by Amy Ruttan
“Don’t patronize me.” A smile quirked on Mentlana’s lips. “Fill me in on all the gossip.”
Charlotte set her bag down on the table and pulled out a blood-pressure monitor. “Gossip? There’s no gossip.”
Mentlana snorted. “Please.”
Charlotte strapped the cuff on Mentlana’s arm. “Please, what?”
“How has it been, working with Quinn?”
Charlotte groaned. Of course Mentlana had to ask that. How had it been, working with Quinn? Awkward at first, annoying at times and maddening as she had to constantly wrestle with her emotions, emotions she’d thought were long since buried.
“That good, huh?” Mentlana said, as Charlotte took her blood pressure.
Charlotte tapped her nose. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about it. “Your blood pressure is a little high. We’ll keep an eye on it.” She pulled out her portable Doppler to listen to the baby’s heartbeat. She listened and didn’t like the sound she heard. “Is Genen here?” she asked.
“What’s wrong?”
Charlotte squeezed Mentlana’s hand. “I’d like Genen to go out and get Dr. Devlyn for me. I just want him to listen to the baby’s heartbeat, that’s all.”
“He’s on the ice.” Mentlana picked up her phone and texted him. “He’s with George and Dr. Devlyn.”
“Good.” Charlotte wrote down the baby’s irregular heartbeat. She’d have to get Mentlana in to the clinic for another ultrasound to check on the progress of the CCAM.
“Okay, you owe me gossip now that I’m all stressed until Dr. Devlyn gets here. Now, spill.”
“There’s nothing to spill.”
Mentlana’s gaze narrowed. “You can’t fool me. You’ve been scarce, quiet and very unlike yourself. You’ve been locked away in your clinic for days.”
“There was a snowstorm.”
“I’m not talking just about the blizzard, Charlotte.”
Charlotte sighed. “It’s hard.”
“Being around him?”
Charlotte nodded. “He left me.”
Mentlana bit her lip. “You left him too, though.”
“What do you mean? He went to New York. He picked his career over me.”
“I know. His timing sucked when he left, but you didn’t go with him, either. This is going to sound harsh, and I should really be careful, considering you’re my doctor, but did you ever think about how he felt when you didn’t go with him?”
Tears stung Charlotte’s eyes. No. She never had considered his feelings, just like she’d never even considered following him to New York.
Both of them had been so stubborn, so pigheaded and set in their ways.
There had been no compromise. There never had been.
“I think you still care for him, Charlotte, even if you don’t want to admit it, and I think you should give him another chance.”
Charlotte wasn’t sure she could. She was terrified to put her heart at risk again.
The door opened and she heard stamping by the door.
“Charlotte?” Quinn called out.
She cleared her throat, to knock the nervousness out. “In the bedroom.”
Quinn opened the door, his face rosy from the cold, his hair tousled by the wind, and there was stubble on his chin. The dark green of his fisherman’s sweater really brought out the dark brown of his eyes. He looked like he should be gracing the cover of some outdoor magazine. His appearance was rugged and it made the butterflies in her stomach flutter.
“Is everything okay?” he asked, a little out of breath.
“I need you to listen to the baby’s heartbeat. Also, Mentlana’s blood pressure is slightly elevated.”
Quinn nodded. “Sure.”
Charlotte stood up and let him sit down beside Mentlana. He used the Doppler, his brow furrowed in concentration as he listened to the heartbeat. After a couple of minutes he switched it off.
“Well?” Mentlana asked nervously.
“Your baby is fine. However, I’d like to do an ultrasound to check on him.” Quinn stood. “Genen is on his way back. Have him bring you over to the clinic as soon as he can.”
Mentlana nodded. “Okay.”
Quinn gave Mentlana’s shoulder a squeeze, the scars on his hand vivid against his skin because of the cold.
“It’ll be all right, Mentlana. You’ll see.” Quinn turned and gave Charlotte a serious look, which conveyed his concern, and her heart sank.
