The Army Doctor's New Year's Baby

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The Army Doctor's New Year's Baby Page 9

by Helen Scott Taylor


  A punishing mix of snow, hailstones, and freezing rain whipped around her as if trying to drive her back. She paused to wipe her goggles and pull the scarf higher over her nose and mouth before she pushed on.

  When she heard Daniel's helicopter had come down, she bottled up her emotions and slapped on a lid. She couldn't let herself feel or she would fall to pieces. That was not an option. Daniel needed her. He was out here waiting for her and she wouldn't let him down. The fear he might be dead nipped at the edges of her mind, but she refused to believe she would lose him.

  She lost her footing on loose rocks, going down on her knees. Flanking her silently, like self-assigned bodyguards, Lyall and Hew each put a hand beneath her arms and pulled her to her feet. Once she made it clear she was coming, neither of them had argued. They'd simply stayed with her, watching out for her.

  After brushing herself off, she pressed on, breath short in the thin air, muscles burning with effort, maintaining a punishing pace. Most of the team had fallen behind. Even with their high-visibility jackets and flashlights, she couldn't see them anymore. Only Lyall and Hew kept up.

  Lyall tapped her arm and gestured for her to stop while he pulled the GPS tracker out of its case. The three of them crowded around it, squinting at the illuminated display. Lyall raised a hand and they headed the way he indicated. They were nearly there.

  Through the low cloud and torrential rain, a light waved in the distance. "Look," she shouted to be heard over the howling wind.

  There had been four men in the helicopter, so the mountain rescue team had brought four stretchers. They'd even borrowed the all-terrain Sno-Cat with caterpillar tracks from Glenshee to carry the casualties back, if necessary. The vehicle had to drive a longer way around than they had walked. Lyall had wanted her to ride in it, but she was determined to be the first to reach Daniel.

  With renewed determination, Megan jogged forward against the wind, her heart pounding with a potent mix of hope and fear. Someone was waving that light. It might be Daniel!

  As they approached, a man's form resolved out of the murk. One glance at his silhouette told her it wasn't Daniel. The shock of disappointment nearly took the feet from under her.

  Behind the figure lay the uneven, dark bulk of what must be the helicopter wreckage.

  "Hello," Lyall yelled over the wind.

  "Thank God. It's good to see you." The man stepped back into the relative shelter of the battered metal carcass.

  Megan's glance swept over him, an immediate professional assessment of his condition second nature. His arm was in a sling and he had a laceration on his forehead, but he was walking wounded, lucid and alert. "Where's Major Fabian?" she shouted, her heart thumping so hard she could hardly draw breath to speak.

  "In here." The man turned and stepped farther inside the wreckage, leading the way. "My copilot is still in the front and we lost a man as we came down."

  Megan heard his words but they slid over the surface of her mind, barely registering, her gaze glued on the prone figure a short distance away. She stumbled and slithered over bits of crumpled helicopter, ripping off her goggles, desperate to see Daniel. She fell to her knees at his side, a sixth sense confirming that this was the man she loved before she saw his face.

  "Daniel!"

  She leaned down and his arms wrapped around her awkwardly as they were both bundled in thick clothes. She buried her face against his chilled cheek, a hint of his familiar fragrance surviving the cold, wet conditions.

  For long moments she clung to him, unable to do anything except fight the tears of relief that threatened to burst free.

  "I love you." She pressed her lips to his ear, whispering through her tight throat.

  "Sweetheart, I'm so relieved to see you. I knew you'd come."

  She swallowed hard. Got herself under control. "Are you hurt?"

  "My head and shin."

  "Your head?" With frantic fingers, she pulled her medical pack off her back and unclipped it. She dug around for wipes and cleaned the blood and dirt from his skin, her gaze scouring his beloved face for injuries. The laceration on his forehead was nothing serious. She ripped off her gloves, and gently felt through his hair.

  A nasty lump had come up above his ear, but it didn't appear serious. Her breath leaked out in a gust of relief. She pressed her lips close to his ear. "Minor contusion above your right ear and laceration to your forehead that will require stitching. Nothing to worry about."

