by Tina Beckett
‘She’s a fighter. She came into this world crying as hard as her tiny lungs would let her.’ She sucked down a quick breath. ‘Her mother didn’t even touch her. Hope was very sick and might not have survived the night, but she never asked to hold her or tried to keep us from taking her away. Maybe she already knew she was going to leave her behind and was afraid to let herself get attached.’
‘You were there when she was born.’
‘Yes. When the mum came in—already in labour—the doctor examined her. He didn’t like the way the baby’s heartbeat sounded so they did an ultrasound. They immediately saw there was a problem, so they called Sienna down.’ Annabelle gripped her fork tighter. ‘She knew as soon as she looked at the monitor that it was serious. So when she delivered there was a roomful of staff, just in case Hope coded on the table. They did a Caesarean section, trying to save the baby any undue stress during delivery.’
‘It worked. She’s still alive.’
‘Yes. But she’s all alone. Her mum has never even called to check on her. Not once.’
‘And say what?’ Max’s jaw tightened. ‘Maybe she didn’t want to have to deal with the fallout of what might happen if it all went wrong.’
‘It was her child. How could she not want to be there for her?’
‘She could have felt the baby was better off without her.’
Something about the tight way he said those words made her wonder if Max was still talking about Baby Hope and her mum, or something a little closer to home.
Had he felt she was better off without him?
Rubbish. It hadn’t been his idea to leave. It had been hers. If he’d truly loved her, he would have fought for her.
But Max had always had a hard time forming attachments, thanks to parents who did their utmost to avoid any show of affection. And those long trips they’d taken without him—leaving Max to wonder if they were ever coming back. If they missed him at all. Annabelle had cried when he’d told her in halting words the way things had been in his home. Her own family’s open affection and need to be with each other had seemed to fascinate him.
Maybe he really could understand how a mum could abandon her own child. In many ways, Max had felt abandoned. Maybe even by her, when she’d told him to leave.
She should have just given up when he’d given her that last ultimatum. But she hadn’t—she’d wanted Max to have what his parents had denied him. And when he’d found her journal... God, he’d been so furious that night. To forestall any more arguments, she’d told him to get out. The memories created a sour taste in her mouth.
‘I guess I’ll never know what her true motivation was for leaving. If I had, maybe I could have changed her mind, or at least talked her into coming back to check on Hope.’
‘She probably wouldn’t have. Come back, that is. Maybe she felt that once she walked out, there was no going back.’
This time when his eyes came up to meet hers there was no denying that he was talking about something other than their patient.
Unable to come up with anything that wouldn’t inflame the situation further, she settled for a shrug. ‘Maybe not. I guess people just have to learn to live with the consequences of their choices.’
As Annabelle had had to do.
And with that statement, she made the choice to stab her fork into the slab of chocolate cake on her plate and did her best to steer the conversation back to neutral territory. Where there was no chance of loaded statements or examining past regrets too closely.
But even as they spoke of the hospital and its patients and advances in treatment, she was very aware that nothing could ever be completely neutral as far as Max went.
So she would try to do as she’d stated and make the very best choices she could while he was here. And then learn to live with the consequences.
CHAPTER THREE
‘ELLA, LET’S NOT have this discussion right now.’
‘What discussion is that?’ Her best friend batted her eyes, while Annabelle’s rolled around in their sockets. ‘The prodigal returns to the scene of his crime?’
‘That doesn’t even make any sense.’
‘It doesn’t have to. So spill. I haven’t seen you since I heard the big news. Not from you, I might add. What’s up with that?’
She tried to delay the inevitable. ‘What news are you talking about?’
Ella made a scoffing sound as she leaned against the exam table. ‘That a certain ex has crashed back onto the scene.’
Crashed was a very good word for what he’d done. ‘There’s nothing to tell. He showed up yesterday at the hospital.’
‘Out of the blue? With no advance notice?’ Her friend lifted the bottle of water she held, taking a quick drink. She then grimaced.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Fine. Just a little tummy trouble. I hope I’m not coming down with whatever everyone else has. Wouldn’t that be a wonderful Christmas present?’ She twisted her lips and then shrugged. ‘Anyway, you had no idea he was coming?’
‘Of course not. I would have told you, if I’d known.’ And probably caught the next available flight out of town. Annabelle sighed, already tired of this line of questioning. When had life become so complicated? ‘I’m sure someone knew he was coming. I just never thought to ask because I never dreamed...’
‘That Max Ainsley would show up on your doorstep and beg for your forgiveness?’
‘Ella!’ Annabelle hurried over to the door to the exam room and shut it before anyone overheard their conversation. She turned back to face her friend. ‘First of all, he did not show up on my doorstep. He just happened to come to work at the hospital. I’m sure he had no idea I was working here any more than I knew that he was the one taking Sienna’s place. And second, there’s no need for him to apologise.’
‘Like hell there’s not. He practically abandoned you without a word.’
