep unnecessary movement to a minimum.’

Juliet nodded. It was logical but she still wished her injured daughter were in her arms, not those of the tall, leather-clad stranger who was supposedly a doctor. ‘I saw her fall but I couldn’t get to her in time.’

Charlie’s eyebrow rose slightly. ‘That’s of no consequence now. I saw her. I’ll get her seen immediately in A&E and then you can perhaps explain why she was left unattended out in this weather at such a young age.’

‘Excuse me?’ Juliet began in a tone that didn’t mask her surprise at his accusatory attitude. While she thought it was unfair and unjust it also hit a raw nerve. ‘I wasn’t far away—’

‘Far enough, it would seem, for me to get to her first,’ Charlie cut in with no emotion in his voice. As the three of them entered the warmth of the emergency department, the feeling between them was as icy as the snow outside. ‘I need her name and age.’

‘Beatrice, but we call her Bea, and she’s four years and two months.’ Juliet answered but her voice was brimming with emotion. Overwhelming concern about Bea and equally overwhelming anger towards the man who was carrying her child. How dared he be so quick to judge her?

‘Four-year-old girl by the name of Bea, suspected green stick fracture of the forearm,’ he announced brusquely to the nursing staff as he took long, powerful strides inside with Juliet following quickly on his heels. Charlie carried Bea into one of the emergency cubicles and laid her gently on the examination bed. With the curtains still open, he continued. ‘We need an X-ray stat to confirm radius or ulna fracture but either way, if I’m correct, we’ll be prepping for a cast. And bring me some oral analgesia.’

‘Ibuprofen, acetaminophen or codeine?’ the nurse asked.

‘One hundred milligrams of suspension ibuprofen,’ Charlie replied, then, as it was a teaching hospital and he was aware that three final-year medical students had moved closer to observe, he continued. ‘Generally paediatric fracture patients have significantly greater reduction in pain with ibuprofen than those in either the acetaminophen group or the codeine group and they suffer less negative side effects.’

‘What’th happening, Mummy?’

‘The doctor,’ she began before she shot an angry glare over her shoulder in Charlie’s direction. She was impressed with his knowledge but not his attitude towards her. ‘Sweetie, the doctor thinks you may have broken your arm when you fell from the playground slide so he’ll take a picture of your arm with a special machine.’

‘Will it hurt?’

‘The machine won’t hurt you at all but they will have to very gently lift your arm to take off your coat and then take a picture. So the doctor will give you some medicine so it doesn’t hurt.’

The nurse returned with the ibuprofen and Charlie asked Bea to swallow the liquid.

‘Please do as the doctor asks because it will make the pain go away,’ Juliet told her daughter with a smile that belied how worried she was. ‘Don’t worry, Bea, I’ll be with you every minute. I’m not leaving your side.’

‘That’d be a nice idea,’ Charlie put in, with sarcasm evident in his voice just enough for Juliet alone to know the intent of his remark but no one else. Without looking up, he signed the radiograph request the A&E nurse had given him.

Juliet took a deep breath and counted silently to three. It was not the time to tell him just what she thought of his snide remarks, particularly not in the presence of her daughter and the medical students. But that time would come once everyone was out of earshot. And he would hear in no uncertain terms just what he could do with his unwarranted opinion.

‘Can you please complete the paperwork?’ the nurse asked of Juliet. ‘We only need the signature of one parent.’

‘Bea only has one parent,’ Juliet said flatly before she accepted the clipboard from the nurse and hurriedly but accurately began to complete the details so she could expedite the process and allow Bea to have the X-ray. She wasn’t sure if the doctor had heard and she didn’t care as Bea’s parental status wasn’t his concern.

‘Dr Warren,’ another young nurse began as she neared the trio with a clipboard, ‘would you like me to call for the paediatric resident so you can return to the OBGYN clinic?’

‘No, I’m here now, I’ll finish what I’ve started.’

‘Of course,’ the nurse replied. ‘Then we can take the patient down as soon as the paperwork is completed.’

