The Boy Who Made Them Love Again Page 2

  Abby gave a little smile at her pet name for her husband, the most important man in America, and gave her hand a squeeze. ‘Has someone told your husband that you’re here?’

  Jennifer rolled her eyes in response. ‘Oh, yes.’

  Abby glanced over the notes Nancy was making of the foetal heart rate and the First Lady’s blood pressure. Everything looked good.

  ‘Don’t worry, Jennifer. We’ll take good care of you. I’m going to examine you in a few minutes to confirm that your waters have broken. Have you had any contractions at all?’

  Jennifer shook her head. ‘No, just the back pain. It’s still there now.’

  Nancy raised her eyebrow then moved quickly towards the door as it started to open. ‘Yes, can I help you?’ Her voice echoed around the room.

  ‘Just to give you these, Mrs Taylor’s medical records. Dr Storm said that you would need them.’ A black-covered arm appeared through the tiny space in the doorway, brandishing a thick brown envelope, which Nancy snatched away before banging the door shut again.

  Jennifer slumped back against her pillows. ‘Poor Luke,’ she murmured. ‘I thought he was going to blow a gasket when he realised what was going on. I didn’t know what else to do when Dr Blair started having chest pain—he seemed the most obvious person to call.’ Her voice drifted off.

  Abby felt as if she was missing something. ‘How do you know Luke?’

  ‘He’s my husband’s cardiologist.’

  ‘The President has a cardiologist?’

  ‘My husband has a doctor for everything—whether he needs it or not.’ Jennifer gave a wry smile.

  Abby gazed in wonder at the most watched woman in America. She might be the First Lady but she was still a first-time mom-to-be, who was probably just as worried as every other potential mother in the whole world. Her waters had broken early and the first thing she’d done had been to phone a doctor for the man having chest pain. She hadn’t thought of herself first at all. This was some woman.

  Abby gave a nod and slid the notes out from inside the envelope. ‘I’ll have a quick check over these and give our local obstetrician a call.’ She moved towards the door. ‘Nancy will stay with you for now and I’ll be back in five minutes.’

  She stepped outside and directly into the path of six black-suited men. They seemed to be multiplying by the minute. ‘Excuse me,’ she said, sidestepping them and heading over to the nearby desk. She bent over to pick up the phone but was stopped as a firm bronzed hand slid in front of hers, picking up the phone first.

  ‘Hey!’

  Luke shot her a dazzling smile. All white teeth and tanned skin. Just the way she liked him. Just the way she remembered him. More little sparks fired inside her, sending a feeling to the pit of her stomach like … like what? It had been so long she couldn’t remember.

  ‘Sorry, Abby, I’m first. I need to take Dr Blair to the cath lab. He’s a definite inferior MI.’ He waved the ECG under her nose. ‘Look at the ST elevation.’ Then he paused for a second, the smile draining from his face. ‘You do have cath-lab facilities, don’t you?’

  Abby nodded as a look of relief swept visibly over his face. ‘Wait a minute, though, Luke. You’ve just come from Washington DC—you won’t have a licence to practise medicine here.’ Her brow furrowed. ‘Or is there some crazy dispensation for the President’s staff I don’t know about?’

  He raised his eyebrow as the corner of his mouth turned upwards. ‘Yes and no. I can treat the President, but only the President, in any state. However, here …’ he swept his arm outwards ‘…I’ve just been lucky. I’ve been working with two of California’s universities and needed a licence to practise in the state. So don’t worry, Abby, I’m covered.’

  She gave a little nod. ‘Just dial 032 and tell them what you’ve got. One of our nurse practitioners will monitor the patient for you and I’ll get one of the residents to come and assist you with the procedure.’

  ‘Will there be any issues with your own cardiologist?’

  ‘Absolutely not. Our own cardiologist is currently thirty-eight weeks pregnant and has a full clinic this morning.’ She gave a wave of her hand. ‘I’ll speak to her, you don’t need to worry.’ She listened while he finished the call, glancing over the medical records in front of her. Everything seemed good: no underlying conditions; no obvious problems with the baby. All antenatal care meticulously charted. Dr Blair was obviously no slouch—but then, this was the President’s baby.

