Safe in His Hands

by Amy Ruttan

  “I was, too, for a moment,” she answered absently.

  “I’ll go and collect my bag,” Quinn said, walking back toward the plane, where people in the hangar were unloading his suitcase and some supplies Charlotte had brought up. So like him to be haughty.

  It’s Quinn.

  Even though she knew she shouldn’t follow him, Charlotte hurried after him.

  “Are you still tired from the trip?” she asked.

  “A bit,” Quinn answered. “Don’t you and George have to deal with the plane?”

  “George can handle it. He’ll yell if I’m needed.”

  “He seems like a nice fellow, I hope he makes you happy.”

  Charlotte did a double take. Quinn thought she was with George and, despite the fact they’d once been intimate, was wishing her happiness. So unlike the selfish man he’d been when he was younger.

  “Quinn, George is like a brother to me.” Again, why was she telling him that? She should’ve let him think George was her lover, and then she shuddered at the thought. She’d babysat George at one time and he’d been a terror. “Besides, George is too weird, too into his Westerns. I think that if given the chance, he’d trade in his paramedic bag for a saddle and six-shooter.” She said the last part loudly.

  “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Clint Eastwood is da man!” George called back.

  A look of pleasure flashed momentarily across his face. “Well, that makes for a good partnership between physician and paramedic.”

  “Doc Charley!” The frantic call made both Charlotte and Quinn spin around. Charlotte saw Lorna, the village midwife, come running into the hangar.

  Charlotte didn’t need to be told. Her instinct kicked in and she grabbed her medical bag from the top of the pile of supplies. “What’s happened? Is it Mentlana?”

  Lorna nodded. “She started bleeding, and I don’t know if it’s from the fetus, the placenta or something else.”

  Oh, God, no.

  Charlotte remembered the way she herself had almost bled to death when she’d lost her baby. Sweat broke out across her brow. Charlotte glanced at Quinn, who was standing close to her. His lips were pressed together in a firm line and he looked a little pale as he nodded his understanding, obviously ready to follow her lead.

  “Where is she?” Charlotte asked.

  “The clinic.” Lorna was wringing her hands nervously.

  “Thanks, Lorna.” Charlotte started running, praying she wasn’t too late.

  * * *

  “Is everything okay, Charley?” Mentlana’s voice was anxious as Charlotte peeled off the rubber gloves and placed them in the toxic medical waste receptacle.

  “Your cervix is irritated, that’s all.” Charlotte had been relieved on her arrival to see the blood loss was minimal, but enough to worry Lorna. Given all the things wrong with Mentlana and her high-risk pregnancy, Lorna had reacted quickly and done the right thing.

  “Well, yours would be irritated, too, if you were carrying around an elephant.”

  Charlotte chuckled. “I’m going to have Dr. Devlyn, the specialist from Toronto, perform an ultrasound to make sure there’s nothing wrong with the placenta or the baby. But the heartbeat is strong, and from the internal, the placenta is still in place. If it had been an abruption there would’ve been a lot more blood.”

  And death. Charlotte kept that thought to herself. There was no sense in worrying the pregnant woman over nothing.

  Mentlana visibly relaxed as she took her feet out of the stirrups and rearranged the sheet over her lower half. Charlotte ran her hands under the tap and scrubbed them thoroughly.

  “Do you want me to get Genen? He’s probably climbing the walls.”

  “Let him wait for a moment. I want to talk to you.”

  Confused, Charlotte pulled her wheeled stool over to her friend’s side nonetheless. Mentlana was leaning up on one elbow, a serious look on her face.

  Charlotte knew that look all too well. It meant business.

  “What’s your question?”

  “This doctor from Toronto, he’s the one, isn’t he?” Mentlana asked.

  Charlotte’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”

  Mentlana’s eyes narrowed, glinting as black as coal as she fixed Charlotte with the serious gaze that made Genen and George almost wet their pants. “Don’t lie to me, Charley. This is the guy, right? He’s the guy who broke your heart and left after you lost the baby. The one you wouldn’t bring home to meet us. The one who, if I wasn’t pregnant and in need of him, I’d give a stern kick to the crotch.”

