Abby sagged down in a nearby chair. ‘I thought she was going to do this,’ she said quietly.
Luke spun around to face her, his face incredulous. ‘You knew? And you didn’t tell me?’
Abby took a deep breath. ‘She sort of mentioned it. I told her she’d have to discuss it with Dr Fairgreaves.’ She turned to face him. ‘Sorry, David.’
He gave a little smile. ‘Not your fault.’
Luke broke in, ‘This isn’t safe. Not by a long shot. This might not be my specialty but I can’t let this happen. No, we can’t let this happen. What would normally happen in a case like this?’
David Fairgreaves took a deep breath, looking vaguely amused at how wound up Luke was becoming. ‘Actually, you have more responsibility for this than you know. Is it safe to put your patient on a plane right now? Or subject him to a long road transfer?’
‘What? Dr Blair? Of course not. He’s had a significant MI, with angioplasty and stent insertion. He’ll need to stay here for a few days. What’s that got to do with the First Lady?’
‘A lot, actually. She has a great deal of trust in Dr Blair. She doesn’t want to leave him.’
‘Even if that puts her baby at risk?’
‘It doesn’t have to.’
Luke looked stunned. ‘What do you mean? Dr Blair is in no fit state to be consulting with the First Lady right now.’
‘To answer your earlier question, we would normally transfer a lady in Jennifer Taylor’s condition to San Francisco’s Children and Maternity Hospital, where they have excellent neonatal facilities. However, from the First Lady’s perspective, if she goes to San Francisco there will be a huge media circus. It’s a big hospital—you couldn’t possibly hope to contain the news that the First Lady was there, particularly when she’s supposed to be in Washington. But here …’ he pointed out the window at the magnificent ocean view ‘…we have a much better chance of containing the story.’ He glanced down at the notes he had made. ‘As the baby is still under thirty-two weeks, I’ve written her up for some steroids and some antibiotics. Nothing out of the ordinary and we’ll monitor her.’ He folded his arms across his chest. ‘The health and well-being of my patient comes first. She’s already under enough stress and I won’t add to it.’ He raised an eyebrow at Luke. ‘And I won’t let you add to it either.’ He turned towards Abby and handed her a blank A4 notebook and pen. ‘Make a list.’
‘Of what?’ Her mind was spinning. But she knew he was right. Dr Fairgreaves had seen past the words and bravado and seen a frightened mom-to-be.
‘Everything you need. And everybody you need. Chances are we’ve got between one and four days to plan for this delivery.’
‘Are you joking?’
‘No. I’m deadly serious.’ He waved his arms. ‘It might not be an ideal situation but we can make this a safe environment for the President’s baby to be born in. All we need is the staff and the equipment. It’s only people and things. Moveable objects. Who is the best neonatologist that you know?’
‘Lincoln Adams at San Fran.’ The name rolled off Abby’s tongue without a moment’s hesitation.
‘Then start your list with him.’
‘But what if he won’t come?’
‘He will.’ They all turned to the voice at the door. James Turner was leaning in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest. ‘Just make the list, Dr Tyler, and leave the logistics to me.’
She glanced towards Luke, who gave her an almost imperceptible nod. James Turner looked like a quiet force to be reckoned with. Silent but deadly.
She gave a little nod. ‘Give me half an hour, Mr Taylor. I need some peace and quiet to make sure I capture everything I need. You’ll get your list.’
He moved sideways to allow her through the doorway and back out into the ER department. She stopped as she glanced around. ‘My ER department is still open?’ Her voice rose in hopefulness towards the end of the sentence.
‘There haven’t been any arrivals for the last hour, so there haven’t been any problems. We’re just about to move the First Lady. Once we’ve done that, there’ll just be some extra security posted around the building. Your ER department can function as normal.’
‘How about I hang out in the ER while you do that list, Abby?’ Luke stood up from his chair and moved over next to her.
‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’
‘No probs.’ His hand brushed along her back as she headed out the door, sending more tingles down her skin that seemed to connect with her lips. This was ridiculous. She was a professional with work to do. Not some love-struck teenager. It was time she got back to the business in hand.
