The Midwife's Christmas Miracle

by Sarah Morgan

  Her eyes drifted shut and suddenly she felt as though she were falling. Her head spun, her body felt suddenly weak and everything inside her was either pounding or fluttering.

  Never before, in her entire adult life, had she felt like this.

  By the time he finally lifted his head, she couldn’t remember why she’d been crying. She couldn’t remember anything.

  ‘Oh… You… I should go,’ she muttered in a feeble attempt to regain some sort of control.

  ‘Stay,’ he breathed, his mouth inches from hers. ‘Stay the night with me and we’ll spend tomorrow together. You don’t need to go.’

  Her senses shimmered with awareness and everything weakened. She didn’t want to feel it. She didn’t want to feel anything. Feeling meant vulnerability and vulnerability just meant pain. ‘Work tomorrow. I have to go…home…’ She stumbled over the word because no one in their right mind could really apply that word to a grotty room with damp patches on the walls and a threadbare carpet.

  ‘Tomorrow,’ he groaned, bringing his mouth against hers again. ‘You can go home tomorrow.’

  How had he ever learned to kiss like that? she wondered dreamily as his mouth transported her to a different place entirely. Threadbare carpets and cranky landlords were forgotten as she was enveloped in a sensual cloak of erotic anticipation. Suddenly everything seemed perfect, even though things were about as far from perfect as they could get.

  ‘Upstairs…’ Jake murmured, tugging at the jumper, and she suddenly froze and shook her head. She couldn’t let him remove the jumper. If he removed the jumper then he’d see—

  ‘No—really, we can’t.’

  ‘Why not? You’ve already said that there’s no one at home to worry about you.’ His hands were warm on the bare skin of her back and she pulled away quickly.

  She almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. But at the same time she wanted to cry. Why did he have to come into her life now, when there was absolutely no room for him?

  ‘I suppose this is the point where I’m supposed to apologise for rushing you.’ His voice was soft. ‘But I’m not going to apologise for doing something that felt completely right.’

  She bit her lip and waited for the frantic bump of her heart to slow to something approaching normal levels. ‘Did I see you bring a mince pie into the room?’

  His mouth was still close to hers. ‘Are you changing the subject?’

  ‘Yes.’ She wished he wouldn’t look at her like that. There was a sexy gleam in those wicked blue eyes that made it almost impossible to concentrate. ‘I’m hungry.’

  He hesitated briefly and then sat back. ‘You have a ferocious appetite for a woman,’ he drawled, moving away from her and reaching for the plate. ‘Anyone would think you haven’t eaten for a month.’

  She gave an awkward laugh and helped herself from the plate. ‘They’re good. Did you make them?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’m a man. I can cook the basics but I draw the line at mince pies. These are courtesy of my sister, who filled my freezer when she was here last.’

  ‘Is that the same sister who is the mother of those children?’ She glanced across at the photograph and he nodded.

  ‘Jessica.’

  Miranda sighed. What would it be like, she wondered, to have a sister to fill your freezer?

  She ate another two and decided that any more would appear greedy so she stopped and snuggled back against the sofa. Suddenly she felt deliciously full and alarmingly drowsy.

  ‘Five minutes,’ she murmured, closing her eyes. ‘Just five minutes and then I’m going to have to go home.’

  And as she finished speaking, she fell asleep.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE telephone woke him from a delicious dream of being wrapped in silky dark hair and kissed by a warm, soft mouth.

  Cursing softly, still half-asleep, Jake reached out and answered it. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Mr Blackwell?’

  He recognised the voice of the senior midwife on the obstetric unit and was instantly awake. ‘Ruth?’ He glanced round his living room and realised that he was alone. Where was Miranda? She’d fallen asleep and he’d covered her in blankets and then proceeded to fall asleep next to her. Only there was no sign of her now. And the weak, winter sunlight shining through the windows told him that it was morning.

  ‘Jake—are you still there?’

  Trying to ease the ache from his shoulders, he forced himself to concentrate on the phone. ‘Yes, I’m here. What’s happening?’

  Was she using the bathroom?

  ‘I’ve got a nightmare going on here, that’s what’s happening. I’ve just admitted a woman who was hoping for a home birth—fifth baby. But the last one was delivered by Caesarean section.’

