‘I know,’ Amy said. ‘But me and this kid… after this, I can do anything. She’s going to have all the stuff I didn’t. She’ll go to school and everything.’ She peeped a smile up at Riley, her courage and strength returning in waves with the adrenalin of post-birth wonder. ‘Maybe she’ll even be a doc like you.’
‘Why not?’ Riley said. ‘If that’s what you both want, we’ll make sure there are people who’ll help you every step of the way.’ He hesitated. ‘But, Amy, Riley’s best chance of getting that is if you don’t have six more babies in the next six years.’
‘You don’t need to tell me that,’ Amy said tartly, and she kissed her baby’s head. ‘No fear. I had this one because I was stupid. Me and her… we’re not going to be stupid, ever again.’
Amy was wheeled away, up to Maternity to be in a ward with two other young mums. ‘Because that’s where you’ll learn the most,’ Riley told her. Pippa promised to visit her later, but Amy was too intent on her new little Riley to listen.
Pippa’s legs were sagging. She sat, suddenly, and felt extraordinarily relieved the chair was under her. Even her chair felt wobbly.
Riley was beside her in an instant, hitting the buzzer. ‘We need a trolley,’ he told Mary when she appeared. ‘Fast, Mary, or I’ll have to pick her up and carry her.’
‘In your dreams,’ Pippa managed, with a pathetic attempt at dignity. ‘No one carries me.’
‘I believe I already have.’
‘With the help of a helicopter.’ She was trying to sound cheeky but she wasn’t succeeding. In truth, the room was spinning.
‘Warren’s the only orderly,’ Mary said. ‘The trolley will be ten minutes. You want me to fetch a wheelchair?’
‘It’s okay,’ Pippa said. ‘I’ll be right in a minute.’
‘You’ll be back in bed in a minute.’ And to her astonishment Riley’s eyes were gleaming with laughter and with challenge. ‘Let’s do without Warren or wheelchairs,’ he said. ‘Fancy inferring I’m inferior to our helicopter.’ And before she could realise what he intended, he lifted her high into his arms.
She squeaked.
Mary giggled.
‘He does weights,’ Mary told Pippa, bemused. ‘What you said… that’s a red rag to a bull.’
‘He’s crazy.’
‘He is at that,’ Mary said, chuckling and holding the door wide to let Riley pass. ‘You try getting workers’ compensation after this, Doc Riley.’
‘Workers’ comp is for wimps.’ Riley had her secure, solid against his chest, striding briskly along the corridor, past rooms full of patients and visitors, carrying her as if she was a featherweight and not a grown woman in trouble.
Trouble was right. If a doctor did this in her training hospital… To a nurse…
Worse. She was a patient. This was totally unprofessional.
She needed to struggle but she didn’t have the energy. Or the will.
Trouble?
She was feeling like she really was in trouble. Like she wasn’t exactly sure what was going on. He was making her feel…
‘I should never have allowed you to help,’ he muttered as he strode, his laughter giving way to concern. Maybe he was feeling just how weak she was.
She wasn’t really this weak, she thought. Or maybe she was.
She thought about it, or she sort of thought about it. The feel of his arms holding her… the solid muscles of his chest… the sensation of being held… It was stopping lots of thoughts-and starting others that were entirely inappropriate.
This was why they’d invented trolleys, she thought, to stop nurses… to stop patients… to stop her being carried by someone like Riley. It was so inappropriate on so many levels. It made her feel…
‘You’re exhausted,’ he said. ‘It was totally unprofessional of me to allow you to help.’
That shook her out of the very inappropriate route her thoughts were taking. Out of her exhaustion. Almost out of her disorientation.
‘To allow Amy to have a support person?’ she demanded, forcing her voice to be firm. ‘What does that have to do with lack of professionalism?’
‘You weren’t her support person.’
‘I was. If you hadn’t allowed me to be, I would have discharged myself and come right back. Amy would have said “Yes, please,” and it would have been exactly the same except that you wouldn’t be carrying me back to bed.’
