husband waited outside the surgical suite.
“Let’s bag her.” He laid the baby on a table and a manual resuscitator was placed in his hand.
“Come on, sweetheart.” The words whispered through his skull, with each squeeze of the Ambu bag. The tiny chest rose and fell. There was a heartbeat, but, so far, no effort at breathing on her own.
Going through his mental checklist, he had one of the nurses take over the bagging so he could test reflexes. He was gratified to see there were at least some reactions, though not what he would have liked. But babies’ brains weren’t fully developed. He’d seen some amazing recoveries in newborns even more premature than this one.
Most had not been deprived of oxygen for this long, however.
He glanced at his watch. Five minutes since delivery.
“Stop pushing air for a moment and let’s see what we’ve got.”
The nurse lifted the BVM and the whole world stopped breathing. At least Dean did. Then there was a gasp. And the kick of a small leg.
Suddenly the baby’s face screwed up tight, and she let out a squeaked puff of air. Her lungs reinflated, and it became a full-fledged cry. Joined by another. Then another.
The sense of relief couldn’t have been greater if it had been Dean’s own flesh and blood lying on that metal table. Because at least the new father wouldn’t have to mourn two deaths. And the baby’s mum, still on a ventilator behind them, might be able to save more lives through organ donation, which was what her husband said she would have wanted.
“Let’s take her down to Special Care to do the rest of the workup.” The sooner they got her into one of the incubators, the better for her tiny lungs. They would monitor her for a while to make sure she kept breathing and remained stable.
The second they arrived on the ward, Dean noticed Jess’s sister was in the room, seated beside her baby’s incubator, but she didn’t have exam gloves on. Nor did she have her hands through the openings so she could touch her baby’s skin. Instead, she just sat there slumped forward. Glancing at the observation window behind him, he spied Jess. Her face was turned away as if she were staring at something down the hall. Maybe she just couldn’t face looking at her sister.
He hadn’t spoken with Jess since that disastrous scene last night at the pub. Why the hell had he pulled something like that?
He had no idea.
Turning his attention back to his newest charge, he directed the staff as they hooked the newborn up to the monitors and checked the baby’s oxygen levels. So far, things were looking more hopeful than they had for the last half-hour.
“Let me know if anything changes.”
Satisfied that everything was under control with this particular baby, he headed over to where Jess’s sister sat and greeted her. When he asked if she wanted to interact with the baby she shook her head. “I don’t want to do anything that would hurt her.”
Something in her face tightened, and her eyes strayed toward the window.
Ahhh … so she did know her sister was there. When he turned his attention in that direction, he noted that Jess was now looking at both of them. And something in her stricken expression made his chest ache. Surely they could put what had happened between them last night aside—for a little while, at least. He motioned her inside. Jess hesitated, and he wondered if she might ignore him for a second, but, finally, she pushed through the door and slowly headed their way.
“I don’t want her here.” The low, angry words made him blink. The ache in his chest tightened even further.
These two women might look alike, but he’d been right earlier. The resemblance began and ended there.
“She’s your baby’s aunt,” he said.
“And she caused this.” Her hand swept around the room. “All of it.”
“She caused all of these babies’ problems?” He knew what she meant, but he wanted to hear her actually say the words. To say that she blamed Jess for what happened.
The woman’s head jerked as she looked up at him. “Of course not. But my baby is here because of her.”
When he realized Jess was close enough to have heard the ugly words, his heart hardened into a rock. The same rock he’d carried as a child when his father’s anger had come at him and his mum in the form of ridicule or through his fists. But when Jess made to turn around and flee, he reached out and caught her by the wrist before addressing Abbie again. “No. Your baby is here because she was born too early. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
The nurses working on the other baby threw them a curious glance, but he didn’t budge. Jess had worried herself sick over her niece as evidenced by her vigil over the incubator that first night. And the way she made sure the nursing staff had her mobile number and made them promise to ring her at the first hint of trouble.
It took repeated tugging before he got her close enough to slide his arm behind her back and hold her in place, and even then she looked as if she wanted to crawl under the nearest rock. Or the nearest incubator. But he was not going to let her run away the way he’d once done. She was going to stand and face this particular bully head-on. And unlike Dean when he was a child, she would not have to do that alone.
Right on cue, Abbie’s glance cut from one to the other before settling on the point of contact between the two of them. “Exactly what is going on here?”
Beneath his hand, Jess squirmed, and he was quite sure she wanted to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing. But she didn’t. Nor had she made the slightest effort to defend herself in the face of her sister’s ire.
Something swelled up inside of him—an urge to protect that was both familiar and foreign. Time to put someone firmly in her place. And he thought he knew the perfect way to do that. He was pretty sure Jess was going to kill him later, but he’d deal with that fallout when the time came.
He allowed his arm to drop, and when he glanced at her face, it was pink. Very pink. And it looked good on her.
One of the nurses came over to tell him the baby he’d worked on was settled in and seemed stable. “Good, thank you. I’ll keep an eye on her for a while.”
With that, the pair left the room, leaving just Dean, Jess and her sister.
Abbie again addressed them. “Does someone want to tell me what’s going on?”
Here went nothing.
“I take it Jess didn’t tell you?”
Two pairs of brown eyes swung to look at him.
“Tell me what?”
He draped his arm back around her shoulders. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart. Tell her.”
Jess’s mouth popped open, eyes widening in horror.
”What?”
“I’m sure they’ve wondered where you’ve been the last couple of nights.”
“Dean …” The warning in her voice was unmistakable. But he’d come too far to turn back now.
“Jess and I have been going out.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. They had been going out to the pub, after all. Her sister didn’t need to know that Jess had turned him down flat as far as anything else went.
“Going out. You expect me to believe that?”
Anger pumped through his veins at the open disbelief in Abbie’s voice. Suddenly, he was very sure he was doing the right thing.
And if this little farce got out? Well, worse things had been said about him—at least from what he’d heard here and there.
Leaning down to her ear, he whispered, “I’ll explain later. Just play along.”
Out