‘I don’t need to be watched.’
‘Okay, promise I have nothing to worry about?’ He smiled again, and his smile… Wow. A girl could wake up to that smile and think it had been worth treading water for a night or more or more to find it. ‘You need to know you’re at risk of that cod liver oil if you break your promise,’ he warned, and his smile became wicked. Teasing.
But there was seriousness behind his words. She knew she had to respond.
‘I wasn’t trying to do anything silly.’ She tried to sound sure but it came out a whisper.
‘Pardon?’
‘I was not trying to suicide.’ Her second attempt came out loud. Very loud. The noises outside the cubicle stopped abruptly and she felt like hauling her bedclothes up to her nose and disappearing under them.
‘Your mother’s frantic. She’s on her way to Heathrow airport right now,’ Dr Chase told her. ‘With someone called Roger. Their plane’s due to leave in two hours unless I call to stop them.’
Forget hiding under the bedclothes. She dropped her sheet and stared at him in horror. ‘My mother and Roger?’
‘They sound appalled. They know you’re safe, but you’ve terrified them.’
‘Excellent.’
‘That’s not very-’
‘Kind? No, it’s not. My mother still wants me to marry Roger.’
‘This sounds complicated,’ he said, sounding like he was beginning to enjoy himself. Then someone murmured something out in the corridor and he glanced at his watch and grimaced. ‘Okay, let’s give you the benefit of the doubt, and let Roger and Mum sweat for a bit. What hurts?’
‘Nothing.’
‘You know, I’m very sure it does.’
She thought about it. He watched as she thought about it.
He saw more than she wanted him to see, she decided. His gaze was calm but intent, giving her all the time in the world to answer but getting answers of his own while he waited. She could see exactly what he was doing, but there was no escaping those calm, intelligent eyes.
‘My chest,’ she said at last, reluctantly.
‘There’s a bit of water in your lungs. We’ve X-rayed. It’s nice clean ocean water and you’re a healthy young woman. It shouldn’t cause problems but we’re giving you antibiotics in case, and you need to stay propped up on pillows and under observation until it clears. Your breathing’s a bit ragged and it’ll cause a bit of discomfort. We’re starting you on diuretics-something to dry you out a bit. There’ll be no long-term issues as long as you obey instructions.’
‘My arms…’
‘Harness,’ he said ruefully. ‘We try and pad ’em.’
‘We?’
‘New South Wales North Coast Flight-Aid.’
There was an echo-the way he said the name. Some time last night those words had been said-maybe even on the way up into the helicopter.
‘New South Wales North Coast Flight-Aid, ma’am, at your service.’
Same voice. Same man?
‘Were you the one who pulled me up?’ she asked, astounded.
‘I was,’ he said, modestly. ‘You were wet.’
‘Wet?’ She felt… disconcerted to say the least.
‘Six years in med school,’ he said proudly. ‘Then four years of emergency medicine training, plus more training courses than you can imagine to get the rescue stuff right. Put it all together and I can definitely state that you were wet.’ He took her wrist as he talked, feeling her pulse. Watching her intently. ‘So, arms and chest are sore. Toes?’
‘They’re fine. Though I was a bit worried about them last night,’ she admitted.
‘You were very cold.’ He turned his attention to the end of the bed, tugged up the coverlet from the bottom and exposed them. Her toes were painted pink, with silver stars. Her pre-bridal gift from one of her bridesmaids.
Not the bridesmaid she’d caught with Roger. One of the other five.
‘Wiggle ’em,’ Riley said, and she hauled her thoughts back to toes. She’d much rather think of toes than Roger. Or bridesmaids.
So she wiggled then and she admired them wiggling. Last night she’d decided sharks had taken them, and she hadn’t much cared.
Today… ‘Boy, am I pleased to see you guys again,’ she confessed.
‘And I bet they’re pleased to see you. Don’t take them nighttime swimming again. Ever. Can I hear your chest?’
‘Yes, Doctor,’ she said, deciding submission was a good way to go. She pushed herself up on her pillows-or she tried. Her body was amazingly heavy.