‘In your extraordinary bathrobe,’ he finished, and the laughter had returned. It felt good, she decided. To make this man laugh…
And there her thoughts went again, off on a weird and crazy tangent. She was totally disoriented by the feel of his body against hers. He turned into the next corridor, and the turning made her feel a bit dizzy and she clutched.
He swore. ‘Of all the stupid…’
‘It’s not stupid,’ she managed, steadying again. ‘It’s wonderful. Last night you saved my life. This afternoon we’ve helped Amy have her baby. You’ve done a fantastic twenty-four hours’ work, Dr Chase. Did I tell you I think you’re wonderful?’
Mary bobbed up beside them, still chuckling.
‘Don’t tell him that,’ she begged. ‘Everyone does. It gives him the biggest head. Riley, really, are you about to hurt your back?’
‘Nope,’ Riley said. ‘Didn’t you hear what our patient said? I’m wonderful. Practically Superman. You can’t hurt your back if you’re Superman.’
‘Superman or not, Coral says to tell you that you can’t be a doctor in this hospital unless you get some sleep,’ Mary retorted. ‘Coral said you’re to leave and go to bed. Now.’
‘Immediately?’
‘Put Pippa down first, but leave the tucking in to me,’ Mary ordered, as they reached Pippa’s bed. ‘Off you go, Dr Superman. Sweet dreams.’
‘I need to say thank you,’ Pippa managed.
‘So say thank you,’ Mary said, sounding severe. ‘Fast.’
Riley set Pippa down. He straightened and she felt a queer jolt of loss. To be held and then released…
She was more exhausted than she’d thought. She wasn’t making sense, even to herself.
Riley was smiling down at her, with that amazing, heart-stopping smile. A lifesaver of a smile. ‘It’s us who should thank you,’ he said. ‘You were great.’
Her pillows were wonderful. Life was wonderful.
Riley was wonderful.
‘You are Superman,’ she whispered. ‘You’ve saved my life-in more ways than one.’
‘It’s what I do,’ Riley said. ‘Superheroes R Us. Come on, Mary, let’s see if we can find some tall buildings to leap.’
‘You can leap all the tall buildings you want, as long as you do it off duty,’ Mary said tartly.
‘Goodnight, then, Pippa,’ Riley said. ‘We both know what to do.’
Sleep. It sounded good.
She slept, smiling.
She slept, thinking of Riley Chase.
A baby called Riley. A little girl…
Eighteen years ago his daughter had been born and he hadn’t known. Marguerite had chosen to have her alone, or with her formidable parents, rather than let him into her life.
He’d thought he’d loved her. He’d thought she’d loved him.
He had no idea what love was. What family was.
He’d watched Pippa with Amy, and felt the strength between them, the instant bonding of two strong women. That was what he didn’t get. Didn’t trust. Bonding.
Family.
His daughter was coming. It was doing his head in; delivering Amy’s baby, thinking back to how it could have been if he’d been deemed worth being a partner, a father. Family.
Yeah, like that was going to happen. He needed to sleep. Get his head under control.
Or surf. Better. No matter how tired he was, surf helped.
He strode out of the hospital, headed for the beach.
The thought of Pippa stayed with him. Pippa holding a baby girl.
Too much emotion. His head felt like it might i
mplode.
When all else failed, surf.
CHAPTER THREE
SHE slept all night.
She was still right by the nurses’ station. It was probably noisy, but there was no noise capable of stirring her.
When she woke, even the hospital breakfast tasted good. She must have been very close to the edge, she decided as she tucked into her leathery egg. She must have been very close indeed, if she was now appreciating hospital food.
Just the concept of food felt great. There’d be lunch in a few hours’ time, she thought with a thrill of anticipation. Maybe there’d be a snack in between. Life stretched out before her, resplendent in its possibilities. She lay back on her pillows and thought: This is day two of my honeymoon, what’s on today?
At around nine Jancey bounced in, accompanying an intern, and she was aware of a stab of disappointment. The young doctor was efficient, caring, thorough, all the things he needed to be-but he wasn’t Riley.