  Jake struggled to make sense of what she was saying. ‘Fifth baby?’ His brain was still foggy with sleep and his shoulders ached. He hadn’t slept on a sofa since he’d been a student and now he remembered why. ‘She doesn’t sound like the best candidate for a home birth.’

  ‘Which is presumably why she didn’t register with anyone,’ Ruth said wearily. ‘She was staying with her parents for Christmas and she’s just turned up here in labour because her mother-in-law has bullied her into it. Very stroppy. Hates hospitals. Hates doctors. I’ve managed to persuade her to let me check the foetal heart rate and there’s some bradycardia. I’m not very happy about her really and I don’t want to call Mr Hilton because I think she’s going to be quite difficult to manage and you’re good with difficult patients and he’s not.’

  Merry Christmas, Jake.

  He closed his eyes and breathed out heavily. ‘All right—what else?’

  ‘You’re not going to like the next bit of news.’

  ‘I wasn’t crazy about the last bit.’ He smothered a yawn. ‘Go on.’

  ‘Lucy Knight’s waters have broken.’

  Lucy Knight? Jake rubbed his eyes with his fingers, trying to wake himself up. The penny dropped. ‘Oh, hell—Lucy. She’s only thirty-four weeks. When?’

  ‘She called us early this morning.’

  ‘Is she on her way in?’

  ‘She’s here already. Mr Hilton was prowling around and wanted to see her, but I said you were coming in today.’

  ‘You’re a star.’ Having a colleague like Edgar Hilton was of dubious benefit. The man was a revered obstetrician with myriad publications to his name, but he was also renowned for his inability to let a mother labour without interference. It was a subject on which he and Jake disagreed at regular intervals. ‘So is she having contractions?’ He kept the phone to his ear as he wandered through to the kitchen, listening as the senior midwife outlined the situation. ‘And you’re sure it’s amniotic fluid? OK—well, put her on the monitor and I’ll be in as quickly as I can.’

  ‘I feel guilty asking you. You’re not supposed to be working today.’

  Jake prowled round the kitchen, still holding the phone to his ear. No sign of Miranda. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Ruth. It’s my job.’

  When had she left? During the night or early this morning?

  ‘Well, even you’re allowed a day off.’

  ‘I had a day off. Christmas Day.’ And it had turned out to be better than he’d ever hoped. Finally, he’d met a woman who fascinated him in every way. And now she’d vanished. Why had she vanished? He knew that she was interested in him too. Was it because he’d rushed her? Was that why she’d left? Pondering the facts, he reached for a jumper that he’d left over the back of one of the chairs. ‘Give me ten minutes to shower and sort myself out here and then I’ll be in.’

  He replaced the receiver and sprinted upstairs, calling Miranda’s name and checking in the bedrooms and the bathrooms. There was no sign of her.

  She’d gone.

  And he had absolutely no idea where because he hadn’t had the sense to take her address. Hadn’t seen the need, because he’d had no idea that she was going to perform a vanishing act.

  Damn.
r />   And now he had to go into the hospital because he didn’t want to leave Lucy Knight to the tender mercies of Edgar Hilton and he didn’t like the sound of the woman who’d planned to deliver her fifth baby at home. It promised to be a long and tiring day.

  Cursing long and fluently, he showered quickly and then dressed and went to the kitchen to find his car keys.

  Her bicycle had gone and there was a note on his windscreen that just said, ‘Thank you.’

  Thank you for what? Rescuing her? Kissing her?

  No surname, no phone number, no address. Nothing to tell him where to find her again.

  Miranda.

  It was only the second time in his life that he’d felt instantly and powerfully drawn to a woman. The first had been Christy, and since then he’d virtually given up hope of finding anyone who interested him on anything other than a physical level.

  Until yesterday.

  Everything about Miranda had fascinated him. He’d always thought of himself as a man who understood women, but he’d found her complex and unpredictable. She’d shown strength and courage where other women would have panicked, but then she’d shown cynicism way beyond her years where other women would have been dreamily romantic. And what about her family? When he’d found her on the mountain, she’d said that she didn’t have any family, but most people had some family somewhere. Had she fallen out with them? He frowned as he read the note again and then crumpled it up and stuffed it into his pocket.

  He intended to find out. And he intended to find out why she’d left without leaving him her phone number or address. She’d felt as strongly as he did, he knew that for sure, so why the secrecy?

