to see George, her paramedic, approaching the plane. She embraced George, who was like a brother to her.
“Good to see you, Doc. Good flight?” he asked, though Charlotte knew he wasn’t really that concerned about her flight. He was a pilot, too, and the Citation was like his baby. George moved away and stroked the side of the jet for good measure. “Any problems?”
“None. Your baby is fine and the flight was good.” She glanced back to see if Quinn was disembarking okay. He appeared to be, as he climbed stiffly out of the cockpit.
“Dr. Devlyn.” Charlotte waved him over, and Quinn strode over, his gaze intently focused on George. He didn’t respond. Charlotte gritted her teeth. “Quinn, this is George Atavik. He’s my paramedic and copilot. George, this is Dr. Devlyn, the specialist from Toronto.”
George grinned, flashing brilliant white teeth. His dark eyes lit with sincerity. “Good to meet you, Dr. Devlyn. Thanks for coming up this far north to help out.”
“The pleasure is all mine and, please, just call me Quinn,” he replied, shaking George’s hand. He glanced at her, his dark eyes twinkling mischievously, a look that spoke volumes, like he was undressing her right there on the spot, as he whispered, “Just Quinn.”
“George is Mentlana Tikivik’s brother,” Charlotte said, clearing her throat. Why she’d blurted that information out she didn’t know. It was like she wanted Quinn to know there was nothing between George and her. She watched for any sign of reaction from Quinn, but there was none. All he did was nod politely.
“I’ll take care of the plane, Doc Charley. I checked the weather satellite earlier and I was worried you were going to be delayed by that storm coming in from Labrador.” George chatted away, totally unaware of the tension Charlotte keenly felt hovering over them.
“I was, too, for a moment,” she answered absently.
“I’ll go and collect my bag,” Quinn said, walking back toward the plane, where people in the hangar were unloading his suitcase and some supplies Charlotte had brought up. So like him to be haughty.
It’s Quinn.
Even though she knew she shouldn’t follow him, Charlotte hurried after him.
“Are you still tired from the trip?” she asked.
“A bit,” Quinn answered. “Don’t you and George have to deal with the plane?”
“George can handle it. He’ll yell if I’m needed.”
“He seems like a nice fellow, I hope he makes you happy.”
Charlotte did a double take. Quinn thought she was with George and, despite the fact they’d once been intimate, was wishing her happiness. So unlike the selfish man he’d been when he was younger.
“Quinn, George is like a brother to me.” Again, why was she telling him that? She should’ve let him think George was her lover, and then she shuddered at the thought. She’d babysat George at one time and he’d been a terror. “Besides, George is too weird, too into his Westerns. I think that if given the chance, he’d trade in his paramedic bag for a saddle and six-shooter.” She said the last part loudly.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Clint Eastwood is da man!”
George called back.
A look of pleasure flashed momentarily across his face. “Well, that makes for a good partnership between physician and paramedic.”
“Doc Charley!” The frantic call made both Charlotte and Quinn spin around. Charlotte saw Lorna, the village midwife, come running into the hangar.
Charlotte didn’t need to be told. Her instinct kicked in and she grabbed her medical bag from the top of the pile of supplies. “What’s happened? Is it Mentlana?”
Lorna nodded. “She started bleeding, and I don’t know if it’s from the fetus, the placenta or something else.”
Oh, God, no.
Charlotte remembered the way she herself had almost bled to death when she’d lost her baby. Sweat broke out across her brow. Charlotte glanced at Quinn, who was standing close to her. His lips were pressed together in a firm line and he looked a little pale as he nodded his understanding, obviously ready to follow her lead.
“Where is she?” Charlotte asked.
“The clinic.” Lorna was wringing her hands nervously.
“Thanks, Lorna.” Charlotte started running, praying she wasn’t too late.
“Is everything okay, Charley?” Mentlana’s voice was anxious as Charlotte peeled off the rubber gloves and placed them in the toxic medical waste receptacle.
“Your cervix is irritated, that’s all.” Charlotte had been relieved on her arrival to see the blood loss was minimal, but enough to worry Lorna. Given all the things wrong with Mentlana and her high-risk pregnancy, Lorna had reacted quickly and done the right thing.
“Well, yours would be irritated, too, if you were carrying around an elephant.”
Charlotte chuckled. “I’m going to have Dr. Devlyn, the specialist from Toronto, perform an ultrasound to make sure there’s nothing wrong with the placenta or the baby. But the heartbeat is strong, and from the internal, the placenta is still in place. If it had been an abruption there would’ve been a lot more blood.”
And death. Charlotte kept that thought to herself. There was no sense in worrying the pregnant woman over nothing.
Mentlana visibly relaxed as she took her feet out of the stirrups and rearranged the sheet over her lower half. Charlotte ran her hands under the tap and scrubbed them thoroughly.
“Do you want me to get Genen? He’s probably climbing the walls.”
“Let him wait for a moment. I want to talk to you.”
Confused, Charlotte pulled her wheeled stool over to her friend’s side nonetheless. Mentlana was leaning up on one elbow, a serious look on her face.
Charlotte knew that look all too well. It meant business.
“What’s your question?”
“This doctor from Toronto, he’s the one, isn’t he?” Mentlana asked.
Charlotte’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”
Mentlana’s eyes narrowed, glinting as black as coal as she fixed Charlotte with the serious gaze that made Genen and George almost wet their pants. “Don’t lie to me, Charley. This is the guy, right? He’s the guy who broke your heart and left after you lost the baby. The one you wouldn’t bring home to meet us. The one who, if I wasn’t pregnant and in need of him, I’d give a stern kick to the crotch.”
Charlotte stood. Letting out an exasperated sigh, she scrubbed her hand over her face. “Yes. Dr. Devlyn is the one.”
Mentlana reached out and grabbed her hand. “I know how hard it is for you to trust him, to bring him here, and I know you’re doing it for me and the baby. Thank you.”
A sob caught in Charlotte’s throat but she controlled it. She forced a wobbly smile and smoothed Mentlana’s jet-black hair from her forehead. “I would do anything for you, even face the devil himself—or Devlyn, in this case.”
“Witty.” Lana chuckled. “Now I’m really interested in meeting him.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes and padded towards the door. “Well, he does have the bedside manner of a bull in a china shop, most days. Stay tight. I’ll bring him in to see you in a moment.”
“Tight, right.” Mentlana snorted as Charlotte shut the door to the exam room. Just as she’d thought, Genen was pacing, and the rest of the family was crowded into the small reception area of her clinic. Genen almost rushed her as she approached.
Charlotte