‘Dr Chase isn’t usually in the wards,’ Jancey told her as the intern moved off to sign her discharge papers. Pippa hadn’t asked about Riley, but somehow Jancey sensed Pippa wanted to know. ‘He’s in charge of Search and Rescue, and he does clinics for our remote communities. That’s enough to keep any doctor busy.’
‘This is the base for Search and Rescue?’
‘Yep. We have two crews, two planes and one chopper. There’s some coastal work-stuff like rescuing you-but most of our work is clinics and patient retrieval from Outback settlements. It keeps us busy. It keeps Riley very busy.’
‘So I won’t see him again.’
‘Probably not,’ Jancey said, giving her a thoughtful glance. ‘I know; it seems a shame. He’s a bit hot, our Dr Riley.’
‘That’s not what I meant.’
‘Of course it is,’ Jancey retorted, grinning. ‘I’m a happily married woman but it’s still what I think. It’s what every hot-blooded woman in this hospital thinks. He walks alone, though, our Dr Chase.’
‘Like the Phantom?’ Pippa queried, a bit nonplussed.
‘In the comics?’ Jancey smiled and nodded. ‘Yeah, though doesn’t Phantom have generations of Dianas, providing generations of little phantoms? As far as we know there’s not a Diana in sight. Coral, our nurse-administrator, reckons he was crossed in love. Whoops,’ she said as the baby-faced intern harrumphed with irritation from the corridor. ‘I know, talking about Dr Chase’s love life with patients is totally unprofessional but what’s life without a bit of spice? And who’s going to sack me with our staff shortage? Okay, I gotta go and minister to the sick, hold the hand of the learning. Will you be okay?’
‘Yes.’ How else was a woman to respond?
‘Are you staying in town for a while?’
‘The hotel’s paid for until Sunday.’
‘Then soak it up,’ Jancey said. ‘Sleep, spas, maybe a massage. But be careful. Our Dr Chase will be very annoyed if he has to rescue you again.’
‘He won’t do that,’ Pippa assured her. ‘It’s taken a lot of trouble to finally be on my own. I’m on my lonesome honeymoon and it feels fantastic. I’m not about to need anyone.’
Some wonderful person had fetched her luggage from the hotel. Pippa dressed and said goodbye to the ward staff. Jancey offered to accompany her to the taxi rank, but first Pippa needed to see Amy.
Amy was in a ward with two other young mums, all getting to know their babies. A lactation consultant was working with her, and there were rumours that Riley Junior was about to have her first bath.
‘You were fab,’ Amy told her as she hugged her goodbye. ‘You and Doc Riley. I wish I could have called her Pippa, too. Hey, maybe I can. Riley Pippa.’
‘Don’t get too carried away,’ Pippa said, grinning. ‘You’re making friends all over the place. By the time you leave here, this young lady might have twelve names.’
‘I won’t be here long. I don’t like being in hospital,’ Amy confessed.
‘You’re not planning to run away?’
‘I won’t do that. I’ve promised Doc Riley I’ll be sensible.’
‘You and me both,’ Pippa said.
It was great that she’d been able to help yesterday, she decided as she left Amy. It had made the terrors of the night before recede. It had made Roger’s betrayal fade almost to insignificance.
Birth beat death any day, she decided-and it also beat marriage. Now to have her honeymoon…
Half an hour later the porter ushered her into her hotel suite and finally Pippa was alone.
Her honeymoon hotel was truly, madly scrumptious. It had been years since Pippa had spent any time in her parents’ world and she’d almost forgotten what it was like. Or maybe hotels hadn’t been this luxurious back then.
The bed was the size of a small swimming pool. How many pillows could a girl use? There must be a dozen, and walking forward she saw a ‘pillow menu’. An invitation to add more.
Thick white carpet enveloped her toes. Two settees, gold brocade with feather cushions, looked squishy and fabulous. The television set looked more like a movie screen.
Two sets of French windows opened to a balcony that overlooked the sea. Below the balcony was a horizon pool, stretching to the beach beyond.
It was magnificent-but Pippa wasn’t exactly into horizon pools. Or pillow menus.
