Buch lesen: «Brought Together by Baby»

Praise for
Margaret McDonagh:

‘The romance takes a sensual turn that

will have readers longing for the couple’s

much deserved happily-ever-after.’

—RT Book Reviews on VIRGIN MIDWIFE, PLAYBOY DOCTOR

This is Louisa George’s first book for Mills & Boon^® Medical^™ Romance. Look out for more from her, coming soon!

Dear Reader

Welcome to Strathlochan and the tenth of my loosely linked Scottish stories—my fourteenth Mills & Boon® Medical^™ Romance. Unfortunately, this book has taken many more months to come to fruition than expected, due to a prolonged spell of illness which prevented me from writing. After the heroic efforts of the real-life doctors, nurses and support staff at my local cottage hospital—to whom I send my heartfelt thanks—I’ve been able to return to my fictional heroes and heroines at last.

With two of her closest friends, Gina and Ruth, settled with their respective partners, it is Holly’s turn to find love. She’s waited a long time for her happy ending. So has Gus. They had something special, and lost it before their love had a chance to blossom, but sometimes life rights past wrongs and grants second chances. Fate intervenes to bring Gus and Holly back together, uniting them in a common cause. Can the hurt, resentment, betrayals and misunderstandings of the past be resolved? And will Gus and Holly finally enjoy the happiness they both deserve?

There are more Strathlochan stories waiting in the wings, and I hope I’m well enough to bring them to you without such a long wait in between. Whether you’ve visited the folk in Strathlochan before, or this is your first time, I hope you will enjoy Gus and Holly’s emotional journey and come to love them as much as I do. I also hope you will return to Strathlochan again in future. I’m looking forward to introducing you to Rafael and Georgia in the next story. For now, though, the stage belongs to Gus and Holly …

Love

Margaret

www.margaretmcdonagh.com

Brought
Together
by Baby

Margaret McDonagh

www.millsandboon.co.uk

With special thanks to:

Dr Nick Edwards, author of In Stitches, for help with my research

John and Jennifer,

for all your help and kindness

Fiona, Craig, Jackie, Lesley, Irene, Fiona, Janet,

Gwen, Caroline, Christina, Maggie, Pam,

Wolfie, Anne, Richard and Fiona,

for being there for me

Jo—editor extraordinaire— for your support, patience and encouragement

All the staff at the local sanatorium,

aka The Madhouse!

Words are insufficient to thank you for

everything you’ve done for me,

in so many ways,

and for all your kindness and care.

CHAPTER ONE

‘YOU won’t believe this, Gus, but the air ambulance is on its way in.’

Dr Gus Buchanan glanced up from the notes he was writing as Carolyn, the nurse assigned to assist him, returned to the treatment cubicle after seeing out their most recent patient. ‘Again?’

‘Again,’ Carolyn confirmed, her tone and wide-eyed expression echoing his own incredulity.

The warm and sunny June day should have been unremarkable, but he was eight hours into his shift and Strathlochan Hospital’s A&E department had been bedlam for every minute of it. The chaos showed no sign of abating: every treatment cubicle was in use, the emergency phone continued to ring non-stop, and now the air ambulance, which had already responded to a record number of calls since early morning, was back in action once more.

Gus snapped the file closed and pocketed his pen. ‘What the hell is going on today?’

‘Heaven knows. It’s the craziest shift I’ve had in the five years I’ve been here,’ his colleague informed him, shaking her head. ‘How many patients have we treated and sent home?’

‘I’ve lost count.’

‘Me, too. And the Minors waiting area is still full to bursting. They’re at breaking point in Resus, too, and have already called in off-duty staff to help. If it carries on like this I wouldn’t be surprised if they had to call for more.’ As she talked Carolyn busied herself clearing up the debris he’d left after stitching a pensioner’s nasty leg wound. ‘The helicopter must be attending something especially serious, Gus, because Kathleen all but threw the emergency phone at Laura in Reception before rushing off to alert Robert Mowbray. I’ve never seen her that upset before.’