‘And, children?’ Both of them turned to David Fairgreaves’s voice. ‘You looked as if you’d been fighting when you came in earlier.’ He folded his arms across his chest and smirked at them. ‘It’s time to kiss and make up, we’ve got work to do—work we need to do together, as a team.’ And he put his head back down and began to write.
Luke sat at the main desk in the ER. Abby had been gone for nearly an hour and a half. The list was obviously taking longer than she thought. So far he’d stitched a finger, pulled a bead out of some kid’s nose and dealt with some mild chest pain.
All of a sudden he had a whole new respect for the work Abby did. Children didn’t co-operate like adults. They made a fuss, or had a tantrum, and generally didn’t do a thing they were told. She had chosen this as her speciality?
He plastered a smile on his face as he heard a thump on the desk. Yes, there she was. The redheaded nurse that had been whispering and pointing at him for the last hour. The last thing that he needed right now.
‘So you’re Dr Storm?’ She smiled as she twiddled a strand of her long red hair.
‘That’s right.’ He wasn’t going to do anything to encourage her.
‘I’m Viv, one of the RNs.’ She crossed her legs in front of him, clearly wanting to accentuate the long shapely limbs.
‘Pleased to meet you, Viv.’
Thump. ‘And I’m Carol.’ A brunette slid along the desk next to Viv. Hadn’t these staff ever heard of sitting on chairs? Great. Two for the price of one.
‘So how do you know Dr Tyler?’ asked Carol curiously.
‘We were med students together in Washington.’
Carol’s brow wrinkled. ‘But Abby trained in San Francisco.’
He smiled. ‘I know that. She started her training with me and transferred a little later.’
Viv moved in for the kill. ‘So you won’t know anyone else here, then?’
‘No, no, I don’t.’
‘So where will you be staying tonight?’
The words were like a bolt out of the blue. Luke hadn’t even given it a moment’s thought. Where was he going to stay tonight? He glanced around, looking for James Turner—maybe he’d already made plans for his staff and included Luke in them?
‘I’m not sure yet. But I think that something will already have been arranged.’ Please let something have been arranged.
‘If you don’t have any plans for tonight, you could come to the hospital barbeque.’
‘What?’
Luke was feeling momentarily distracted. Viv had just leaned forward and was revealing a certain amount of cleavage and he was feeling distinctly uncomfortable. It wasn’t the first time a woman had been obvious around him. But here he was definitely out of his comfort zone. He couldn’t walk away and talk to another colleague. He couldn’t make an excuse and go and see to one of his many patients—he’d just checked on Dr Blair and he was sleeping. He didn’t even have an office to go and retreat to. He was feeling like a fly caught in a spider’s web. A red-haired spider’s web.
‘Will Abby be going to the barbeque?’ It seemed like the safest option.
Viv and Carol exchanged glances and shrugged their shoulders. Carol stretched out her arms and glanced over his shoulder, clearly getting bored with uninteresting Luke. ‘Abby doesn’t usually go anywhere without Reuben,’ she said, before tur
ning on her heel and moving towards the reception doors as a car pulled up outside. ‘Come on, Viv, let’s see what’s arrived.’
Viv shot a little smile at Luke before sliding off the desk and heading to the door.
But Luke had stopped paying attention. He was oblivious. Who was Reuben? He leaned his elbows on the desk and put his head in his hands. It had been one hell of a day. He glanced at his watch—it wasn’t even dinnertime yet. It had been eight a.m. when he’d got the call about Dr Blair. He had already been up since six, preparing to go and present a paper at a conference. A paper that was now lying in a crumpled heap in his bag. Seconds after he’d got the call one of the sleek black secret-service cars had pulled up, whisking him away to a helicopter pad bringing him to Pelican Cove and Abby …
Was she living with someone? Engaged? Married? Or maybe even just a boyfriend? After all, why would a girl who looked as good as Abby be single? He slapped himself on the forehead. She’d asked him if he was married when they’d been in the changing room together. After that kiss. But he hadn’t asked her. He hadn’t asked her anything. He’d just assumed.