She got about six inches up and Riley was right by her, supporting her, adjusting the pillows behind her.
He felt…
Well, that was an inappropriate thing to think. He didn’t feel anything. He was a doctor.
But, doctor or not, he was very male, and very close. And still gorgeous. He was… mid-thirties? Hard to be sure. He was a bit weathered. He hadn’t spent his life behind a desk.
He wouldn’t have, she decided, if he was a rescue doctor.
If it wasn’t for this man she’d be very, very dead.
What do you say to a man who saved your life?
‘I need to thank you,’ she said in a small voice, but he finished what he had to do before he replied.
‘Cough,’ he ordered.
She coughed.
‘And again? Good,’ he said at last, and she repeated her thank you.
‘My pleasure,’ he said, and she expected him to head for the door but instead he went back to his first position. Perched on the backward chair. Seemingly ready to chat.
‘Aren’t you needed somewhere else?’ she asked, starting to feel uneasy.
‘I’m always needed,’ he said, with a mock modesty that had her wanting to smile. ‘Dr Indispensable.’
‘So you save maidens all night and save everyone else during the day.’
‘I’m not normally a duty doctor but we’re having staffing issues. Plus I haven’t finished saving this maiden yet. You want to tell me why Roger and Mum told us you were suiciding?’
‘I wasn’t.’
‘I get the feeling you weren’t. Or at least that you changed your mind.’
‘I got caught in an undertow,’ she snapped, and then winced. She sagged back onto her pillows, feeling heavy and tired and very, very stupid. ‘I’m sorry. I accept it looks like suicide, but I just went for a swim.’
‘After dark, on an unpatrolled beach.’
‘It wasn’t completely dark. I’d been in a plane for twenty-four hours. The sea looked gorgeous, even if it was dusk. There were people everywhere, having picnics, playing cricket, splashing around in the shallows. It was lovely. I’m a strong swimmer and I swam and swam. It felt great, and I guess I let my thoughts drift. Then I realised the current had changed and I couldn’t get back.’
‘You must be a strong swimmer,’ he said, ‘to stay afloat for eight hours.’
‘Is that how long I was there?’
‘At least. We pulled you up at four-thirty. The sea wasn’t exactly calm. I figure you must badly want to live.’
‘I do,’ she said, and she met his gaze, unflinching. It suddenly seemed incredibly important that his man believe her. ‘I want to live more than anything in the world. You see, I don’t have to marry Roger.’
Fifteen minutes later Riley headed back to Intensive Care to check on Olive Matchens and he found himself smiling. It was a good story, told with courage and humour.
It seemed Pippa had been engaged for years to her childhood sweetheart. Her fiancé was the son of Daddy’s partner, financial whiz, almost part of the family. Only boring, boring, boring. But what could she do? She’d told him she’d marry him when she’d been seventeen. He’d been twenty and gorgeous and she had been smitten to the eyeballs. Then he was lovely and patient while she’d done her own thing. She’d even broken off the engagement for a while, gone out with other guys, but all the time Roger was waiting in the wings, constantly telling her he loved her. He was a nic
e guy. Daddy and Mummy thought he was wonderful. There was no one else. She’d turned thirty. She’d really like a family. Her voice had faltered a little when she said that, but then she’d gone back to feisty. Why not marry him?
Reason? Two days before the wedding she’d found him in bed with a bridesmaid.
Bomb blast didn’t begin to describe the fallout from cancelling the wedding, she’d told him. She’d figured the best thing to do was escape, leave for her honeymoon alone.
She’d arrived in Australia, she’d walked into the luxury honeymoon suite Roger had booked, in one of Australian’s most beautiful hotels, she’d looked out at the sea, and she’d thought she had her whole honeymoon ahead of her-and she didn’t have to marry Roger.
Riley grinned as he headed for Intensive Care. If there was one thing Riley loved it was a happy ending.
He thought of what would have happened if they hadn’t found her. She was alive because of his service. She was a woman who’d been given a second chance because of the skills his team offered.