“Walk with me back to the clinic, Charlotte.” Quinn left Mentlana’s bedroom.
“Of course.” Charlotte packed up her things and bent down, giving Mentlana a quick kiss.
“Give him a chance, Charlotte. He didn’t come up here because of me,” Mentlana whispered.
Charlotte didn’t answer. Instead, she left the room in silence and then slipped on her coat, following Quinn outside. The crunching of the snow under their boots was the only sound that penetrated the uneasy tension between them.
“What’s your assessment?” she asked finally.
“I think it’s progressed, but I won’t know how much until I do an ultrasound.” He opened the clinic door, holding it open for her.
“And her blood pressure... Do you think that’s cause for concern?”
“We’ll run a urinalysis on her when she’s here.” He slipped out of his coat and then helped her with hers. “Like I said to Mentlana, it’ll be okay.”
“How do you know that?”
“Faith?” Quinn smiled. “You said you trusted me. That meant a lot, so I hope you trust me when I say it’ll be okay.”
“I do,” Charlotte said, and touched his arm. She did trust him, but as for everything else she wasn’t sure. She moved it away from him. “I’ll go get the ultrasound ready.”
“Sounds good. I’ll wait here to help Genen and Mentlana.”
“Okay.” Charlotte turned and walked down the hall away from Quinn. She was taking the coward’s way out, running away from the reality that she’d played a large part in the demise in their relationship, that she may have left him long before he’d left her.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
JUST WHEN QUINN thought he was making some headway with Charlotte she pulled away from him again. Something else had transpired at Mentlana’s, but he wasn’t sure what. The ultrasound had been tense, but the baby’s CCAM hadn’t progressed much. It wouldn’t be too much longer before they’d have to fly Mentlana to Iqaluit.
Quinn helped Genen take Mentlana home and get her settled. When he returned to the clinic, Charlotte was locked away in her office, working on files, and he didn’t want to disturb her, though he should. He wanted to know what was bothering her, but he also didn’t want to push her away.
Instead, he pulled out his camera. First he uploaded all the pictures on his memory card to his computer and then backed up the photographs on his USB stick. Once his memory card was free of the camera, he sat down at Charlotte’s kitchen table and took apart the telephoto lens to clean it out. When he’d been out ice fishing, some salt water had got into the lens so the camera’s automatic zoom was not working right. The last thing he wanted was his expensive photographic equipment to get ruined.
It was the first thing he’d bought when the bandages had come off and he’d gained a bit of strength back in his hand. He loved photography, but had never able to indulge in it.
When he’d been a kid he’d wanted to be a photographer for National Geographic, but when he’d announced that to his father his subscription to that magazine had ended, to be replaced by a medical journal.
Great magazine subscription for a kid of fourteen.
Quinn snorted and shook the thought of his father out of his head. There was no place for him there. Instead, he focused on the task at hand. It was delicate wo
rk, but he didn’t mind it in the least. His hand hadn’t been bothering him and he was able to keep a steady grip on his tools as he took apart the lens and began to clean it.
“I hope that won’t void the warranty.”
Quinn glanced up to see Charlotte hovering in the connecting door between her clinic and her home. She leaned against the doorjamb, watching him in fascination. The invisible wall she had put up only a couple of hours ago seemed to be down once more.
“The warranty was voided long ago.” Quinn continued with his work. This time she’d have to come to him. He held his breath, waiting, and then he heard her soft footfalls as she crossed the distance between the door and the kitchen table.
“That looks like pretty intricate work. You sure you know what you’re doing?”
“You doubt my mad skills?” Quinn wiped the dried salt from around the rim. “There. That should do it.”
“How did you get salt into your lens?”
“I was snapping some pictures out on the ice today.”
Charlotte smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear. “You weren’t fishing.”