  She reached over to grab the receiver as he hung up, her hand brushing against his. A delicious little zing shot up her arm. One that she hadn’t felt in—how long? He must have felt it too as their eyes locked. And Abby stayed there. Frozen in that second in time. A whirlwind of electric memories all came back instantly—the long, lazy afternoons they’d spent together, the easy, comfortable relationship that they’d had together, the times when they’d both opened their mouths to speak and both said the same thing simultaneously, and the long, hot nights they’d spent locked in each other’s arms. In that instant she was twenty-four again, her long blonde hair blowing in the wind as they’d stood at the top of the hill in Washington and he’d promised that he would stay with her for ever. A promise that had soon been broken. Broken on that same hill only a few months later. A promise that had broken her heart and sent her tumbling into an abyss.

  But time had passed now. Time that appeared to have etched a few fine lines into Luke’s forehead, making him seem older and maybe a little more careworn.

  ‘Hello? Hello? Is someone there?’

  Abby jolted from the daydream she’d been hiding in and stared at the phone receiver in her hand. She’d dialled the number automatically without even realising that she’d done it.

  ‘Hi, David, it’s Abby Tyler here. I’ve got a bit of an obstetric emergency. I wondered if you would mind coming in for a consult?’

  A smile danced across her lips as she listened to the voice at the end of the phone. She could sense Luke’s eyes on her, willing her not to say anything that would reveal the identity of their patient.

  ‘Ten minutes would be great. Thanks, David.’

  She replaced the phone and grinned. ‘That’s our emergency obstetrician. He’ll be here soon.’

  Luke leaned back against the nearby wall and folded his arms across his wide chest. His brow furrowed suspiciously. ‘Why do I get the feeling you’re not telling me something, Abby?’

  She shook her head and winked at him. ‘You’ll see.’

  A wave of fear swept across Luke’s chest. ‘No funny stuff, Abby. He’s definitely an obstetrician?’

  ‘Oh, yes, he’s definitely an obstetrician.’ One of the nearby nurse practitioners walked up quickly and touched Luke’s arm.

  ‘Dr Storm?’

  He nodded swiftly.

  ‘We’ll be set up for you in the next ten minutes, I’m just going to get the patient.’ She nodded towards Abby. ‘Dr Tyler will tell you where we are.’ She carried on down the corridor and into the trauma room to collect Dr Blair.

  ‘Some things never change.’ Abby surveyed the surrounding chaos around her. Her once peaceful emergency department looked as if it had been invaded by a black-suited army.

  ‘What?’ Luke glanced around him.

  ‘Storm by name, Storm by nature.’

  ‘You know I hate it when you say that.’

  ‘That makes it all the more fun.’ She watched as one black-suited man talked into his jacket lapel, while holding his finger to his ear, as if listening for a reply. She raised her eyebrow at Luke. ‘We still have a problem here, Luke.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ The last thing he needed was more problems.

  ‘I’m a paediatrician. I do children—kids.’ She wiggled her hand in the air. ‘I do some babies but certainly not early babies. Not neonates. We might have an obstetrician but what we really need is a neonatologist. And I’m not that.’ She shook her head. ‘This really isn’t my specialty.’

  Luke folded his arms ac
ross his chest. ‘I’ve never known you to run from a challenge.’

  Abby waved her hand around her. ‘In an emergency situation I could probably muddle through. But if the baby needs supported ventilation then we just don’t have the facilities, and this is the President’s baby, Luke.’

  ‘I know that.’ He ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation. ‘Well, what the hell are you doing here? Mendocino Valley, of all places?’ His arm swept outwards across the expanse of the department.

  Abby was instantly irritated. ‘What do you mean by that?’

  Luke tilted his head. ‘Last time I saw you, you had just been offered the job of a lifetime in San Francisco. Five years later I find you here, in some backwater clinic in the middle of nowhere. What happened, Abby?’

  Abby shook her head and carefully closed the notes in front of her, bringing them up and clutching them to her chest. ‘Just shows how little you really knew me, Luke. It might well have been the job of a lifetime, but it wasn’t my job of a lifetime. You happened, Luke. You made me re-evaluate my life. And even though I didn’t think it at the time, you probably did me a favour. I love being here in Mendocino Valley. I do still work in San Francisco, but I only took the job because it means I can work here, in Pelican Cove, for twelve weeks a year. This is where I want to be.’

