Saved by Their One-Night Baby Page 18
Always and for ever.
EPILOGUE
Eight weeks later...
IN THE END Ethan had insisted on a wedding ‘as soon as bloody possible’, because he wanted to do love right, and it had almost stopped her breath just knowing how hard a man could love when he allowed himself to.
But he’d been asked to help Chase out on the ship for a few weeks so she’d moved down to Marseille to be there whenever he docked for a few hours or a glorious weekend in their hotel, and then, when he docked for the last time, what a reunion that had been.
He loved the little town house she’d found for them to live in and had settled into a job at the refugee centre and their lives had been blessed with laughter and love and baby scans, which made everything seem so much more real and exciting.
But now things were getting serious. ‘Your parents don’t mind missing this?’ Kristina pulled Claire’s long braid forward over one shoulder and then fastened a small flower into her hair. ‘Perfect. Beautiful.’
‘Oh, don’t worry, they have plans for a huge party when we go back home. But they know we wanted a private ceremony and living in a village like they do, it’d be filled to the rafters with people Ethan doesn’t even know. No, I much prefer it this way. Just us.’ She took her bridesmaid’s hand and tugged. ‘Come on.’
Kristina chortled and followed Claire down the corridor towards the city hall reception area. ‘You are one woman in a hurry.’
‘I’m getting married to the love of my life, I don’t want to waste a single minute—oh! There he is.’ He was talking to the adjoint au maire, making a joke of some kind, and they were all smiling. But when he turned to her his smile changed into something that made her heart melt. Fun and games for everyone else, but a smile so pure and honest for her.
Just looking at him in a dark navy suit and tie stole her breath away. He mouthed, ‘I love you. You are beautiful.’ And she knew, in his eyes, she was.
Then the adjoint au maire called for silence and Kristina took hold of Claire’s flowers and Chase handed over the rings and she became Mrs Reid-Durand after they’d made their vows.
‘Congratulations, you two.’ Kristina hugged them both.
‘Congratulations, Reid.’ Chase shook Ethan’s hand and she could see a growing connection between them too. She was so glad and proud of Ethan and her heart filled more than she imagined possible, but then everything became a blur because in the next breath he was kissing her and cradling her tiny but definitely-there bump.
‘This is nice and everything and I love you so much,’ he whispered.
‘I love you too.’ However, she sensed a but...
‘But I do have somewhere else I’d like to be right now.’
‘Oh? Where?’ She grinned, knowing his answer.
‘Celebrating in the lift on the way up to the honeymoon suite.’
‘We have to play nice first and then we get to play naughty later.’
‘I like the sound of that.’ He placed his hand over her bump and kissed her again. ‘I didn’t know life could be like this.’
‘And I didn’t know I could be so happy.’
But she knew, with Ethan, there would be a whole lot more to come. Adventure and excitement guaranteed.
* * *
Look out for the next story in the SOS Docs duet
Redeeming Her Brooding Surgeon by Sue MacKay
And if you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Louisa George
A Nurse to Heal His Heart
Reunited by Their Secret Son
The Nurse’s Special Delivery
Tempted by Hollywood’s Top Doc
All available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Redeeming Her Brooding Surgeon by Sue MacKay.
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Redeeming Her Brooding Surgeon
by Sue MacKay
PROLOGUE
SCREECH. THUNK. METAL hitting concrete.
Men shouting.
‘Accident!’
‘Quelqu’un est blessé!’
‘Aidez-moi!’
Bang!
A swinging metal chain swiped the crane it was attached to, swinging outward.
More shouts and yells.
‘Cherchez le médecin!’
Kristina Morton spun around and began running towards the noise, her heavy pack bouncing on her back, aggravating damaged muscles.
‘I’m a doctor,’ she shouted to the security guard standing at the steel gate accessing the wharf where a freight ship was being loaded. Tapping her chest, she said, ‘Doctor. Me.’
The man shook his head. ‘Non.’ He pointed to another ship. ‘Docteur.’
‘Oui.’ Pointing in the same direction, Kristina uttered one of about five French words she knew. ‘Yes, I’m a doctor joining that ship. Doctor.’
Rolling her shoulders back, she slid out of the straps of her pack and dug into a side pocket, handed over her wharf pass. Written in French, it did say she was a doctor. Didn’t it? She hadn’t taken a lot of notice when she’d received it along with other documents at the hotel reception desk where she’d stayed in central Marseilles last night.
The lock clanged open and the gate swung wide, allowing a man in fluorescent overalls to run frantically towards the SOS Poseidon, the Medicine For All charity ship Kristina had been bound for.
The guard called after him with urgency and Kristina took the opportunity to slip into the sealed-off area, her pack knocking against her good leg. It wasn’t hard to see what’d happened. Seventy metres along the wharf pieces of a metal cage were spread across a wide area, and from under what looked like a side of the crate protruded a pair of legs, while the man’s helmet-encased head was under the edge bar. Men were clustering around, waving their hands and yelling at each other.