She gazed around her, and the familiar feeling of distaste surfaced. More than distaste. Loneliness?
That’s what these sorts of surroundings said to her.
She was an only child of wealthy parents. She’d been packed off to boarding school when she was six, but during vacations her parents had done ‘the right thing’. Sort of.
They’d taken her to exotic locations and stayed in hotels like this. Her parents had booked her a separate room, not close enough to bother them. They had employed hotel babysitters from the time they arrived to the time they left.
As she got older she pleaded to be left at home. There she least she knew the staff-and, of course, there was Roger.
Roger was the only friend who was permitted to visit when her parents weren’t around. He was the only kid who wasn’t intimidated by her parents’ wealth and ostentation. More than that, he’d been… kind. Three years older than she was, she’d thought he was her best friend.
But now…
She gazed at her surroundings-at a hotel room Roger had chosen-and once again she felt tired. Tired to the bone.
The intern had told her to take it easy. ‘You’ve had a shock. Let your body sleep it off.’
Good advice. She looked down at her half-acre of bed and thought she’d come to the right place to sleep.
And to think?
She wandered out to the balcony and stared out to sea. This was why she’d swum so late on Sunday night-from here the beach practically called to her. A lone surfer, far out, was catching waves with skill.
She’d love to do that.
On the far side of the headland she could see the cream brick building of the North Coast Health Services Hospital. A busy, bustling hospital, perpetually understaffed. Perpetually doing good.
She’d love to do that, too.
And with that, the sudden thought-could she?
What was she thinking? Nursing? Here?
She was here on her honeymoon, not to find a job. But the thought was suddenly there and it wouldn’t go away.
Nursing. Here.
Because of Riley?
No. That was stupid. Really stupid.
‘You’ve been unengaged for less than a week,’ she told herself. ‘You nearly died. You’ve had a horrid experience and it’s rattled you. Yes, you don’t like fancy hotels but get over it. And don’t think past tomorrow.’
But… to work in a hospital where she was desperately needed, to be part of a small team rather than one moveable staff member in a big, impersonal city hospital. To make a difference…
Would it be running away?
No. She’d run away to go nursing, deciding it was her career d
espite her family’s appalled objections. Somehow this no longer seemed like running away.
Maybe it’d be finding her own place. Her own home.
‘They won’t take me till my lungs clear,’ she said out loud, and surprised herself by where her thoughts were taking her.
Could she?
She needed to sleep. She needed to gain a bit of perspective. She’d been in the hospital for little more than a day: how could she possibly make a decision yet?
But she already had. Meanwhile… She eyed the ostentatious bed and managed a smile. ‘Suffer,’ she told herself. ‘Unpack one of your gorgeous honeymoon nightgowns and hit that bed.’
Sensible advice. She was a sensible woman.
She did not do things on a whim.
Or not until tomorrow.
She hung a gold-plated ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on her door and fell into bed. To her amazement she was asleep before… well, before she’d even had time to feel amazed.
She dreamed. Not nightmares, though.
Sensible or not, she dreamed of Riley.
He couldn’t get her out of his head. Pippa.
Tuesday. Three days till his daughter came.
When he wasn’t thinking about Pippa he was thinking about Lucy and the combination was enough to have him wide awake before dawn, staring sightlessly at the ceiling, trying not to think of anything and failing on both counts.
Tuesday. He and Harry had a short run this afternoon, collecting two patients and bringing them back for minor surgery tomorrow. He was due to take a remote clinic on Thursday at the settlement where Amy lived. If she was well enough they might be able to take her home. The rest of the week was quiet-except for emergencies.
He should think of Lucy’s arrival. Plan. Plan what? It was enough to drive him crazy.
And on top of that…
Pippa.
He never should have carried her.
It had seemed right. No, he never carried patients unless in dire emergencies-he wasn’t stupid-but with Pippa… To wait for a trolley when she was clearly dizzy, when she was wearing that ridiculous bathrobe, when she was clearly in trouble…
How many patients made him feel like Pippa did?
The Doctor & the Runaway Heiress Page 4