  Luke’s cool eyes watched her carefully, a wave of guilt sweeping over him. For the second time in five minutes he wondered what she wasn’t telling him. She was holding the case notes to her chest as if she were protecting a closely guarded secret. The Abby Tyler he’d known had had the world at her feet. She’d been approached by three prestigious university hospitals to take part in their paediatric residency programmes. She’d been dedicated and focused. Something about this wasn’t quite right. Why would the woman who’d been top of her class and had had the pick of any job be working in a backwater place like this?

  CHAPTER TWO

  ABBY watched with a sinking feeling in her heart as the nitra-zine paper turned the tell-tale shade of blue. She raised her head and gave Jennifer a rueful smile as she showed her the paper. ‘Well, I think we can safely say that your membranes have ruptured.’

  ‘They have?’

  ‘Yes. This paper turns blue when it comes into contact with amniotic fluid.’

  Jennifer blew out a long, slow breath from her pursed lips. ‘It’s too early. What happens now?’

  Abby snapped off her gloves, walking quickly to the sink to wash her hands. She finished and sat down at the side of the bed next to Jennifer, trying to work out what to tell her.

  ‘It won’t really be up to me, it will be up to Dr Fairgreaves—the obstetrician that’s coming to see you. I just needed to confirm your membranes had ruptured so I can give him the whole picture.’

  ‘Do you need to examine me any further?’ Jennifer gave a little grimace and Abby knew exactly what she meant.

  She shook her head. ‘No, actually, that wouldn’t be a good idea right now. Ideally what we want to do right now is to delay you going into labour for as long as possible.’

  ‘Tell it to me straight, Dr Tyler.’

  Abby leaned over and held Jennifer’s hand. ‘There are a number of things for Dr Fairgreaves to consider.’ She held up the buff-coloured folder. ‘From your notes I see that you’re currently 31 weeks and 4 days. He may decide to give you some steroids to help mature your baby’s lungs in case of early delivery. He might also decide to give you some antibiotics to help prevent infection.’

  ‘Am I going to deliver early?’

  Abby shook her head. ‘I’m not really qualified to tell you that. I do know that about 80 per cent of women whose membranes rupture go into labour within four days.’

  Jennifer took a deep breath and her hands rested automatically on her swollen abdomen. ‘What are my baby’s chances?’

  Abby shook her head. ‘We’ll talk about that when Dr Fairgreaves gets here. I want to hear what his professional opinion is before we start leaping to any conclusions. From right now, though, you’re on strict bed rest.’

  Jennifer threw up her hands in frustration. ‘But I’ve already been on bed rest!’

  Abby raised one eyebrow. ‘Have you?’

  Jennifer watched her carefully before finally answering, ‘Well, maybe not complete bed rest.’

  ‘We need to monitor your baby for any signs of distress and monitor you for any sign of infection.’ She hesitated a little before continuing, ‘It might also be advisable to move you to a hospital with better facilities for preterm babies.’

  Jennifer looked deep in thought and bit her bottom lip. ‘Where would that be?’

  ‘The nearest is San Francisco Children’s Hospital. They have a special ICU for premature deliveries.’

  ‘No.’

  The voice was clear and decisive and took Abby completely by surprise.

  ‘What?’

  Jennifer folded her arms firmly across her chest. ‘I’m staying here.’

  Abby shook her head in disbelief. ‘Why on earth would you want to stay here?’

  ‘Wouldn’t moving me be dangerous?’

  Abby shifted uncomfortably. Jennifer’s sharp retort unnerved her. In an instant she was in a witness box and being cross-examined by the more-than-capable lawyer. This wasn’t her specialty and she was beginning to feel at little out of her depth. ‘This is a conversation you need to have with your obstetrician.’

  ‘Oh.’

  This response was different. Quiet and unsure. She’d gone from being a feisty lawyer to an imminent first-time mom in a matter of seconds. This woman was more scared than she was letting on.