  "Good." His eyelids fell, and fear spurted through her.

  "Daniel, stay with me." She cupped her hand around his cheek.

  "My head hurts."

  "Hold tight. I'll give you a shot in a moment." She sat back on her heels to examine his body. There were no obvious injuries. The only problem appeared to be a metal girder bent at an angle, trapping his lower leg.

  Her gaze rose to find Lyall standing nearby with Hew. "We need to free Daniel," she said.

  Lyall nodded. He and Hew tried to lift the metal bar, putting their backs into it. The thing didn't shift. "We'll get the others to help," he shouted.

  Megan gripped Daniel's hand, not wanting to leave him, but she was the doctor on the team and there were other casualties.

  "The copilot's in the cockpit." The pilot waved his arm to indicate where.

  She leaned down, put her mouth to Daniel's ear. "I've got to treat the others."

  "I'll be okay. You go," Daniel said. As she drew back, he grinned. Not quite his usual megawatts smile, but so familiar it clenched her heart.

  Tears flooded her eyes and she wiped them away. She had to hang on to her composure until this was over. Climbing between the twisted pieces of metal and scattered equipment, she followed the pilot to find a man still strapped in the copilot's chair. His head lolled to the side, but there was no obvious sign of injury.

  She took his vitals. "Has he regained consciousness at all?"

  "No." She checked him over and found a bump on his head, but apart from that he had escaped with little obvious physical damage.

  "We'll get him loaded on a stretcher and into the hospital. They can do further tests to find out why he hasn't regained consciousness. You mentioned a fourth man?"

  "We must have lost him sometime during the crash."

  Miraculously the helicopter windshield had survived, cracked but intact, providing a measure of protection from the weather. She stared out at the hailstones running down the glass in the deluge. If the fourth guy was outside in this weather, probably injured, he would die if they didn't find him soon.

  "Some men will come with a stretcher and load your copilot. Stay with him for the moment."

  She headed back through the obstacle course, noticing the deepening gloom as dusk fell. Night came early in this sort of weather.

  "We need to get moving before dark falls," Lyall said as she neared him.

  "Have the rest of the team arrived? I want to lift the metal bar off Daniel's leg."

  Megan's gaze went to Daniel, to the blue eyes she loved so much. Even here in this terrible situation, he still managed to buoy her spirits. Despite the circumstances, her heart leaped and bounded. He might be hurt but he would be all right.

  She crouched at his side, taking the hand he held out. The rest of the team arrived and a group of men heaved the metal girder off his shin, the wrecked helicopter creaking and groaning as it shifted.

  She checked his tibia and judged it might be fractured. They wrapped him in thermal blankets and strapped him onto a stretcher. The copilot was loaded onto a stretcher and carried out.

  Lyall sent a team to search the trail the helicopter had scraped over the ground, searching for the fourth man.

  The Sno-Cat arrived and they loaded the two stretchers on the front. The pilot sat inside the cab.

  "You head back to the helicopter pickup point," Lyall said. "I'll stay here for thirty minutes and continue searching. Then we'll walk out before it gets too dark. The helicopter can come back for us. If we find the fourth man, we'll s
tretcher him out by hand."

  Megan nodded. She handed across her medical pack. Lyall wasn't a doctor, but he had thorough first aid knowledge. All the mountain rescue team did.

  She stepped up onto the front of the Sno-Cat beside Daniel's stretcher, and hung on as the vehicle bumped and slithered over the terrain. It wasn't designed as an ambulance, but it was all they had. Leaning over Daniel where he lay bundled under warm blankets, protected from the weather, she pressed her lips to his cold mouth, and stroked his wet hair.

  Love you, love you, love you. The words repeated inside her head like a mantra in time with the beat of her heart. She was so relieved to have him back.

  ***

  Daniel drifted in and out of sleep, vaguely aware of the jostling, bumpy ride on the Sno-Cat. Megan leaned over him, her fingers clenched around his, her warm breath against his cheek, her soft voice in his ear, whispering words of love and encouragement.

