by Unknown
But some remnant of resentment inhibited her, and instead she shot him a rueful smile and raced down the stairs and out into the sunshine.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE REMAINDER of the day was spent getting settled in, arranging furniture and, just before the stores closed, driving into town for groceries to augment the scant necessities Cameron had stocked.
When they were hungry, he lit the barbecue on the deck and grilled burgers and vegetables for dinner. It was after sunset when at last Alex slipped into her bathing suit and headed down to the lakeshore for the swim she'd been promising herself.
The air was balmy, the water refreshingly cool. Cam was already in, and Alex swam out to him. He saw her coming and dove, grabbing her ankles and tugging her under. The awkwardness between them gradually disappeared as they splashed and played like otters, and she was aware of the desire that smoldered in his eyes as their slippery bodies touched in the cool water. It was growing dark by the time they made their way to shore and toweled off.
"Alex." He was drying her back with long, gentle strokes that lingered just where her abbreviated black bikini bottoms began. He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her toward him, tipping up her chin with a finger so he could look into her eyes.
His gaze was troubled, his tone somber. "Alex, I've been so damned lonely without you. I'm glad you're here with me now. I know how tough this move has been for you, and I'm grateful. I'll try to make it up to you."
The reserve inside her melted like wax in a flame. "Oh, Cam, just love me. Love me and I know everything'!! be all right."
"That's the easy part." His voice was husky as he dragged her close against his bare chest.
She moved back enough so that she could look up into his face.
"Are you going to be happy working here, Cam? It's such a drastic change for you. I always thought that even with all its problems, you loved your undercover job, the tension and excitement, the challenge, the fast pace of the city." She frowned up at him and slid her hands around his neck, missing the silkiness of his long hair. "Being in uniform, working in a small town—aren't you going to get awfully bored, Sergeant?"
It was a beginning, a lead in to the dozens of questions she needed to ask him.
"Far from being bored, I'm almost snowed under with all the things I have to learn about small-town policing. I've worked late every single night since I got here."
He pushed back her curly wet hair, looping it behind her ear as he leaned closer, taking her earlobe gently in his teeth, biting a little, making her shudder and press tight against him.
"Have I told you you've got sexy ears?" His thumb outlined her lips, and she opened her mouth and drew it in, relishing the low sound that came from his throat.
"I think we can find plenty to do to keep either of us from getting bored," he murmured hoarsely, running his hands in slow motion down her nearly naked body. "God, Alex, you're making me crazy with wanting you. Let's go in and start trying out some of those beds, sweetheart."
He drew in a shaky breath and folded her into his embrace. "We really ought to make sure they're all in working order before we have guests, right?"
"Right."
They drifted up to the house in the twilight, his arm tight around her shoulder, hers around his narrow hips, stopping often to kiss and hold each other close, their breathing ragged long before they reached the door. On the porch, his kisses became urgent, and he opened the door and hurried her through, kicking it shut behind them.
He turned her toward him and kissed her, scalding and deep, lifting her so that her hips rested against him, making her forcefully aware of how much he wanted her.
Sudden frantic need leaped from one to the other. He untied the string that held her bikini top in place, and her breasts spilled free. He cupped them in his palms, then dipped his head to draw first one aching nipple and then the other into his mouth, and she tugged at his trunks, sliding them down, dropping her own bikini bottoms to the floor along with them.
"Upstairs? Our bedroom?" He was short of breath. He trailed kisses along her jaw, his hands touching her breasts, her belly, sliding between her legs.
Hardly able to think, she shook her head, clinging to him, drowning in the deep, hot kisses that unleashed a storm of wanting. "I don't care where. Just hurry, Cam. Please hurry."
He moved his pelvis against her, and sensation jolted through her like a bolt of lightning. Frantic now, she tightened her grasp on his neck and wrapped her legs around him, desperate to have him inside her.
Dragging in a shaky breath, he cupped her bottom.
"Hold on tight, love. We'll never make it up the stairs."
