Emergency Baby

‘You’ve got a little boy, Courtney!’

‘Oh…Oh!’ Courtney held out her arms. ‘Give him to me…please?’

‘Lift your jersey up,’ Sam suggested. ‘Let’s get him against your skin and keep you both wrapped up to stay warm.’ She looked up at the Red Cross woman who was standing, open-mouthed. ‘We need some towels,’ she said calmly. ‘And more blankets. And would you have any idea where my partner, Alex, is?’

‘I’m right here.’ The tent flap moved. ‘What’s the—’ His jaw also went slack as the lump under Courtney’s jersey gave another warbling cry.

‘I need some clips for the cord,’ Sam told him. ‘Can you find something in the kit?’

The adrenaline rush that had been missing throughout this job had finally arrived. Sam’s fingers worked swiftly and automatically and her brain refused to register any physical weariness. The delivery was completed, the placenta saved for later examination and Sam held the infant, having wrapped him in fluffy towels, while two Red Cross women helped Courtney into some dry clothes and Alex went to find some available transport to take mother and child to the nearest hospital.

The baby was a few weeks early but he seemed a good size and perfectly healthy. He lay in a cocoon of soft towelling, his eyes wide open, staring up at Sam.

She stared back, and something stirred deep within her that had nothing to do with any extra adrenaline in her system. Too nebulous to be tacked to any clear memories, it was more like a pool of feelings that had been long buried. It had to do with being held by arms that belonged to someone who could offer the ultimate in comfort to a helpless being. To do with absolute trust. And unconditional love.

The things that a mother offered her child.

The things that Sam had had taken away too long ago. Things that could never be replaced because she could never have another mother.

The stirring was more than poignant. A need that had no hope of ever being fulfilled could only be painful. Sam could never be given what she had once needed so very badly.

Or could she?

Maybe she didn’t need to receive it to ease that sore patch on her soul. Maybe giving it would have the same effect.

Sam couldn’t take her eyes off the tiny unblinking face of Courtney’s baby. She was totally mesmerised.

The longing—the need—was overwhelming. This was a night for revelations, wasn’t it? But didn’t everything happen for a reason? Had she simply been presented with an answer to what could lie in her life beyond her career? Something that could negate any void? A future that could actually repair the past?

Alex gave her a strange look as he returned and took the bundle from her arms to give the baby back to his mother.

‘Don’t go getting any ideas,’ he warned softly.

The warning was way too late.

The longing might come to nothing but the idea had taken firm root.

Samantha Moore wanted a baby.

Big time.

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_3277529c-b124-59d4-810d-2d856617f3f1)

SOMETHING had changed.

Alex couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, but that disturbing little niggle had been there ever since that caving job a week ago and it kept popping up at the oddest times.

Like now, when they were in the middle of dealing with a three-car pile-up on the main road near the airport and he should be totally focussed on the patient he was currently assessing.

He was focussed—kind of. Fortunately, no life-threatening injuries had been caused by the accident even though one of the cars had been travelling at a fairly high speed on one of the semi-rural roads. SERT members were based at the airport, in order to be near their helicopter transport, but they also crewed a standard ambulance and were used as first response to any callouts that wouldn’t take them more than five minutes’ drive away from their base.

Such as this scene, where an elderly driver had failed to stop at an intersection and had gone into the side of a car that had then swerved into the lane of opposing traffic. The driver coming the other way had luckily had time to brake as he’d swerved himself but he had still connected with the elderly woman’s car with enough force to cave in the passenger side.

Remarkably, she appeared to be unhurt. She was also very cross.

‘Someone is going to have to pay for this damage to my car!’

‘Do you have any medical conditions that you’re being treated for, ma’am? Problems with your heart or blood pressure perhaps?’

‘Are you suggesting this accident was my fault, young man?’

Alex almost grinned. It was all relative, he supposed, and thirty-eight would make him a whippersnapper to someone who looked to be well into their eighties. This accident could not have been anyone else’s fault, however. The faded blue eyes glaring at him belonged to someone who had just gone through a very clearly marked ‘stop’ sign.

‘I just want to check you out and make sure you haven’t been hurt,’ he told her.

‘I’m not hurt but I could have been killed! I want to know who’s responsible.’

‘Are you having any trouble breathing?’ Silly question. Nobody would be snapping at him like an angry barracuda if they were in serious respiratory distress. ‘Do you have any pain anywhere?’

Alex glanced up to see whether he might be needed with a more seriously injured person in one of the other vehicles. No such luck. The male driver of the third vehicle involved was talking to a police officer and his wild gesticulations towards the ‘stop’ sign and then Alex’s position suggested that he wasn’t in any degree of physical distress.

Sam was with the occupants of the car that had been hit side on by the old woman’s car. She was crouched in front of a baby’s seat that had been lifted from the rear of the car. A young woman stood beside her, looking very anxious. Even from this distance Alex could see that the baby was smiling in response to whatever noises or exaggerated facial expressions Sam was making and her posture made it quite obvious that everything was under control there.

And there it was again.

That disturbing little niggle.

A curious disappointment, perhaps, that this job wasn’t going to provide the kind of challenge that his partner thrived on. One that would drive any current dissatisfaction with her career into the background.

Where it belonged.

‘I’m bleeding! Oh, my goodness! I’ve ruined a brand-new pair of stockings.’ The dismay in his patient’s voice was wildly misplaced. The thin leg Alex could see now protruding from the car had had a sizeable flap of skin peeled back from the shin. He snapped open the catches on his kit and reached for a gauze pad and a saline sachet to dampen it.

‘I’m going to cover this to stop the bleeding, ma’am. This might sting a little bit.’

‘It’s not going to fix my stocking, is it? Someone’s going to have to replace these as well. They’re not cheap, you know. I only buy the best. None of that nasty supermarket rubbish!’

‘Of course,’ Alex murmured. ‘Can you tell me your name, please, ma’am?’

‘What for?’

‘I’m going to need to fill in some paperwork.’

‘Oh…all right. It’s Esme. Esme Dickson.’

Alex wound the bandage around Esme’s leg to hold the dressing in place and apply enough pressure to stop the bleeding. ‘And how old are you, Mrs Dickson?’

‘None of your business. And it’s “Miss”, not “Mrs”.’