City Surgeon, Small Town Miracle. Marion Lennox

his hands firmly on her shoulders and pushed her back on the cushions. Which, she had to admit, felt excellent.

      This man was taking charge. Even if it was only for a moment, it’d do, she conceded. There were too many worries to fit in her head. He’d carried her, he’d cared for Gran, he was caring for her.

      So soak it in.

      She could lie back and imagine that this arrogant, bossy doctor could take all her worries away. He’d check her baby, tell her everything was fine, make sure Betty was pain free, reassure Angus, fix whoever was at the door, fix her world…

      Yeah, and pigs might fly. But, meanwhile, he’d said she wasn’t going anywhere and he meant it. She let herself relax against her cushions. She didn’t quite close her eyes but she almost did. If she shut her eyes the world might disappear.

      She wasn’t quite ready for that, she conceded. Not yet. Disappearing worlds were for Betty.

      But she wouldn’t mind if ninety per cent of hers went away.

      

      He was wasting time. The ultrasound was becoming urgent. He had to get to the door, tell whoever it was to wait and get back to his patient. To Maggie.

      But when he tugged the door wide he found a deputation. Mother, father, a scrawny little boy clinging to the mother’s jeans, and a baby.

      ‘The baby’s got a cold,’ the man said quickly, as if he was worried the door might be slammed in his face. ‘We’ve all had it, but she’s been bad all day and then she went limp. She looks okay now but the missus got scared. So I said we’ll stick her in the car and bring her here. Can Doc have a look?’

      This was a nightmare. He should tell them to go away.

      But Maggie had said she was the ambulance. Was she also the only local doctor?

      These people looked terrified. For good reason?

      He glanced down and saw the tiny child was swaddled in so much wool he could barely see her.

      ‘How long was she limp?’ he asked.

      ‘Only for a moment,’ the man said. ‘Ben here and me were watching telly while Cathy was feeding her in the bedroom. Cathy screamed but by the time I got there she was okay again. But Cathy’s that scared. Said she looked awful. We wrapped her up and brought her straight to Doc Maggie.’

      ‘Okay, unwrap her,’ Max said tersely. ‘Fast.’ He turned back to the living room, calling to Maggie. ‘Where’s your bathroom?’

      ‘Shall I come?’ Maggie called.

      ‘Stay where you are,’ he growled. The last thing Maggie needed was cross-infection, and she had to stay still. ‘Bathroom?’ he demanded again.

      ‘Door on the right of the hall,’ she called, sounding bewildered.

      He glanced again at the baby, touched her face lightly with the back of his hand, felt how hot she was and knew he was right. ‘You go in there,’ he told the frightened parents. ‘Strip off all her clothes and pop her into a tepid bath. Tepid. Not cold but not warm either. She’s running a fever. I’m guessing she’s had a febrile convulsion and she needs to get cool in a hurry. You’re to keep her in the bath and keep her cool until I come back. I have an emergency in the other room.’

      ‘But Doc,’ the man said. ‘We want Doc Maggie.’

      ‘Doc Maggie’s the emergency,’ he snapped. ‘I’m a doctor, too, and I’m all there is. I need to take care of her.’

      ‘How do we know you’re a doctor?’ the man said, fear and belligerence mixed. ‘We want Maggie.’

      ‘Pete,’ the woman said, and she’d peered past Max into the living room. Seen what was there. ‘Maggie’s pregnant. If anything happens to Maggie the whole community’s in trouble. Just thank God there’s another doctor. Shut up and do what he says.’

      

      Betty was asleep. Maggie was still slumped against the cushions, looking anxious. And exhausted. And pale.

      ‘Febrile convulsion?’ she queried.

      ‘I’m assuming so,’ he told her. ‘But I’ll check her when your baby’s been checked.’ He was worrying in earnest now. She was looking too shocked, too pale. If he’d messed around this long and she was bleeding…‘Lie back and let me see.’