And she’d use it, he thought, feeling exultant. Right now she was exhausted. She lay in bed, her face wan from strain and shock, her auburn curls matted from the seawater, her body battered and sore, and still he saw pure spirit.
It felt fantastic. Helping people survive, the adrenalin rush of search and rescue, this was his happy ending. Solitude and work and the satisfaction of making a difference.
Solitude…
The morning’s satisfaction faded a little as the nuances of the word hit home. The fact that his solitude was about to take a hit.
His daughter would be here on Friday. Lucy.
What to do with a daughter he hardly knew? Whose existence had been kept from him because he was deemed inconsequential-not important in the moneyed world Lucy must have been raised in.
There was money in the background of the woman he’d just treated, he thought. He could hear it in Pippa’s voice. English class and old money. The combination brought back enough memories to make him shudder.
But the way the woman he’d just left spoke shouldn’t make him judge her. And why was he thinking of Pippa? He now needed to focus on Lucy.
His daughter.
She was probably just coming for a fleeting visit, he decided. Her email had been curt to say the least. Flight details-arrival at Sydney airport Friday morning. An almost flippant line at the end-‘If it’s a bother don’t worry, I’ll manage.’
If it’s a bother… To have a daughter.
Family.
He didn’t do family. He never had.
He didn’t know how.
But he could give her a place to stay. That had to be a start. He lived in a huge old house right by the hospital. Once upon a time the house had been nurses’ quarters, but nurses no longer lived on site. Big and rambling and right by the sea, it was comfortable and close and why would he want to live anywhere else?
Last year the hospital had offered to sell it to him. For a while he’d thought about it-but owning a house… That meant putting down roots and the idea made him nervous. He was fine as he was.
He could see the sea when he woke up. He had a job he loved, surf at his back door, a hospital housekeeper making sure the rest of the house didn’t fall apart… He had the perfect life.
His daughter wasn’t part of it. She was an eighteen-year-old he’d never met-a kid on an adventure to Australia, meeting a father she didn’t know. Had she always known who he was? Why had she searched for him? Had she been defying Mummy?
And at the thought of her mother he felt anger almost overwhelm him. To not tell him that they’d had a child…
Anger was not useful. Put it aside, he told himself. He’d meet Lucy and see if she wanted him to be a part of her life, no matter how tiny.
She’d probably only stay a day or two. That thought made him feel more empty than before he’d known of her existence. It was like a tiny piece of family was being offered, but he already knew it’d be snatched away again.
Story of his life.
He shook his head, managed a mocking smile and shook off his dumb self-pity. Olive Matchens was waiting. Work was waiting.
He’d saved Phillippa Penelope Fotheringham. Pippa.
He did have the perfect, solitary life.
Once Riley left, an efficient little nurse called Jancey swept into Pippa’s cubicle to tidy up the edges. Someone was collecting her toiletries from the hotel, she told Pippa, and she bounced off to set up a call to Pippa’s mother. ‘Dr Chase’s instructions. He says if you don’t talk to her she’ll be on a plane before you know it.’
It was sensible advice. Jancey put the call through and Pippa managed to talk to her. Trying not to cough.
‘I’m fine, Mum. I have a bit of water on my chest-that’s why I sound breathless-but, honestly, there’s nothing wrong with me apart from feeling stupid. The hospital’s excellent. I’m only here for observation. I imagine I’ll be out of here tomorrow.’
And then the hardest bit.
‘No, I was not trying to kill myself. You need to believe that because it’s true. I was just stupid. I was distracted and I was tired. I went swimming at dusk because the water looked lovely. I was caught in the undertow and swept out. That’s all. I would never…’
Then…
‘No, I don’t wish to talk to Roger. I understand he’s sorry, but there’s nothing I can do about that. Tell him it’s over, final, there’s no way we’re getting married. If Roger comes I won’t see him. I’m sorry, Mum, but I need to go to sleep now. I’ll ring you back tomorrow. You. Not Roger.’
Done. Jancey took back the phone and smiled down at her, sensing she’d just done something momentous. Pippa smiled back at the cheery little nurse and suddenly Jancey offered her a high-five. ‘You go, girl,’ she said, and grinned.
