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The Surgeon's Special Delivery
Fiona Lowe
From top-notch doc to daddy!Dr Tess Dalton couldn't wait to give her two closest friends the greatest gift - a baby of their own. But when tragedy strikes, Tess finds herself alone, carrying her friends' baby… Enter the baby's uncle, Callum Halroyd, leading surgeon and dedicated bachelor.Returning to the Outback for the sake of his family, he's shocked to meet Tess… and to discover she's about to give birth to his nephew! Becoming an adoptive dad certainly wasn't in Cal's plan! But newborn Oscar and beautiful, vibrant Tess make Cal reassess everything… Soon he realises just how much he wants to give Tess and the baby the love and care they so very much deserve…
Cal let out a breath and relief cascaded through him, immediately chased out by wonder and awe. His heart suddenly expanded—he’d just assisted this little miracle into the world. This tiny child. My nephew.
‘Is he all right?’ Tess’s weary voice asked the universal question.
He tried to speak, but the words felt trapped and he coughed to clear his throat. ‘We’ve got a baby boy, here.’ He placed the baby into Tess’s exhausted arms, so she could snuggle the child against her chest and warm him with her body heat.
Tess glanced up, smiling, and immediately reached out her hand, gripping his forearm. ‘Thank you so much for being here, for catching Oscar. I couldn’t have done it without you.’
The rays of her radiant beam flowed over Cal like spring sunshine, warming him in places he hadn’t known had been cold.
‘I wouldn’t have missed this for anything.’ His words came out spontaneously, their truth catching him by surprise. Two days ago he hadn’t even met Tess, had had no idea his nephew existed, and now he’d delivered him safely into the world. The feeling was indescribable.
Dear Reader
The definition of family is something that is continually evolving. In some countries, especially in rural communities, a family is multigenerational, living and working together on the land. In Australia in the 1950s ‘family’ usually referred to the nuclear family—two parents and a couple of kids or more.
Today, the word ‘family’ is accepted as meaning any combination of related adults and children—sole parent and child, grandparents raising grandchildren, single sex couples raising children, and couples adopting children from overseas. Some couples face more obstacles than others in creating their longed-for family, and that is how the idea for THE SURGEON’S SPECIAL DELIVERY came about.
I hope you enjoy Tess and Callum’s story as they deal with a life-altering event that throws them together in ways they could never have imagined. The fall-out is challenging, cataclysmic and life-affirming.
Write and let me know what you think: fiona@fionalowe.com (mailto:fiona@fionalowe.com)
Happy reading!
Love
Fiona x
Always an avid reader, Fiona Lowe decided to combine her love of romance with her interest in all things medical, so writing Medical™ Romance was an obvious choice! She lives in a seaside town in southern Australia, where she juggles writing, reading, working and raising two gorgeous sons, with the support of her own real-life hero! You can visit Fiona’s website at www.fionalowe.com (http://www.fionalowe.com)
The Surgeon’s Special Delivery
Fiona Lowe
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To Paul for his enthusiastic help, technical details, poetic descriptions and his friendship.
And to Cameron and Andrew for always patiently answering my questions—it’s much appreciated!
CONTENTS
Prologue (#u0b012eeb-dba2-5ef7-a58e-a2de078ea1fb)
Chapter One (#uc2de5d1a-d15f-5b5f-860a-9fbdaba05337)
Chapter Two (#u95b0e444-1124-5d28-81df-88fa98538d2b)
Chapter Three (#u4a841886-3bfb-50b1-99bd-0d4253224b30)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
PROLOGUE
‘IT’S a boy.’
The radiographer directed the pointer to the telling piece of anatomy on the ultrasound screen, as the fuzzy grey and white image of a baby floating lazily in its cocoon of fluid came into focus.
A squeal of joy erupted, bouncing off the white hospital walls and embracing every person in the room.
From her prone position on the examination table, Tess Dalton smiled up at the ecstatic couple that squeezed her hands tightly as they kissed each other over her rounded pregnant belly.
Tess’s heart threatened to explode from elation. The two people she loved most in the world were finally going to have the child they’d waited so long for, and she was part of this gift of life to them. Part of their family. It was the most fantastic experience of her life.
She grinned. ‘So, I’m going to have an honorary nephew. I’ll have to learn boy things.’
The couple immediately broke apart and dropped down to her level, simultaneously kissing her on both cheeks, their tears of happiness dampening her skin.
James Halroyd was the first to pull away, clearing his throat gruffly. ‘Just as well you’re up for the job of honorary auntie, Tess, because his biological uncle isn’t exactly the “kick a footy to the kid” type of guy. He’s too busy off saving the world.’
Carolyn Halroyd wiped her eyes and patted Tess’s swollen belly. ‘Oh, Tess, we can’t thank you enough for being our surrogate.’
Tess squeezed her best friend’s hand. ‘I’m honoured to do it. Besides, you’re the sister I never had. Without you I wouldn’t have even finished high school, let alone qualified as a doctor, so stop thanking me. I should be the one thanking you.’
Carolyn gave a giant sniff and a watery smile. ‘You’re going to be the best auntie Oscar could ever have.’
‘Oscar.’ Tess patted her stomach, the newly named foetus immediately morphing into his own personality. ‘One thing is for sure, kid, you’re going to grow up surrounded by love.’
CHAPTER ONE
‘DOCTOR, I have bad news.’
Callum Halroyd’s talented hands stilled on the mess that had until an hour ago been a young man’s leg, but that had been before a mortar had shattered it into pulp. This was Cal’s fifth operation since dawn and the sun had only just hit its highest point. As an experienced surgeon with Frontline Aid, and with the muffled explosions of war sounding in the distance, he was pretty certain he’d still be operating when dusk had disappeared into darkness.
He glanced up over the top of his surgical mask, his mouth twitching into a smile. He always smiled when he saw Jenny Patton. An experienced Frontline nurse, she had the typical dry Australian wit that described every situation in ironic understatement. ‘Don’t tell me, we’ve run out of coffee.’
Fully scrubbed, she walked over to him, her usually laughing hazel eyes strangely sombre. ‘The coffee supply is safe.’
‘That’s good to know.’ But a streak of cold shot through him quickly, its tendrils remaining, hovering like mist. He shrugged off the feeling and blasted a bleeding capillary with heat from the diathermy.
She stepped in next to him, dextrously applying suction to keep the bloodied area clear. ‘Jenson Armand’s scrubbing in for you. He’s just gloving up now.’
The quipping Jenny had vanished. The cold started to circle his heart. ‘What the hell for? I have more vascular experience than he does.’ He thrust out his hand. ‘More packs.’ The words shot from his mouth more like a command than a request as he tried to push his mounting unease aside.
Jenny handed him the gauze, her gaze seeking his. ‘I’m really sorry, Cal, there’s no easy way to tell you this.’ She sighed out a long breath before breathing in deeply. ‘We’ve just heard from Australia. Your brother, James, he was in an accident and he’s…’
The circling cold turned into an icy grip, snatching at his heart. ‘He’s what?’
She blinked rapidly. ‘He died yesterday, along with his wife. You need to go home. I’ve got you on a helicopter out of here to connect with an international flight. You leave in thirty minutes.’
The roar of blood in his head instantly drowned out the sounds of gunfire. His hands shook as he deftly created a stump for a future prosthesis.
James was dead. His brain struggled to come to terms with the fact that his twin brother no longer lived.
‘You’ll be home in twenty-four hours,’ Jenny reassured him. ‘Your parents will meet you at Melbourne Airport.’
Home. He shook his head. At some point in the last few years Australia had ceased to be home. Instead, it had become a place to visit on holidays, and now it was calling him back for a funeral. He wasn’t sure Australia could ever be home again.
