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Six black-suited men were strategically positioned around the car, their eyes scanning in every possible direction. The faint whoop-whoop of helicopter blades could be heard in the distance. A craggy-faced man put his hand on Luke’s arm as his eyes ran up and down the full length of her body, ‘Who’s this?’ The voice was brusque and gruff.
‘Our saviour.’ Luke’s eyes caught hold of Abby’s and she took a deep breath. Five years on and nothing had changed. He could still stop her heart with one look. And it killed her. Because everything had changed.
The nearside door was open and Luke gestured for her to look inside. She bent forward, removing more blonde strands of hair from her mouth, and peered inside.
‘You’re not going to put me on that, are you?’ The words were straight to the point with only the slightest hint of strain in them.
Abby smiled at the pale face ahead of her and ducked inside the car out of the sea winds. ‘Hi, I’m Abby, one of the doctors at Pelican Cove.’ The spacious interior of the car nearly made her laugh out loud. Her entire Mini Cooper could fit inside the rear passenger space. She slid along the cream leather seats and looked at the familiar face next to her.
Jennifer Taylor was the darling of the nation. A feisty, intelligent lawyer, she had refused to stop working when her husband had become President. She campaigned tirelessly for human rights and wasn’t afraid to put her neck on the line when necessary. More importantly, she was also the first First Lady in nearly fifty years to deliver while her husband was in office.
Abby took in her short gasps, her grey jogging suit and trainers and her normally immaculate brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. The press would have a field day if they saw her like this— in all the news reports Abby had never seen this woman with so much as a hair out of place. She could see the worry lines across her brow and the fatigue in her eyes. She leaned over and took her hand. ‘I think the gurney is for the other guy.’ She nodded in the direction of the sweating, grey-haired man whom Luke was trying to assist out of the front passenger seat. ‘Do you want me to get you a wheelchair or do you think you can walk in?’
Jennifer looked up through her heavy eyes with steely reserve. ‘I’m walking.’
‘Okay, let me help you.’ Abby slid back along the leather upholstery and waited for Jennifer to swing her legs from the car. She slid an arm around her waist and guided her inside, surrounded on all sides by the black brigade.
Nancy met her at the entrance door and gestured towards a nearby side room. ‘I’ve set up in here,’ she said, pointing her to the room, which had been hurriedly filled with monitoring equipment.
Luke gave a shout at her back as the gurney went speeding past and into the nearby trauma room. Abby watched thankfully as one of her nurse practitioners gave her a quick nod and followed Luke into the room.
Abby settled Jennifer on the bed and swung her legs up. She pulled out the backrest and watched in amusement as Nancy refused entry to any of the bodyguards. ‘Wait outside, gentlemen. You can’t be in here while the lady is being examined.’ She shut the door with a quick slam and turned to face them, folding her arms across her chest. ‘They won’t get past me.’
Abby switched on the monitors and started hooking them up. ‘So tell me, Mrs Taylor, what’s been happening today?’ She turned her head to Nancy. ‘Can you take a BP reading and get me a foetal heart rate, please?’
Jennifer shifted uncomfortably on the bed. ‘Call me Jennifer, please, I hate formality. I started having back pain last night. Nothing major, just a general feeling of unease and nothing I could do would make me feel any better. Then at around breakfast time today, just after I’d used the bathroom, I felt a little trickle run down my leg.’
‘Your waters have broken?’
‘I think so. Dr Blair was going to check for me but then he started getting chest pain and…’ Her voice tailed off as tears brimmed in her eyes. ‘This isn’t supposed to happen. I’m only meant to be here to rest for a few weeks and then I was going to go back to Washington to have the baby there.’ She lay back against the pillows, resting her hands on her swollen abdomen. ‘Charlie is going to be so worried.’
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 across 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 nitrazine 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 pre-term 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.