Nor had he. Gus frowned. The fact that Kathleen O’Leary, the unflappable department manager, was acting so out of character highlighted the unusualness of the day, but it was hearing how overstretched his colleagues were that increased his frustration. He’d spent the day stuck in Minors rather than being in the thick of the action as part of a Resus team. All the doctors rotated round the A&E department and, whilst he generally enjoyed taking his turn in Minors—where he had more time and saw a wider variety of patients—it was the adrenalin rush of emergency medicine that called to him, testing his skills and giving him the buzz on which many trauma doctors thrived.

As Carolyn washed her hands and applied antibacterial gel to them before setting about restocking the dressing trolley, Gus slid off the high stool he’d perched on to write the notes and stood up. ‘While you prep things here, I’ll find out what’s next on our agenda.’

‘OK, Gus.’

He didn’t admit it aloud, but he was secretly hoping that Robert Mowbray, the head consultant on duty, would notice him and reassign him to help out in Resus, despite the queues in Minors.

‘Thanks, Carolyn. Grab yourself a cup of tea when you’re done.’

His suggestion earned him a rueful smile. ‘The chance would be a fine thing! No one has stopped all day, yourself included, and I can’t see any sign of that changing.’

‘Not if the patients keep coming at the same rate,’ he agreed, masking his fatigue, knowing it was shared by all his colleagues.

Caroline sent him a quick grin. ‘One of the registrars has dubbed today Wild Wednesday.’

‘Let’s hope it doesn’t turn into Tempestuous Thursday and Frantic Friday, too,’ Gus countered, returning her smile.

‘Don’t even joke about it!’

Carolyn’s chuckle followed him as he left the cubicle and negotiated his way along the busy corridor. She was a pleasant and competent young woman to work with, Gus reflected. All the nurses were. Apart from department vamp Olivia Barr, whose professional standards left much to be desired and whom he avoided whenever possible. But neither Carolyn nor any of the other nurses was as naturally skilled or as instinctively on the same wavelength with him as Holly had been.

His step faltered.

Holly …

For a moment the breath caught in his throat as everything within him tightened and his mood darkened. Holly was the nurse with whom he had become so close following his arrival in Strathlochan the previous August. Now even thinking about her was forbidden and upsetting—although that didn’t stop his mind lingering on her far more often than he cared to admit. Holly had burrowed into his psyche and, try as he might, he hadn’t been able to banish her.

Things between Holly and himself had turned sour suddenly and in so many ways that it had been both a relief and a wrench when she had transferred to the Children’s Ward at the beginning of the year. He’d refused to acknowledge or unravel his own complex responses to her leaving. But there was no doubt that A&E had lost one of its finest nurses … or that his colleagues held him responsible for that loss.

A distinct chill had lingered in the atmosphere after Holly’s departure. Support and sympathy had lain squarely with her, while he had universally been dubbed the villain of the piece. The truth? It was his fault. And no one knew that more than him. Although it didn’t absolve Holly of blame for her own part in things, no one felt more guilty, more angry or more riddled with self-disgust and regret than he did, and no one could think less of him than he thought of himself.

He’d been a loner all his life. It had never bothered him. Indeed, he felt most comfortable behind the barrier he put between himself and the rest of the world. Only when he’d been plunged back into the self-inflicted spell of isolation after the events with Holly had he fully realised how much of a difference she had made, how much she had changed him, and how much colour she had brought to the greyness of his world.

Through Holly he’d had a taste of acceptance and friendship and belonging the like of which he had never experienced before. Until, following her rejection of him—which had hit hard when he’d been at his lowest ebb—he’d thrown it all away in a moment of weakness. Through his own stupidity he’d lost any chance of reconciliation, of persuading Holly to change her mind about taking their relationship to the next level and, as a result, his hope for a promising future with Holly had been shattered.

Yes, Holly had played a part. She’d hurt and disappointed him. And finding out that she’d kept things from him, that he hadn’t known her as well as he’d thought, had dented his trust in her. But blaming her didn’t excuse his own reaction, and feelings of guilt and self-disgust continued to torment him.

Since Holly’s transfer from A&E he’d kept his head down and worked hard, more grateful than he’d expected to be when, as the days and weeks passed, he had slowly won back the professional acceptance and co-operation of his colleagues. What they thought of him personally was less clear. He only knew that self-respect remained a long way away.