Supporting her, his body trembling, he made his way to the main-floor bedroom.
The springs on the old bed creaked alarmingly when he set her down, and from the direction of the kitchen, Pa-varotti answered. Alex giggled, her voice wobbly. "He thinks it's another cat. He'll be in here in a minute—"
Cameron swore and kicked the door shut, and her laughter faded as he settled himself over her, his strong thighs cradling hers, his mouth plundering hers in a kiss that brought a low moan from deep inside her throat.
"My beautiful lady—"
Hungry, wild with wanting, she writhed beneath him, need throbbing. He moved his legs, separating hers, and at last, she was filled with him. Sensation, hot and delicious, gathered intensity as he rocked against her, and she moved in counterpoint rhythm, reality fading.
From somewhere far away, she was aware of the bed-springs protesting and of Pavarotti's outraged wail as he clawed at the bedroom door. Then there was only heat, and a pooling of such urgency inside her that she sobbed, holding him with all her strength, totally dependent on him for the explosion that caught her at last and sent her whirling into a splintering release.
Clinging tight, they slowly spiraled down to the fractured notes of Pavarotti, in full, indignant voice.
"I swear to God, I'm gonna drown that cat in the lake. Right after I oil these bedsprings." Exasperation and wry amusement mingled in Cam's husky whisper, and Alex giggled and closed her eyes, snuggling close to him.
There was a blanket on the end of the bed, and he drew it up over them.
"We really ought to go upstairs, to our own bed," she murmured.
"In a minute. Just lie still for now and let me hold you. It's been too long since I held you like this."
He folded her close.
Safe, secure in the shelter of her husband's body, she let consciousness slip away.
ALEX AWOKE HOURS LATER, in the middle of the night. Loons were calling on the lake. Cameron slept beside her, one arm still holding her close.
She felt troubled, as if she'd had a bad dream she couldn't quite remember, and in that first instant of awakening, she realized it was because they'd never really talked out the issues that had been bothering her. They would, though. Things were better between them, and they'd talk...
She snuggled closer to him, closed her eyes and slept.
NANCY TOWNSEND phoned Alex at eight the following morning. Cam had left for work an hour earlier, and Alex was having a cup of coffee on the porch outside the kitchen, feeling wonderfully lazy and contented as she watched Pavarotti stalk the small birds that flitted in and out of the water on the shoreline below. They were much too fast for the cat, but he went right on trying, crouching motionless and then springing at them an instant too late.
In a hesitant voice, Nancy asked if Alex was settled in, and she offered suggestions as to where the best bakery and meat market were located, and how to go about having fresh farmer's milk and eggs delivered to the door. There was a moment of awkward silence, and then in a tense voice she added, "I hate to be a nuisance, but I'd really be grateful if you'd have a look at Jason." Her concern was palpable. "He's throwing up more than ever. I've been feeding him every hour all night, and to me it looks as if he throws it all up again and then some. I'll bring him over if you like, or—I don't suppose you were plan
ning to come into town?"
"I was, as a matter of fact," Alex lied. "I'd be happy to come by. I haven't even showered yet, so it'll be a half hour or so." She craned her head to see the clock on the kitchen wall. "About nine-thirty, if that's convenient for you?"
"That's perfect. I can't thank you enough.'' It was obvious that Nancy was near tears. She added in a shaky voice, "I'm really worried, Alex."
It was only quarter past nine when Alex, medical bag in hand, tapped on Nancy's front door. She was shocked at the other woman's appearance. Nancy looked totally exhausted. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her bright smile was forced. "Come in. I feel so awful dragging you out on your first morning in your new house. I know how busy you must be." She sounded both apologetic and distracted. She led the way into the kitchen, where the baby was in the bassinet on his tummy, lying still and quiet.
"I'm not busy at all, honest. Cam's a neat freak, and he has everything in good shape. He's a lot better housekeeper than I am, I'm afraid. I was just sitting out on the deck being lazy when you called." Alex glanced around Nancy's spotless, gleaming kitchen, thinking of the dirty dishes she'd left in the sink, the unmade beds, the stack of laundry she'd forgotten to bring with her into town to wash.