* * *
Tess wandered around Carolyn and James’s strangely quiet house, desperately missing the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, the hum of Carolyn’s sewing machine and the happy off-key whistle that meant James was close at hand. Blinking back tears, she sat down hard on the couch and cradled her very pregnant belly. ‘Oh, baby boy, life is so not fair.’
She knew all about ‘not fair’ but she’d hoped this child wouldn’t have to experience it. Leaning back into the soft cushions, she tried to marshal her chaotic thoughts as fatigue broke over her like surf. The outback township of Narranbool had ground to a halt, united in its grief for its beloved GP and his talented wife Carolyn, who had dressed them so stylishly for weddings, debuts, the Narranbool Cup and every other social occasion in between. No matter what their height, weight or proportions, Carolyn’s skill had been making everyone look and feel gorgeous.
Tomorrow’s funeral had been organised from Melbourne by James’s family, but the town had taken control of the wake, needing to show their love and appreciation for two very special people. Tess knew that in true country style grief would be well fed with cream sponges, pavlova, asparagus rolls and tea.
She rubbed her belly as Oscar kicked hard against her hand. Carolyn had no known relatives, but James had parents. Parents who didn’t yet know about their unborn grandson.
Tess had to tell them but had balked at doing it over the phone. Hi, I’m Tess. You don’t know me and by the way I’m pregnant with your grandson but I’m not the biological mother. No, it was something she had to do in person when the Halroyds arrived in town. She’d do it tomorrow, immediately after the funeral.
Organised…by James’s family. Being organised by James’s family was something she was going to have to deal with. A long sigh shuddered out of her lungs as she tried to give herself a pep talk. Giving up Oscar to his grandparents was no different from giving him up to Carolyn and James.
Yes it is! A traitorous thought that had been gaining volume for two days thundered inside her head.
Pulling herself together, she stared it down hard.
For two days she’d experienced fantasy moments of pretending that Oscar was her own baby. But, of course, he wasn’t. He was a Halroyd and she couldn’t deny Oscar his birthright. She knew what it was like to grow up without a family. She was intimate with that sense of needing to belong to someone and never having that need filled.
Carolyn and James had been her family for three short years but now they were gone. Their child grew inside her belly, but as a surrogate she had to give him up to his biological family, severing the last connection she had with her dearest friends. Perhaps severing the connection with a child she’d expected to watch grow up and have over for sleepovers. She would fight to stay in touch but what real claim did she have?
Her fragile cocoon of happiness, spun over the last year, had splintered into jagged shards the moment the road train had ploughed headlong into James and Carolyn’s car.
Her throat tightened for the hundredth time that day and she blew out a long breath. Thankfully, dealing with the Halroyds was another sixteen hours away. Far enough away to pretend it might not happen, that Oscar could still be hers. ‘Tomorrow never comes, right, mate?’ She patted Oscar’s kicking foot, deluding herself a bit longer.
She needed a strong drink but she couldn’t have one so Tim Tams would have to do. Hauling herself off of the couch, she waddled through the now dark house into the kitchen. Moonlight filtered through the window while she filled the kettle, the darkness unable to dent the late summer heat that hung torpidly over everything. As she flicked off the tap, the outside sensor lamp burst into light, illuminating the back entrance.
‘Hey, BJ, are you hungry?’ Tess glanced at the cat door, expecting Carolyn’s stately black and white cat to step through and give her his usual disdainful look.
The flap stayed perfectly still.
The scrape of a key in the lock sent a prickle of alarm scudding through her. No one else had a key. Who could possibly be coming into the house? With her heart pounding hard against her ribs, she reached for the knife block with one hand and the phone with the other.
The back door partially opened and with an indignant miaow the cat shot into the kitchen as if he’d been stepped on.
‘Bloody cat.’ A deep voice sounded against the clatter of keys hitting the concrete step.
Tess stifled a scream and immediately dropped the phone. Grabbing the torch from the bench, she pressed down the black switch and swung it wildly toward the door.
‘Don’t take another step!’ Tess’s voice sounded far more in control than she felt.
The door opened fully, revealing a tall man whose broad shoulders nearly filled the doorway. He immediately put his hand up to his forehead, shielding his eyes from the brilliant light of the torch. His other hand groped the architrave, his long, lean fingers finding and pressing the white plastic light switch as if he had prior knowledge of the house. Light flooded the kitchen.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.’
His baritone voice rolled around her, smooth and soothing, like Swiss chocolate melting on her tongue. ‘Haven’t you heard of a doorbell?’ Tess’s hand shook and the torchlight bounced around, now overcome by the main light.
His lips formed a tight smile, exhaustion lining the deep brackets around his mouth. ‘I assumed the house was empty.’
Piercing grey eyes ringed with thick, long lashes caught her gaze, sending a wave of unexpected heat thudding through her. Her heart jumped into her throat as confusion clawed at her, and her brain shot into overdrive, trying to make sense of it all. Surely the real-estate agents weren’t dealing with the estate already? And if he was an agent, he wasn’t from Narranbool because she knew Collin Smithon well. Yet there was an air of familiarity about him.
She pulled herself up to her full height of five feet eleven and tried to look imposing and in command despite being eight and a half months pregnant. Dusting off her imperious doctor’s voice, which she hadn’t used in a long time, she straightened her shoulders. ‘Who are you and why do you have a key?’
He tilted his head to the side, the light picking up streaks of silver in his jet-black hair. His high cheekbones carried the gauntness of fatigue and black stubble lined his strong jaw, giving him a renegade look. For the second time in as many minutes his gaze zeroed in on her as if he was seeing past her face and down into her essence, the place she kept hidden away. Goosebumps tangoed with sweat as hot and cold simultaneously raced through her.
He didn’t move from the doorway but his innate aura of command radiated through his posture and his voice. ‘I’m Callum Halroyd. Who are you and why are you in my brother’s house?’
Tess stared in disbelief at the man she’d heard scant mention of and had never met. Blood rushed from her head as her last window of make-believe vanished before her eyes. Tomorrow had just arrived.
* * *
Cal gazed at the heavily pregnant woman in front of him and watched the blood drain from her elfin face. Hell, he’d scared the living daylights out of her. Striding into the kitchen, he pulled out a chair. ‘Perhaps you should sit down.’
The woman stayed where she was, swaying slightly, her hand curled tightly around the turn of the bench.
Damn it, the last thing he needed after a twenty-four-hour flight, ninety minutes in a helicopter and a heart-breaking time with his aging and grief-stricken parents, was a pregnant woman fainting on him. He moved slowly toward her, his palms open in a conciliatory gesture. ‘Please, you really do need to sit down.’ He gently put his hand over hers, planning to release her fingers so he could guide her into the chair.
An unexpected blast of heat burst through him as his palm connected with the back of her hand. That was strange and unexpected. Jet-lag and grief had obviously affected his body’s thermostat.
She quickly pulled her hand out from under his. ‘Thanks, I’ll be fine once I sit down.’
As she turned toward the proffered chair, strands of short honey-blonde hair swept across his cheek, trailing a scent of fresh coconut and tropical fruits. He had the craziest desire to close his eyes and breathe in deeply to banish the scent of war and pain that had taken up residence without him realising it.
He gave himself a shake and quickly filled a glass with water.
She spoke softly. ‘So you’re James’s brother?’
‘Yes, I think we established that.’ He offered the glass to the unknown woman. ‘And you are…?’
She accepted the glass with her left hand and he realised she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Still, pregnant women often had to remove their rings due to fluid accumulation so that meant very little.