  Charlotte stood. Letting out an exasperated sigh, she scrubbed her hand over her face. “Yes. Dr. Devlyn is the one.”

  Mentlana reached out and grabbed her hand. “I know how hard it is for you to trust him, to bring him here, and I know you’re doing it for me and the baby. Thank you.”

  A sob caught in Charlotte’s throat but she controlled it. She forced a wobbly smile and smoothed Mentlana’s jet-black hair from her forehead. “I would do anything for you, even face the devil himself—or Devlyn, in this case.”

  “Witty.” Lana chuckled. “Now I’m really interested in meeting him.”

  Charlotte rolled her eyes and padded towards the door. “Well, he does have the bedside manner of a bull in a china shop, most days. Stay tight. I’ll bring him in to see you in a moment.”

  “Tight, right.” Mentlana snorted as Charlotte shut the door to the exam room. Just as she’d thought, Genen was pacing, and the rest of the family was crowded into the small reception area of her clinic. Genen almost rushed her as she approached.

  Charlotte held up her hands. “It’s nothing, just an irritated cervix. Mother and baby are fine, but I’ll have the specialist do an ultrasound to be absolutely certain.”

  Relief washed over Genen’s face. “Can I see her now, Charley?”

  “Sure. But just Genen,” she said, as the entire Atavik and Tikivik clan seemed to rise. Scanning the clinic area, she couldn’t see Quinn anywhere. Biting her bottom lip, she headed over to George.

  “Where’s Dr. Devlyn?”

  “In your office. I thought he’d be most comfortable there.”

  The blood drained from Charlotte’s face. “My office?” Oh, God. She hadn’t had a chance to clear away her personal items, including the cherished, faded old sonogram. The ultrasound he hadn’t even bothered to attend. The same sonogram he’d just grunted at when she’d shown it to him.

  “Don’t you want to see? It’s amazing!”

  “It’s not like you haven’t seen a sonogram before.”

  “I know. But, Quinn, it’s our baby.”

  He shrugged. “I have to go, Charlotte. I’m late for my rounds already.”

  He hadn’t wanted to see it then and even though it was childish, she didn’t want to share it with him now. Not after five years. He didn’t deserve to see it or share in any part of her grief.

  CHAPTER THREE

  TRYING NOT TO panic, she thanked George and headed towards her office. She raised her hand to knock and then thought better of it. Why should she knock? It was her office and he was the visitor. She walked in. Quinn wasn’t behind her desk, but was staring out the window at the snow swirling over the inlet. He turned when she entered, his face unreadable.

  “Is Ms. Tikivik stable?” he asked.

  “Yes. It was an irritation of the cervix, but I’d like you to do an ultrasound and check the status of the fetus yourself.”

  “I will.” He glanced back out the window. “I have to say I’ve never seen so many houses tied down to cables and supported on metal beams. It’s like they’re a bunch of beach houses or something.”

  Charlotte couldn’t help but smile. “The houses are raised because of permafrost. There are no basements in Cape
Recluse. The village also has a lot of high winds. We may seem sheltered, with mountains surrounding us, but it’s really very windy. We have to tie everything down.”

  Quinn’s eyebrows arched. “I guess. With no trees to form a windbreak.”

  “Yeah, you could say that.”

  “It’s quite interesting—the landscape, that is.”

  Now it was Charlotte’s turn to be impressed. He’d never been overly interested in anything else before, beyond the next surgery.

  Well, he’d been interested in her until she’d got pregnant and decided to become a family physician.

  “Yes. It is an interesting vista,” she agreed.

  Quinn shivered and then nodded. “This is some community. They all seem to care for one another, like family.” He shook his head. “It’s like the Brady Bunch up here or something.”

  “That’s because they genuinely do care. It’s a small place and everyone knows everybody. There are no secrets.”

