along…that Liam didn’t have a gnat’s worth of faith in her abilities. Again she told herself that he’d just been traumatized and was probably not his usual charming self.
She took a deep breath and forced an understanding smile. “Trust me, Lord Roderick, the baby will be fine. I really do have the situation under control.”
At his continued doubtful scowl and silence, she spoke up again, this time her words more clipped and pointed. “I may practice in a rural area, but I’ve still got all the skills necessary to be a doctor. There’s no time to poll the townspeople for an opinion of my abilities, but I’ve got a pretty darn good reputation. If you’ve got doubts about my credentials, however, my framed diplomas and certification documents are displayed over my desk in the next room.”
If Liam was chagrined by her mild sarcasm and felt an urge to apologize, Allie didn’t wait to find out. She fit the stethoscope to her ears and listened to the baby’s heart and lungs. Although slightly tachy, his pulse was strong and had a regular sinus rhythm. His respirations were a little shallow, but the airways sounded clear as a bell. There was nothing unexpected, nothing she couldn’t treat right there in the office.
Next she removed the oxygen mask—he was pinking up very nicely already—and checked the baby’s pupils and reflexes. They were normal. Then she gently moved the baby’s arms and legs, probing and testing for possible breaks or bruises. He seemed fine, but follow-up X rays at the hospital tomorrow would be a good idea.
During the entire examination, the baby didn’t make a peep. He just lay there, listlessly staring. Allie figured he didn’t have the energy to cry, but she’d soon fix that.
Doug came back in the meantime and confirmed her suspicions that he hadn’t bothered to call an ambulance at all. He’d decided to wait for Allie’s take on the situation. Despite everything else wrong with their relationship, at least Doug believed in her abilities as a doctor.
Now her ex-husband was standing at her elbow, looking uncomfortable as he held out the small quilt. Allie understood his discomfort. Grandma Lockwood had made and given the quilt to Allie in anticipation of a great-grandchild, and had died still believing that she and Doug would someday have a baby of their own. Allie had always intended to give the quilt to someone who could actually use it, but despite lots of friends and relatives having babies, she just couldn’t bring herself to part with such a precious gift. It would be like giving away a dream.
After Allie took the quilt, Doug handed a regularsize blanket to Liam. Liam had picked up Bea in his arms to cuddle and soothe her while Allie examined the baby, and now he quickly settled her in a chair by the door, tucking the blanket snugly around her from neck to toes.
Bea remained silent, but her worried look must have prompted Liam to say with a reassuring smile, “Don’t worry, love. No need for the hospital. The doctor says the baby’s going to be just fine.” Then he stooped and kissed her on the top of her head.
Bea’s pinched little face relaxed a bit. Now if only Bea’s father actually believed what he was saying, Allie thought wryly.
“Anything else you need before I go?” Doug asked.
“I’ve got premixed bottles of formula in that bottom cabinet in the kitchen by the fridge. You know, where I’ve always kept the bottled water? Heat one for a minute or so under the tap. Room temperature would normally be fine, but this little guy could use something warm.”
Doug hesitated, staring down at the baby with a worried look on his lean, tanned face. “Is he really going to be all right?”
Allie was glad he’d had the tact to whisper the question. “Yes,” she assured him. “If he doesn’t take the bottle, though, I’m going to do an IV. We need to get his blood sugar up and some fluids in him.”
Doug, still rooted to the spot, dragged a hand through his thick blond hair, his expression part disbelief and part grim fury. “Hell, Allie…who could have done this?”
Allie shook her head. “I don’t know. I thought I knew everyone who’s pregnant around here and I can’t imagine any one of them doing such a thing. Besides, if you’re pregnant, then suddenly you’re not, people are going to wonder what happened to the baby. It would have been a noticeable pregnancy, too, because this baby looks full term.”
“Well, whoever it was deserves to be strung up…or thrown naked into the same Dumpster on a night like this. Hopefully there’ll be plenty of evidence at the station that will help us find the mother.”
“Well, get me the bottle, so you can go,” Allie said. “I’d ask Lord Roderick, but he doesn’t know how to get around the house like you do.”
Doug flicked a surprised glance at Liam, obviously recognizing the famous name. The name was even more famous in Annabella than it was in other more sophisticated parts of the world—or perhaps it would be more correct to say “infamous.” Liam’s grandmother had a history with the town that had become local lore. Hazarding her first direct look at Liam since her reprimand, she saw, and thought she understood, his grimace. He hated being recognized.
“Doug…?” Allie prompted.
Doug left the room. Liam gave Bea another reassuring pat before walking back to stand next to Allie. “You should have let him go,” he said. “I think I could have found the kitchen if I’d tried. England’s another country, not another planet.” After an infinitesimal pause, he added, “Or maybe, because of my title, you don’t think I’ve ever been inside a kitchen?”
Allie looked up at him, surprised. “Believe me, I haven’t given any thought to what rooms you may or may not frequent, Lord Roderick. Why are you being so touchy? I know you’re stressed out over this. We all are. I didn’t mean to insult you…even though you don’t seem to mind insulting me.”
He looked equally surprised. “When did I insult you?”
“You didn’t think I knew what I was doing and was worried that I was going to—” she lowered her voice “—let the baby die.”
“No. No,” he objected. “It’s not that I thought you didn’t know what you were doing. It’s just that he’s so small, and he was so cold and so—” He stopped abruptly and shook his head, his disapproving scowl replaced by a more appropriate look—in Allie’s opinion—of sober concern. “Never mind. I’m sorry if I’ve been rude. But do you think a bottle is enough? Why not do an IV just to be sure?”
Softened by his apology, Allie altered her tone and answered patiently. “Despite what they show on all those hospital TV shows, starting an IV isn’t always the first thing a doctor does when a patient is brought in for emergency treatment, Lord Roderick.” She stooped to tuck the blanket around the baby and lift him gently into her arms. “I think we can—”
Her sentence trailed off as she absorbed the shock of an immediate, almost overwhelming surge of feeling for the child as she settled him against her chest and smiled down into his small face. He had the usual newborn look, complete with squinty eyes and a slightly misshapen head topped with sticky black hair.
Allie thought the baby was beautiful…cone-shaped head, squinty eyes and all. The feel of him, the welcome weight of him in her arms, was just like one of her dreams.
“You were saying, Doctor?”
Allie realized that Liam was staring at her, and his disapproving scowl was back. Caught feeling foolish and vulnerable as she drooled over her dream-baby, she tried to sound as professional as possible.
“As I was saying, I think we can stabilize this child without drugs or invasive procedures. His hypothermia is mild and he checks out normally in all other respects. He just needs to be wrapped up, snuggled in someone’s arms and given a warm bottle. If he’s too sluggish to suck, we’ll do an IV. Later, once his temperature’s risen sufficiently, we can put him in a warm bath and get that blood and gunk off him.”
Unable to resist the urge any longer, she threw her professional image to the wind and bent to