‘Dr Warren? Dr Charlie Warren?’ Juliet demanded as she fixed her eyes on Charlie for a moment. He was not the borderline elderly OBGYN she had pictured. Dr Charlie Warren, she surmised, was closer to his early thirties.

‘Yes. Why do you ask?’

Juliet didn’t answer immediately. Instead she ensured she had not missed any details on the admissions form before she signed and returned it to the nurse. It gave her a few moments to compose herself and reconcile that the man treating her daughter was the OBGYN who had stood her up for their meeting and the one who wanted to oppose her treatment plan for the quadruplets. He was already very much on the back foot but, with his obvious bad attitude, it did not augur well for them working together.

‘Well, Dr Warren, it appears that you owe me an apology since you’re the reason why my daughter is in here.’ Juliet wore a self-satisfied look, one she felt she more than deserved to display.

‘I hardly think so. I just pulled into the car park when your daughter fell. We both know that I had nothing to do with her accident so let’s not waste time trying to shift blame. Leaving a child this young alone is something I am not sure I can fully understand...or want to.’

‘That’s where you’re wrong. You have everything to do with the accident because if you’d been on time for our meeting my daughter would not have stepped outside to play.’

‘Our meeting?’

‘Yes, our ten o’clock meeting,’ she began. ‘I’m Dr Juliet Turner. The in-utero surgeon who has flown halfway around the world and managed to be here on time for a meeting about your quad pregnancy patient, and, I might add, we travelled straight from the airport. My daughter needed to stretch her legs for a minute after such a long journey, so I allowed her to play in the fenced area that I assumed would not be open unless it was in fact child-safe while I enquired further about your arrival. If heavy snowfall changes the safety status of the area then it should be closed. You may like to speak to the hospital board about looking into that matter.’ Juliet had not taken a breath during the delivery. Adrenalin was pumping out the words. She was scared for Bea. And extremely angry with Charlie Warren.

‘Dr Turner? I had no idea...’

‘Clearly...and apparently no time management either.’

Charlie was momentarily speechless. Juliet felt momentarily vindicated.

She noticed a curious frown dress his brow. Then she also noticed, against her will, that his brow was very attractive, as was his entire face. She had been focusing on Bea and not noticed anything much about the man who had whisked her daughter unceremoniously into A&E. But now she noticed his chiselled jaw, deep blue eyes and soft, full mouth. In fact, each moment her eyes lingered on his face she realised he was in fact extremely handsome, even when he frowned. His powerful presence towered over her with long, lean legs and his leather riding gear accentuated his broad shoulders. She shook herself mentally. His manner was both judgmental and conceited. Alarm bells rang in her head. Why were her thoughts even teetering on noticing him past being her daughter’s emergency physician? He was just another arrogant man and one she was going to be forced to work with in some capacity.

In a perfect world she would have nothing to do with him once he had finished treating Bea. But she also knew that they didn’t live in a perfect world. And not seeing Charlie Warren again wasn’t possible. They would be consulting on the high-risk patient until the birth of the four babies.

And she was well aware that, after challenging her parenting, he would shortly be challenging her treatment plan. There was no way this working relationship was going to run smoothly. And she doubted with his attitude he intended to play nicely.

‘I had additional house calls this morning as I needed to cover another OBGYN’s patients. He’s down with the winter virus that swept through Teddy’s. With both patient loads it look longer than I anticipated, but point taken. I should have called in.’

Juliet couldn’t help but notice him staring at her. It was a curious stare, no longer angry or accusing.

‘I understand covering for ill colleagues happens but a text would have been prudent,’ she continued, ignoring his reaction, suspecting like everyone else he was looking at her as if she weren’t old enough to be a surgical specialist. She had grown tired of that look and in Dr Warren’s case she wasn’t about to give him any leeway. Nor was she about to give her unexpected reaction to him any acknowledgement. Her tone was brittle but with his masculinity hovering around eleven out of ten he was making it difficult not to be a little self-conscious despite her ire.

‘We can speak further about my delay later, Dr Turner, but let’s get Bea into Radiography and ascertain the extent of the fracture,’ Charlie announced, breaking her train of thought.

