The Doctor's Baby Secret

CHAPTER TWO

AUSTIN PULLED UP a stool next to Michael at the bar and they clinked their beer bottles together. ‘Here’s to the next eighteen months.’ Michael smiled. He hadn’t stopped smiling since they’d met a few hours ago—he was still getting over the delight of being selected for the programme.

Austin took a long slow drink of his beer. The bar was packed. And judging from the photos on the walls it seemed it was a long-time favourite of the astronauts based in Houston, Texas. He tried not to stare but it was difficult—he’d followed the careers of most of these astronauts at one point. He’d even done a school project on the first moon landing. Space had always been the dream and these guys were his real-life heroes.

A tune started cranking out from the old-style jukebox in the corner of the room. It was probably older than him and he couldn’t help but smile as the lyrics of ‘You’ve Lost that Lovin’ Feelin’’ echoed around the room. There were murmurs beside him as people started to sing along.

The door swung open, letting in a bright streak of orange sunset. He recognised the silhouette straight away. Curves, curves and more curves.

She was wearing a dark suit similar to the one she’d had on the other day. A one-button jacket accentuating her waist and breasts and a knee-skimming skirt. Her blonde hair was smooth and sleek today—he thought he preferred it windswept and interesting, as it had been that first day.

She walked straight over to the bar and nodded at the barman, who seemed to know her drink. He set down a glass in front of her, which she picked up before heading off to one of the booths to sit next to the other instructors.

Michael bumped his elbow. ‘Which one is she, then?’

Austin took another swig of beer. ‘That’s Dr Corrine Carter—one of the medical team.’

Michael frowned. ‘Corrine Carter. That’s quite a sharp name. Sounds edgy.’

Austin watched as she glided into the leather seats in the booth. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said smoothly. ‘It looks all curves to me.’

The bartender came back and smiled. ‘Well, I guess it’s you, then.’

The two heads turned to him. ‘What do you mean?’ asked Michael.

The bartender nodded at Austin. ‘Every year, one of the astronaut candidates asks one of the instructors to dance. It’s a tradition.’ He smiled at Austin. ‘Looks like it’s going to be you.’

Austin shook his head. ‘I don’t think so.’

One of the other candidates—Taryn—leaned on the bar. She nodded. ‘I think I’ve heard of this before.’ Her eyes connected with Austin’s. ‘I think he’s serious.’ She glanced over at Corrine and smiled as she took a swig of her drink. ‘What’s wrong, Bates, you scared?’

Every other candidate’s head turned. It seemed as if the bartender had their full attention.

Austin tried not to smile. The girl was good. She already knew how to press all his buttons. He’d have to watch her in future.

The bartender laughed. He must have seen this all before. And Taryn almost made it sound like a dare. ‘Just be thankful for equal opportunities.’ He winked at Austin. ‘One year it was all male candidates and all male instructors.’

The candidates around burst out laughing as Austin pushed the bar stool back and stood up. He put his bottle of beer back on the bar. He glanced over at Corrine. She was in mid conversation with her colleagues, her blonde hair sitting perfectly on her shoulders. She’d slipped off her jacket and was wearing a pale blue short-sleeved fitted shirt. He could see her defined, tanned arms and her long fingers playing in the condensation on the side of her glass. That simple act sent little pulses to places it shouldn’t.

He raised his eyebrows, straightened his uniform and gave a cheeky smile to his colleagues. ‘I’m never one to step away from a challenge,’ he said confidently.

His colleagues whoop-whooped around him. It was bravado. But only he knew that. He was pretty sure what was going to happen next.

Michael grinned. ‘Watch out, Bates. That’s a slippery slope you’re on.’

Austin blinked and took a final drink of his beer. ‘I know,’ he said, smiling as he walked over to the booth.

* * *

She’d seen him as soon as she’d entered the bar. It was amazing how supersonic your vision could become when you focused on not looking at someone. Really focused on not looking at someone. It was much harder than you thought.

The gin wasn’t nearly as refreshing as she wanted it to be. Usually just a few sips made her chill. Tonight she was wound up tighter than a coiled spring. She shuffled along next to the other instructors, slipped off her suit jacket and tried to focus on what they were saying.

‘His points were off the chart.’

‘He really scored that highly?’

She took another sip of her gin. ‘Who are we talking about?’

