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Someone had to let him know their new destination and that his wife was struggling at the moment. Not that Steph wanted to be the one to break his heart, but it seemed he was a stayer—had hung around after the first time this had happened. And the second. Chances were he’d do the same again. Melanie mightn’t understand but there was some luck on her side.
‘Would you?’ Melanie tapped her screen and handed the phone over, her teeth nibbling at her lip.
Right, get this done. Tap the phone icon, listen to the ringing, ignore the thumping in your chest. Get it finished, then focus on making this ride as comfortable as possible.
Kind of impossible, given the circumstances, but she’d do all she could to—
‘Ahhh!’ Her patient’s hands clenched and strain tightened her face.
‘Don’t push, whatever you do.’
Easy said...
Shoving the phone aside, Steph moved to re-examine the woman’s cervix. And cursed under her breath. These babies had an agenda of their own and no one, especially their mother, was about to deflect them. What if the babies popped out before they arrived at the hospital? What could she do to keep their chances of survival alive?
Think, girl, think.
The CPAP for breathing. Blankets for warmth. She could only hope they’d get to ED before any of that was needed.
Another contraction was tightening Melanie’s belly. ‘I can’t do this.’
‘We’re doing it together.’ Steph reached for a chilled hand, squeezed gently before once again examining her patient—and not liking what she was seeing.
Straightening up, she reached for the nitrous oxide. ‘Suck on that next time you have a contraction.’
‘I’m such a failure.’
‘Hey, don’t beat yourself up. Right now we’ve got two babies to think about and how best to increase their chances. So, are you up to sucking on that gas when required?’
A sharp nod.
Steph didn’t have time for any more chit-chat. The baby that had been crowning when she’d last looked was now about to slip out into the world.
Preparing for the birth by strategically placing the Continuous Positive Airway Pressure instrument nearby, and soft, light blankets ready to receive the precious bundle, she held her breath and watched and waited for the inevitable.
The blue of her gloves was a sharp contrast to the pale skin on Melanie’s thighs. It seemed impersonal to be welcoming a newborn into the world with a pair of vinyl-covered hands, but it was safer, and this little tot would need all the protection from infections and bugs it was humanly possible to achieve. It had to survive, and survive well.
Melanie tensed. ‘Here we go again,’ she forced out through gritted teeth.
‘You’re doing fine.’
No point telling her otherwise. Baby was coming, ready or not. OMG. So tiny and vulnerable. And blue.
Steph worked fast but carefully, knew nothing but that she was trying to save the tiniest boy she’d ever laid eyes upon.
Why hadn’t she trained as a paediatrician instead of a nurse?
A tap on her shoulder didn’t stop her.
‘We’ve got this.’ A male command. ‘Fill me in fast.’
A quick sideways glance showed a man in scrubs. A further look around and she gasped with relief. The ambulance had stopped, the doors were open and emergency staff were crowding in.
‘First baby arrived...’ she glanced at her watch ‘...three minutes ago. There’s another coming. They’re ten weeks early.’
She rattled off details and obs, handing over the baby to another scrubbed-up doctor, who immediately began working on the infant.
Suddenly she was redundant. That relief expanded. Those babies weren’t relying on her and now had a fighting chance. Fingers crossed. She’d given her all, but was it enough?
Squeezing through to the front of the ambulance to avoid the crowd of medical staff at the rear, she hopped out through Kath’s door and stood out of the way, watching as the experts delivered the second baby. At least this wee lad went straight into an incubator. The first baby had already disappeared amidst gowned, masked staff with one purpose in their minds—to save his life.
Steph’s chest ached where her heart thumped. These babies had to make it. No other outcome was acceptable.
‘Can you unload the stretcher for us?’ someone asked.
Instantly Steph was at the back of the ambulance, unlocking the wheels as Kath took the weight to roll the stretcher out.
‘Here we go,’ she warned Melanie, who was looking all hollowed out, her face sunken, her eyes glittering with tears, hands limp on her less rotund stomach.
‘Are they—?’
‘Yes,’ Kath said firmly.
Please, please live, Steph begged the babies. Your mum needs you.