Juliet did not respond to Charlie as she wasn’t sure what exactly she would say. Her equilibrium was beyond ruffled and she was struggling to keep her thoughts on track. She returned her attention to Bea, and stroked her daughter’s brow. ‘Mummy and the doctor will be taking you on this special bed to have that picture now. And then if the doctor is right and you have broken the bone in your arm then you will have a cast put on until it’s all healed.’

‘What’th that?’

‘You know when Billy, the little boy from playgroup, fell over last year and he had a bright blue plaster on his arm? And everyone drew pictures on it with crayons? That’s a cast.’

Bea nodded. ‘I drew a star and a moon.’

‘That’s right, and it was a very beautiful star and moon.’

‘Can I take it off? Billy couldn’t take it off.’

‘No, you won’t be able to take it off but it won’t be too uncomfortable,’ Charlie chimed in with a voice that Juliet noticed had suddenly warmed. She wasn’t sure if that warmth was directed at Bea alone or if he was attempting to be nice to Juliet as well. ‘There’s a soft bit inside and a hard layer outside that stops your arm from moving so that it can heal.’

Juliet turned back to face Charlie to ask another question and immediately wished she hadn’t. He had moved closer and his face was only inches from her. His cologne was subtle and very masculine. She tried to keep the same professional demeanour but dropped her eyes, refusing to keep the courtesy of eye contact for two reasons. One, she was still fuming and waiting for an apology that she doubted she would ever receive, and, two, she didn’t want to risk falling into the dark blue pools that were more blue than any she had ever seen before. She didn’t want to forgive him for his appalling behaviour. Without all of the facts he had jumped to a conclusion that was unjust. But her hormones were overriding her good sense. It was completely out of character for her. She was angry and she never paid attention to men, good-looking or not. And she would be damned if she would allow it to happen that day. Or any day in the future.

She quickly decided she didn’t want to hear an apology from Charlie. If one was not offered it would mean that she could then remain furious with good reason, keep the man at arm’s length and her mettle would not be tested. If he made amends, he might prove to be a distraction on some level that she didn’t want. Although she knew her sensible side would win, she didn’t want to waste any time on some ridiculous internal battle of hormones versus logic. Particularly when she had a very real battle to fight with the very same man.

Coughing, she cleared her throat in an attempt to gain some composure. Dr Warren’s nearness was, for some inexplicable reason, threatening to awaken something in Juliet she had buried a long time ago. And it didn’t need digging up now. That part of her life was over. Perhaps it was just sleep deprivation, she wondered. She had not travelled for so many hours straight before either. Nor had her daughter ever suffered an injury of that nature. It had to be the series of events stacked against her that was messing with her logic. Making her emotions a little unstable. It wasn’t her. It definitely had to be the combination of factors, she decided, not Charlie Warren himself. Suddenly she had everything back in perspective, the way she liked it. Charlie Warren was her daughter’s doctor and her potential nemesis.

‘Will you be using fibreglass?’ she asked, quieting any sign of emotion. Her heart was no longer beating madly and the butterflies were one by one exiting her stomach. She was proud of herself for so quickly once again gaining control of the situation. Although she was still disturbed the situation had presented in the first place.

Jet lag, she quickly told herself. Definitely jet lag.

‘If Bea needs a cast we’ll use fibreglass and, since it will be difficult to expect Bea to keep it dry, I’ll use a waterproof lining too,’ Charlie told her.

‘Billy had blue but I don’t like blue,’ Bea said softly, looking down at her arm.

‘We have pink and yellow and I think red too,’ Charlie responded with his mouth curving to a half-smile and that did not go unnoticed by Juliet.

‘I like red for Chrithmath...but pink ith pretty... I want pink,’ Bea announced.

Juliet smiled at her daughter. As she lifted her head her eyes met Charlie’s eyes staring back at her and her heart once again began to pick up speed. It was madness for certain. The intensity of his gaze wouldn’t allow her to look away. It was as if there was something deeper, something hidden behind the outer arrogance. Warmth and kindness seemed almost trapped inside him.

And she couldn’t ignore, no matter how much she didn’t want it to be true, and how much she’d fought it over the years, that there was a tiny part of her craving warmth and kindness from a man like Charlie.