Wide brown eyes appraised him while she slowly sipped her water, the action disconcerting him. He wasn’t used to being kept waiting. He was a surgeon—he called the shots and everyone else jumped.
She lowered her glass and placed it on the bench, before reaching out and touching his arm. ‘I’m so very sorry for your loss.’
My loss. He rubbed his forehead, rubbing the ache that had permanently throbbed since he’d heard the news.
‘James and Carolyn were my dearest friends and I’ve been staying with them for a few months while…’ She blinked rapidly.
He stifled a sigh. Typical James. He took in waifs and strays and Carolyn actively encouraged him. Now, as well as sorting out the estate, he had a pregnant, homeless woman on his hands. Yet another thing for him to organise as there was no way his parents were up to it.
He’d hardly recognised them at the airport. It was like they’d had the stuffing knocked out of them. Normally sheer energy and drive radiated from both of them, the characteristics that had made them millions from self-storage. But his usually in-control father had deferred every decision to Cal and his mother had just sat stoically silent, holding her husband’s hand.
He cleared his throat. ‘What about a cup of tea? God knows, I need one.’
A quiet smile stole across her heart-shaped face. ‘Thank you, that would be lovely. White, no sugar, please. The tea’s in the canister by the kettle.’
‘And I remember that three years ago the cups were kept in the cupboard over the sink.’
She nodded. ‘They’re still there.’
He plugged in the kettle and spied the partially opened Tim Tams. He smiled at the memory of the luscious chocolate biscuit that his mother would allow to celebrate gold stars on homework. ‘I haven’t had a Tim Tam in years.’
She arched her eyebrows in mock horror. ‘Why on earth not? They’re the panacea for all ills.’
He heard himself laugh and a kernel of feeling other than sorrow opened up inside him. ‘I haven’t been living in places where supermarkets stock them. Actually, I haven’t been living in places with supermarkets, full stop.’ The kettle shut off and he poured the boiling water over the fragrant leaves.
‘Where have you come from?’
He caught her gaze on his rumpled clothes. ‘Africa.’
She smiled, her eyes taking on the warm hues of polished oak. ‘James said you were busy saving the world.’
His hand tightened on the handle of the teapot as he poured the aromatic brew into fine, white cups, her words bringing back the last fraught conversation he and James had shared over three years ago. He didn’t want to think about that. Not now.
‘Well, I don’t know about saving the world but I work for Frontline Aid. I go where I’m needed.’
‘And now you’re needed here.’ She ran her hand over her swollen belly, in a caress than radiated love.
A sense of unease that he couldn’t explain burrowed into him, pushing deep. ‘I’m just here for the funeral and to help execute the will, although one of Dad’s company lawyers can handle most of it. That’s why I left Mum and Dad at the motel and came over to the house tonight. I need to find James’s will and get the ball rolling.’ He placed her steaming cup on the bench next to her.
She bit her lip, as her high forehead creased in thought. ‘So once you’ve seen to that, you’ll leave? What about your parents?’
He frowned, not liking her accusatory tone. She surely had enough to worry about with her own situation without judging him. ‘I’ll certainly spend some time with my parents but they understand my work is overseas.’
She traced the handle of her cup with her forefinger. ‘So there’s nothing to keep you here?’
‘In Narranbool?’ He laughed, unable to hide his derision. ‘Not bloody likely.’ Narranbool with its heat, dust and shrivelled wheat crops had been James’s choice—one he himself had never understood.
Her shoulders stiffened and her chin tilted up as she shot him a look that reminded him so much of James and Carolyn that she could have been channelling them.
Contrition niggled at him and he sighed. ‘Look, I’m sorry, but small country towns and I are not a match. In fact, Australia and I are no longer a match, and I’m not sure we ever really were. For as long as I can remember I’ve looked beyond this “wide brown land”, I’m an expat through and through.’
She nodded slowly and then grazed her plump bottom lip with her top teeth.
Try as he may to pull his gaze away, it stayed riveted on the moist lushness. What would those rosy lips taste like?
The random thought shocked him. It was official—exhaustion had made him lose control of all common sense. He was a world-renowned trauma surgeon. He didn’t lust after homeless, pregnant women.
She sipped her tea, her expression thoughtful. ‘What if you had a nephew—would you stay then?’
Surely her child wasn’t James’s? He immediately shook away the uncharitable thought. His brother had loved his wife dearly, so much, in fact, that he’d given up plenty to be with her. No, this woman in front of him was pregnant by someone else, homeless and distraught from the shock of losing her philanthropists, which was why she was making no sense at all.
He leaned forward, talking slowly as if he was explaining complicated surgery in layman’s terms. ‘James and Carolyn couldn’t have and didn’t have any children. Now, as my twin and only sibling is dead, the chances of me being an uncle are impossible.’
She folded her hands on top of her belly and calm serenity washed over her. ‘James and Carolyn have a child.’
His head pounded. The urge to dismiss her words as irrational ramblings couldn’t still the disquiet, which grew like a tumour pressing on his chest. ‘That’s impossible. I would have known, he would have told me, my parents would have told me.’
She sat in front of him completely unruffled. ‘They don’t know yet. I was going to tell them tomorrow when I met them.’
Her quiet yet determined words blasted into him as the floor seemed to fall away from under his feet and the world tilted despite him being seated. He struggled to make sense of it all. ‘Who are you really?’
‘I’m Dr Tess Dalton, the surrogate mother of James’s and Carolyn’s son.’
CHAPTER TWO
A SURROGATE.
Cal stood up, needing to move, needing to pace, needing to do something. His rampaging thoughts battered his already overloaded brain, which struggled to absorb the astonishing news. A child.
An apologetic expression passed over Tess’s face. ‘I’m sorry to totally stun you like that but there’s no shockproof way of delivering the news.’ She hauled herself out of the chair and picked up the packet of Tim Tams. ‘Here, take them all. You look like you need them more than I do.’
Caught in her understanding gaze, he distractedly bit into a biscuit. It tasted like cardboard, his body unable to experience anything other than shock. He was going to be an uncle.
The uncle of an orphan. The realisation thundered through him as he spun away from her and continued pacing. He suddenly stopped and swung back, taking a really close look at Tess. Her honey smooth skin shone with lustrous good health and her egg-blue singlet curved over voluptuous breasts. Heated blood shot through him, straight to his groin.
Stunned by his reaction, he pulled his gaze to her belly, forcing the doctor in him to appraise the pregnancy, which she carried low.
Primigravidas may experience lightening and engagement at thirty-six weeks. The information he’d absorbed long ago when he’d been a medical student pushed up from the recesses of his mind and forced down the unwanted lust. ‘Exactly when is the baby due?’
She brushed back her fringe. ‘I’m thirty-seven weeks.’
‘So you’re due any day.’ He couldn’t stop the rising inflection of his voice as an edge of panic tightened his chest.
She smiled her quiet, serene smile. ‘Or in three weeks’ time, yes.’
He ran his hand frantically through his hair as if that would help him make sense of it all. Yesterday his world had been familiar. Today it was as if he’d landed on an alien planet.
Unspoken thoughts tumbled from his mouth. ‘But I don’t understand. Why didn’t we know?’
You hadn’t spoken to your brother in three years, since you accused him of throwing away his life. He ignored the voice of reason. ‘James could have at least told our parents. Hell, they live in the same country.’
Sympathy wove across her cheeks. ‘James and Carolyn wanted your parents to meet, hold and love Oscar before—’
He started. ‘Is that the child’s name?’ It triggered a faint memory from his childhood—the imaginary friend he and James had created to solve disputes between them.
‘Yes. Oscar Callum.’