Once Melanie had been transferred to a bed Steph leaned close. ‘I’ll be thinking about you. Hang in there and all the best.’
Then she made herself scarce, not looking around the department where she’d worked until two years ago, not wanting those memories on top of what had gone down today.
Her knees were wobbly. Her head thumped. And, damn it, her eyes were tearing up. Quite the professional.
Around the corner, out of everyone’s way and sight, Stephanie stopped to lean her forehead against the cold wall and clasped her hands together on top of her head, her eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to halt the threatening waterfall.
Her first day working as a paramedic in Auckland and history had slapped her around the head. Her one attempt at IVF five years ago had failed and her husband had refused to try again, saying it was a waste of time when the doctors couldn’t find any reason for her infertility.
No problems in his department, apparently. And no relief for her empty arms that longed to hold her own baby. It had hit her hard today. Much harsher than it had in a while. She guessed that was what happened when she returned home to where it had all happened.
‘Stephanie? Is that you?’
The deep, throaty voice spun her name into unwelcome heated memories and warmed her skin to knock sideways the chill that had taken over in the ambulance.
Michael.Don’t move.
It might be that she’d imagined him. Anything was possible today.
‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Welcome back. You’ve been missed around here.’
The air swirled around her, touching down on the exposed skin of her face, her neck, her hands. A shape lined up beside her. A peek to the right and there was no doubt about it. Her imagination had not been playing games. She wasn’t sure if that was good. Or bad.
Dr Michael Laing’s shoulders and back rested against the wall, those legs that went on for ever were crossed at the ankles and his hands—oh, yeah, she remembered those hands as much as his lips—were jammed into the pockets of his crumpled scrubs. Just as she remembered him—utterly gorgeous, with that never quite styled hair falling over his forehead in soft curls.
When he said, ‘Still as quiet as ever,’ she shivered.
She wasn’t ready for this—not after those babies arriving in her unprepared hands. ‘Hi.’
Now leave me to pull myself together.
Right then her nose ran and she had to sniff.
He dug into a back pocket, held a handkerchief out. ‘Here, use this. I promise it’s clean.’
Did he have to sound exactly the same? Couldn’t he have grown a polyp in his throat? Or permanently lost his voice from too much shouting at the sidelines of a rugby game?
‘Those babies got to you, didn’t they? They would have got me too if I’d been there. Stephanie...’ He paused, gentled his voice. ‘They’re in expert hands, and everyone in PICU will be working their butts off to save them.’
Pushing away from the wall, she eyeballed him. Nearly choked on a sudden inhalation of air. Michael. That open, friendly face, those intense azure eyes still with the thin layer of need he’d hate to be recognised, that tempting mouth...
‘I know. Sorry for being a goof.’
‘Hardly. You’re human.’
His smile was warm. Tentative?
She blew her nose, gave herself breathing space. ‘I’m fine. Really.’
I was until twenty seconds ago. Liar.
She hadn’t been right since she realised her patient’s IVF babies were coming far too early.
His gaze was caring. Oh, how she remembered that caring. It was his middle name.
‘My thoughts exactly. Just having a bit of a kip against the wall. I get it. It’s how I cope with a crisis too.’
Uh-uh. Not so. Her memory was excellent. This man dealt with harrowing issues by striding out for hours, those long legs chewing up kilometre after kilometre as he went over and over whatever was eating him up. Her leg muscles had ached for days after she’d stuck with him for nearly three hours, charging along the city waterfront, listening as he worked his way through grief and anger one particularly dark day.
‘I haven’t suffered a crisis.’
Not much.
So why were her knees feeling like over-oiled hinges?
His mouth quirked in a funny, heart-slowing way. ‘You used to be embarrassingly honest.’
As in, I feel something for you, Michael and would love to continue seeing you, honest?
But unlike that day, when he’d intoned in a flat voice that he wasn’t interested, now there was a friendly warmth in his voice that touched her deeply. Made her feel vulnerable as the longing to tell him everything cascaded through her.
Tightening her knees, lifting her chin, stuffing that need way down in a dark place, she went with a different truth. ‘I’m gutted that I couldn’t stop those babies coming.’ Even though she was not a doctor. ‘They’re far too early.’