  ‘What’s he like?’ Jennifer ran her fingers through her uncombed hair. ‘Your obstetrician.’ She hesitated for a second. ‘Is he good?’

  Abby gave her a little smile. ‘Officially he’s retired. But in answer to your question he’s better than good—he’s great.’ She was interrupted by a heavy knock at the door.

  ‘Abby … Dr Tyler, can I see you please?’

  Abby could hear the anxiety in Luke’s voice. She gave Jennifer a smile, picked up the notes and headed to the door. ‘I’ll be back in a few minutes.’

  She pulled a pen from her pocket as she opened the door. She wanted to make sure she’d recorded everything perfectly. With her head in the notes she walked straight into Luke’s broad chest.

  ‘Ow! Luke, what are you doing?’

  Luke shook his head and pointed sideways in exasperation. ‘Please tell me that isn’t your obstetrician.’

  Abby followed to where his finger was pointing to a small dishevelled character dressed from head to toe in fishing gear, with an upright fishing rod perched precariously in his hand. He was surrounded on all sides by men in black suits and was protesting loudly, ‘Who the hell are you lot?’

  Abby’s face broke into a wide smile. ‘It certainly is,’ she said as she shouldered her way past the security detail. ‘Dr Fairgreaves, I’m so glad you’re here.’ She wrapped him in a warm embrace and pulled him to one side. ‘We need to have a private chat about our patient.’

  She handed him the buff-coloured folder and watched as he ran his eyes over the presidential seal on the bottom corner of the notes. His eyes narrowed. ‘Who’s this?’ He gestured in frustration as a figure appeared at Abby’s side.

  Luke. ‘I was just about to ask you the same question,’ he muttered under his breath.

  ‘I might be old, son, but there’s nothing wrong with my hearing.’

  ‘Well, do you always come to work looking like this?’ Luke gestured towards the fishing gear.

  ‘Son, I try not to come to work at all if I can help it. I’m retired.’

  ‘You’re retired?’ Luke’s voice rose in pitch.

  Abby cleared her throat loudly before the conversation got out of hand. ‘Luke, I’d like you to meet Dr David Fairgreaves, our honorary obstetrician, and, David, I’d like you to meet Dr Luke Storm, he’s a cardiologist from Washington who brought the First Lady in.
’

  David’s brow furrowed in confusion. ‘Why the hell is a cardiologist bringing a pregnant lady to hospital?’

  Abby smiled. In an instant she wasn’t the First Lady any more, she was simply an expectant mother, like any other. She loved that about David Fairgreaves—even though he’d been pursued by many dignitaries and celebrities for his services, he never wasted time on pomp and ceremony. His patients were just that, his patients.

  Abby slid her arm around David Fairgreaves’s shoulders, ‘Her own obstetrician is currently having an MI—Luke is about to treat him.’

  David stared at Luke for a moment before finally grunting, ‘Fine, then.’ He sat down and started reading the notes.

  Luke stood frozen to the spot. ‘David Fairgreaves? The David Fairgreaves?’

  Abby nodded in recognition of the man who was famous all over America for his ground-breaking work. He’d received numerous awards for pioneering the procedure to retrieve stem cells from the umbilical cord. Something that seemed almost commonplace now, but at the time had been a real revolutionary leap of faith. He’d done that while continuing to work as an obstetrician and was known as one of the best in America.

  Luke groaned. ‘This is turning into a bad TV show. What on earth is David Fairgreaves doing here?’

  ‘You mean in this backwater place?’ She couldn’t help the sarcasm that crept into her voice. Then, seeing the expression on his face, Abby sneaked her hand around his waist and gave him a quick hug. Luke’s stress levels seemed to be going through the roof. The warmth of his body immediately poured through her skin. She raised her head up towards his and smiled. ‘Fishing.’

  ‘What?’ Luke looked totally bewildered.

  She shrugged her shoulders. ‘He’s got a fishing boat in Pelican Cove, and now he’s retired he spends half the year here. We have an informal arrangement together that I can call him out for any obstetric emergencies and he loves it.’

  Luke studied the man in the rumpled clothes sitting in the chair in front of him. ‘He looks about a hundred and ten,’ he whispered.