Guilt ripped at Callum and he tried to shrug it off. ‘You were saying they wanted mum and dad to meet him before what?’
She sucked in her cheeks. ‘Before they learned of his unorthodox birth.’ Her gaze dropped away. ‘Before the press got wind of it.’
The money. Dad’s money. It was an inescapable fact that the Halroyd millions often generated intense media interest and it was no secret that James had taken a low profile to avoid media intrusion in his life. He stared at the woman in front of him, struck by a sudden thought. ‘Is there money involved?’
Her chin tilted up sharply. ‘It’s exactly that attitude which made Carolyn and James decide to hold off telling you. Money played no part in this. I did it out of love.’
If gold sparks were daggers, her eyes would have knifed him clean through the heart. Love. He swallowed a groan. He didn’t believe in love. His job didn’t allow for it and Felicity had crushed any remaining thoughts. But now wasn’t the time for a philosophical discussion about whether love existed or not.
A baby was coming into his family in the next few weeks and nothing he could do would change that. Every plan he’d made for the immediate future swirled in his mind like dust in the wind, being carried further and further away from him. He wanted to put his hand out and grab on tight to all his arrangements but there was nothing to hold onto. Everything had changed.
He sucked in a deep breath and slowly all the confusion in his mind cleared. This was no different from triage at Frontline. Decisions had to be made and priorities needed to be set. He knew immediately what he had to do.
Tess could almost see the cogs of Callum’s mind working behind those enigmatic dark grey eyes. As tall as James was short and as dark as James had been fair, Callum was the physical opposite of his fraternal twin. But the differences didn’t stop there.
James had never made her heart pound or her stomach somersault. He’d been her best friend’s husband, a kind man, a great doctor and the brother she’d never had. She thought back to her ill-fated relationship with Curtis. Not even in their halcyon early days had she ever felt quite this weirdly agitated and tingly.
She pushed away these new sensations and focused on what she knew about Callum, which wasn’t much as James had only ever mentioned him in passing. His biological uncle isn’t exactly the ‘kick a footy to the kid’ type of guy.
Callum’s suddenly brisk, businesslike voice broke into her thoughts. ‘So you’re booked into the Women’s Hospital in Melbourne to have my nephew?’
The ‘take-charge’ doctor had replaced the bewildered man and his question surprised her. ‘Ah, no, I planned to have the baby here.’
He raised his black brows. ‘So Narranbool Bush Hospital has acquired a neonatal intensive care unit since I last visited.’
She ignored his sarcasm. ‘Narranbool District Hospital has probably lost beds since you were last in the country. It’s a constant battle to keep country hospitals open, accredited and debt free. With sixty births a year we hardly qualify for an NICU.’
He folded his arms, his eyes darkening. ‘My point exactly. We need to get you down to Melbourne tomorrow as soon as the funeral is over. You can stay in the east wing of my parents’ house in Toorak and then you’re close to the Women’s when you go into labour.’
Her blood pounded in her head as her hands started to shake. She fisted them closed to steady them against the cocktail of emotions that pounded her. Her worst fear of what Carolyn had always jokingly referred to as ‘Halroyd organisation’ was swinging into action faster than she’d thought possible.
She kept her voice steady against all her fears about the Halroyds taking over that had plagued her from the moment she’d learned of her friends’ deaths. She was a surrogate, not family. ‘I don’t want to stay in the east wing.’
He frowned, momentarily nonplussed. ‘I don’t understand. It’s independent of the rest of the house and has everything you could possibly need for your confinement. Besides, my parents wouldn’t hear of you staying in a hotel and you won’t be inconveniencing them at all if that’s your concern.’
His determination and authoritative tone slammed into her like a truck hitting a brick wall. ‘Look, it’s very kind of you to offer but—’
‘It’s not a matter of kindness, it’s the best thing to do.’ His matter-of-fact voice brooked no argument.
‘The best thing?’ She failed to keep the incredulity out of her voice. ‘I can’t just up and leave Narranbool.’
‘Why on earth not?’ The derision in his voice matched the perplexity on his face.
Because I’m the only doctor here. But she knew telling him that wasn’t going to help her cause to stay in town and have Oscar. She’d just have to hope he would respect the wishes of his brother. She cradled her hands under her stomach. ‘James and Carolyn wanted to have the baby here and I’m going to respect their wishes.’
His brow creased in confusion. ‘So there’s another doctor in Narranbool with obstetric qualifications?’
She skirted the question. ‘I’ve got my diploma in obstetrics.’
The creases deepened. ‘No matter how talented a doctor you are, Tess, you cannot deliver the baby.’ He pressed his palms down onto the scoured wooden benchtop and leaned forward, the muscles in his arms taut with tension. ‘Who is going to deliver my nephew?’ His quiet words hung between them.
My nephew. His family. Oscar’s family. She hesitated as if she teetered on the very tip of a steep mountain, knowing that no matter which way she moved, she would tumble and fall. Fall into his plan of going to Melbourne. She met his piercing gaze. ‘The midwives are experts in healthy, straightforward labours and—’
‘But James isn’t here to act as back-up.’ Callum’s softly spoken words exposed the flaw that now made the original plan less workable if complications did arise.
For three days she’d been on the phone, following leads for another doctor with obstetric qualifications, but all conversations had ended in ‘No’. But she hadn’t given up hope; she still had time to find someone. Like all other outback women before her, she wanted to have her baby in her town and Oscar deserved to be born in the place his parents had adored.
She plastered what she hoped was a reassuring smile on her face. ‘But I’m healthy and the baby is healthy so the chances of me needing a doctor are pretty slim. Worst case scenario, we’re a short helicopter ride to Mildura which is a lot better than women in Africa—’
‘But we’re not in Africa, we’re in Australia.’ His previously warm voice had chilled to a stony determination.
‘Yes, we’re in Australia, and as I pointed out I have access to emergency care if it’s needed. There are other pregnant women in this town, Callum, and I’m not suggesting to them that they all decamp to Melbourne.’
A flash of sorrow flared in his eyes before a muscle in his jaw twitched. ‘Your job is to safeguard my nephew and I want you giving birth with the full suite of backup that modern medicine can offer on the other side of the double doors.’
She stared at his implacable stance, his mouth set in a firm line and his arms crossed over his broad chest. Knowing that exhaustion, grief and pain were driving him, she swallowed her biting retort that she would never put his nephew at risk either. Wearily she pushed at her fringe with her fingers and stalled. ‘Let’s talk about this tomorrow, after a night’s sleep, after the funeral.’
‘There’s nothing more to talk about.’
She sighed. ‘There are so many things to talk about.’ Like the fact that if I leave town, Narranbool has no doctor. The unmistakeable ring of her mobile interrupted her. She glanced at the display. ‘Excuse me, I have to take this call.’ She punched the green button. ‘Tess Dalton speaking.’
She listened carefully as Rosie Whitherton, the director of nursing at the hospital, told her that a patient had arrived and needed to see her.
‘I’ll be right there.’ She snapped her phone shut, relief surging through her that work would definitely end this conversation with Callum. ‘I’m sorry, but I have to go.’ She hunted around for her car keys, which always sank into the furthest corner of her voluminous tote bag.
‘Go where?’ His body rippled with alertness as if a ‘go’ button had just been pushed, locking down all his previous emotions.
‘To work.’ Her fingers touched every possible handbag item except the cool metal of keys. ‘There’s an emergency at the hospital.’
‘You’re on call?’ Surprise spun along his cheeks, vanishing almost as quickly as it had arrived.
She held her breath, hoping it was a rhetorical question, wanting to keep her cover until the last possible moment.