A chill slipped down his spine. Abby had always wanted a family. It was the reason they were no longer together. She loved kids, she’d wanted to work with them and have a whole brood of them herself. A requirement that Luke couldn’t meet. He hadn’t even been able to bring himself to contemplate thoughts of a family. In the end he’d told Abby he just wanted to focus on his career. And kids didn’t fit into that.
He knew he’d broken her heart. She’d asked him to reconsider, told him that somehow they could have beautiful children together, and that had broken his heart even more. Because he didn’t think he’d ever be ready for that. He’d already filled the role of a parent to his brother Ryan—and failed miserably. He just wasn’t cut out for parenthood. Not after what had happened to Ryan. Not after the responsibilities he’d had to shoulder when Ryan had got sick and his parents had continued to spend their time on ‘mercy missions’ overseas or in other parts of the country. When the reality was, they should have been there, acting like parents to their two sons.
And, as much as Abby loved him, she wouldn’t give up her dream of having a family. There had been no tears, no hysteria—that wasn’t Abby’s style. She’d just walked away, literally, into the sunset on top of that Washington hill. When he’d gone back to their apartment a few hours later, she was gone. And the empty drawers and wardrobe had haunted him for weeks.
Suppose Abby had her family now? And the husband to match? Was that who Reuben was, her husband? Although her body seemed unchanged, she could still have a whole brood of children at home. The thought of Abby, with her husband and children, living in her white-picket-fenced house, made his blood run cold. He closed his eyes and tried to pull the memory from his dimly lit mind. Was there a ring on her finger? When they’d been in the changing room and she’d traced her finger along his scar, had there been a ring on that hand? Try as he might, he couldn’t remember. And it was killing him.
‘Dr Storm?’
Luke started to attention, pulling his head out of his hands. James Turner was standing over him in that slightly ominous way that he did so well.
‘Oh, Mr Turner, I was just going to ask you about where we were going to stay tonight.’
It was the first time Luke had seen anything resembling an expression on the man’s face. A slight quirk of the mouth. ‘My men will stay here, Dr Storm. We are the First Lady’s security detail. We have to be available around the clock. You … can stay anywhere you like.’
Great. James Turner hadn’t included him in the plans. He heard voices in the nearby corridor and turned to see Abby and Dr Fairgreaves obviously finalising a few things on the ‘list’.
‘Abby?’
She gave a final nod to David Fairgreaves and walked over towards them, holding out the list to James Turner. ‘Everything and everybody I need. If you get them here, by the grace of God, we can deliver this baby safely.’ She handed the list over and James Turner disappeared silently down the corridor, talking into his lapel pin and holding his earpiece. ‘What’s up, Luke?’
And there she was. Gone was the flustered, hot-under-the-collar woman from the changing room. Gone was the little sparks of jealousy he thought he’d seen in the canteen. This was his Abby. The woman he’d always known and admired. Calm, controlled Abby Tyler. He’d seen her stop at the scene of an accident and treat multiple victims, with no equipment whatsoever, speedily and competently. While he’d been stuck hanging onto the back end of car to stop it catapulting off the edge of a cliff. She’d disappeared from his side one day in the supermarket aisle and he’d found her moments later, resuscitating a man who’d had a cardiac arrest at the checkout. No panic, no stress, she’d just looked at him calmly and asked, ‘Do you want to do the chest compressions or the mouth-to-mouth?’
What he’d never seen was how she’d been in the changing room.
She’d been angry with him. Or had it been frustration? It had been the first time they’d kissed in five years and he’d acted on instinct. From the first time he’d seen her that morning he’d felt as if someone had punched him square in the solar plexus. Abby Tyler with her feet up on the desk and her eyes closed, enjoying a moment of calm. He’d been stuck in his worst nightmare and she’d been the calmest woman on the planet.
Jennifer Taylor had been impressed. She’d called Luke into her room earlier to ask him what he knew about her. She was one smart lady and it was obvious she’d picked up on the undercurrents between them. She’d poked and prodded until Luke had finally confessed they’d once been an item.