‘Bates. Austin Mitchell. Also known as Superboy.’

Great. Perfect. The last person she wanted to talk about. ‘I wouldn’t exactly call him a boy.’

Marcia, one of the other instructors, raised her eyebrows. ‘Really? Then just what would you call him?’

The other instructors started laughing good-humouredly. Frank, the guy on her left, nudged her. ‘You gave him the news—how was he?’

Corrine tried not to look flustered and she remembered exactly how he’d looked in that dark hangar with his smouldering eyes. ‘A pain in the neck. He’s too confident.’

‘Aren’t they all?’ Marcia laughed.

Corrine shook her head. ‘No. Not at all. Lisa Kravitz the school teacher—she didn’t expect it at all. She was totally stunned. Lewis Donnell, the marine—he and his whole unit couldn’t have made more noise if they’d tried.’

Marcia looked at her curiously. ‘So what did Bates do that was so different?’

Corrine licked her lips. The mixture of gin and cherry ChapStick wasn’t exactly enticing. She was still annoyed by his less than enthusiastic reaction. ‘Nothing. That was exactly the point. Nothing. It was like he’d expected it all along. I mean, there’s no way anyone could be that confident. There are a thousand different reasons a candidate wouldn’t be selected for the programme.’

Adam—the oldest instructor and a former astronaut himself—gave a secret kind of smile. ‘I don’t know. Sometimes that’s the best attitude. The winning attitude. You don’t have room in your mind to think it won’t actually happen.’

Corrine sighed and ran her finger around the edge of her glass. She’d changed her mind about the gin. A spritzer would have hit the mark much better. She reached over for an empty wine glass on the table and filled it up with some white wine sitting in a cooler next to Marcia.

‘What’s the deal with the call sign anyway? Shouldn’t it be something much cooler?’

‘Like what?’ Frank took a swig of his beer and shifted in his seat.

‘You know, like Maverick or Viper or Cougar or... Lightning.’ She was grasping at straws now.

Frank shook his head. ‘You watch way too many movies, Corrine.’

She shrugged her shoulders. ‘But why Bates? It’s not anything like his name. And it’s kind of boring.’

Frank laughed. ‘Oh, that’s easy.’ Then he shook his head. ‘And it’s certainly not boring.’

She wrinkled her nose. Frank had been a Top Gun instructor too. Maybe it was some weird navy thing she didn’t know about.

He held out his hand towards her. ‘Let me expand it a little for you. Bates. Norman Bates.’

Corrine blinked and glanced from person to person around the table. Everyone else seemed to have caught on immediately. ‘What do you mean? That he’s crazy?’

The others started to laugh.

‘But that’s impossible. Our pilots undergo complete psychological evaluations. We can’t have anyone that’s a risk taker. That could compromise the mission.’

Adam shook his head. ‘Oh, he’s not crazy. But he’s made some of the gutsiest flight moves I’ve ever seen. That’s how he earned his call sign. And we need people that can make good decisions under pressure—even when it seems like the chips are down. If Austin Mitchell makes it to the space station I think he’ll be a great asset to our programme.’ He raised his glass. ‘I’d even take bets on him making it.’

Marcia shook her head. ‘I’m not taking that bet. He’s too good.’

Frank shook his head too. ‘Me either. I know a shoo-in when I see one.’

Corrine started to get annoyed. Everyone seemed to think this guy was great. They hadn’t seen the gleam of arrogance in his eyes. The one that had prickled her senses in all the wrong places. There were some catcalls from the other side of the bar. A little tremor danced down her spine but there was no way she was turning around.

‘Uh-oh.’ Marcia smiled as she pushed her glass around the table. ‘It looks like Superboy is on his way over.’

She couldn’t help it. Corrine turned towards the bar. Austin Mitchell was walking straight towards them. No. Straight towards her. His eyes locked with hers. That darn white uniform showed off the width of his shoulders and chest. The gold on his epaulettes gleamed at her. But the thing that freaked her out most was the confident grin on his face.

He held out his hand towards her as he gave a brief nod to the others at the table. ‘Dr Carter. Would you like to dance?’

Her mouth almost fell open. It was right up there with things least likely to expect.

She almost choked. ‘What?’ She could hear a stifled snigger behind her.

She looked around the bar. The music was audible, but low—and there was no dance floor. It just wasn’t that kind of place.