Since the chasm had opened up between them he’d been careful to keep his distance, and once Holly had moved to the Children’s Ward he’d gone out of his way to avoid running into her around the hospital. He hadn’t caught even the briefest glimpse of her for weeks. Unfortunately out of sight had not rendered her out of mind. Holly continued to haunt him, which not only irritated him no end but added to the disappointment, confusion and hurt he still felt at the slightest thought of her.

And, above all, the pressing weight of guilt.

He had no business whatsoever thinking about Holly. Not any more. Not since the night when her public rejection of him had sparked off the chain of events that had rollercoastered out of his control, culminating on the day in December when his mistakes had come home to roost.

The day of his hastily arranged civil marriage.

The day Holly had become his sister-in-law … and Julia his wife.

Gus bit down the derisive, humourless laugh that rose inside him. He used the term ‘wife’ in the loosest sense of the word. Not that anyone had a clue about the true state of his six-and-a-half-month marriage. Which was just the way he wanted it. Apart from the man who had been his mentor throughout his troubled teenage years—a man whose premature death four years previously had left a big and painful hole—there was only one person in whom he had truly felt able to confide anything about himself and his life.

Holly.

And now she was the one person he could never talk to again—especially about his sham of a marriage to her sister Julia, and the loneliness he felt within it. The situation was entirely his own fault, and no matter how difficult things were all he could do was make the best of them. Because within the next few weeks the dynamics would change again and he would have a new role. A role he had never planned on or wanted and which brought with it a whole new range of frightening emotions and responsibilities: fatherhood.

As he approached the main desk the charged atmosphere and tension within the A&E department became even more evident. Robert Mowbray was talking intently on the emergency phone, while Kathleen was busy keeping up with the instructions Robert fired at her.

‘What’s happening, Laura?’ Gus asked, handing the young clerk the patient file on which he had just signed off. To his surprise, the normally bubbly and talkative girl shook her head and avoided meeting his gaze. ‘Are you OK?’

‘Fine.’

The response was muffled and the girl’s head remained bowed. Clearly she was anything but fine. Making a mental note to keep an eye on her, Gus moved to the nearby whiteboard. As he wiped off the details of his last patient he listened in to Robert’s side of the conversation, and it was immediately obvious that Carolyn had been right: something major was taking place.

‘I trust your judgement, Frazer,’ the consultant said, identifying the caller as Frazer McInnes, one of the flight doctors on Strathlochan’s air ambulance. ‘Kathleen is calling in the relevant specialists and alerting the operating theatre now. She may have experienced the first signs of labour before the crash … No, I agree with you. Our primary concern has to be for the baby and making every effort possible to save it. If she wasn’t wearing a seatbelt she might have sustained such fatal injuries hitting the steering wheel and the windscreen. How’s the foetal heartbeat? I’m not surprised the baby’s showing signs of distress. Do what you can to control the haemorrhaging. We’re on standby ready for you. We’ll bypass Resus and go straight to Theatre.’

Gus suppressed the wave of nausea that ripped through him as the horrific implications of the accident sank in. How dreadful for the casualties—the pregnant woman’s family in particular—but his sympathies also went out to the medical personnel. Any emergency that involved a baby was always difficult but, like himself, Frazer was also anticipating becoming a father soon, so this would be painfully close to home right now.

He certainly didn’t know how he would cope were he in Frazer’s place, confronting such a critical, challenging and emotional situation, Gus admitted, a shiver running down his spine. This was one occasion when he was glad to be in a well-equipped A&E department with back-up at hand rather than dealing with the pre-hospital conditions out at the roadside, making the best of what was available and taking the responsibility of making split-second life-and-death decisions.

Robert hung up the phone and turned to address the assorted personnel who were gathering around him and who seemed, Gus thought, more tense and edgy than usual. Why were they acting so strangely? Even the department’s joker, registrar Dr Will Brown, renowned for his ready smile and sense of humour, was uncharacteristically sombre and subdued. Puzzled, Gus put his colleagues’ changed behaviour down to the stress of the incredibly busy and pressured day.