He shrugged and picked up his keys. ‘I’ll come with you.’
Astonishment flipped her stomach. She needed a break from this conversation and she didn’t need Callum Halroyd with his intense stare and his questioning and organising demeanour entering her professional domain. He disconcerted her enough in the kitchen, let alone in A and E.
She started lifting newspapers, still searching for her keys. ‘But you’re exhausted. Shouldn’t you get some sleep?’
He exhaled a ragged breath and hooked her gaze. ‘Have you slept since you heard the news?’
She bit her lip and shook her head. ‘Point taken.’ He needed work as much as she did right now and she couldn’t insist that he stay behind.
Abandoning her key hunt completely, she swung her bag over her shoulder and strode purposefully to the door as much as a pregnant woman could stride. As her hand grasped the doorknob she turned back toward Callum, catching his resolute expression, which contrasted starkly with an unexpected glint in his dark eyes.
Excitement? She suddenly saw him in a different light. Instead of grief being front and centre, an overlay of anticipation shimmered around him. Was Callum an adrenaline junkie? A doctor who worked in war zones as much for himself as for patients. Did work excite him? The thought coiled through her, settling in the back of her mind to be re-examined later.
‘Let’s go.’ She stepped into the hot night, half dreading and half looking forward to working with this enigmatic man.
And that scared the hell out of her.
* * *
Callum assessed the small emergency department of Narranbool District Hospital through the glass panel of the door and sighed. How had James stood working in this two-horse town? The equipment looked older than some of the gear he used in Africa.
Rosie, the DON, had greeted him and Tess with open arms and an apologetic grimace, and had immediately disappeared back to the nursing home to check on a patient. Typical country medicine—under-resourced, understaffed and underwhelming. Bush hospitals had become glorified nursing homes as mainstream surgical procedures were removed to the capital cities and larger regional centres, which had all the up-to-date equipment.
The trip to the hospital had been quick and silent, with the exception of Tess’s husky voice giving navigating instructions. To shut out lust, Callum had made lists in his head of the things he had to organise, including pulling in a favour from a mate who was an obstetrician in Melbourne. The sooner Tess was in Melbourne the better.
Then he could relax.
He ignored the faint voice in his head that he was overreacting, that Tess was right about the safety of giving birth in Narranbool and that he was medicalising childbirth. James was dead and nothing he could do would change that. But he could do everything possible to safeguard James’s son.
He rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger. And there was still the problem of his parents. He had no idea how to gently tell two shocked sixty-five-year-olds that they were soon to be grandparents.
Tess grabbed a couple of gowns off the linen trolley, the soft fabaric of her shorts tightening on her behind.
His gaze fixed itself on the plump roundness, his mind immediately imagining how his hands would feel curved against the softness. You’re gawking at a pregnant woman. Now, that’s really classy.
Tess turned, the expression in her chocolate eyes quizzical as she tossed him a gown. ‘Here—catch.’
Her words brought him instantly back to the A and E. Abandoning his lustful thoughts, he immediately became the doctor. ‘What do we know about this patient?’
Tess picked up the beige history folder with the distinctive colour-coded spine that was used in most hospitals around the country. ‘Rosie said he’s a relative of a local family, visiting from Perth. He hasn’t been feeling well since dinner and has complained of heartburn.’
‘That’s the emergency?’ He tugged on his gown and sighed. ‘He probably just needs some antacid and a lecture on the evils of overeating.’
‘You were the one who wanted to come to the hospital.’ She gave him an arch look. ‘We could wish him a myocardial infarction if that’s more exciting for you.’
Her barb hit with unerring accuracy. He loved the rush of an emergency, of dealing with the unknown, having to think on his feet and being just one step ahead of disaster. ‘Sorry. GP work just isn’t me.’
‘No? Really? I would never have guessed.’ Her wide mouth curved up into a smile that raced directly to her eyes, giving her a teasing, sassy look. ‘But you’re here now, action man, so follow me and watch and learn how to talk to a patient who is actually awake.’
Action man. A delicious sensation of warmth unexpectedly scudded through him. His staff at Frontline were fabulous but in Theatre he was the boss and no one ever questioned him. No one ever teased him.
As she walked away from him, an involuntary sound erupted from his throat which he recognised as laughter. A flare of something akin to happiness lightened his chest for a moment before shrinking but not completely fading. He followed her through the double doors toward the source of noise.
‘You need to wait in the waiting area and we will call you back when he’s seen the doctor.’ A tired voice sounded over the clamour of many talking at once.
‘But he’s my brother.’ A woman’s voice rose in agitation, while her pudgy hands gesticulated, sending her many bracelets jangling.
Relatives. They were another reason why he’d become a surgeon. By the time he got to speak to relatives, other staff had usually calmed them down, and after he’d spoken to them briefly, his registrar followed up, answering any other questions.
Callum recognised the distinctive white and blue uniform of a nurse who turned toward them at the sound of the door, relief clear on her face.
‘Tess, I’ve done baseline observations on Mr Renaldo and he’s pretty uncomfortable with epigastric pain.’
‘Thanks, Esther. Mr Halroyd and I will sort him out.’
The middle-aged woman nodded slowly as she took a head-to-toe look at Callum, interest and curiosity bold in her eyes. She turned back to the relatives. ‘The doctors are here now and everyone needs to leave.’ She pointed to the door and started herding the crowd back to the waiting area affectionately known as chairs.
Tess winked at him. ‘Within the hour all of Narranbool will know you’re here. Esther is a great nurse and a great communicator.’
His jaw tightened at the accepted small-town culture. ‘Hmm, that sounds like code for gossip. It probably comes from not having enough to do.’
Tess frowned, her mouth opening slightly before closing into a thin line. With a slight roll of her shoulders she walked into the examination room.
‘Mr Renaldo, I’m Tess Dalton and this is Mr Callum Halroyd. He’s visiting Narranbool, just like you are.’ Tess gave a welcoming smile to their patient.
The pale man propped up on white pillows mustered a smile as the ECG monitor he was connected to beeped reassuringly. ‘Call me Vince.’
Callum nodded in acknowledgement of the greeting.
‘So what’s brought you in, Vince?’ Tess rested the chart board on top of her bump.
‘My sister’s cooking!’ He gave a wry smile. ‘To be fair, I haven’t felt that great since I arrived and tonight the heartburn just got to me.’
Tess’s face expressed sympathy as she rubbed her sternum. ‘I know what you mean. I’m looking forward to eating a curry without revisiting it all night.’
Callum’s patience strained to the breaking point. Small talk had never been his thing which was yet another reason why he’d chosen surgery. By now he would have asked for specific symptoms and be moving into the examination. James had been the member of the family who’d enjoyed a chat, not him.
Tess continued. ‘Is the heartburn just after meals?’
Vince shook his head. ‘It’s been pretty constant and I haven’t been eating much lately. Haven’t really felt like it.’
‘What’s different about today that made you come to hospital?’ Tess rubbed her back.
Callum caught the action and wondered again why she was still on the on-call roster. Surely the registrar could have taken this case.
Vince grimaced and spoke between quick breaths. ‘Today’s a lot worse. I feel really crook, like I’m going to hurl, and I’ve got gut-ache too.’ He gripped the bowl Esther had given him, his knuckles white against the metal.
‘Have you vomited today?’
Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. ‘No, but I’ve had some diarrhoea and I dunno what my sister cooked but it was as black as tar!’
Tess immediately glanced over their patient’s head and caught Callum’s gaze, her brown eyes full of concern. Black bowel motions meant blood.
Callum reached for the stethoscope that hung over the top of the BP machine, planning to hand it to Tess.