His bright blue eyes were fixed on hers. She hadn’t been able to see them properly in the dark hangar. Which was probably just as well, because right now she was getting the full hypnotic effect. The artificial lights in the bar seemed perfect for showing them at their best.

‘Dance,’ he said calmly, as if she’d misunderstood.

There was a nudge at her back. Frank was almost willing her to go. But the nudge lit a little flare inside her. How dared he? How dared he approach her so directly in front of all her colleagues—his instructors—and practically ask her out? Didn’t the guy have any decorum?

‘No,’ she said quickly. ‘I don’t want to dance.’ She couldn’t hide the disdain in her voice. The coil inside was tightening. She’d wanted to relax tonight—not put herself in an uncomfortable position.

Her earlier comment about him not being a boy had already been misinterpreted by her colleagues. Now, they might actually think something was going on. That was the last thing she needed. She’d only been at WSSA for a few years. This was her first astronaut candidate selection. Her position and job meant everything to her. She’d put her life on hold for it. She didn’t want anything to interfere.

Austin was still standing smiling at her. It was almost as if he hadn’t heard her say no.

She stood up quickly and tugged at her skirt, pulling it back into position. She gave him a sharp stare. ‘That would be a no, Lieutenant Commander Mitchell. Now, if you’d excuse me, myself and your other instructors need to have conversations that you can’t be party to.’

She gave him a nod as she brushed past. It was important that he respect her position on the team. It was important that he realised she wouldn’t be compromised. No matter how good he looked in that uniform. She could see all the expectant faces of the rest of the candidates in the background. They were watching with interest. Waiting to see what she would do. Did any of them actually think she might say yes?

The hairs on his arms came into contact with her skin. Ignore it. Her brain repeated the message as she walked towards the ladies’ room. Her skin was on fire. A thousand little caterpillars were currently marching across that tiny patch of skin. She couldn’t help it—her other hand automatically reached across and rubbed it as she banged the ladies’ room door open with her hip.

Cold water. That was what she needed right now. Anything that would stop the persistent fire caused by Austin Mitchell from circulating around her body.

* * *

There was a whoop behind him as Corrine brushed past him as if he didn’t exist. He’d seen it. That little flicker in her eyes. It wasn’t panic. She wasn’t the type. The disbelief he’d almost expected, but hesitation he hadn’t. Was there the tiniest chance she might have said yes?

He shrugged and gave a rueful smile to the other instructors. Adam winked. He knew exactly what was going on. Traditions didn’t just exist amongst Top Gun pilots—WSSA candidates had a whole book of their own.

Frank stood up. ‘Excuse me, folks. Back in a bit.’ His face looked a bit pinched.

Austin watched him head to the gents’. Was he annoyed with him? He moved back and put a twenty on the bar. ‘Get another round,’ he said to Michael.

Michael lifted the twenty and waved to the bartender. ‘Crashed and burned.’ He laughed at Austin. ‘Get used to it. Corrine Carter looked mad.’

Austin stared at the swinging door of the gents’. It was weird. His parents used to tease him as a kid—they’d told him that his spider sense was tingling whenever he’d had an instinct about things. They’d learned quickly he was always right—even when everything seemed fine. It had served him well on his tours of duty and on his test flights. Knowing when something just wasn’t quite right with a plane or mission had saved him on more than one occasion.

And tonight his spider sense was busy creating a full-on web.

He strode towards the gents’. What was the worst that could happen? Frank would tear a few strips off him for his stunt. He was a big boy. He could take it easily.

The door swung open. Frank hadn’t even made it to a cubicle. His hand was leaning on the wall above one of the urinals. Austin quickly averted his eyes—last thing he needed to do was watch another man take a leak.

But his instincts were on overtime. Darn it. He looked again. Frank hadn’t even managed to unzip his trousers. His other hand was resting on his chest.

‘Frank? You okay?’

He made it just in time. The guy’s legs crumpled beneath him and Austin caught him as he made a slow descent to the floor. Frank was no lightweight—he must have been around twenty stone—but Austin could handle it.

He eased him onto the floor and laid him on his back. Hell. What next?

He didn’t have any advanced medical training, just the basic navy first-aid course.

Part of the WSSA training would be about emergency medical situations like this—it seemed he was starting early.