  In the past, he'd never have relaxed and been comfortable putting his safety in the hands of a woman he was dating. He didn't have much choice right now, but he trusted Megan. He didn't mind her seeing him vulnerable like this.

  He slept for a while and woke as they lifted him into the helicopter. Voices spoke over him, packs were dropped on the floor close by, and the familiar smell of aviation fuel tinged the air. Then the door slammed and the floor vibrated beneath him as the helicopter took off.

  For a few minutes he couldn't settle, his head pounding again, his shin aching, the pain streaking up his leg even though he'd had a pain relief shot. Then Megan clasped his hand. At her touch, the tension leaked from his body and the pain eased.

  They arrived at the hospital to blissful warmth and dry clothes. Megan stayed with him while he was x-rayed, and had his leg strapped up and the wound dressed.

  As he was wheeled back along the corridor to his room, the message came through that Lyall had found Monty and he was okay. They were on their way to the hospital. Finally Daniel could relax.

  Megan plumped his pillows and gently examined the contusion on the side of his head. "I'm going to leave this uncovered for the moment. The skin is hardly broken."

  Daniel didn't care as long as she stayed with him. She sat on a chair beside his bed, still in the thermal undershirt and waterproof trousers she'd worn for the rescue. Her hair was tied back, wisps escaping to frame her face in soft red waves. Her mascara had run, leaving black streaks underneath her eyes, and dirt smudged her cheeks. But her brown eyes glowed with love and she had a permanent smile on her lips.

  She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. He never wanted to be parted from her again.

  During the lonely nights in his tent, he'd run through numerous ways of proposing to her, trying to think of the most romantic. Lying injured in a hospital bed while she cared for him was nowhere on that list.

  She smoothed his pillow and kissed him. "Do you want anything to eat?"

  "No. I want to marry you."

  Her eyes widened, and she gasped. "Yes, oh yes. I want to marry you, Dan." She pressed her lips to his, then kicked off her boots and stretched out beside him, snuggling into his arms.

  "What about the no-visitors-on-the-bed rule?" he said.

  "Forget it. I'm your doctor. I prescribe hugs and kisses, Major Fabian."

  He caught a strand of silky red hair between his fingers, and savored its texture before stroking it back behind her ear. A few months ago, he couldn't imagine being in love; now he was going to get married. How his life had changed. "So, how soon do you want to set the date?"

  "Quickly might be a good idea."

  "Why quickly?"

  "I'm pregnant."

  For a moment, Daniel's mind blanked with disbelief before he found his tongue. "How?"

  "You must have bumped your head harder than I thought if you need to ask that."

  He chuckled and pulled her closer. Images of Megan with his baby in her arms filled his mind, images of the three of them living together as a family. This was what he wanted, what he'd been missing. No wonder Sean was so happy. He'd already discovered this secret.

  "I joined the army because I was searching for something more. Yet it was you I needed. You've given meaning to my life, sweetheart."

  "So, you're pleased about the baby?" The slight hint of doubt in her voice made him kiss her soundly to reassure her.

  "I couldn't be happier. Fate was smiling on me the day I met you."

  "I think Duncan might have had something to do with it."

  "I'll have to thank him then."

  "What about a summer wedding?" Megan suggested.

  "Darling, I can't wait."

  Chapter Twelve

  Megan gazed out her bedroom window at the people gathered on the lawn by the loch, ready for her wedding. The sun shone out of a cerulean sky, golden sunlight playing across the rippling water. An aisle ran between neat rows of chairs trimmed with Mackenzie tartan sashes to a heather-covered arch where the vicar stood.

  Despite the beautiful view along the valley framed by majestic mountain peaks, it was the small group of people chatting with the vicar who captured her gaze. Daniel's father and mother had surprised him by coming together, and she could tell he was relieved.

  Daniel stood with them, tall and stylish in morning dress, his blond hair gleaming in the sunshine. None of the other men could hold a candle to him. Everyone raved about his brother Sean's looks, but Daniel was far more handsome.

  "Will you stop staring at your husband-to-be and come here so we can fit your veil? You've got the rest of your life to ogle him," Megan's mother said.