‘ETA four minutes. I need extra fluids made ready—Frazer will be running low,’ Robert announced, and a senior nurse hurried off to do his bidding. ‘Kathleen, ask Security to help maintain a clear route to Theatre. And alert the blood bank. A transfusion is more than likely.’

‘I’m on it.’

Hoping to make himself useful, Gus stepped closer, but when he caught his boss’s gaze he was unable to read the expression that lingered there before the older man turned away to issue further instructions.

‘This is a unique and horrible situation, so focus on your tasks and not on the wider implications,’ he advised cryptically, puzzling Gus further. ‘You know what to do. Let’s get on. Someone hold the lift so there’s no delay when we need it. Kathleen …?’

‘Security are on the way. I’ve notified the blood bank. And I’ve fast-bleeped the emergency obstetrician and neurologist. They’re going straight to Theatre to scrub up,’ the middle-aged woman announced, the waver in her lilting Irish voice and her unusual pallor increasing Gus’s concern and the insidious feeling that something was very wrong here.

Grim-faced, Robert nodded. ‘And the neonatal consultant?’

‘He’s dealing with a problem baby in Paediatric Intensive Care next door,’ Kathleen explained, referring to the maternity wing adjacent to the main hospital. ‘But he’ll be across directly.’

Unsettled, Gus spoke up. ‘Is there anything I can do to help, Robert?’

‘No!’

Gus was taken aback by the shrill and sudden denial—even more so because it came from Laura. A flash of anguish in her own eyes, Kathleen hurried across to the girl, who was clearly distressed.

‘Take a break in the staffroom to get yourself together,’ the older woman advised, kind but firm. As Laura pushed back her chair and hurried away, Kathleen exchanged another pained glance with Robert. ‘I’ll talk to her when I’ve finished here.’

‘Of course,’ the consultant agreed.

Before Gus could query Laura’s strange reaction, Robert laid a hand on his shoulder and drew him aside.

‘Gus …’ He paused and shook his head, concern and compassion evident in his eyes before his gaze strayed towards the entrance. The doors were open, allowing them to hear the first sounds of the approaching air ambulance. ‘Please wait for me in my office,’ Robert continued. The distinctive noise of the helicopter’s rotor blades increased as the aircraft descended onto the landing pad. Gus was aware of Robert’s hand tightening briefly on his shoulder before contact was withdrawn. ‘I’m sorry, Gus. I’ll come and talk with you in a few minutes.’

The consultant was rushing through the department before Gus could ask what he was sorry for and what he wanted to talk about. As he made his way to the office his unease increased in unison with the strange buzz in the department. If Robert wasn’t going to reassign him, he needed to get back to Minors to see his share of the patients requiring attention. Either way, he didn’t want to be cooling his heels here for long.

His thoughts took an abrupt change of direction when he saw Frazer McInnes enter the department at a run, his flight paramedic Rick Duncan at the other end of the stretcher. Both men were covered in blood and carrying IV lines in one hand while guiding the trolley with the other. And both looked drained, clearly shaken by the traumatic events they had witnessed at the accident site and on the flight to the hospital.

‘Clear the way!’ Frazer called, his voice rough and impatient.

As Frazer, Rick, Robert and their entourage rushed down the corridor to the lifts, Gus offered up a plea for the baby’s survival. Moved by the tragedy, he thrust his hands into the pockets of his scrub trousers and paced the small office, too on edge to wait patiently. He was on the point of returning to Reception to question Kathleen when his boss returned.

An inexplicable shiver of dread rippled through him at the uncharacteristically bleak expression in Robert’s eyes as he entered the room and closed the door behind him.

‘Sit, please,’ he invited.

Gus did as he was asked, but instead of moving round the desk to take his own chair Robert stood beside him, once more resting a hand on his shoulder. Rather than reassuring him, the gesture increased Gus’s unease. A dark premonition chilled his blood.

‘What is it, Robert? Have I done something wrong?’ he asked, unable to bear the electric silence another moment.

‘No. No, of course not,’ his boss responded, sounding weary and resigned. ‘Gus, there’s something I must tell you …’

Holly Tait finished the scheduled observations and wrote the information on her six-year-old patient’s chart. The little girl had returned from Theatre less than twenty-four hours ago following an operation to remove her infected appendix. Understandably, she was still very sore. Holly checked the chart to see when the next medications were due, her disobedient gaze straying to the signature of the A&E doctor responsible for the girl’s admission.