  What did she have to hide?

  What was she afraid of?

  Muttering about the complexities of women, Jake drove towards the hospital, mindful of the icy roads.

  He was going to track her down, he vowed as he drove through the gates of the hospital and pulled up in a space marked with his name.

  Complex she may be, but there’d been a powerful connection between them and he wasn’t about to let that go.

  He strode onto the labour ward minutes later to be greeted by Ruth, the midwife who had phoned him.

  He lifted a hand and tugged gently at the tinsel in her greying hair. ‘Is that a new look?’

  ‘It’s my Christmas look,’ she said primly, lifting a hand to protect the tinsel, ‘and I don’t welcome any of your usual sarcastic comments. You’re lucky I’m even trying to look festive, given what’s going on in this place at the moment.’

  ‘Me? Sarcastic?’ Jake went through to his office and frowned at the pile of papers on his desk. He’d only had one day off, for goodness’ sake. How could so much paperwork have accumulated so quickly? ‘So—how’s our Lucy?’

  ‘Scared,’ Ruth said frankly, handing him a fat set of notes. ‘You know what happened last time, although not here, of course, thank goodness. The baby was stillborn and she was utterly devastated. She’s afraid the same thing is going to happen.’

  Jake lifted his gaze to hers. ‘We’re not going to let that happen. I probably ought to warn you now that if her waters have broken then my threshold for inducing her is very low.’

  ‘Usually you do expectant management.’

  ‘Usually women don’t have Lucy’s history. She’ll probably go into labour on her own anyway, but we’ll keep a close eye on her. Just as a matter of interest, what’s the bed state on SCBU?’

  ‘They’ve got room,’ Ruth said immediately. ‘I checked earlier because I knew you’d ask me that question.’

  ‘I’m that predictable?’

  ‘You’re that thorough.’ Ruth’s gaze softened. ‘It’s why you’re such a brilliant obstetrician, Jake. You treat every woman as an individual case, regardless of protocol. And you don’t miss anything.’

  ‘Let’s hope not. How’s your staffing situation?’ He knew that the whole hospital had been affected by the flu bug that was going around, and Obstetrics was no exception.

  ‘It’s been better but I’ve got a lovely bank nurse working today. Sweet girl. Smiley and calm. She’s going to be with us for a while, hopefully. At least over the holiday period.’

  ‘Good. Jake nodded. ‘Lucy needs someone calm.’

  ‘You know that Lucy wants to have a vaginal delivery…’

  Jake sighed and dragged his fingers through his hair. ‘Yes, I know she does. Obviously it’s what we all want. It’s the way babies are supposed to be born.’

  Ruth grinned at him. ‘For an obstetrician, you’re a revelation, do you know that?’

  ‘I can’t understand why you think I gain any enjoyment from increasing my workload,’ Jake drawled, and she gave a little shrug.

  ‘All I’m saying is that it’s lovely to work with a senior doctor who is on the same wavelength. And Lucy feels it, too. Just knowing you were coming in calmed her down,’ Ruth told him. ‘She trusts you.’

  Jake gave a wry smile. ‘No pressure, then.’

  ‘Your job is one long pressure,’ Ruth replied as they walked down the corridor. ‘I’ve put her in Suite 1 because it’s more homely and I think she’ll find it less stressful than some of the other rooms. She’s not bleeding but she’s had some funny pains off and on. They’ve got a bed on the ward if you want to keep her in.’

  ‘Husband with her?’

  Ruth nodded. ‘Of course. And he’s more anxious than she is.’

  ‘Not surprisingly.’

  Ruth paused outside the door. ‘How was Christmas, by the way?’

  For a moment Jake had a vision of a beautiful, mysterious woman with clouds of dark hair and a soft, tempting mouth that tasted as sweet as it looked. ‘Christmas was interesting.’

  Ruth raised an eyebrow. ‘Meaning?’

  ‘Meaning that it was interesting.’ Not wanting to elaborate, Jake pushed open the door of the labour suite and stopped dead. Miranda was sitting on the bed, talking to Lucy.

  His Miranda.

  He blinked and checked that he wasn’t hallucinating. Same ebony hair, same pale skin and soft pink mouth.

  The mouth that he’d kissed and explored in sensual detail the night before.