  "What a wonderful thought." Megan dreamily dragged her gaze away from the window.

  With her mother stood Olivia and Alice Knight and Kelly Fabian, all dressed as matrons of honor in long green satin dresses trimmed with Mackenzie plaid. Daniel's little nieces, Zoe and Annabelle, both dressed in matching flower-girl dresses with plaid bows in their golden hair, sat side by side on the end of the bed, sorting through Megan's jewelry box and trying everything on.

  It had taken a wedding to tempt Megan's mother back from Barbados, but it was wonderful to have her home. Slim, elegant, and tanned, her red hair twisted up on her head in a simple chignon with a turquoise fascinator on the side of her head to match her stunning dress, she stood beside Megan in front of the mirror. She attached the veil, carefully rearranging the long ringlets of Megan's hair over her shoulders.

  Alice stood on her other side, grinning, while Olivia and Kelly looked on from behind them, both a head taller than Alice, Megan, and her mother.

  The translucent veil sprinkled with pearls draped over Megan's bare shoulders, the effect pleasing. The scalloped sweetheart neckline of her strapless wedding dress showed off the diamond and pearl necklace Daniel had given her.

  She smiled, satisfied with how she looked. In the past, she'd lacked confidence in her appearance. Since she met Daniel, she saw herself through his eyes, and her confidence had blossomed. If he thought she was beautiful, she wasn't going to argue.

  Embroidery, and pearls to match the veil, decorated the bodice of her gown. The skirt flared out from an empire waistline over full gauze petticoats, the style hiding her burgeoning waistline. The weeks had flown past. She was already nearly six months pregnant, and she couldn't be happier.

  Daniel had bought a house at the far end of Loch Kinder on the outskirts of the village. After three months of remodeling, the place was ready for them to move into after the wedding. The only room left to decorate was the nursery. They wanted to do that together now that the builders had finished.

  Megan's mother put her arm around her shoulders. "You look stunning, darling. I'm so happy for you. Now we just have to find three nice girls for your brothers." She cast a longing gaze at the other women. "It's a pity you three are already married. You would be perfect for my boys."

  A knock sounded on the door. Olivia paced across the room and cracked it open. "This is a testosterone-free zone," she said in a teas
ing voice, but she stepped back and opened the door.

  Lyall came in, handsome in his dark jacket and red Stewart plaid kilt with a metal- and fur-trimmed sporran hanging over the front.

  "Lyall." Megan grinned and rushed to him, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek. After the rescue, he'd had a complete change of heart about Daniel. She didn't know what had altered Lyall's opinion, but she welcomed the friendship that was growing between her fiancé and her best friend.

  "I wanted to give you this." Lyall dug a traditional claddagh brooch out of his pocket and laid it on his palm. "They say a bride should have something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue. Well, this is something old. It belonged to my grandmother."

  "Oh, Lyall. It's beautiful." The round motif with two hands holding a heart topped by a crown was decorated with an intricately engraved Celtic design. It was an ancient symbol of love, loyalty, and friendship—still very much part of the Scottish tradition.

  She took it and turned it in her hand, watching the sunlight glitter off the polished silver. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek again, holding on tightly and closing her eyes. He'd been there for her all her life. She loved him as much as her brothers.

  "I'll treasure it," she whispered.

  He nodded. Clearing his throat, he took it back to pin it on the Mackenzie tartan bow around her wrist. "I'll be watching to make sure that Sassenach takes good care of you, lass, or he'll answer to me."

  Megan laughed. "He'll take care of me. You needn't worry about that."

  Another knock sounded on the door and Lyall backed away. "I'll leave you in peace." He nodded to the group. "Ladies."

  As he left, her father came in, clad in army dress uniform with a Mackenzie plaid kilt. "Are you ready, lass?"

  "That I am, sir."

  "Then we better not keep the rabble waiting." He poked out an elbow for her to put her hand through. "Shall we?"

  Megan rested her hand on his forearm. With her mother and her friends following, she walked beside her father down the wide staircase, past the paintings of generations of Mackenzies who had no doubt trodden this same stairway on the way to their weddings.

 

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