  That caught his attention and he shot her a questioning look. “Really? No secrets?”

  “Nope. Not a single one.” Suddenly she had a bad case of butterflies. She was nervous. Perhaps it was the fact they were in an enclosed room, alone. After her reaction to him earlier, the last place she wanted to be was in a private office with him.

  He strode over to her, his eyes soft, with a twinkle of devilment still dancing there. As he reached out and brushed an errant curl from her face, a zip of delight traveled down her spine. His knuckles brushed her cheek, causing her body to waken. One simple touch from him and her body responded as if it had been in a slumber for the last five years.

  Maybe it had. No other man had been able to arouse her by a simple touch before. It angered her that Quinn was the only one who could.

  “Don’t,” she whispered, her voice catching in her throat.

  “What?”

  “Touch me with familiarity.”

  Quinn moved his hand. “I’m sorry, Charlotte. It’s force of habit, even after all this time.”

  Tears stung her eyes and she cleared her throat before taking a step back. “You shouldn’t keep the Tikiviks waiting.”

  “Do you have some scrubs for me?”

  “Of course. See Rosie at Reception and she’ll get you fitted.” Charlotte tucked her hair behind her ear as he stared at her, the tension in the room almost palpable. Why wasn’t he leaving? “Is there anything else?”

  Quinn glanced away. “No. I’ll go and see Rosie now.”

  Quinn walked past her and Charlotte watched him go, unease and apprehension twisting her stomach. When he left the room she snatched the picture frame off her desk and stared at the sonogram, thinking about the baby she’d lost. He or she would’ve been five years old, now, and she couldn’t help but wonder if the baby would’ve had the same sandy-brown hair and deep brown eyes as Quinn. Perhaps their baby would’ve favored her, with red curls and emerald eyes, or been a mixture of them both.

  Closing her eyes, she pictured a rambunctious boy, like she always did when she thought about her lost baby. He’d have had rosy cheeks, sandy-brown hair and green eyes. She felt the sting of tears and brushed them away quickly.

  Why was she letting herself feel this way again?

  Why was she letting Quinn Devlyn in again?

  Because I never let him go.

  Sighing, she opened her filing cabinet and pushed the picture to the back before locking the drawer. She slipped the key into her pocket. It was really a moot point, now. There was no baby of theirs, not now and not ever.

  * * *

  Quinn peeled off the clothes he’d been wearing for the last several hours. He was bone weary and absolutely freezing, but this was the moment where he shone, being a surgical god.

  His hand trembled slightly and he gripped it.

  Just tired, that was all.

  Besides, this was nothing big. Just an ultrasound and a consult. If this tremor continued he’d remove himself from the case. The patient’s life and that of the baby were more important than proving to the world he was still a viable surgeon.

  You can do this.

  Quinn pulled on the scrubs. As he splashed some water on his face, his mind wandered to the sonogram he’d spied on Charlotte’s desk.

  Their baby.

  The one they’d lost. It had been the scariest moment of his life. Not even the accident that had damaged his hand had been as terrifying as the moment when they’d lost their baby. Charlotte had bled badly after she’d miscarried. He’d found her collapsed on the floor of their apartment.

  “Hold on, honey. Hold on, Charlotte.” He reached down and stroked her pale face.

  Quinn shuddered, sending the horrific nightmare back to where it had come from. That moment had been far worse than the accident he’d endured alone.

  Seeing the sonogram on her desk, in a frame, had only reminded him of the pain when they’d parted. At the time, he hadn’t been too keen on the idea of a baby in their lives. How could he be a good, loving father when he had such a role model as his own cold, detached father? A baby was not part of his plans. However, it had hurt him when she’d lost it, to see her in pain. To watch her grieve and know there was nothing he could do about it. It had made him feel powerless.

  And he didn’t like feeling powerless. Not in the least.

  There were times in the neonatal unit, when dealing with babies born prematurely, that his mind wandered to what might’ve been.