Oh, Lord, she’d had very little sleep last night and now this. As soon as she’d finished lunch with Max yesterday, she had got out of that canteen as fast as she possibly could. Even so, he’d come down to the special care baby unit a couple of hours later to get even more information on Baby Hope. Clinical information this time about blood types and the matching tests they’d done in the hope that a heart would become available.
She’d been forced to stand there as he shuffled through papers and tried to absorb any tiny piece of information that could help with the newborn’s treatment. With his head bent over the computer screen, each little shift in his expression had triggered memories of happier times. Which was why she’d lain in bed and tossed and turned for hours last night. Because she couldn’t help but dissect the whole day time and time again.
Sheer exhaustion had finally pulled her under just as the sun had begun to rise. And then she’d had to get up and come into work, knowing she was going to run into him again today. And tomorrow. And three months from now.
How was she going to survive until his contract ended?
‘He didn’t abandon me. It simply didn’t work out between us. We both had a part in ending it, even though I asked him to leave.’
It was true. She couldn’t see it back then, and Ella had had to listen to her long-distance calls as she’d cycled through the stages of grief, giving sympathy where it was needed and a proverbial kick in the backside when she was still wearing her heart on her sleeve six months after the separation.
‘Enough!’ she’d finally declared. ‘You have to decide whether you want to start your life over again or if you’re going to spend it crying over a man who isn’t coming back.’
Those words had done what nothing else had been able to. They’d convinced her that she needed to climb out of the pity pit she’d dug for herself and start giving back to society. What better way to forget about your own heartache than to ease the suffer
ing of someone else?
Ella had talked her into moving from London to the Cotswolds soon afterwards. It had been one of the best decisions of her life.
Well. Until now. But that hadn’t been Ella’s fault. It had been no one’s. Not even Max’s.
Annabelle’s pager suddenly beeped at the same time as Ella’s, and they both jumped at the noise. Peering down to look at what had caused the alert, Annabelle read.
A multi-vehicle accident on the M5 has occurred. A hired bus for a nursery school outing was involved. Several of those patients are en route—eta five minutes. All available personnel please report to A&E.
‘Oh, God,’ she said, reaching for her friend’s hand.
‘I know. Let’s head over.’ Her friend stopped and gripped the edge of the table for a second.
‘Ella?’
‘I’m okay.’ She ran a hand through her hair, her face pale. ‘Let’s go.’
‘Maybe you should go home instead.’ Almost a third of the hospital staff was out due to a virus that had spread through their ranks. Hopefully Ella wasn’t the latest person to fall victim to the bug.
Her friend blew out a breath. ‘I hope to God I’m not...’ She stopped again. ‘I’ll be all right. If I start feeling worse, I’ll go home, okay?’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. Now, let’s get our butts in gear and go and help whoever is coming.’
* * *
Max spotted her the second she came out of the lift. She and a familiar redhead hurried past a small Christmas tree towards the assembled staff who were waiting for the first of the ambulances to arrive. The other woman sent him a chilling glare. Perfect. It was Ella. She’d always had it in for him.
It didn’t matter.
His ex moved over to him. ‘Any word yet?’
‘I don’t know any more than you do.’
Just then, he caught the sound of a siren in the distance. And then another. Once they hit, they would have to do triage—the kind he’d done during his stints with Doctors Without Borders. This hospital might be more modern than the ones he’d worked in over the last six months, but that didn’t mean that the process of sorting patients from most critical to least would be any easier. Especially not when it came to those involving high-speed crashes. He had to be ready for anything, including cardiac involvement from chest trauma.
He’d never got used to the cries of suffering while he was in Africa. And it would be no easier here than it had been there.
A nursery school outing! Of all things.
Right now, they didn’t even know exactly how many patients were coming in, much less the seriousness of the injuries.
Then the first emergency vehicle spun into the space in front of the hospital, another stopping right behind it. And, yes, the screams of a child as those back doors were opened cut through him like a knife.
He moved in to look as the stretcher rolled backwards and onto the ground. A child who couldn’t be more than three came into view, blood covering the sheet of the stretcher. And her right arm... Her shirt sleeve had been cut and parted to reveal the raw flesh of an open fracture, the pearly edge of a bone peeking through.
One of the orthopaedists moved in. ‘Take her to exam room one. Take vitals, check her for other injuries. I’ll be there in a minute.’ He knew that doctors hated assigning priorities to treatment, but it was the only way to save as many lives as possible. If they treated these patients according to the order they came in, they might condemn a more seriously injured patient to death. It couldn’t work that way. Max knew that from experience.
A nurse directed the paramedic back towards the interior of the hospital where other staff were preparing to receive whoever came through those doors.
The assembled doctors met each stretcher as it arrived, specialists matched up with the appropriate accident victims. When Annabelle tried to follow one of the other doctors, Max stopped her. If a critical case came his way, he would need a nurse to assist. And who better than a nurse who dealt with crises on a daily basis? He’d seen her in action when Baby Hope’s pulse ox levels had plummeted. She’d been calm and confident, exactly what he needed.