Gus Buchanan. Pain lanced through her, but Holly knew that hers, unlike her patient’s, was a pain no medicine could cure. She’d transferred from the A&E department to the Children’s Ward in January, hoping that removing herself from Gus’s presence would be the first step in the healing process. It hadn’t worked. Now it was June, and she still couldn’t get him, what he’d done, or the barrage of conflicting emotions out of her mind. Even reading his name or seeing his handwriting twisted the knife that pierced her heart. And it hurt as much as ever.

Sensing she was being watched, Holly looked up and saw Sister Erica Sharpe’s formidable form standing in the ward’s office doorway. Erica beckoned her and Holly nodded her understanding. She hung the chart on the bed and ensured her young charge was comfortable before walking towards the office, wondering if they had a new admission to contend with. It had been a busy day, with several new patients coming in, and they had little space left for any more beds.

As Holly approached Erica remained in the doorway, hands planted on ample hips. She could be anywhere between fifty and seventy years of age—no one knew, and asking was out of the question. Erica had been part of the hospital since its transformation from a small cottage hospital to the well-equipped regional infirmary it had become, growing over the years in proportion with the way Strathlochan itself had expanded.

Erica had a fearsome reputation—Sharpe by name and, on occasion, sharp by nature—and even the most senior consultants had been known to quiver in their boots when on the receiving end of her displeasure. Student nurses approached her ward with awe and trepidation. Holly smiled, remembering her own scary first meeting with Erica. Several years on and she had huge respect for the woman who gave everything for her patients and under whose impressive bosom beat a heart of gold.

‘Come in, Holly,’ she invited, her sombre expression and the look in her eyes making Holly feel uneasy.

Inside the office Holly faltered, surprised to see Gina Adriani, one of her closest friends, sitting there. A fellow staff nurse, Gina had worked with her in A&E before leaving the previous summer to take up a position at Strathlochan’s new multi-purpose drop-in centre. Just married and blissfully happy, today Gina looked uncharacteristically pensive and pale.

‘Hello! What are you doing here? Have you come to do some real work?’ Holly joked, trying to shake off a sudden sense of foreboding.

‘No, not that.’

Gina didn’t return her smile and Holly’s apprehension increased. ‘What is it?’

‘Sit down, my dear,’ Erica advised, nudging a free chair closer to Gina’s.

‘What’s going on?’ Holly asked again, glad for the seat as her legs now felt too wobbly to hold her.

Erica never called anyone ‘my dear’ unless there was bad news. Holly’s imagination ran wild and fear took hold. Had something happened to Seb, Gina’s husband? Or to their mutual friends Rico and Ruth?

Before she could voice her anxiety Gina took her hand. ‘I wish there was some better way to tell you.’

‘Tell me what?’ Holly’s chest tightened as alarm increased. ‘Gina?’

Her friend sucked in a breath. ‘There’s been a terrible road accident. Holly, it’s Julia. She’s been fatally injured.’

Holly reeled, suddenly feeling as if she was dreaming. She groped for words, which at first would not come.

‘Wh-What about the baby?’ She somehow forced the question past the fear and shock that clogged her throat. ‘It’s not due until next month.’

‘Julia was brought in by air ambulance and is in Theatre now. A specialist team is doing everything possible to save the baby,’ Gina explained, but the words failed to quell the terror building within.

‘Oh, my God.’

Holly sagged in the chair, her fingers tightening reflexively on Gina’s as Erica rested an arm around her shoulders. Both women were talking, but Holly didn’t hear a word: her heart was racing, every manic beat reverberating in her ears. As the horrific news sank in a range of mixed emotions and unanswered questions chased themselves through her head, and a cry of distress welled within her as she zeroed in on one thing.

One person.

Whatever else had happened, however much he’d hurt her, and however badly things had gone wrong, there was only one person she could think of now and only one place she needed to be.

‘Gus,’ she whispered, her voice raw with the pain searing through her. ‘I have to go to him.’