  But that was in the past. Their baby hadn’t survived. So he’d told himself it wasn’t meant to be, and had instead focused on becoming one of the best surgeons in his field, burying his sadness over the loss in his work.

  Now he was at the top of his game.

  And lonely as hell.

  Another reason why he hated these godforsaken outposts of the North. He didn’t get Charlotte’s fascination with staying up here.

  Even though her life had been spared, the North had still cost him Charlotte.

  She had refused to leave and go with him to New York. Had refused to talk to him or even look at him. All she’d done was hand back the ring, along with everything else he’d given her, because in her note she’d stated she wanted no reminders of him.

  Why did she still keep the sonogram?

  Of course, he had no right to pry. The baby was gone.

  He jammed the clothes he’d taken off into a suitcase, stuffing the unwanted emotions to the dark recesses of his mind, as well. He didn’t have time to let his personal feelings get in the way. There was a patient waiting, counting on him. He exited the bathroom, pulling his luggage behind him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and he knew instinctively all eyes were glued to him. Turning, he smiled and waved awkwardly. No one returned his greeting.

  Good Lord.

  He approached Charlotte’s nurse, the one who had given him the scrubs. Lavender scrubs, no less. Quinn made a mental note to see if there were any blue or green in stock. He wasn’t partial to any shade of purple. Perhaps he was a bit of a pig for thinking this, but he felt a bit emasculated in such a feminine color.

  “Sorry, I don’t remember your name,” he apologized.

  “No worries. I’m Rosie, and I can take your luggage for you, Dr. Devlyn.”

  “Thanks. And the patient?”

  “In exam room one.”

  “Thanks again.”

  The eyes, he was pretty sure, followed him all the way to the exam-room door. The tension was so thick you could slice it with a knife. Perhaps they were shocked to see a man in lavender.

  Quinn knocked on the door and Charlotte answered. A smug smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she looked him up and down.

  “I think that’s your color,” she teased.

  “Think again,” he snarled.
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  Charlotte stifled a giggle and stepped to one side. “Come in.”

  Quinn entered the large exam room, his gaze resting on the Inuk couple in the corner. The woman was exceptionally pretty, with black hair and eyes to match. There was a dimple in her cheek as she grinned up at her husband.

  “Mentlana, Genen, this is Dr. Devlyn. He’s the specialist I told you both about.”

  Genen stood and came over to grasp Quinn’s bad hand, shaking it firmly. Quinn didn’t wince, even though the man had a strong grip.

  Quinn approached Mentlana and was surprised by her measured gaze. This woman was picking him apart with her eyes and he felt like a slab of meat.

  “A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Tikivik.”

  “And you, Dr. Devlyn. Charley wasn’t wrong. You are cute.”

  He arched his brows and held back the grin threatening to erupt.

  “Ahem.” Charlotte cleared her throat from behind him and now it was his turn to stifle a laugh. Craning his neck, he looked back at her. She was conveniently staring at the ceiling, but her blush was evidence of her embarrassment. He liked the way the pink bloomed in her creamy white cheeks.

  Focus.

  “Well, thank you for the compliment. I’d like to do an ultrasound, now, if that’s okay?” he asked, steering the subject back to the examination. But he planned to use Mentlana’s little disclosure of information to get him a manlier color of scrubs. Right now he had a job to do. Now was not the time for frivolity or personal feelings. “Do you have a full bladder?”

  “When don’t I?” Mentlana replied. “Please, before I burst.”

  “I’ll get the ultrasound machine,” Charlotte said.

  Charlotte wheeled the machine over and then dimmed the lights, refusing to meet his gaze.

  So, I still make her uncomfortable.

  That thought secretly pleased him.

  Getting to work, he uncovered Mentlana’s belly. “Sorry. This is a bit cold.”

  “That’s not cold, Dr. Devlyn. Outside is cold.”

  He grinned, but didn’t engage in any further pleasantries. He had a consult to complete. Quinn placed the probe against her abdomen and began to adjust the dials to get a clearer picture. Genen leaned forward, his eyes transfixed on the image on the monitor.