‘Vince, we need to examine you and I’m going to ask Callum to do that while I insert an intravenous drip into your arm. When the nurse took your temperature it was up, and it’s always good to have some extra fluids on board when you have a fever.’
And when there’s a possibility that you’re bleeding internally. Tess knew her stuff and had swung into a team action approach. He couldn’t fault her decision and the thrill of excitement he got from work kicked in.
‘If you can lie down for me, I’ll palpate your abdomen.’ Callum put the stethoscope around his neck.
Vince’s expression became confused. ‘Do what?’
Tess raised her brows at Callum, a dimple appearing briefly in one cheek. Almost as quickly the muscles in her face schooled themselves into impassivity and she looked directly at Mr Renaldo. ‘He’s going to gently press your stomach to see if it’s tender.’
The patient’s brow immediately cleared. ‘Oh, right.’ He turned to Callum. ‘You should have said so, Doc.’ He gingerly shuffled down the bed and lifted the gown. ‘At least in this heat your hands will be warm.’
Callum silently groaned; sleeping patients didn’t give cheek. He scanned the patient’s abdomen, immediately noticing it was bloated. ‘Let me know if any of this hurts.’ His fingeres pressed firmly but gently, moving over the area, seeking guarding and rigidity, and then he examined the upper midline.
Callum pressed close to the upper midline.
Vince hissed. ‘Hell, Doc, that hurts.’ He pressed his fist to his epigastric area.
‘Sorry.’ Callum helped him sit up to relieve the reflux pain and then wrapped the blood-pressure cuff around the man’s upper arm. ‘Are you on any medications?’
‘Me knees are arthritic so I take some painkillers for that.’
Tess swabbed Vince’s left arm. ‘What sort of painkillers?’
‘Aspirin mostly or that new stuff with the funny name I.-B.-something.’
The story was coming together. ‘Ibuprofen.’ Callum pumped up the BP cuff.
Callum heard the swish and thud of blood in the arteries as he released the air from the cuff and matched the sounds to the fall of the arrow. He decided to leave the cuff in place, wanting to monitor Vince’s blood pressure closely.
‘Your BP is 110 on 75, which is a bit low. Do you know what your usual blood press—’
Vince suddenly heaved, his eyes wide with alarm as bright red blood filled the basin. The ECG machine screamed a high-pitched warning sound.
Esther came running into the room, quickly taking in the emergency. She deftly removed the bowl. ‘I’ll measure this for blood loss.’
‘Tess, is that IV in yet?’ Callum quickly dropped the back of the bed down so their patient was lying flat and strapped a clear oxygen mask onto his face. For the first time since arriving at the hospital Callum relaxed. Emergencies were what he did best.
‘I’ve got Hartmann’s solution going in full bore.’ Tess taped the drip into place, her expression grave. ‘It looks like he just dropped a litre of blood.’
Callum gave a grim nod. ‘It fits in with all the classic signs of a bleeding ulcer probably exacerbated by using non-steroidal anti-inflammatories for his arthritis.’
She placed her hand on their patient’s wrist, checking his pulse. ‘Vince, you’re bleeding somewhere in your gut. We’re replacing the blood with an electrolyte solution but we’ll need to evacuate you to Mildura Base Hospital for a procedure to stop the bleeding.’
The pallid and sweaty man barely nodded his understanding.
Callum’s brain went into overdrive. Vince was in no fit state for evacuation and unless they could keep his circulating volume up, he could go into cardiac arrest. He walked around to Tess, his hand gently closing around her forearm, her skin warm and soft on his palm. Guiding her a few steps aside, he spoke sotto voce. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance that Narranbool Bush Hospital runs to an operating theatre and gastroscope?’
Tess bristled. ‘We have visiting specialists come through here on rotation from Mildura and, yes, we do have a ’scope but no one qualified to use…’ Her eyes sparkled as realisation dawned. ‘You can do the scope and clip the ulcer. That’s fantastic—you’re just what we need.’
Her appreciation wound through him, spreading into every cell with a zing of something he didn’t recognise. He grinned like a fool, which was crazy as he was only going to do something he was very qualified to do and did on a regular basis. ‘I can, if you can do the anaesthetic.’
She beamed. ‘That I can do.’ As she started to turn back to their patient she stopped abruptly and immediately put her hand on her lower ribs.
Callum stilled. ‘Something wrong?’ He had this growing premonition that the baby was in danger. It was irrational, unfounded and absurd, but it bothered him that she was still working.
She laughed. ‘No, just Oscar’s foot doing some break dancing.’ She turned back to their patient. ‘Mr Renaldo, I have good news. Callum can operate on you here in Narranbool. Esther will get you ready for Theatre and I’ll organise all the paperwork.’
‘Whatever you have to do, Doc.’ Vince’s voice trembled with anxiety. ‘Can you tell my sister?’
‘Absolutely.’ Tess squeezed Vince’s hand.
Relief rolled through Callum. Tess would deal with the hysterical relatives, which suited him just fine.
‘Right, let’s get moving.’ Completely in his element, he took charge. Grabbing the chart, he scrawled down a drug dose. ‘Esther, take blood for cross-matching.’
‘Right you are, Mr Halroyd.’ Esther’s face shone with sympathy. ‘Your brother was a great doctor and Narranbool is very fortunate to have you on board now James has gone.’
No way am I ‘on board’. The words rose to his mouth but he stopped them from tripping off his lips. Now wasn’t the time to say that country life and country medicine were an anathema to him. They had a sick patient who needed his bleeding ulcer clipped.
Giving Esther a curt nod of appreciation, he turned to Tess, whose expression was unexpectedly calculating. But he didn’t have time to wonder about that—the clock was ticking, and his adrenaline was pumping. He clapped his hands together. ‘Let’s get this man to Theatre now, before he bleeds any more.’
CHAPTER THREE
‘I KNOW you wanted to get in fast so I’ve sedated him with midazolam and propofol and he’s all set to go.’ Tess’s worried eyes looked at Callum over her theatre mask. ‘He’s lucky you’re here.’
A niggle of concern pulled at Cal but the beeping of the monitor registering Vince’s low blood pressure intervened. ‘Let’s start.’ He put his gloved hand out for the gastroscope.
Ken Liu, the theatre nurse, handed him the long, black, flexible tube, whose plain colour belied its ability to light and electronically magnify the gut.
Cal had to give the staff credit—they’d mobilised quickly and there’d been no messing around. He glanced up at the screen as he passed the tube down the oesophagus. ‘No sign of varices, always good.’
‘Excellent news.’ Tess’s hidden smile played through her voice. ‘Often patients aren’t one hundred per cent honest about their history if alcohol is involved.’ The ECG monitor beeped rhythmically and reassuringly next to her. ‘Esther, is the blood here?’
‘It’s on its way but we’ve got plasma expander. Do you want that put up?’ Esther’s questioning brows rose over her green surgical mask.
Tess checked Vince’s BP. ‘Right now his pressure’s holding so I think we can wait for the blood.’
Cal grunted in frustration. ‘His stomach’s full of blood. Sucker, quickly.’ He needed to clear the area and find the source of the bleeding.
Ken handed him the instrument and the sound of suction filled the tense air of Theatre. Just as suddenly it stopped. ‘Damn it, the sucker’s blocked by clots. Saline. I need saline to clear it.’
‘Pressure’s falling,’ Tess stated in words what the incessant beeping told them.
He swore softly under his breath. ‘I’m scubadiving here and I can’t see anything except blood.’ He readjusted the sucker, his hand gripping tightly, and pressed his eye hard against the viewfinder of the ’scope. Don’t bleed out on me before I find the cause.
