a full clinic this morning.’ She gave a wave of her hand. ‘I’ll speak to her, you don’t need to worry.’ She listened while he finished the call, glancing over the medical records in front of her. Everything seemed good: no underlying conditions; no obvious problems with the baby. All antenatal care meticulously charted. Dr Blair was obviously no slouch—but then, this was the President’s baby.
She reached over to grab the receiver as he hung up, her hand brushing against his. A delicious little zing shot up her arm. One that she hadn’t felt in— how long? He must have felt it too as their eyes locked. And Abby stayed there. Frozen in that second in time. A whirlwind of electric memories all came back instantly—the long, lazy afternoons they’d spent together, the easy, comfortable relationship that they’d had together, the times when they’d both opened their mouths to speak and both said the same thing simultaneously, and the long, hot nights they’d spent locked in each other’s arms. In that instant she was twenty-four again, her long blonde hair blowing in the wind as they’d stood at the top of the hill in Washington and he’d promised that he would stay with her for ever. A promise that had soon been broken. Broken on that same hill only a few months later. A promise that had broken her heart and sent her tumbling into an abyss.
But time had passed now. Time that appeared to have etched a few fine lines into Luke’s forehead, making him seem older and maybe a little more careworn.
‘Hello? Hello? Is someone there?’
Abby jolted from the daydream she’d been hiding in and stared at the phone receiver in her hand. She’d dialled the number automatically without even realising that she’d done it.
‘Hi, David, it’s Abby Tyler here. I’ve got a bit of an obstetric emergency. I wondered if you would mind coming in for a consult?’
A smile danced across her lips as she listened to the voice at the end of the phone. She could sense Luke’s eyes on her, willing her not to say anything that would reveal the identity of their patient.
‘Ten minutes would be great. Thanks, David.’
She replaced the phone and grinned. ‘That’s our emergency obstetrician. He’ll be here soon.’
Luke leaned back against the nearby wall and folded his arms across his wide chest. His brow furrowed suspiciously. ‘Why do I get the feeling you’re not telling me something, Abby?’
She shook her head and winked at him. ‘You’ll see.’
A wave of fear swept across Luke’s chest. ‘No funny stuff, Abby. He’s definitely an obstetrician?’
‘Oh, yes, he’s definitely an obstetrician.’ One of the nearby nurse practitioners walked up quickly and touched Luke’s arm.
‘Dr Storm?’
He nodded swiftly.
‘We’ll be set up for you in the next ten minutes, I’m just going to get the patient.’ She nodded towards Abby. ‘Dr Tyler will tell you where we are.’ She carried on down the corridor and into the trauma room to collect Dr Blair.
‘Some things never change.’ Abby surveyed the surrounding chaos around her. Her once peaceful emergency department looked as if it had been invaded by a black-suited army.
‘What?’ Luke glanced around him.
‘Storm by name, Storm by nature.’
‘You know I hate it when you say that.’
‘That makes it all the more fun.’ She watched as one black-suited man talked into his jacket lapel, while holding his finger to his ear, as if listening for a reply. She raised her eyebrow at Luke. ‘We still have a problem here, Luke.’
‘What do you mean?’ The last thing he needed was more problems.
‘I’m a paediatrician. I do children—kids.’ She wiggled her hand in the air. ‘I do some babies but certainly not early babies. Not neonates. We might have an obstetrician but what we really need is a neonatologist. And I’m not that.’ She shook her head. ‘This really isn’t my specialty.’
Luke folded his arms across his chest. ‘I’ve never known you to run from a challenge.’
Abby waved her hand around her. ‘In an emergency situation I could probably muddle through. But if the baby needs supported ventilation then we just don’t have the facilities, and this is the President’s baby, Luke.’
‘I know that.’ He ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. ‘Well, what the hell are you doing here? Mendocino Valley, of all places?’ His arm swept outwards across the expanse of the department.
Abby was instantly irritated. ‘What do you mean by that?’
Luke tilted his head. ‘Last time I saw you, you had just been offered the job of a lifetime in San Francisco. Five years later I find you here, in some backwater clinic in the middle of nowhere. What happened, Abby?’
Abby shook her head and carefully closed the notes in front of her, bringing them up and clutching them to her chest. ‘Just shows how little you really knew me, Luke. It might well have been the job of a lifetime, but it wasn’t my job of a lifetime. You happened, Luke. You made me re-evaluate my life. And even though I didn’t think it at the time, you probably did me a favour. I love being here in Mendocino Valley. I do still work in San Francisco, but I only took the job because it means I can work here, in Pelican Cove, for twelve weeks a year. This is where I want to be.’
Luke’s cool eyes watched her carefully, a wave of guilt sweeping over him. For the second time in five minutes he wondered what she wasn’t telling him. She was holding the case notes to her chest as if she were protecting a closely guarded secret. The Abby Tyler he’d known had had the world at her feet. She’d been approached by three prestigious university hospitals to take part in their paediatric residency programmes. She’d been dedicated and focused. Something about this wasn’t quite right. Why would the woman who’d been top of her class and had had the pick of any job be working in a backwater place like this?
CHAPTER TWO
ABBY watched with a sinking feeling in her heart as the nitrazine paper turned the tell-tale shade of blue. She raised her head and gave Jennifer a rueful smile as she showed her the paper. ‘Well, I think we can safely say that your membranes have ruptured.’
‘They have?’
‘Yes. This paper turns blue when it comes into contact with amniotic fluid.’
Jennifer blew out a long, slow breath from her pursed lips. ‘It’s too early. What happens now?’
Abby snapped off her gloves, walking quickly to the sink to wash her hands. She finished and sat down at the side of the bed next to Jennifer, trying to work out what to tell her.
‘It won’t really be up to me, it will be up to Dr Fairgreaves—the obstetrician that’s coming to see you. I just needed to confirm your membranes had ruptured so I can give him the whole picture.’
‘Do you need to examine me any further?’ Jennifer gave a little grimace and Abby knew exactly what she meant.
She shook her head. ‘No, actually, that wouldn’t be a good idea right now. Ideally what we want to do right now is to delay you going into labour for as long as possible.’
‘Tell it to me straight, Dr Tyler.’
Abby leaned over and held Jennifer’s hand. ‘There are a number of things for Dr Fairgreaves to consider.’ She held up the buff-coloured folder. ‘From your notes I see that you’re currently 31 weeks and 4 days. He may decide to give you some steroids to help mature your baby’s lungs in case of early delivery. He might also decide to give you some antibiotics to help prevent infection.’
‘Am I going to deliver early?’
Abby shook her head. ‘I’m