Frank’s colour was terrible, a mixture of translucent and grey, with a slight blue tinge around his lips. Austin bent his head to Frank’s chest, listening and watching for any rise and fall. He pressed his fingers to Frank’s carotid pulse. Nothing. He moved them. Maybe he wasn’t in the right place?

‘I need some help in here,’ he yelled.

He tipped Frank’s head back and steeled himself. Mouth-to-mouth with a guy. Just as well he didn’t have time to think about this. He pinched his nose and covered Frank’s mouth with his, breathing out once and then twice.

The door banged open to his side. He didn’t even look up.

‘What the...?’ Corrine’s voice tailed off immediately.

He could almost see the instant recognition in her eyes and the work-mode focus coming into play. ‘Ambulance, now,’ she shouted over her shoulder before crossing the floor in a few long strides.

She didn’t miss a beat, just hitched up her skirt—giving him a generous shot of thigh—and knelt down beside him. It took her only a few seconds to do her own assessment. Her eyes met his. ‘Right, Lieutenant Commander Mitchell, let’s see how good you are.’

* * *

Her heart was thudding against her chest. When she’d heard the call for help she’d moved immediately—even though she hadn’t recognised the voice.

It had a taken a couple of seconds to comprehend the sight of Austin leaning over Frank and kissing him before her medical senses had taken hold.

Frank looked awful. Why hadn’t she noticed anything earlier? Why hadn’t he told her he felt unwell?

Everything was automatic from that point onwards. Airway clear, breathing absent, circulation absent. She pushed aside everything personal. She loved Frank. He was one of the kindest, nicest guys she’d ever worked with. It would be so easy to be emotional. But she couldn’t let herself be. She always had to put a wall between herself and the patient she was treating—it couldn’t be personal. Not in any way at all.

As for Lieutenant Commander Mitchell? She needed a partner in crime right now. And it seemed it would have to be him. None of the other medical staff were here. She was Frank’s best chance and that was all she could focus on.

She positioned herself above the chest, kneeling on the hard floor and crossing her hands one over the other on Frank’s chest. She couldn’t even count how many times she’d done this before.

What she really needed was an oxygen supply, IV access, a defibrillator, cardiac monitoring and a whole host of emergency drugs. What she had was herself and Austin Mitchell. And just how much use could a guy be whose call sign was Bates?

‘We’re going to do thirty to two.’

He blinked and she recognised his confusion.

She started compressions, counting out loud while recognition dawned on Austin’s face. This was as up close and personal as they’d got. His face was only a few inches from hers, positioned opposite and above Frank’s face. There were a few tiny lines around the corners of his eyes. A shadow along his jaw line and dark lashes around his blue eyes.

On an ordinary day the features of Austin Mitchell would be a lot to admire. Today, she couldn’t allow them to distract her.

She got to thirty and stopped for a second. The door swung open as Austin bent automatically to do the two breaths. She had no idea if he had any first-aid experience. But he tilted the head back to the right angle, pinched Frank’s nose and covered Frank’s mouth with his and breathed out at a steady rate.

‘Oh, Frank. No.’ Marcia’s voice was both shocked and scared. Corrine started compressions again, counting in her head. ‘Ask if they’ve got an AED,’ she said automatically. ‘A defib,’ she added.

‘Right.’ Marcia disappeared out of the door only to be replaced by Adam and Blair.

She started counting out loud to prepare Austin for his next stint. ‘Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.’ She sat back for a second and took a deep breath.

‘Someone find out how long the ambulance will be,’ she directed as Austin finished the breaths and sat back. She started counting out loud again. It didn’t matter that in theory she knew the person doing the compressions should change every two minutes. There was no way she’d let someone who’d never done this before take over from her. Getting the compressions right was important.

‘No defib.’ Marcia’s pale face appeared in the doorway again. Blair put his arm around her shoulder automatically. Adam gave a little shake of his head. ‘I’ll wait outside for the ambulance.’

‘Six minutes,’ came the shout from outside.

Six minutes. She could do that. She was being methodical. Pushing everything else from her brain. This was Frank. The guy with years of experience at WSSA and the most self-deprecating humour. He could find something to joke about even on the darkest of days. But most of all he listened. He’d welcomed her as a new instructor. Shown her all the ropes. Explained the systems, procedures and protocols that could be mind-boggling and sent her in the right direction when things had seemed like a puzzled map of tunnels.