‘The blood’s arrived.’ Esther called out in relief as she accepted the welcome units from the blood-bank technician.
Tess moved fast. ‘Esther! Start squeezing one unit of blood into the left IV, now.’ She quickly snatched the second unit out of the nurse’s hands and attached it to the other large-bore IV she’d inserted.
Four hands worked furiously, pushing life saving blood into their patient, giving his heart the much-needed volume to pump around. A frown line appeared on the bridge of Tess’s nose. ‘Callum, how much of this is going straight into his gut?’
‘More than we want.’ His terse voice carried his apprehension.
‘I should have tubed him.’ Tess’s usually calm voice sounded ragged at the edges.
He couldn’t look up but he wanted to reassure her. ‘You made the right choice at the time. You’re not an anaesthetist and light sedation is usually better.’ Tension strained every muscle as Callum moved the ’scope to find the bleeder. ‘He’s hosing blood, damn it, but from where?’
The sedated Vince suddenly shuddered and blood and clots projected from his mouth, all over the floor and onto Callum’s shoes. He moved his feet. ‘At least now I can see a bit better. No sign of a peptic ulcer.’
‘I should tube him—he could aspirate.’ Tess ran a fine nasal suction tube down into Vince’s trachea.
Vince’s half-empty stomach immediately filled with blood as Callum probed into the duodenum, the sucker working overtime. Suddenly he caught sight of inflammation, the ugly ragged edges of an ulcer with an enormous clot in the centre. Thank you. ‘Found it. It’s an enormous duodenal ulcer. No wonder he’s been bleeding like a stuck pig.’
He injected the saline down the three-millimetre channel in the ’scope and sent up a prayer that it wouldn’t make things worse.
Ken’s eyes were glued to the screen, his voice disbelieving. ‘Is that a spurting artery at the base of the ulcer?’
It had made things worse. ‘Hell, yes.’ The clot had been trying to seal the bleeding. He sent down more saline to clear the area of blood so he could see what needed haemotosis.
Ken immediately passed him adrenaline. ‘Or will you use diathermy?’
‘Adrenaline first.’ His concentration brought conversation down to the bare minimum. He injected the adrenaline, wishing it speed in constricting the blood vessels and bringing the bleeding under control.
Bringing the whole situation under control. He relaxed slightly. ‘Right, I’ll just put the—’
The monitor screamed and Tess picked up her laryngoscope. ‘His O2 sats are dropping, and he’s got a lung full of blood. Callum, you need to pull out now so I can tube him.’
Sweat pooled on his forehead. He was so close. ‘Give me a minute to put on the haemoclip. I’m almost done.’
‘We don’t have a minute.’ Her eyes flashed with fear and steely determination.
‘Yes, we do. I’ve done this before.’ Callum put out his hand. ‘Kenny, the clip.’
The nurse hesitated, glancing between them.
‘Now,’ Cal barked, and the clip hit his hand.
Tess increased the nasal oxygen, her voice stern with dread. ‘We’re risking him arresting.’
‘Trust me, I’m on it.’ Callum blocked out the panic in Tess’s eyes, blocked out the screaming monitors, the stunned gazes of the nursing staff and did what he did best. With the finesse of the finest craftsman he sealed the bleeding ulcer with the clip.
Exhilaration thundered through him at the save, the buzz making him feel alive in a way no other event or situation ever could. ‘I’m done. The bleeder is plugged and he’s all yours.’ He removed the ’scope from Vince’s gut.
‘Thank you.’ Tess smiled at him with open admiration tinged with school marm disapproval. She immediately busied herself, aspirating the blood Vince had inhaled into his lungs. ‘You’ve done a fabulous job despite giving us all heart failure there for a minute.’ Her eyes held slight censure. ‘Just one more thing. You need to explain it all to Vince’s sister.’
His gut dropped. James had been the ‘touchy-feely’ Halroyd, the people person. Cal didn’t want to have to deal with hysterical relatives, especially when he knew Tess would do it so much better. ‘I can wait for you and we can do it together.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m going to be tied up here for a bit longer getting him stable. The family will be stressing and you need to put them out of their misery.’ Her face was hidden behind her mask but her eyes said it all. ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can.’ She turned back to Esther and issued instructions about commencing antibiotics.
Stunned, he stared at the back of her head. It wasn’t supposed to work like this. He did the life-on-the-edge stuff, not the routine hack work. But Callum Halroyd, the feted Frontline surgeon, had clearly just been organised and dismissed by a country GP.
He didn’t like it at all.
* * *
Callum ran his hand through his hair. Clipping the ulcer had been a walk in the park compared with the conversation he’d just endured with Vince’s sister. Tess had eventually rescued him from the emotional woman and ushered him into the tiny lounge off Theatre.
Glancing over the top of his cup of steaming coffee, he noticed black smudges under Tess’s eyes, marring her clear skin. She pressed one hand to the small of her back while she sipped her tea. She really should be tucked up in bed.
An image of her face relaxed in sleep and her lush body sprawled across a bed thudded through him. Despite fatigue, despite his grief, his groin tightened. Hell. He downed his coffee, almost welcoming the quick scald against his mouth and throat.
‘Sorry about your shoes.’ Tess’s apologetic gaze dropped to his bare feet. ‘I’ve never seen anyone bleed like that before, not even during my residency in Sydney.’
He gave a wry grin. ‘Oh, they can bleed all right. So now you know that you always tube anyone with a belly full of blood and save the surgeon’s shoes.’
‘Not to mention the patient’s life.’ Chuckling softly, she lifted her legs up onto a chair and rotated her ankles. ‘You did brilliantly tonight, action man. Thank you very much. We’d have been in strife without you, and on the plus side you got a bit of excitement tonight after all, so it was a win-win situation all round.’ She smiled smugly.
He knew he’d pushed her out of her comfort zone back in Theatre. ‘Sorry it got a bit hairy in there and that I overrode you, but I knew I could get the clip on.’
She shot him a knowing look. ‘See, general practice isn’t as mind-numbing as you seem to think.’
He snorted, unable to help himself. ‘And the last time you had to open Theatre for an emergency was?’
She had the grace to look like a kid caught with her hand in the lolly jar. ‘We do small procedures here and elective surgery cases go to Mildura or Wagga.’
He nodded, happy in the knowledge that he had Narranbool pegged. ‘And really serious cases would go to Melbourne to state-of-the-art equipment and experienced staff. It’s how the system works.’ He stood up, rinsed his cup and placed it on the drainer. ‘It’s midnight. I’ll take you home.’
Her brows pulled together as she swung her feet down onto the floor. ‘I should stay a bit longer.’
‘Vince is stable and in good hands with Esther and Ken. They’ve got my mobile number and if his condition deteriorates they’ll ring. I’ll visit him in the morning before the service, and check the results for Helicobacter pylori. I imagine that’s the culprit causing the ulcer, and if so I’ll start him on combined antibiotics.’
He gently took her empty cup from her hands. ‘So now all you have to do is go home and crash.’
Luminous eyes stared up at him, clear and penetrating. He expected her to object, and decided to pre-empt her and not wait for the words of refusal to pour from her amazing mouth. A mouth that could go from a pout to a wide smile in a heartbeat. ‘Tomorrow is going to be a long day and—’
‘That sounds like a good idea.’
Amazement rocked him. ‘Pardon?’
She smiled against a closed mouth, her lips compressing and her chest rocking as she stifled laughter. ‘You’re right. I’m exhausted and tomorrow will be huge.’