It wasn’t an unreasonable request.
And it had nothing to do with their past, or the fact that working with someone he knew would be easier than a complete stranger. He already knew that he and Annabelle made a great team on a professional level. They’d worked together many times before, since they’d been employed by the same hospital in London during their marriage.
The next ambulance pulled into the bay. The driver leaped out just as the doors at the back of the vehicle swung open.
‘How many more are coming?’ Max called. So far they’d had thirteen patients ranging in age from two to four years in addition to three nursery school workers who’d also sustained injuries. The rescue in the frigid November temperatures had taken its toll as well. Despite being wrapped in blankets, many of the patients were shivering from shock and exposure.
‘This is the last one. She was trapped between seats. She sustained blunt force trauma to the chest. She threw PVCs the whole way over.’
When the wheels of the stretcher hit the ground and made the turn towards them, Max caught sight of a pale face and blue-tinged lips, despite the oxygen mask over her face. A little girl. Probably two years old. Disposable electrode pads had been adhered to a chest that heaved as she gasped for breath.
‘How bad?’
The paramedic shook his head. ‘Difficulty breathing, pulse ox low as is her BP. And her EKG readings are all over the chart. PVCs, a couple of quick ventricular arrhythmias, but nothing sustained.’
‘Possible cardiac contusion. Let’s get her inside.’
As soon as they ran through the doors, Max glanced at her. ‘We’re going straight to ICU. You’ll have to tell me where to go.’
With Annabelle calling out instructions they arrived on the third-floor unit within minutes. The paramedic had stayed with them the whole time, assisting with moving the stretcher.
They burst through the entrance to the unit, and Max grabbed every staff member who wasn’t already treating someone and motioned them to the nearest empty room. Together they worked to get the girl hooked up to a heart monitor and take her vitals. The child was conscious, her wide eyes were open, and, although there were tears trickling from the corners of her eyes, her struggle to breathe took precedence over crying.
Somehow that just made it worse.
‘We need to intubate, and then I want to get some X-rays and a CAT scan.’
He was hearing some crepitus as she breathed, the popping and crackling sounds as her chest expanded indicative of a possible sternal fracture. It could also explain some of her cardiac symptoms. The faster he figured it out, the better the prognosis.
He leaned down to the child, wishing he at least knew her name. ‘We’re going to take good care of you.’
Within minutes they’d slid a trach tube into place to regulate her breathing. Her cardiac function was still showing some instability, but it hadn’t worsened. At least not yet.
Max was a master of remaining objective during very difficult surgeries. But there was something about children who were victims of accidents that threatened to shred his composure. These weren’t neat put-the-child-to-sleep-in-a-controlled-setting cases. These were painful, awful situations that wrung him out emotionally.
Needing to come home from the Sudan to maintain his certification couldn’t have come at a better time. He’d desperately needed a rest; the abject poverty and suffering he’d seen had taken their toll on him.
And yet here he was, his second day on the job, feeling as if he’d been thrown right back onto the front lines.
Mentally and emotionally.
Annabelle helped him get the girl ready to move to the ra
diology section, glancing at him as she did. She touched the youngster every chance she got, probably as a way to reassure her. He’d noticed her doing the same thing with Baby Hope.
Those tiny gestures of compassion struck at something deep inside him.
Strands of hair stuck to a face moist with perspiration, and yet Annabelle was totally oblivious to everything except her patient.
Just then, as if she sensed him looking at her, her head came up. Their gazes tangled for several long seconds. Then they were right back at it. Annabelle was evidently willing to set any animosity aside for the benefit of their young patient.
The CT scan confirmed his suspicion. The force of the little girl striking the seat in front of her had fractured her sternum, putting pressure on her heart and lungs. A half-hour turned into an hour, which turned into five as they continued to work the case.
It had to be way past time for Annabelle’s shift to end, but she didn’t flinch as they struggled to stabilise the girl.
Sarah. He’d finally learned her name. And unlike Baby Hope’s mum, or even his own parents—who’d been more angry than concerned when he’d been injured in a bike crash—Sarah’s mum and dad were frantic, desperate for any shred of news.
Annabelle came in from her fifth trip to see them. ‘I told them they could come see her in a few minutes.’
‘Good.’ Sarah was already more comfortable. They’d given her some pain medication, and although she was still on a ventilator they’d be able to wean her off in the next day or two, depending on how much more swelling she had. ‘Why don’t you take a break? Get off your feet for a few minutes.’
‘Sarah needs me. I’ll rest when she does.’
‘Have you eaten today?’
This time she smiled, although the edges of her mouth were lined with exhaustion as she repeated the same thought. ‘I’ll eat when you do.’
If she thought he was calling her weak, she was wrong. She was anything but. Of course, he already knew that. He’d watched Annabelle go to hell and back in her effort to have a child. She was as stubborn as they came. It was one of the things he’d loved most about her, and yet it was ultimately that very thing that had driven them apart.
