patient, while the first EMT was still doing compressions. Sophie watched his hands, stronger than hers.
Sophie slid her arms around her stomach. “I’m pregnant,” she said. “Eighteen weeks.”
The EMT helped her to sit down on the road, out of the way of the others.
The man’s colleague, still working on the girl, looked back. “I have a pulse. Let’s get her in the chopper.” He helped the others strap their patient to a backboard.
Sophie’s EMT touched her arm. “An ambulance is on the way for you. She’ll be fine. Are you bleeding?”
Sophie shivered as the cold cut into her. “I don’t think so.”
“How hard did you strike your head?”
“I’m not sure.”
“We’ll check for concussion at the hospital. For now, follow my finger.” She did. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-five.”
“Where do you live?” he asked. “Street address?”
“Nine-ten East Portland Street in Boston.”
“Good enough. Can we call your husband? I think I stepped on your phone.”
Jack’s face, expressionless, flashed in front of her. She tried to breathe. “No husband. No one to call.” She stared across the road at the pieces of glass and plastic and a hot-pink phone cover, instead of looking into her own thoughts.
With any luck, Jack wouldn’t be on duty today.
JACK BANNING MET the chopper, where the patient had gone into arrest for the second time from loss of blood. After the crew resuscitated her, he took a report from the flight’s RN. Running beside his patient’s gurney toward the E.R. entrance, he was forced to veer out of the way of an incoming ambulance.
When the doors opened, he saw Sophie.
It wasn’t really her, of course. Since he’d left Boston, Jack had seen her face everywhere he went. Guilt, he figured.
Not that guilt would change his mind.
Sophie would have to accept his financial assistance and hope a better man came into her life.
Jack looked back at his patient, assessing on the fly. He couldn’t help glancing at the ambulance.
It was still Sophie.
Staring at him, white with shock, blank.
Nausea hit him so hard he was almost sick on the cement. He took deep breaths that didn’t provide nearly enough oxygen.
Was she hurt? And her baby... He didn’t let himself think of the child. Another doctor would take care of Sophie and the—her—baby. What was she doing here?
“Dr. Banning.” The trauma nurse assigned to his team spoke his name. No one ever had to focus him, and she sounded alarmed.
Sophie had come after him when he’d rejected her and the baby—it was completely out of character. He pushed thoughts of her aside, clearing his mind and hardening his heart.
Emotionless, capable, in charge, he knew what to do next.
“O.R. Two is waiting for us.”
* * *
“YOUR BABY LOOKS GREAT.” Dr. Everly glanced up from the ultrasound, where Sophie’s unborn daughter appeared to be practicing for a future in Olympic diving. “Your blood pressure and pulse are a little elevated.”
“Natural, considering I was just in an accident.”
“And you’re bruised. I’d like you to stick around town for a few days. Were you headed home for the holidays?”
Relief helped to calm Sophie. Dr. Everly wasn’t worried about the baby if she was going to let her leave the hospital. “I’m visiting.”
Sophie tried to wipe away the tears she couldn’t hold back. Who knew if they were tears of joy or sadness? All this time, she’d been stunned at Jack’s sudden exit from her life. She’d been unable to believe the man who worked miracles in the operating room could be so cold to a woman he’d professed to love, who’d loved him.
“Stop worrying.” The doctor squeezed her shoulder. “I wouldn’t lie to you, and someone told me you’re an E.R. nurse. You’d know if you were in trouble.”
“I’m happy.” Happy didn’t exactly describe everything she was feeling. She pulled the sheet up to her chin. The doctor whisked a tissue out of a box on the counter and passed it to her before reaching for the switch on the ultrasound machine. Sophie caught her wrist. “Could I listen for a few more minutes?”
“No problem. Where are you staying?”
“I have a reservation at a B and B. Esther’s House?”
“Esther is an old friend of mine. She’ll send someone to pick you up.” The doctor began inputting notes on her tablet at the counter. “Is your car drivable?”
Shrugging, Sophie discovered her muscles were as tender as if she’d thrown herself into a blender. “I don’t even know what happened to it. An EMT told me the tow truck driver would be in touch with a bill.”
Dr. Everly smiled ruefully. “My brother-in-law owns a body shop. I’ll see if they towed it to him. They might have impounded it, but impound at the police station consists of the two farthest spaces in their lot.” She made a note on the palm of her hand with her pen, but then looked up. “I’ll ask him to let you know if he has the car.”
After a quick grasp of Sophie’s hand, she went to the door. “I’ll call Esther’s to check in with you later tonight. Unless you’d rather stay in one of our fine rooms?”
“Not a chance.” Forcing a smile, when she was still fighting the urge to cry, Sophie swallowed hard. Naturally, she was emotional. Her baby had survived that crash. Sophie was a walking cesspool of hormones, and the man she’d been driving for hours to see had just looked at her as if they’d never met.
A fatherless daughter herself, she’d believed her child had a right to know her dad. Maybe she’d been mistaken.
“Why don’t you get dressed?” Dr. Everly suggested. “Esther’s car will be here by the time we discharge you.”
“Thank you, Dr. Everly.”
“Georgette. And that young lady in surgery should be thanking you. Word around the landing pad is you saved her life.”
Jack’s sharp features swam in front of Sophie’s eyes. Thank goodness the ultrasound only measured the baby’s heartbeat.
She pulled herself together. Coming here might have been an impulse she’d live to regret, but she could leave at any time. “My shirt got torn.” She plucked at the neck of her borrowed scrub top. “Do you think I can wear this out of here? I’ll wash it and return it after I get home.”
“No problem. I’m sure you can keep it.” The other woman opened the door, but then turned back. “Sophie, do you have anything else on your mind?”
She pressed her palms to her stomach, ignoring the slight tenderness in her wrists as she took consolation from the rapid heartbeat echoing in the small room. “No.”
“Call me if you have any problems. I’ll have your nurse put my cell number on your discharge instructions.”
* * *
TESSIE’S SURGERY WAS a success. No problems. Nothing unexpected.
Jack explained to her parents that their daughter would live to celebrate many more Christmases if they confiscated her phone. They went to see her, and he was