“No. I hate fishing. I was there for the scenery.” Quinn put his telephoto lens back together. “That was actually something my father enjoyed. He liked fishing and made me go all the time. I never caught anything, much to his chagrin.”
“What do you think of the scenery up here? I mean, you weren’t too interested in seeing the sights in Yellowknife.”
Quinn met her gaze. “That was a different time. I was a different person.”
She didn’t say anything for a few moments. “I want to show you something, as you’re so interested in scenery.”
“I’m intrigued.”
“It’s outside, in the cold.” Charlotte stood up.
“I’m game, but we better hurry before the sun sets.”
“That’s the point.” She hurried into the clinic and returned with their parkas. She tossed him his and Quinn caught it.
“If it’s just a sunset, I’ve seen many.”
Charlotte grinned. “Not like this.” She zipped up her parka.
“If you say so.” Quinn pulled on his parka. “Lead the way.”
They headed outside, towards the water. The sun was setting, and it was so low that it seemed to be touching the horizon. Being so far north, the sun looked larger in the sky. As it set behind a cloud bank, it seemed like two other small suns peeked through the clouds, giving the illusion that three suns were setting on the water.
“Wow.” Quinn raised his camera and took a shot. “That is amazing.”
Charlotte nodded. “It is. They’re called sun dogs.”
Quinn glanced at her. The last rays of light touched her red hair, making it seem like it was aflame. He snapped a quick picture of her, looking out over the water.
“Hey, I didn’t say you could take one of me,” Charlotte protested.
“I was just admiring the view.”
A pink blush tinged Charlotte’s skin. He slung his camera over his shoulder and moved towards her, running his hand against her cold cheek.
“Quinn, please... I’m not sure.”
“You trust me, Charlotte?”
“I said I did.”
“Then tell me what’s wrong.”
Charlotte bit her lip. “It’s nothing about you. It’s me this time.”
Quinn was confused. “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t, either.” Charlotte sighed. The wall was up once more and he knew he couldn’t press her. “It’s getting dark. We need to get back to the clinic.”
“Sure.”
They walked in silence back to the clinic, but as they clambered over a snow bank Charlotte let out a cry of horror at what was on the other side.
Anernerk was huddled in the snow, unmoving and with no jacket.
“Oh, my God.” Charlotte scrambled down quickly. “Anernerk. Oh, God. No.”
Quinn was by their side in a moment. He whipped off his parka and wrapped it around the old woman. “She’s breathing, but barely.” He picked her up in his arms. The cold was biting at his skin, but he didn’t care. This was Charlotte’s family, and he cared about Anernerk, too.
Charlotte ran ahead and held open the clinic door. Quinn rushed her inside, following in the wake of Charlotte, who was preparing a nearby exam room.
Anernerk’s breathing was harsh. There was a rattle in her chest.
“Set her down here,” Charlotte said, placing his camera on the counter. Quinn hadn’t even known he’d dropped it or that Charlotte had picked it up. The moment he’d heard Charlotte cry out, he hadn’t thought about anything else except helping Anernerk.
Quinn laid the old lady down on the bed. “She can’t breathe well. I’m going to have to intubate her.”
“I’ll get an intubation kit.” Charlotte disappeared from the room.
“It’ll be okay,” Quinn whispered, brushing back hair from Anernerk’s forehead. Anernerk reached out and grabbed his arms, gripping him tightly with a surprising surge of strength.
“No,” she said in a barely audible whisper. “No.”
Quinn moved closer to her. “Anernerk, we have to.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Don’t be obstinate, Quinn Devlyn. Let me go.”
Anernerk’s breathing became shallower, her skin was waxy and the rattle in her chest became louder. The same sound many patients took when they were taking their final breaths.
“I have the intubation kit!” Charlotte rushed back into the room.
“She wants to go. She doesn’t want intubation. It’s her time.”
“She can’t breathe,” Charlotte said, flustered and annoyed. “Goddammit, Quinn. We have to intubate her.”
