Once she’d determined the baby’s position she placed her stethoscope on the abdomen at the point where she should be able to hear a heartbeat. Her chest felt tight. She could feel Hasana’s anxious eyes burning a hole into the side of her head.
“Has Hasana got any other children? Does she have any medical conditions?” The questions were rudimentary. They weren’t going to change the outcome. But Violet felt she had to go through all the steps methodically.
Urbi shook her head. “This is her first. She has no medical conditions. There have been no problems during the pregnancy.”
Something twisted in Violet’s gut. It could be her they were talking about. No past history. No previous births or complications. A textbook pregnancy. No signs or cause for alarm.
She took the stethoscope from her ears and switched to the Pinard. She waited as Hasana was struck by another contraction and once it subsided she placed the Pinard on Hasana’s abdomen in the hope something might have changed.
She was met with deathly silence.
Her eyes met Urbi’s. “What have you told her? Does she understand English?”
Urbi shook her head. “Only a little. I will translate for you, Dr. Violet. I have already told her that I couldn’t hear the baby’s heartbeat. That was when I sent the family away. She knows I was just asking you to check again—to confirm what I suspected.”
Violet nodded. Her brain was having flashbacks. Her own delivery room couldn’t have been more different from this birthing room in Africa. Hers had been white, bright and modern with all the technology in the world. That hadn’t made a bit of difference to her baby.
The gel being squirted on her stomach. The Doppler unable to find a heartbeat. The change of position. The blank looks on the faces of the delivery room staff—aware that she was a physician and would know exactly what they were doing.
Finally, her obstetrician speaking to her in low, gentle words. The progression of labor. The pain and frustration of knowing that there wouldn’t be a euphoric and happy moment at the end. Her mind filling with the preparations she’d made at home. A bassinet, a stroller, a car seat and drawer after drawer of tiny little clothes.
The bright, colorful letters spelling out the name she’d chosen for her daughter on the nursery door. How could she go back home to all that without her daughter?
She lifted her eyes to meet the dark eyes of Hasana. She had a job to do here. And as much as it pained her, because she understood, she realized she might be the best person to do this job.
She took a deep breath and reached out for Hasana’s free hand. She shook her head and spoke slowly. “I’m so sorry, Hasana, but I can’t find a heartbeat for your child. Your baby isn’t moving. I think your baby is going to be born asleep.”
She hated the word stillbirth.
She couldn’t explain why. It just sounded so cold. So distant.
For some reason, to her, a baby being born asleep sounded easier. Even though she knew the reality was that nothing could make it easier. She wasn’t going to keep talking. She wasn’t going to bombard Hasana with anything else.
She wasn’t going to tell her she couldn’t give her a reason why this had happened to her baby. She wasn’t going to tell her there was no reason that she couldn’t have a healthy child in the future.
Because right now this was all about this baby. Hasana still had at least an hour of labor to go through.
A first labor. A long labor. And what should have been labor of love had turned into a labor of sorrow. And in that moment Violet knew. She wasn’t going to go anywhere. She was going to stay right here and hold Hasana’s hand. It was one thing she was absolutely sure of.
Urbi translated her words. Another labor pain gripped Hasana’s body, the tightening of her abdomen apparent. But her sobs were reaching far and beyond the labor pain. The noises she was making sounded like her very heart had been ripped out of her body. Her friend kept her arm wrapped around Hasana’s shoulders, holding her close and letting her sob. Silent tears dripped down her cheeks as she tried to be strong for her friend.
Violet put her hand on top of Urbi’s. “If it’s all right with you, I’ll stay. I’ve got some experience in this. I’ll help you.”
Urbi nodded her head. “Thank you, Dr. Violet.” Her dark eyes watched her carefully. “Most people want to leave the birthing room when they know there isn’t going to be a joyous celebration at the other end.”
Violet could feel the tears pooling in her eyes. She had to stay strong. She had to stay professional. It was the best way she could support Hasana. “Every baby’s birth should be celebrated, Urbi, no matter what the outcome.”
Urbi’s head tilted to one side, her years of experience very evident. It was almost as if she was reading Violet like an open book. Instantly understanding all the secrets she’d kept hidden away for the past three years. She wrapped her hand tightly around Violet’s and gave it a little squeeze. “You are a good woman, Dr. Violet. May the Lord bless you.”
There was a loud noise outside. Indistinguishable.
Urbi started. She spoke rapidly to Hasana then turned to Violet. “Let me go and check what that was.”
She disappeared in a sweep of skirts, the dust clouding around her. Violet peeked out of the door in curiosity. Had a car backfired?
She could see people coming out of the houses surrounding them, all walking in the direction of the noise. Men were shouting at their families to stay inside. Urbi was nowhere in sight.
A horrible sensation started to sweep over her, a real prickling of unease.
She ducked her head back inside, holding Hasana’s hand through another contraction. She pulled a pair of gloves from her bag and signaled to Hasana. “Can I check?”