‘Oh, hell.’ She ran faster, reached the men and dropped to her knees with a hard thump. Ignoring the pain that set off in her injured thigh, she shouted, ‘I’m a doctor.’ ‘Doctor’ sounded similar to the French version; surely they’d get the message? Too bad if they didn’t, she was already observing the man crushed under the steel strops meant to hold the side of the cage together, except they’d sprung apart on impact. ‘What’s his name?’ she asked without thinking, and got a surprise when someone replied.
‘Antoine. Is he unconscious?’
‘I’m not sure.’ Reaching under the metal for his wrist proved impossible, it was too far in, so she pressed a finger on his carotid. ‘Antoine, can you hear me?’ Damn. He wouldn’t understand
her. ‘Can you talk to him, see if he’s responsive?’ she asked the man who spoke English, before focusing on the pulse rate. Normal. So far so good, but still a long way to go.
She couldn’t understand what he said to Antoine but she recognised the flickering eyelids. The helmet had done its job. A quick appraisal showed blood seeping through Antoine’s trousers from his groin where a metal shaft had lodged. Her heart stuttered as the memory of a similar injury swamped her. Automatically her hand went to her thigh and rubbed down the ridge of scar tissue.
‘I told him you’re a doctor. I’ll get some men to lift this.’ The man now squatting next to her knocked the cage.
‘Get them ready, but don’t move it yet. Antoine’s bleeding. Removing the pressure could cause a haemorrhage.’ Bleeding out wasn’t an option on her watch. Not again. The guilt at not being able to prevent Corporal Higgs dying had not dissipated so much that this didn’t unnerve her. Not that she’d been in any position to help the soldier, being disabled herself, but doctors were meant to save people, no matter what. ‘I need something to make a wad to press over the bleeding.’
Moments later Kristina was handed a small bundle of shirt pieces folded into squares, while another man was tearing his shirt into strips to tie the wads in place. She wouldn’t think about the hygiene aspect, containing the bleeding was the priority.
‘Thank you. Merci.’ The odd angle of Antoine’s left leg indicated a fracture above the knee. ‘Be careful, don’t hit this when you take the grill away.’ She pointed to the rod.
‘It’s attached. It’ll pull out.’
She hadn’t noticed that. Now she’d prefer the man unconscious. He needed morphine, fast. ‘Can you send someone to the Poseidon and get a doctor to bring drugs for pain and some oxygen?’
The man looked along the wharf. ‘Someone’s coming. He’s got a bag and a small tank. Is that what you want?’
‘I hope so.’
The man was there in an instant, barely puffing despite his sprint. ‘I’m a doctor.’ He hunkered down on the opposite side of Antoine’s legs.
‘Me, too,’ Kristina told him. ‘I was headed for the Poseidon when this happened. Kristina Morton.’ She held her hand out.
His hand gripped hers briefly, firm and electric.
Shock ripped through Kristina. Rubbing her arm, she stared at him. What just happened? He’d sent fire through her veins with a handshake? Unreal. She was supposed to be focused on a man in distress, not this one with the most intriguing face she’d ever encountered.
A startled look was reflected in the dark depths of his eyes, too. Had he felt that spark? ‘Chase Barrington, SARCO.’
Shock of another kind rocked her. This was Chase? The man who caused his family heartache on a regular basis? No one had told her he was hot! ‘I met your sister when I was a locum at Merrywood Medical Centre. I finished a fortnight ago.’ His brother-in-law, Jarrod, was one of the partners there.
‘Libby told me.’ He gave her a sharp look. ‘Bring me up to speed.’ Chase was taking charge.
Typical. She’d worked with enough male doctors in masculine environments to know the signs. ‘There’s a rod intruding into Antoine’s groin that’s attached to the grill. I’m hoping you’ve got morphine in your pack.’
‘Yes, and compression pads.’ Chase nudged the kit with his foot, and focused on the man needing his attention.
Leaving Kristina to get her breath back and stop feeling flustered by Doc Barrington’s touch. She could tell him to get the pads himself, but time was of the essence, not her pride. Finding the morphine, she read the date out loud, gave the vial to her counterpart to cross-reference before drawing up a dose. Once administered, she opened packs of compression pads, ready for the grill to be lifted away.
Chase was methodically checking for further injuries on Antoine’s body without jarring the grill. No wasted movements, his lean body muscular without being heavy. Picture perfect. So not good for her pulse. Deep breath, concentrate—on Antoine, not the SARCO. But he was so distracting. She closed her eyes, opened them and watched.
Without stopping those long fingers moving over Antoine, he told her, ‘Ribs staved in, fractured femur and arm, blood loss from where the humerus protrudes, and I don’t like the look of his mouth. It’s possible he’s bitten his tongue.’ He was good, and thorough. Impressive in more ways than that magnificent body.