‘Silly boy,’ she’d said as she’d lain back against her pillows with a smug look on her face.
‘What do you mean?’
‘She’s gorgeous. And she’s obviously a good influence on you. You’ve stopped flapping, you’re calm. She seems like a beautiful, intelligent woman and you’ve been a fool to let her slip through your fingers. What age are you? Twenty-nine? Thirty?’
He’d nodded. ‘I’m thirty.’
‘No one should live their life alone, Luke. I was the highest flyer of them all, but meeting Charlie was the best thing that ever happened to me. You need someone to share things with, the good and the bad, someone who’s always in your corner no matter what. A career is a career, but a life? Now, that’s worth living.’
Luke had been momentarily stunned by the frankness of her words. But then he’d asked himself why. Jennifer Taylor was known as a woman who pulled no punches. That’s why she was so highly regarded. The story of how she and Charles Taylor had met had been widely reported in the past. She absorbed in her work; he in his politics. And when they’d met—kaboom! It had been a true partnership. She’d blossomed into a beautiful, fiercesome human-rights lawyer and he into a leader among men. So why was he surprised? And why was he feeling a little disappointed that Miss Cool and Controlled was back? He’d liked the new version of Abby. He’d liked the new shouting, passionate, even jealous version of Abby. The added spark made her even more sexy than normal.
Something hit him on the side of his head. He bent to pick it up. The most sorry excuse of a paper airplane he’d ever seen. He smiled and looked up. Abby was leaning over the desk towards him.
‘What are you so deep in thought about?’
‘Why do you want to know?’
‘Because I remember that look and it usually means trouble.’ She walked around the side of the desk and sat down next to him. ‘I think James Turner’s going to get me everything on that list,’ she whispered.
He bent towards her ear. ‘I think he is too.’ Her face was only inches from his.
‘He’s a little scary, isn’t he?’
Luke nodded and smiled. He didn’t want to move. If he leaned forward just the tiniest bit he could kiss her on the nose. His eyes flickered around him as he noticed a number of pairs of eyes on them. Somehow, when he was with Abby, it seemed as if it was just the two of them.
She reached over and touched his hand. ‘Thanks for looking after my patients while I did the list, Luke. It must have been a bit strange, being an ER doc.’
Luke looked at her hand as he felt the warmth travel upwards, causing the hairs on his arm to stand on end. Relief, no ring. He allowed himself to enjoy it as the warmth spread across his chest. ‘Mmm, Abby, can I ask you something?’
‘Sure.’ She sat back in her chair, breaking the spell between them and making him feel as if somewhere a barrier had just came crashing down between them. His eyes hadn’t left her and he watched as she tucked a loose tendril of hair behind her ear.
‘Can you recommend a good guest house to me?’
‘A guest house? What for?’
He rolled his eyes. ‘It seems that James Turner didn’t include me in the accomodation arrangements when organising where everyone would stay. So I need to find a guest house close by. Or do you have on-call rooms?’
She smiled sympathetically. ‘We do, but unfortunately they’ve been commandeered by the Black Brigade.’
‘Aah, so that’s where they’re staying.’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘How on earth are they all going to fit?’
‘Apparently they’re going to sleep in shifts.’
‘Ugh.’ he shuddered. ‘I don’t even want to think about that.’
‘You can stay with me.’ The words were out before she’d even had time to process the thought, or the practicalities. But it was just what Abby would always do—help out a friend in trouble. And that’s what she was doing, wasn’t she?
‘What? No, Abby. I can’t expect you to do that.’
But she’d stood up and was wiping her hands on her scrubs. ‘Of course you can. We’re old friends, aren’t we? And you’ve been landed here in the middle of … unusual circumstances. The least I can do is help you out.’
‘That’s really nice of you, Abby. But won’t it be a little awkward?’
This was it. This was when she told him she was married with ten kids. She hesitated, just for a tiny second, but he saw it and felt as if he’d been kicked in the guts.
The Boy Who Made Them Love Again Page 5