The language barrier appeared to have disappeared. She knew exactly what Violet wanted to do. Violet did an internal examination and found Hasana was fully dilated. Any time now the baby’s head would start crowning.
She pulled her hand back just as her brain realized what the noise outside was. Hasana let out a little shriek.
Gunfire. That was definitely gunfire.
Panic. She instantly felt sick. Adrenaline started coursing through her veins. The fight-or-flight response had never been so obvious.
In the distance she could hear voices shouting, followed by gunfire. What on earth were they in the middle of?
Hasana’s female companion darted outside. Where was she going? Was she leaving them?
Violet tried to remain focused. She had to make a decision in the next few seconds. Hasana might be able to move in the next few minutes, but once she started crowning it would be virtually impossible.
She had no information to go on. How on earth could she assess their safety, their risk? And where on earth would they go?
Her heart thudded in her chest. For the first time in two weeks she wished Evan was by her side. She didn’t feel strong. She didn’t feel ready to deal with anything like this.
The voices were louder now. Fear started to grip her chest. There had been reports about attempted kidnappings, bomb threats and health staff being slain.
All their intelligence had told them it was in the next state. There had been nothing to indicate any trouble at all near here.
But could she wait and take that chance?
What would Evan do?
Hasana’s friend reappeared. She tugged at Violet’s arm. “Go. Now. They are looking for you.”
It was like all her worst fears realized. Her head went from one woman in the throes of labor to the other tugging her arm and pleading with her to leave.
“What about the rest of the team?” She might be the only doctor, but there had been four other community workers with her today. Where would they go?
Now she knew.
Now she understood what it
felt like to have responsibility for the health and wellbeing of team members. Who to leave at risk—the staff or the patients? How on earth could someone make a decision like that?
“The villagers will hide them.” It made sense. The community workers were all from surrounding areas and all had dark skin and wore traditional dress. As long as their equipment was hidden they could easily blend in. Her blond hair and pale skin would make her stand out like a sore thumb. It would put everyone at risk.
Hasana managed to stand up and gripped her other arm. “I need you. Please.” For a woman who couldn’t speak or understand much English, her words were crystal clear.
She’d never felt so conflicted. Evan had given them all clear directions if they encountered any hostility. Don’t hesitate. Get out.
But her Hippocratic oath was bouncing around in her head. She had a duty of care to Hasana. She had to help her.
And Evan wasn’t here. No matter how much she wanted him to be.
She darted around the room, picking up the few things she thought she might need. Bags, gloves, the polio supplies to hide and a few blankets. Her brain was frantically trying to formulate a plan. The truck. Evan had said always to head toward the truck. It was their guarantee of getting out. Their safe passage back to camp.
But the noises sounded as if they were coming from that direction—the compound where they had left the truck.
Then she heard it. A loud, screaming woman’s voice. Urbi. And straight away she knew why. She was making as much noise as she could. Obviously to try and warn Violet to get out.
Her voice was up against another, a male voice shouting back. Their dialogue was a mixture of English and Hausa. “The doctor left this morning,” Urbi was shrieking.
Violet headed for the door, dropping the things that she held haphazardly in her arms. “Leave them,” Hasana’s friend hissed as she scrambled about the floor, grabbing what she could.
Her bag. Her satellite phone. But she had no time. The voices were only a few houses away.
Violet slipped her arm around Hasana’s waist, ducking her head, and they made their way as quickly as they could between the houses. She had no idea where she was going. All she knew was that she couldn’t head toward the truck.
A figure stepped out in front of them, causing her to gasp in alarm.
The dark-skinned Fulani man in traditional dress silently pointed his finger in one direction. She’d vaccinated his children earlier.
She nodded in acknowledgment and hurried in the direction he pointed. It only took a few seconds to realize he was sending them out of the village and into the nearby hardwood forest. Plenty of cover for both of them.
They stopped for a few minutes as Hasana was gripped by another labor pain. She held on to a nearby tree trunk until she’d breathed her way through it. The voices were coming nearer. Closing in on them.
It was the most terrified Violet had ever been. She didn’t know if she was more scared for Hasana or for herself. What would they do to Hasana if they caught her with the doctor? Would it actually be safer to leave Hasana behind?
No.
Hasana needed her right now. And she couldn’t imagine abandoning her—not even for a second.
They stumbled through the forest, moving away from the thinner trees on the outskirts and into the darker depths. She felt herself drop something again as she held on tightly to Hasana, helping support her, but didn’t dare look back to see what it was. They pressed on into the forest.
Violet kept glancing over her shoulder, praying that no one had noticed them and no one was following. She couldn’t hear the voices anymore or the gunfire. That had to be a good sign.
She urged Hasana on. What she really wanted right now was her satellite phone. If she’d had it she could have phoned Evan and he could have arranged to get them out of here and get some support for Hasana.
In her head she could see it lying on the floor of the birthing room. Going back for it might have cost them their lives. No phone was worth that.