“No,” Anernerk said. “I told him not to.”
Charlotte paled. “What? Anernerk, I don’t—”
“It’s my time to go, Charlotte. You’re a wonderful doctor, as is Dr. Devlyn, but it’s my time to pass. The spirits have spoken to me.”
Tears welled up in Charlotte’s eyes as she leaned over Anernerk. “I can’t let you go. You’re all I have. You took care of me when my father died. I can’t lose you.”
“You have Dr. Devlyn.” Anernerk reached out and stroked Charlotte’s face. “I shall miss you, daughter.”
“No,” Charlotte cried as she gripped Anernerk’s shoulders. “No, I won’t let you go.”
“Don’t be the obstinate man’s wife with dark thoughts, my child. You have to let those fears go.”
Quinn held on to Charlotte’s shoulders, trying to pull her away, but she shrugged him off roughly and laid out the intubation instruments.
“No,” Charlotte shouted, to no one in particular. “We have to intubate.”
Anernerk stretched her body and took one last breath. Her chest stopped moving. A breeze entered the exam room and Quinn swore he could feel the old woman’s soul pass through him, if he believed in that sort of thing. Which he didn’t. But in this moment of Anernerk’s death, he wasn’t so sure.
“Time of death—sixteen-forty.” Charlotte slammed the intubation tray and pushed past him, leaving the room. He heard the distant slam of her office door.
Quinn scrubbed his hand over his face and then closed Anernerk’s eyes and covered her body with a sheet. He cleaned up and washed his hands, giving Charlotte her privacy as she grieved.
Twenty minutes later the door to the clinic opened and George entered the exam room. His face was broken and pale when his gaze landed on Anernerk’s body.
“Charley called me. I’ve come to take her to the special building we have. We store the bodies out there until we can bury them.”
“Of course. By all means.” Quinn stepped to one side. “Do you need help?”<
br />
George shook his head. “Thanks, but no. It’s Charley I’m worried about, Doc. Even though they bickered, like when you saw them, it was Grandma who reached out and healed Charlotte when she came back from Yellowknife, her and my sister. Just like when Charley’s dad died, Grandma was there because Charley didn’t have anyone else.”
There was a bitter taste in Quinn’s mouth.
He’d been the cause of her need to heal on her return from Yellowknife. He’d left her alone. It’d been his fault.
“I’ll take care of Charlotte.” Quinn left the exam room and headed straight for Charlotte’s office, but she wasn’t there.
The door to her apartment was slightly ajar and he peeked inside. She was curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the wall. She’d changed out of her heavy sweater into a T-shirt and yoga pants, her hair loose over her shoulders and a blanket lying over her hips.
When she looked at him a shudder ran down his spine. It was the same expression she’d given him when she’d been in the hospital in Yellowknife. All that was missing from the scene was the antiseptic smell of the hospital and an IV pumping blood into her veins.
Why had he walked away from her then? He’d been such a fool, but after he’d told her about New York she’d told him to go and had refused to see him. Even though they’d been engaged, they hadn’t been legally family and the hospital had had to respect her wishes. He’d remained at a distance, making sure her discharge from the hospital had gone well, although she hadn’t known he’d been there. And then he’d left.
It pained him that she’d shut him out of her life.
“Charlotte, I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“I should’ve intubated her.”
“She didn’t want it.”
Charlotte’s gaze narrowed. “It doesn’t matter. If I’d intubated her she’d still be alive.”
Quinn moved toward her. “Be reasonable. Anernerk was a hundred and one. It was her time to go.”
“No,” Charlotte shouted, jumping up to face him. “They’re my family. Mine. They’re all I have...”
* * *
Charlotte’s anger dissipated and she sat back down on the couch in defeat. She was taking out her grief on him. He didn’t deserve it. He’d only been listening to the patient’s wishes, whereas she had only been thinking about herself. She had let her emotions rule her. Quinn was right.