He lived and breathed WSSA. Had done for years. His wife had died of cancer a few years ago and, although he spent his holidays with his grown-up daughter, he was first at work in the morning and last away at night.

There was no way she was going to have to make that I’m so sorry call to his daughter, Lucy.

She was praying for a coronary—even a massive one with a clot could be dealt with by an angioplasty and stented if necessary. A pulmonary embolism would—at this stage—have probably caused fatal damage. A stroke could be similar.

The muscles in her arms started to burn a little. It was nothing. She could handle it. A warm hand reached over hers as she counted out loud. ‘Want to swap?’

It was probably only a millisecond. But it seemed like so much more. It was the first time she’d recognised sincerity in Austin Mitchell’s gaze. On every other occasion his confidence had almost seemed to mock her. But this time it was different. This time she saw a glimmer of the man he actually was instead of the person he showed the world.

His gaze seemed to drift downwards, then he gave his head a little shake and met her eyes again.

She glanced down. It was clear from his position that he had a prime-time view straight down the front of her shirt to her cleavage. At least he’d had the decency to avert his eyes. Austin Mitchell wasn’t all face and bravado.

‘I’m fine,’ she said quickly. ‘Just keep going.’

And he did. They worked in unison for the next few minutes. She could hear the voices outside. The other candidates had realised that something was wrong but Blair stood across the doorway and none would dare argue with him. They didn’t need to see Frank like this.

Every compression hurt her arms and made her shoulders ache. But she didn’t care. She was trying not to let the statistics she knew about MI circulate around her brain. Defibrillation was the best bet. Every minute it was delayed reduced Frank’s chances.

There was a shout outside and Adam ran in with the paramedics behind him. He must have filled them in on who she was because they didn’t bombard her with a series of questions. One immediately pulled out the pads for the defibrillator and the other opened the carton of drugs. She ripped open Frank’s shirt and let the paramedic place the pads, watching the monitor and praying for a shockable rhythm.

Someone was listening. VF. Ventricular fibrillation. The automated response from the machine filled the air. ‘Stand clear, shocking.’

She reached for the IV kit, her eyes not leaving the monitor. Frank’s body jerked in response to the shock. The thin green line reappeared, squiggly with no discernible pattern.

‘Stand clear, shocking,’ the machine said again. The room was silent. Frank’s body jerked once again and this time the line was different. It took a few seconds to appear, but this time it was a slow sinus rhythm.

Corrine didn’t stop to think. She turned Frank’s arm over and quickly inserted a cannula for venous access. They’d need it if he arrested again.

Everything moved like clockwork. Austin sat back, allowing the other paramedic to check the airway and slip an oxygen mask in place as they positioned Frank onto the stretcher.

There was no end of volunteers to help take the stretcher out to the waiting ambulance and Corrine gave one of the paramedics a nod. ‘I’ll be coming with you.’

He acknowledged her as they lifted Frank into the back of the ambulance. Marcia came over and grabbed her arm. ‘Call me as soon as you get there. Adam’s already contacting Frank’s daughter. We’ll let you know when we get her.’

Something prickled at the back of her spine. She looked at the crowded, anxious faces staring into the back of the ambulance. One was missing.

‘Give me a sec,’ she shouted to the paramedic as he hooked Frank up to their equipment.

She pushed her way through the crowd. Austin wasn’t anywhere in sight.

It only took a few steps to reach the gents’ again. He was standing quietly, staring at the floor where Frank had lain and rubbing his hands together. She recognised that look.

She’d seen it numerous times throughout her career. Whether it was a student doctor, a new nurse or even an old-timer exposed to a situation they weren’t used to.

She just hadn’t expected it from Mr Confidence.

She walked over quickly and stood right under his nose, reaching over and touching his arm. ‘Austin?’

He blinked and stepped back. He hadn’t even realised she’d entered.

She squeezed his arm. ‘You did good. Thanks for your help.’ It was all she had time for. She had to leave right now. But her knowledge and experience meant she’d never leave a team member without acknowledging their part.

His blue eyes met hers. Zing. It was like a little thunderbolt. ‘Any time,’ he murmured quietly as his gaze drifted down to the floor.

Her stomach flip-flopped. Frank was her priority. Frank was all that mattered right now. She nodded and ran back to the door.

Everything else would have to wait.