Lucky she was good at medicine, she mused. When it came right down to it, she didn't really give a damn about a tidy house. People with medical problems were far more interesting—like tiny Jason.
She bent over the baby, turning him so she could see his face, and the moment she really looked at him, alarm bells went off in her head.
"Morning, sweetface. Let's just slip these clothes off so I can have a good look at you here," she crooned. She picked him up and smiled down at him, hiding her reaction to his pallor, the dark circles under his eyes, the fact that he didn't startle or open his eyes when she lifted him. She noticed that the fontanel on the top of his head was sunken.
Nancy had already put a folded blanket covered by a fresh sheet on the table, and Alex quickly laid the baby there and stripped off his clothing, further alarmed by the swollen and bloated belly and the sagging skin at his minute shoulder joints, all clear indicators that he was seriously dehydrated.
"He threw up all day yesterday, too, so I called Dr. King last night," Nancy said.
"And what'd King say?" Alex was palpating the baby's stomach.
Nancy suddenly burst into tears. "That—that I was a new mo-mother, imagining problems where there weren't any."
Jason's eyelids flickered and he, too, began crying—not the demanding cry of a healthy baby, but a weak, tired whimper.
"Is he wetting his diaper at all?" Dehydration in babies was a very serious matter.
Nancy shook her head. "Not since last night."
It wasn't a good sign. "When he vomits, Nancy, what's it like?" Alex probed the baby's abdomen once more, and again her fingers encountered the hard, telltale lump on the pyloric valve.
Nancy sniffed and blew her nose on a tissue. "It's really forceful, almost like an explosion. It happens about ten or fifteen minutes after he's eaten, and it goes right across the room sometimes."
'' Projectile vomiting.''
Nancy's eyes were filled with dread. "He's really sick, isn't he, Alex? I know it, inside of me, in a way I can't explain."
Alex looked over at the other woman, compassion and sympathy in her tone. "He is sick, Nance. I can't be sure without some tests, but I think he might have a condition called pyloric stenosis. That's when a valve between the stomach and intestine swells and closes off the digestive tract. I can feel a little lump right here—" She took Nancy's fingers and guided them to the spot. "There, in his abdomen, and one of the primary symptoms is projectile vomiting. If I'm right, he'll need an operation to correct it."
"Oh, my God." Nancy's hand flew up to cover her mouth, and there was outright panic in her eyes.
Alex reached out and gripped her shoulder. "It's a fairly minor operation, but it can't be done here. It needs to be performed by a trained pediatric surgeon. Babies with this condition are always sent to Vancouver because it's a specialized technique. The real danger is that Jason's quite dehydrated right now. There's not much time to lose." Alex refastened the tiny diaper, her mind racing. She replaced the sleepers and booties and handed the baby to Nancy.
Alex knew what she was about to do would likely make her future relationship with Dr. King less than amicable, but there was no choice. From what Nancy had said, King had obviously and repeatedly overlooked a serious medical condition, and if Alex didn't take action, there was a good possibility that within twenty-four hours, Jason would die.
"I want you to go right now and pack a bag for yourself and for Jason. Take enough to last you both at least a week. I'm going next door to contact the BC Air Ambulance Service." With their help, Alex explained, she'd arrange for an ambulance to transport Jason to the airport in Cranbrook, an hour and a half's drive away, where a charter aircraft out of Vancouver would be waiting to transport the baby to Children's Hospital and the expert surgical care he required.
"Please, could you get hold of Greg for me?" Nancy was trembling.
"Absolutely. I'll get Lorna to radio him."
Nancy nodded, her chin wobbling. "Thanks. Thanks so much, Alex." Nancy's face was stark white, and the arms that cradled her baby shook, but her tears had stopped, and she seemed to have gained determination and strength as she hurried from the room.