She managed a wobbly smile, high-fived in return and slipped back onto her pillows feeling… fantastic.
She slept again, and the nightmare of last night was replaced by Jancey’s high-five-and by the smile of Dr Riley Chase.
Two lovely people in her bright new world.
Olive seemed stable. Riley was well overdue for a sleep but problems were everywhere.
School holidays. Accidents. Flu. It seemed half the hospital staff was on leave or ill. And now they had a kid in labour. Amy. Sixteen years old. Alone.
She should not be here.
How could they send her away?’
‘We need someone to stay with Amy,’ Riley decreed. ‘She’s terrified.’
‘I know.’ Coral, the hospital’s nurse-administrator, was sounding harassed. ‘But we can’t special her. I have no midwives on duty. Rachel’s on leave and I’ve just sent Maryanne home with a temp of thirty-nine. I know she shouldn’t be alone but it was her choice to come here. She knows she should be in Sydney. Meanwhile, I’m doing the best I can. I’ve put her in with your patient, Pippa.’
Coral sounded as weary as Riley felt. ‘That’s why I could free up a nurse for Olive,’ she said. ‘I’m juggling too many balls here, Riley, so cut me some slack. Putting Amy in the labour ward now will scare her and she’ll be alone most of the time. Putting her in with mums who already have their babies isn’t going to work either. The obs cubicle is close to the nurses’ station, and I’m hoping your lady will be nice to her. I’ve put them both on fifteen-minute obs and that’s the best I can do. Meanwhile, we have Troy Haddon in Emergency-he’s been playing with those Styrofoam balls you put in beanbags. He and his mate were squirting them out their noses to see who could make them go furthest, and one’s gone up instead of out. Can you deal with it?’
‘Sure,’ Riley said, resigned. So much for sleep.
Pippa woke and someone was sobbing in the next bed. Really sobbing. Fear, loneliness and hopelessness were wrapped in the one heart-rending sound.
She turned, cautiously, to see. Right now caution seemed the way to go. The world still seemed vaguely dangerous.
When she’d gone to sleep the bed
next to her had been empty. Now she had a neighbour.
The girl was young. Very young. Sixteen, maybe? She was so dark her eyes practically disappeared in her face. Her face was swollen; desperate. Terrified.
Last night’s drama disappeared. Pippa was out of bed in an instant.
‘Hey.’ She touched the girl on the hand, and then on the face as she didn’t react. ‘What’s wrong? Can I call the nurse for you?’
The girl turned to her with a look of such despair that Pippa’s heart twisted.
‘It hurts,’ the girl whispered. ‘Oh, it hurts. I want to go home.’ She sobbed and rolled onto her back.
She was very pregnant.
Very pregnant.
As Pippa watched she saw the girl’s belly tighten in a contraction. Instinctively she took the girl’s hand and held, hard. The girl moaned, a long, low moan that contained despair as well as pain, and she clutched Pippa’s hand like it was a lifeline.
Pippa hit the bell. This kid needed help. A midwife. A support team. She looked more closely at the girl’s tear-drenched face and thought she was sixteen, seventeen at most.
She needed her mum.
The nurses’ station seemed deserted. Pippa, however, knew the drill.
Hospital bells were designed to only ring once, and light a signal at the nurses’ station, so pushing it again would achieve nothing. Unless…
She checked behind the bed, found the master switch, flicked it off and on again-and pushed the bell again.
Another satisfactory peal.
And another.
Three minutes later someone finally appeared. Dr Riley Chase. Looking harassed.
‘She needs help,’ Pippa said before Riley could get a word in, and Riley looked at the kid in the bed and looked at Pippa. Assessing them both before answering.
‘You should be in bed.’
‘She needs a midwife,’ Pippa snapped. ‘A support person. She shouldn’t be alone.’
‘I know.’ He raked long fingers though his already rumpled hair, took a deep breath and focused. He glanced down the corridor as if he was hoping someone else would appear.
The Doctor & the Runaway Heiress Page 2