Hasana crouched down, her labor obviously progressing. They were near a mound of dark moss. Violet spread a blanket across it and urged Hasana to sit down. She pulled some gloves from her pocket and checked her again.
But she didn’t need to. Hasana’s baby was almost crowning.
Violet raised her eyes skyward and started some silent prayers. Please don’t let them be found—they couldn’t move now.
Please don’t let there be any birth complications. It was too late to save the baby. But Hasana’s life could still be at stake here. Hemorrhage, abruption, there could be whole host of delivery complications that could risk Hasana’s life. And she was hardly equipped to deal with them.
She gestured at Hasana, signaling when to push and when to relax. Hasana’s sobs grew louder. She didn’t have her friend’s hand to hold any more. She didn’t have anyone other than Violet to support her. And they both knew what would happen next.
* * *
Evan was staring at the calendar, counting the number of days until they could head back to Atlanta.
What on earth would he say to the director once he got there? The polio program was likely to be a success. But his teamwork? His professionalism? His relationship with Violet?
Strike one. Strike two. Strike Three. Out.
It didn’t bear thinking about.
Violet had barely spoken to him for the past two weeks.
And he couldn’t blame her.
It didn’t matter that her last words had been about forgiving himself. She couldn’t really have meant that. Not after what he’d told her.
It was no wonder she didn’t want to be around him. He didn’t want to be around him either.
He knew that she’d spoken to her brother a few times in the past two weeks. Had she told Sawyer what had happened between them? Would her brother be waiting at Atlanta airport with a baseball bat? That was all he needed.
He’d told Violet that they had unresolved issues. And he was right. They did.
Violet had told him he needed to forgive himself. And he was sorting all that out in his head—truly, he was.
But in order to fully be at peace with himself, the one thing he was absolutely sure about was that he was going to have to speak to Sawyer.
He didn’t want to do it over the phone. He could have used the opportunity in the past few weeks when Sawyer had phoned to speak to Violet. But this was too big for Evan. Too important. He needed to do it face-to-face.
The way he should have done six years earlier, before Matt Sawyer had disappeared.
And he had to take whatever Sawyer dished out because Violet was right about one thing. He couldn’t live like this forever.
The phone next to him started ringing. He reached over and grabbed it. “Evan Hunter.”
It was a hysterical babble. Not a single word made sense. It took him a few seconds for his brain to recognize the voice. “Jaja? Jaja, is that you?”
He stood up, the tone of his voice causing everyone around the room to stop dead.
“What is it, Jaja? Slow down, I can’t make you out.”
He gestured to one of the other team members. “Pull up the GPS signal.”
He had six separate teams in different areas today, all working on the polio program. Where was Jaja working?
“What do you mean, gunfire? Who was firing? Where is the staff? Is any of the staff at risk? Are you safe?”
He was firing questions at Jaja and he knew he should take a deep breath and keep calm. The connection was terrible. He could hardly make out a single word. All he could gather was that there had been trouble in the village, shooting, and Jaja had barely made it to the truck in time to get out.
He started looking frantically at the papers on his desk, all describing the latest events in the ne
ighboring state. There had been nothing about Natumba state. Nothing at all. He’d been advised to continue working. Had he just put his staff at risk? Had he sent them to an area where they could have been kidnapped? Or worse?
The bounty on a healthcare worker’s head was huge.
The thought made him feel physically sick.
His brain was in overdrive. “What village, Jaja? Say it again. What village?”
He shouted the name across the room to the worker on the GPS system. “Who do we have there?”
Silence. The staff were waiting. Waiting to hear who was at risk.
The tension was almost palpable. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath.
The man sitting at the screen pulled up a table, covering the intensive GPS tracking system they used. His face paled. He rattled off the names—four community workers, Jaja among them. Then he hesitated and turned to face Evan. “And Violet.” His voice was almost a whisper. Everyone knew about their relationship.
Evan could hear a roaring in his ears. His worst dream had just been realized. For a second time stood still. He felt as if he were in one of those slow-motion movie scenes. This couldn’t be happening.
His legs moved automatically over to the screen. “Do you have the signals?” Beside him a hand picked up the phone, reporting back to headquarters, while another voice started shouting about pulling a team together.
The screen operator nodded, focusing the map on the village. From an aerial view there were five signals. One was moving away rapidly—Jaja.
Three others were unmoving, one slightly outside the village limits.
One of the local staff moved up next to his elbow. “The workers will be hiding. The villagers will have taken them somewhere. Somewhere they won’t be recognized.”
“Where’s this? Where is this area?”
Evan’s finger was stabbing at the screen. This whole exercise was futile. Even though the workers all wore the GPS trackers, it only showed their positions. They didn’t show a heartbeat. Didn’t tell him if they were dead or alive. Didn’t tell him if they were injured. Didn’t tell him if they were safe or in danger.
THE MAVERICK DOCTOR AND MISS PRIM/ABOUT THAT NIGHT... Page 28