She nodded. ‘Let’s do this. The sooner we can get to him the better.’ It was hard not to glance at Chase for another take on those muscles shaping his loose T-shirt but she managed. Looking behind to the men waiting to help, she said, ‘On the count of three lift the grill—very slowly.’
The moment their patient was free she was pressing a pad onto the wound in his groin. ‘The femoral artery’s torn. Is there a catheter in your kit I can put in to keep the blood flow in the artery?’
‘Unfortunately not.’ Chase was gently removing the man’s helmet in preparation for putting a facemask on Antoine for the oxygen. ‘I haven’t got a neck brace either.’
Kristina continued working on the haemorrhaging, making do with what was on hand, but the sooner help arrived in the form of a well-equipped ambulance the better. ‘Has anyone called the emergency services?’
‘Oui,’ replied a man hovering in the background.
Like magic, the sound of a siren filled the air.
Kristina didn’t relax. Antoine wasn’t out of trouble by a long way.
A quick glance showed Chase working as hard, diagnosing all the injuries while keeping an eye on the man’s breathing. There was a determined look on his face that said, I am not letting you die, Antoine. Something they had in common.
But anything else? She doubted it. The little she’d heard from Libby and Jarrod indicated she and Chase were like north and south. She was looking for a place to settle down and feel as though she belonged, a place where she wouldn’t be thrown aside at anyone’s behest, while this man apparently did not have the time or inclination for stopping still. He was driven. Not that she’d been told by what.
The ambulance squealed to a halt beside them. Instantly paramedics were moving in, asking questions in rapid French she didn’t understand. Continuing monitoring their man, she left Chase to answer them.
‘How’s that bleeding?’ he asked her moments later. ‘Still bad?’
‘Yes.’ She nodded around the relief that getting Antoine to hospital fast was now happening, as long as the paramedics didn’t take too long preparing him for the trip there.
‘We’ve done all we can. The paramedics are taking charge,’ Chase said, his hands clenched on his thighs, his jaw tight, and his eyes fixed on the two men as they put a cardboard splint on the broken leg and a brace around their patient’s neck. He wanted to remain in control, was itching to continue working on Antoine.
Kristina knew that feeling but moved back, knowing she would not be thanked for doing anything else. The paramedics knew what they were doing, and were used to working without the luxury of all the equipment an emergency department came with, but couldn’t they get a hurry along? Glancing at Chase again, the same thought was reflected in his steady green gaze.
When Antoine was finally loaded into the ambulance, relief loosened the tension gripping Kristina and she was free to walk away, if only her feet would move. Staring across the now quiet wharf, her gaze fell on the ship she’d be working on for the next three months, sharing the space with a man who had her hormones in a lather already. She’d be toast by the end of her time on board.
It had been Jarrod who’d suggested she do a spell with Medicine For All, instead of taking on the locum job in the far north of Scotland she’d been half-heartedly considering.
Watching men and women walking up the gangway laden with heavy packs for the start of the next three-week stint, tiredness enveloped her. She was weary of constantly moving from place to place, loc
um position to locum position, and not having somewhere of her own to return to after each contract finished. MFA was merely another diversion. It was harder this time because she’d finally found what she’d been looking for.
The quaint town of Merrywood and its friendly folk had sucked her in, made her welcome and comfortable in a way she hadn’t known since she was ten and her family had imploded, leaving her bewildered and alone. She’d wanted to stay on, continue working at the medical centre and buy a cottage on the riverbank, only there was no job once the doctor she’d been covering for returned. However, Jarrod had told her to stay in touch and drop in when her time with MFA was up as he might know of a position for her. She planned on doing exactly that, fingers crossed and expectations high.
‘Time to go aboard and meet everyone.’ Chase stood beside her, legs tense, his eyes constantly on the move.
‘I’m looking forward to this.’ The organisation did amazing work with refugees and other people in need of medical attention in horrific parts of the world, and to be a part of it was awesome. And in case Jarrod didn’t come up with the goods, she’d have time to research small towns and medical centres in the south of England in the hope of finding that same enticing family-orientated atmosphere she’d found in Merrywood.
Why did she look to the man beside her? He wasn’t the answer to her need to settle down. From what she’d heard, Chase Barrington could no more stop in one place than he could knit a blanket for a baby.
‘What made you decide to give Medicine For All a go?’ Chase asked as they walked out of the secure area.
‘I’m getting tired of locum work. I start to feel settled and then have to pack up and leave again. Jarrod suggested MFA and how I might fit in. Once I started delving into the organisation I knew I had to give it a go and contacted Liam.’ The director had been effusive when she’d volunteered. Though again she’d be moving on afterwards.
* * *
Fit in. Chase studied the slender woman before him. Get under his skin, more like. His brother-in-law had been chuckling when he’d told Chase how Kristina Morton was perfect for the summer operation in the Mediterranean. Yes, he’d known who’d put her up to signing up and until now had had no problem with it. All doctors were welcome any time. But now Chase had to question what fates had put this doctor on this mission. ‘You want to get away from GP work?’