  For a moment he just stared at her stupidly, trying to work out what she was doing there. To the best of his recollection, he hadn’t revealed where he worked or what his job was so she couldn’t possibly have followed him.

  ‘This is Miranda Harding.’ Ruth’s curious expression told him that something of his shock must have shown in his face. ‘She’s a midwife and she’s going to be doing bank work with us for a while.’

  Midwife? She was a midwife?

  ‘Hello, Miranda.’ Somehow Jake managed to keep any trace of irony out of his tone and he noted the faint tinge of colour in her cheeks with interest. It was quite obvious that she wasn’t pleased to see him.

  He gritted his teeth. Well, of course she wasn’t pleased to see him. If she’d wanted to see him, presumably she wouldn’t have stolen away in the middle of the night without leaving a number.

  What exactly was she afraid of?

  They were going to have a conversation, he promised himself, sooner rather than later.

  ‘Miranda, this is Mr Blackwell, one of our consultants,’ Ruth murmured, her eyes still on Jake’s face. Questioning. ‘He’s going to be looking after Lucy.’

  Miranda cleared her throat but it was Lucy who spoke, cutting through the mounting tension in the room.

  ‘Oh, Mr Blackwell, I feel so guilty, dragging you away from your Christmas. It’s Boxing Day. You should be at home with your family.’

  ‘Don’t feel guilty, Lucy.’ Jake was still looking at Miranda. ‘I’d finished all the food and that’s the important bit.’ With a huge effort he turned his attention to his patient, promising himself that he’d deal with Miranda later. ‘You were fine when I saw you in clinic last week so when did all this start?’

  ‘Christmas Eve. I did a bit of last-minute shopping with my mum and I had a bit of
pain but I didn’t really think anything of it. Then, this morning, my waters broke.’

  ‘Plenty of movements from the baby?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Lucy nodded. ‘I’ve been counting, just like you told me to.’

  Jake smiled. He’d been monitoring Lucy right the way through her pregnancy, and he liked her a lot. ‘But no pains?’

  ‘Nothing since Christmas Eve.’ Lucy frowned. ‘We had a quiet day yesterday, ate too much turkey, you know the sort of thing. Then I had an early night but when I woke up this morning my waters broke all over the bathroom floor. Gushed everywhere. Very embarrassing thing to happen.’ She chewed her lip, her eyes huge and anxious. ‘It’s bad news, isn’t it? Is the baby going to come early?’

  Jake’s gaze was steady. ‘Very probably, but we’ll try and keep him inside you for as long as possible. The first thing I’m going to do is arrange for you to have a steroid injection. That will help the baby’s lungs in the event that he’s delivered early.’

  ‘All right.’ Lucy’s hands were curled into fists in her lap. ‘What else?’

  ‘I’m going to run some tests and then I’ll decide. You’re going to need to stay in, I’m afraid, for now at least.’ He turned to Miranda, his expression cool. ‘Can you arrange for her to have 12 milligrams of betamethasone IM straight away? And contact the ward and arrange for a bed.’

  She avoided looking him in the eye. ‘Of course. Could you write the betamethasone on the chart for me?’

  Why wouldn’t she look at him? It wasn’t as if they’d done anything except kiss. Was it really so embarrassing and awkward? He wrote on the drug chart and handed it to her.

  ‘I’m going to keep an eye on you for a while, Lucy. See what happens. If there’s no sign of any activity, I might let you go home tomorrow.’

  ‘You’re not going to induce me?’

  ‘Not yet.’ Jake’s tone was both gentle and reassuring. ‘If we can hang on another week, it would be better for the baby. Better a week in your tummy than a week in an incubator.’

  Lucy gave a brave smile and a nod. ‘Yes.’

  He heard the catch in her voice and sat down on the edge of her bed. Her hands were still curled into fists and he took hold of them gently and uncurled them. ‘Relax, Lucy.’ His voice was sympathetic as he rubbed her hands between his and warmed them. ‘I know you’re worried but I’m not going to let you out of my sight until I’m satisfied that all is well.’ He waved a hand around the delivery suite, his gaze sardonic. ‘Enjoy the surroundings. Order room service.’ He turned to Miranda who had stood up while he’d been talking to Lucy and now had her back to him. ‘I want to do an ultrasound, please.’