His elbow nudged her lightly. ‘No one would’ve been able to do that, Stephanie. Please stop beating yourself up. You don’t deserve it.’
Seemed he cared that she got this right—which, if she wasn’t prudent, could make falling into those eyes too easy, could make leaving today behind for a while effortless.
Some of the frost that had been enveloping her heart for so long melted. ‘That doesn’t stop me wishing I could’ve.’
His eyes lightened as he looked her over with that smile lingering at the corners of his mouth, offering her support when she most definitely hadn’t asked for it. Not that she didn’t want to ask, but laying her heart out for him to see when she was messed up over those babies would not be her greatest move.
Time to go back to base and hopefully a straightforward call-out to someone who thought they were having a heart attack but in reality had indigestion. Whoever it was would get all the care Steph was capable of before being handed over to the ED staff. And at least then she wouldn’t feel as though the ground had been cut from under her.
‘Kath’s full of praise for you. Says you were awesome.’ Michael held her gaze. ‘Hold on to that thought. Stop punishing yourself. It’s not your fault your patient was well on the way to going into full labour by the time you picked her up. There wasn’t another thing you could’ve done.’
Ping. Her lips lifted of their own volition. ‘Back at me, huh?’
Her words of wisdom from years ago weren’t so easy to accept when they came from the opposite direction.
‘Only because you were right.’
He hadn’t thought so at the time—had said she didn’t know what she was talking about, didn’t understand his grief over losing that little boy.
‘Being a paramedic seems harder because the buck stops with us until we get to an emergency department. I never felt alone when I was working in here, or so responsible for someone else.’
So gutted when the situation turned to custard. The odds on one, let alone both those babies surviving were long. A shudder rocked her and she wrapped her arms around herself.
‘Yet even in here you fought tooth and nail for your patients, no matter who else was around.’
His words were a balm, a gentle caress of understanding, and she needed that.
Steph wrestled with the urge to lean in against that expansive chest, tightening her hands into fists, rocking on her toes, flattening her mouth, staying away.
This was Michael—the man she’d worked with, laughed and joked with, shared one intense night with while they’d walked and talked for hours about a wee boy who’d died under his care. A night that had ended in making love for hours and which had led to more nights of wonder until—ping!—it was over. Gone in a quiet conversation about responsibilities and life and not getting involved.
He was one of the reasons she’d scarpered out of town and away from the job she’d loved, leaving her family and friends, renting out her house, to head to Queenstown where she knew no one. One of the reasons. Another of those reasons had also raised its sorry head today. Obviously a day for reliving the past. Great—just when she was starting over. Again.
There’d been a lot of starting over during the last two years. Which might explain this sinking sadness pulling at her. As if she was being tested to see if this was what she really wanted.
Yes, she did. As she had every other move. And every time the excitement and certainty had run its course and left her confused and a little more lost. But this time she was back home where she belonged for good. This was where her family was, her best friend, her past: the good and the ugly. It had to work out or she had no idea what else to do with herself. She had to accept once and for all that she would never have her own baby.
‘Ready to go, Steph?’ Kath appeared in her line of sight.
‘More than.’ She almost choked on the words. The need to be busy doing something—anything—was beginning to suffocate her. ‘Good to see you again, Michael.’
She acknowledged the man beside her, ignored the disappointment filling his eyes, and headed to the ambulance bay without a backward glance. The only safe way to go. She’d got that first meeting out of the way—now she could move forward, box ticked. But first she needed to pull herself together and look the part of a happy woman tearing through life like there was no tomorrow.
* * *
Michael stared after Stephanie, absorbing the protectiveness he’d felt for her the moment he’d laid eyes on her, wanting to banish whatever had caused all that hurting going on, knowing he couldn’t unless he was prepared to let her close.
Stephanie Roberts really was back in town. Rumour had warned him—reality frightened him. He’d been prepared as much as possible to see her, had been ready to say Hi, how’s things? and get on with his day. He hadn’t been expecting the slam of recognition from his body at the sight of her, the intense longing for her to be at his side, with him throughout...everything.
