that the rotor was dangerous.
Maybe he still thought she was deranged, Gina decided. He must think there was a possibility she might run into the blades.
She wouldn’t. She knew about helicopters. She’d flown with the Remote Rescue Service before.
So she stood and she waited, but she didn’t have long to wait. A man was emerging from the passenger seat, his long body easing out onto the gravel. He hauled a bag out after him, then turned.
Her world stopped.
Cal.
CHAPTER TWO
FOR how long had she dreamed of this moment? For how long had she thought of what she might say?
Her prepared speech was no longer appropriate. She’d accepted that three nights ago when she’d seen him back at Crocodile Creek, so maybe it was just as well that there were things to say and do now that had nothing to do with their past.
He was past the slowing rotor blades. He was almost by her side.
He stopped.
And he saw who he was facing.
‘Gina.’
The word was a blank expression of pure shock.
He’d had less warning than she. She at least knew that he was in the same part of the world as she was. She’d seen him only three days ago. But Cal hadn’t seen her for five years.
He’d hardly changed, she thought. He was a big man, long and lean and tough. He always had been.
Information about Cal’s background had been hard to glean, but she knew enough. His parents had been farmers on a holding that had been scarcely viable. His mother had abandoned them early. Cal had been brought up to hard times and hard work, and it showed. His bronzed skin was weathered, almost leathery. His deep brown eyes crinkled at the edges, and his strongly boned face spoke of the childhood he’d talked about reluctantly, a childhood where his first memory had been of gathering hay in the blazing sun before a storm on Christmas morning, heaving bales that had been almost as big as he’d been before he had been old enough to stop believing in Santa Claus.
Before he’d been old enough to stop hoping that one day things could change.
But they hadn’t. He hadn’t. He hadn’t changed a bit.
Yet she still loved him. She looked into his shocked face and she felt her heart break all over again.
How could she still love him?
Five years of heartbreak.
She had to move on. He had a life to lead and so did she. There was no room here for emotion.
But… His burnt red, tightly curled hair was just the same as her son’s.
Concentrate on medicine, she told herself fiercely. Use the medical imperative. Medicine had been her lifesaver for five long years and it would be her lifesaver again.
And as for loving?
Get over it.
‘Cal, there’s a baby.’
He was staring at her as if he were seeing a ghost. She might be moving on, but he hadn’t yet. How could he?
‘What the hell are you doing here?’
The harsh words were like a blow and she found herself physically flinching.
But she had to move past this. The baby’s life was too important to waste time on non-essentials.
‘I’ve been at the rodeo,’ she told him. Somehow. It was almost impossible to make her voice work at all, but when she managed it came out expressionless. Businesslike. ‘I found a baby,’ she managed.
‘You found a baby.’ Shock was still the overriding emotion.
‘It’s wrapped in a windcheater, under her T-shirt.’ Pete had moved into helpful mode now. He was looking from Gina to Cal and back again, as if he couldn’t figure out why they weren’t moving. As indeed they must. ‘She says some woman must have dropped it in the bush.’
‘What—?’
‘I need oxygen,’ Gina told him, hauling herself even more into medical mode and willing Cal to follow. ‘Cal, the baby needs urgent help if he’s to survive. He’s badly cyanosed. His breathing is way too shallow—he’s tiring while I watch.’
She still hadn’t pulled the baby from under her T-shirt so he was just a bulge under her bloodstained clothing. No wonder she didn’t have Cal’s belief. She must look crazy. ‘He’s only hours old. He’s lost blood. He’s prem, I think, and he’s not perfusing as he should. Blue lips, blue fingernails. Heartbeat seems far too rapid. Do you have equipment?’
She watched as Cal caught himself. As he finally managed to flick an internal switch.
‘A baby.’ His eyes dropped to the bulge and his deep eyes widened. He was taking in the whole scene, and it wasn’t pretty. ‘Not yours?’
‘Not mine.’ A little blood could go a long way and she was aware that she looked so gory she might well be a mother who’d given birth only hours before. And maybe she looked shocked and pale to go with it.
‘I need oxygen, and I need it fast.’
‘We have an incubator on board. Everything we need.’ The pilot of the chopper—a guy in a flight suit—was coming toward them now, carrying more equipment.
Medical mode won.
‘Let’s move.’
They moved.
The next ten minutes were spent working as once they’d worked together long ago. The pilot—a youngish guy Cal referred to as Mike—was a paramedic and he was good, but with a baby this tiny they needed every ounce of skill they all possessed.
She and Cal were still a team, Gina thought fleetingly as she searched for and found a tiny vein for the intravenous drip. Newborn babies had such a tiny amount of blood that even a small loss could be catastrophic. He had to have replacement fluid. Meanwhile, Cal had a paediatric mask over the tiny face, using the attached bag to assist breathing. His breathing slowed almost at once. From an abandoned baby with nothing, this little one was suddenly being attached to every conceivable piece of medical technology they could use.
Maybe he’d need them all. Because when Cal hooked him to the heart monitor and she watched his heart rate, she winced.
‘There’s something going on,’ she murmured. ‘That heartbeat’s too fast and with this level of cyanosis…’
‘You’re thinking maybe pulmonary stenosis?’
‘Maybe. Or something worse, God forbid. We need an echocardiogram.’
‘Yeah.’ He cast her a doubtful look. ‘We’ve done all we can here. We need to get him back to the base.’
She hesitated. Yes. They needed to get the baby to help. But…where did that leave her?
For the first time since she’d found the baby, there was a tiny sliver of time to consider. The baby was being warmed and he was hooked to oxygen and an intravenous drip. He was as stable as she could make him—for now. Somehow she made herself block out the fact that Cal was watching her as she forced herself to think through what should happen next.
Should she stay involved?
Now was the time to step back—if she could.
There were three factors coming into play here.
First, she badly needed transport. Once she reached Crocodile Creek, she could get a coach to the outside world. Maybe she could even still catch her flight home.
Secondly, more importantly, this baby needed her. Or he needed someone with specialist training.
‘Is