Medical Romance November 2016 Books 1-6

It had come right on the heels of him telling her that he was done trying to have babies. It had made everything that much worse. But she’d still desperately wanted children, so she’d started keeping secret recordings of her temperature. Only the more secretive she’d got over the coming weeks, the more distant he’d become. In the end, the death knell had sounded before he’d ever found that journal.

Back to food, Annabelle.

She set her tray on the metal supports running parallel to the food selections and gazed into the glass case. Baked chicken? No. Salad? No. Fruit? Yes. She picked up a clear plastic container of fruit salad and set it on her tray, pushing it a few feet further down the line. Sandwiches? Her stomach clenched in revulsion. Not at the food, but at the thought of trying to push that bread down her oesophagus.

Broccoli? Healthy, and she normally loved it, but no. She kept moving past the selection of veggies until she hit the dessert section.

Bad Annabelle. What would your mum say?

She peered back down the row, wondering if she should reverse her steps and make better choices. Except when she glanced the way she’d come, her gaze didn’t fall on food. It fell on the very person she was trying to forget. Max.

And he was with Sienna. Both were holding food trays, which meant...

Oh, no! They were eating lunch too.

It’s what people do. They eat. They sleep. Her throat tightened. They move away to far-off places.

Sienna waved to her. ‘Hey, Annabelle. Hold on. Would you like to join us? We can talk about Baby Hope, and you can help catch Max up on the case.’

It was on the tip of her tongue to say she was going to eat back in her office, but she’d just been worrying about the baby. Any light they could shed on her prognosis should outweigh any awkwardness of eating with her ex. Right?

Right.

‘Sure. I’ll save you a spot.’ She tossed a container of yoghurt onto her plate and then a large slice of chocolate cake for good measure. Handing her personnel card to the cashier and praying she scanned it before the pair caught up with her, she threw a smile at the woman and then headed out towards the crowd of people already parked at tables.

Setting her tray on one of the only available tables in the far corner, she hesitated. Should she really be doing this?

Yes. Anything for Baby Hope.

She shut her eyes. Was she becoming as obsessed with this infant as she had been with her quest to become pregnant all those years ago?

No. Looking back now, those attempts seemed so futile. Desperate attempts by a desperate woman. Max’s childhood had been pretty awful, and she’d wanted to show him how it should be. How wonderful hers had been. And since he had no blood relatives left alive, she’d wanted to give him that physical connection—for the roots she’d had with her own extended family to take hold and spread. Only none of it had worked.

If her sister hadn’t had a devastating experience when trying to adopt a baby, Annabelle might have gone that route after her first miscarriage. But if the grief she’d felt after losing a baby she’d never met was horrific, how much worse had it been for her sister, who’d held a baby in her arms for months only to have to hand him back over to the courts weeks before the adoption was finalised? The whole family had been shattered. And so Annabelle had continued on her quest to have a biological child, only to fail time and time again.

She popped open the lid to her fruit, realising it was the only truly healthy thing on her plate. She’d just wanted to get out of that canteen line at any cost.

Her mouth twisted sideways. It looked as if the final cost would be paid by her waistline and hips. She shoved a huge blueberry into her mouth and bit down hard just as Max and Sienna joined her. Juice spurted over her teeth and drummed at the backs of her lips, seeking the nearest available exit.

Perfect. She covered her mouth with her napkin as she continued to fight with the food, finally swallowing it down with a couple of coughs afterwards.

Max frowned as he sat. ‘Okay?’

‘Yes.’ Another cough, louder this time, a few people at neighbouring tables glancing her way. Probably wondering who they were going to have to do the Heimlich on this time. She swallowed again, clearing her throat. ‘Just went down the wrong pipe.’

Sienna, who arrived with only some kind of green bottled concoction that made Annabelle horrified at what her own plate contained, twisted the lid to her liquid lunch and sat down. She nodded at the selection. ‘I’m finding smaller portions are easier to handle when I’m working. I’ll eat a proper meal when I go off duty.’

Forcing herself to cut a chunk of melon into more manageable pieces, she wished she could be just as disciplined as the surgeon. Well, today was not a good day to stand in judgement of herself. Was it any wonder she was seeking out comfort food? Her husband had just landed back in her life.

She couldn’t even pretend to have a boyfriend, because if there’d been anyone serious she obviously would have wanted to pressure Max into signing the divorce papers. But she hadn’t.

Ugh! She chewed quickly and then swallowed, thankful that at least this time she wasn’t choking.

A phone chirped and all three of them looked down at their devices, making her smile. Her screen was blank, so it wasn’t Ella, who she hadn’t heard from all day, which was unusual. Maybe she hadn’t heard that Max was back.

Or maybe she had.

Sienna frowned, setting her drink down on the table so quickly the contents sloshed, almost coming over the rim of the bottle. She stared at her phone for several seconds, not touching the screen. Either it was very good news...or very...

The other doctor stood up, her tongue flicking out to moisten her lips. ‘I’m sorry, I have to go.’ She glanced at Max. ‘Can you carry on without me?’

‘Of course. Is everything all right?’

‘It will be.’ Her hand went to her midsection. And rather than responding to whoever had sent a message, she dropped her phone into the pocket of her scrubs and picked up her drink, screwing the cap back on. ‘Page me if you have any questions or need help.’

‘I think I’m good.’ Max sent Annabelle a wry glance. ‘I’m sure Anna can answer any questions about Hope or the hospital I might have.’

Or about why he hadn’t severed those final ties that bound them together?

Somehow, though, she doubted he was any more eager to revisit their past than she was. But still, the last thing she wanted today was to play hospital adviser to a man who still made her knees quake. She had no idea why that was so. She was over him. Had been for the last couple of years. In fact, she hadn’t thought of him in...

Well, the last fifteen seconds, but that didn’t count, since he was sitting right across from her. Before today, she’d gone weeks at a time without him crossing her mind.

But since Sienna was glancing her way as if needing reassurance that it was indeed okay to leave them alone without a referee, Annabelle nodded. ‘Go. It’ll be fine.’

Looking a little doubtful, but evidently not enough to want to stick around, the cardiothoracic surgeon gave a quick wave and headed towards the entrance of the canteen. Annabelle noticed she slid her phone out of her pocket and stared at the screen again as she rounded the corner.

She wondered what that was all about. But it was really none of her business.

But Baby Hope was, and since that was why Sienna had wanted to sit with her...

‘Is there some news about the baby?’ Maybe that was what the message was about. Could it be that...? ‘Could a heart have become available?’

Hope sparked in her chest, flaring to life with a jolt that had her leaning forward and sent her plastic fork dropping back onto her tray.

Max must have seen something in her face because he shook his head. ‘No. Not yet. I think she would have told us if that message had anything to do with a donor heart.’

She sagged back into her chair. ‘I was hoping...’

‘I know. Why don’t we work on things we can control until one is available? Tell me anything else you can think of about her. The events surrounding her birth, et cetera.’

‘Are you looking for something in particular?’ She’d told him pretty much everything she knew back in the special care baby unit.

Max pulled a small notebook out of one of the pockets of his jacket. ‘I can look at her chart and get the mechanics. But tell me about her. Anything out of the ordinary that you’ve noticed that you think might help.’

She picked up her fork and pushed around a few more blueberries, not trying to really stab any of them but using the empty gesture as a way to sort through her thoughts about Hope.

‘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 suffering 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.