Next door Alex quickly outlined the situation for Lorna, grateful that the other woman didn't ask any unnecessary questions. "How can I help?" was all she said.
At Alex's direction, she contacted Greg and Cameron. Alex was on the phone to BC Air Ambulance when Greg hurried into the office. Cameron was only a moment or two behind him.
The air ambulance service was fast and efficient. They assured Alex that an aircraft would be dispatched immediately and that the paramedics' van stationed in Korbin Lake would arrive in moments to pick up the baby, Alex, and Nancy and transport them to the airport. Alex made certain they'd have equipment for her to begin the intravenous drip that Jason required, and when she hung up the phone she quietly explained to Greg and Cameron what was going on.
The blood drained from Greg's florid countenance, and he made a choked, wordless sound before he managed to speak. "Are we going to lose him?" His voice quavered. "I don't think Nance could bear it if we lost this baby, too."
"That's not going to happen," Alex assured him with a note of confidence in her voice that she didn't actually feel. "We're going to get Jason to the best surgeon I know, and within a few weeks, he'll be completely well." She hesitated. She hated to frighten him more, but he had to be aware of the facts. "It's very important we get him there as soon as possible, though."
"You'll want to be with Nancy and the baby in Vancouver," Cameron said to Greg. "Go change and pack. Lorna will make arrangements for a seat on the next commercial flight out of Cranbrook, so you can be with your family in Vancouver by this evening at the latest. I'll put in for emergency leave for you and handle your shifts until you get back."
Greg was unable to respond for a moment. His throat worked, and then he managed to say, "Thanks, Cam. Both of you, thanks."
"Go get ready." Cam gave him a gentle punch on the shoulder, and the other man swallowed hard and hurried away.
Lorna was busy making calls, and for a moment Alex and Cameron were alone.
"Will the little guy make it?" Cameron's voice was pitched low, so that only Alex could hear.
"I think so, but another couple of hours could have been fatal." Her voice betrayed her feelings. "What I'd like to know is what the hell is wrong with King, missing something like this? It's not a difficult diagnosis."
"Good thing Nancy called you. If you're going with her in the ambulance, you'll need money in case you stop on the way back for a meal or something." He pulled out his wallet and extracted bills, handing them to her.
Alex shook her head. He knew her so well; she never thought of mund
ane matters like having cash in her purse.
Cam planted a quick, intense kiss on her lips, and another lighter one on her nose.
"Get Lorna to give me a call the minute you get back. And if anything comes up and you need me, call here. You've got the number with you?"
"I have it. Thanks, Cam." She was the one in charge, but it was enormously comforting to have his support.
There wasn't time for anything more. The ambulance arrived, and it took Alex only a few moments to ascertain that the two paramedics on board were highly competent.
Martha Davis was plump, probably in her late fifties, with a head of snow-white hair and an air of serene calm. Her partner, Daniel Brandt, was younger, forty perhaps, with craggy good looks, an athletic, well-muscled build, a head of thick, curling brown hair and a captivating grin.
The ambulance was equipped with an isolette, and with the paramedics' assistance, Alex inserted an IV drip of normal saline solution into the frontal vein on Jason's head. When the procedure was completed, Nancy climbed in, and within moments, they were speeding down the highway with Daniel at the wheel.
The trip was uneventful, the conversation limited to comments about Jason. The baby weathered the trip well, and it didn't seem long at all to Alex before the ambulance reached the Cranbrook airport.
The landing field had been cleared, and the small, sleek aircraft chartered by Air Ambulance was waiting. The highly trained members of the infant transport team hurried over with a transporter isolette the instant the ambulance stopped, and Alex gave them a concise summary of her diagnosis and Jason's condition, turning the responsibility for her tiny patient over to their expert care. "Hang in there, tiger," she whispered as she helped them transfer him from one isolette to the other.
In less than ten minutes, she and the two paramedics watched as the aircraft sped down the runway and lifted into the blue, sun-filled afternoon sky with Jason and Nancy on board.