Relief trickled through him. Earlier this evening when they’d discussed going to Melbourne, he’d decided that Tess had a stubborn streak that ran long and deep. He hadn’t expected her to readily agree with him about taking over Vince’s care. She’d obviously come around on all fronts.
‘So we’re in agreement—excellent.’ He quickly calculated their estimated time of departure. ‘I’ll pick you up at ten-thirty in the morning. I think it’s best to wait until after the funeral to tell my parents—they sure don’t need that sort of distraction before the service.’ He shoved his hands deep in his pockets. ‘There’ll be hours in the car on the way to Melbourne to discuss everything and sort out the details.’
Her jaw tilted slightly and her shoulders straightened. ‘I’ll go to Melbourne on one condition.’
His hand automatically rubbed his forehead as he rested his bottom on the table and looked down at her. ‘And what would that be?’ The words rolled out on a sigh.
‘That you stay here and work in Narranbool.’
He heard the words but his brain refused to believe them. ‘That’s a ridiculous request. Narranbool doesn’t need me as part of its medical personnel.’
‘Yes, it does.’ Her sombre tone hung between them.
The serious light in her eyes, along with the tension clinging to her face, sent unease swirling through him. Slowly, through the fog that was his mind, realization dawned.
He absently rubbed the palm of his left hand with his right thumb. Tess was thirty-seven weeks pregnant and on call. There had been no reference by any of the staff of a registrar. Narranbool is very fortunate to have you on board now James has gone. He closed his eyes against the truth that bore down on him, hard and unyielding, like an avalanche. Forcing his eyes open, he met her gaze. Not even bothering to ask it as a question, he spoke slowly. ‘You’re the only doctor in town now.’
She nodded. ‘That’s right.’
The idea of working in a small town almost choked him. He’d go stark raving mad being a GP, listening to a catalogue of rambling woes and ailments, but no town deserved to lose all its medical personnel in the one week. Still, he needed Tess safe in Melbourne, needed to keep the baby safe.
He dragged in a resigned breath. ‘So you’ll go to Melbourne if I stay here? That’s blackmail.’
‘No, it’s not—it’s a choice.’ She folded her arms and even though she was sitting and he was standing, no way was she a powerless participant. ‘I refuse to leave my community without medical care. If you want Oscar born in Melbourne then this is the best solution.’
Every cell in his body railed at the idea. ‘What about me being in Melbourne for the birth of my nephew?’
‘I have three weeks to go until my due date and we’ll have organised another doctor by then.’ A slow smile washed over her face as her eyes glowed with keen intelligence. ‘Of course, if you can’t hack the slow pace of an outback general practice, I can stay in town and keep working.’
His gut rolled as personal need clashed violently with professional ethics. He didn’t want to stay in Narranbool, damn it, but he couldn’t leave the town without a doctor. He rubbed the back of his neck, his fingers hardly making a dent in the tight muscles. She had him well and truly over an ethical barrel.
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Fiona Lowe
From top-notch doc to daddy!Dr Tess Dalton couldn't wait to give her two closest friends the greatest gift - a baby of their own. But when tragedy strikes, Tess finds herself alone, carrying her friends' baby… Enter the baby's uncle, Callum Halroyd, leading surgeon and dedicated bachelor.Returning to the Outback for the sake of his family, he's shocked to meet Tess… and to discover she's about to give birth to his nephew! Becoming an adoptive dad certainly wasn't in Cal's plan! But newborn Oscar and beautiful, vibrant Tess make Cal reassess everything… Soon he realises just how much he wants to give Tess and the baby the love and care they so very much deserve…
Cal let out a breath and relief cascaded through him, immediately chased out by wonder and awe. His heart suddenly expanded—he’d just assisted this little miracle into the world. This tiny child. My nephew.
‘Is he all right?’ Tess’s weary voice asked the universal question.
He tried to speak, but the words felt trapped and he coughed to clear his throat. ‘We’ve got a baby boy, here.’ He placed the baby into Tess’s exhausted arms, so she could snuggle the child against her chest and warm him with her body heat.
Tess glanced up, smiling, and immediately reached out her hand, gripping his forearm. ‘Thank you so much for being here, for catching Oscar. I couldn’t have done it without you.’
The rays of her radiant beam flowed over Cal like spring sunshine, warming him in places he hadn’t known had been cold.
‘I wouldn’t have missed this for anything.’ His words came out spontaneously, their truth catching him by surprise. Two days ago he hadn’t even met Tess, had had no idea his nephew existed, and now he’d delivered him safely into the world. The feeling was indescribable.
Dear Reader
The definition of family is something that is continually evolving. In some countries, especially in rural communities, a family is multigenerational, living and working together on the land. In Australia in the 1950s ‘family’ usually referred to the nuclear family—two parents and a couple of kids or more.
Today, the word ‘family’ is accepted as meaning any combination of related adults and children—sole parent and child, grandparents raising grandchildren, single sex couples raising children, and couples adopting children from overseas. Some couples face more obstacles than others in creating their longed-for family, and that is how the idea for THE SURGEON’S SPECIAL DELIVERY came about.
I hope you enjoy Tess and Callum’s story as they deal with a life-altering event that throws them together in ways they could never have imagined. The fall-out is challenging, cataclysmic and life-affirming.
Write and let me know what you think: fiona@fionalowe.com (mailto:fiona@fionalowe.com)
Happy reading!
Love
Fiona x
Always an avid reader, Fiona Lowe decided to combine her love of romance with her interest in all things medical, so writing Medical™ Romance was an obvious choice! She lives in a seaside town in southern Australia, where she juggles writing, reading, working and raising two gorgeous sons, with the support of her own real-life hero! You can visit Fiona’s website at www.fionalowe.com (http://www.fionalowe.com)
The Surgeon’s Special Delivery
Fiona Lowe
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To Paul for his enthusiastic help, technical details, poetic descriptions and his friendship.
And to Cameron and Andrew for always patiently answering my questions—it’s much appreciated!
CONTENTS
Prologue (#u0b012eeb-dba2-5ef7-a58e-a2de078ea1fb)
Chapter One (#uc2de5d1a-d15f-5b5f-860a-9fbdaba05337)
Chapter Two (#u95b0e444-1124-5d28-81df-88fa98538d2b)
Chapter Three (#u4a841886-3bfb-50b1-99bd-0d4253224b30)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
PROLOGUE
‘IT’S a boy.’
The radiographer directed the pointer to the telling piece of anatomy on the ultrasound screen, as the fuzzy grey and white image of a baby floating lazily in its cocoon of fluid came into focus.
A squeal of joy erupted, bouncing off the white hospital walls and embracing every person in the room.
From her prone position on the examination table, Tess Dalton smiled up at the ecstatic couple that squeezed her hands tightly as they kissed each other over her rounded pregnant belly.
Tess’s heart threatened to explode from elation. The two people she loved most in the world were finally going to have the child they’d waited so long for, and she was part of this gift of life to them. Part of their family. It was the most fantastic experience of her life.
She grinned. ‘So, I’m going to have an honorary nephew. I’ll have to learn boy things.’
The couple immediately broke apart and dropped down to her level, simultaneously kissing her on both cheeks, their tears of happiness dampening her skin.
James Halroyd was the first to pull away, clearing his throat gruffly. ‘Just as well you’re up for the job of honorary auntie, Tess, because his biological uncle isn’t exactly the “kick a footy to the kid” type of guy. He’s too busy off saving the world.’
Carolyn Halroyd wiped her eyes and patted Tess’s swollen belly. ‘Oh, Tess, we can’t thank you enough for being our surrogate.’
Tess squeezed her best friend’s hand. ‘I’m honoured to do it. Besides, you’re the sister I never had. Without you I wouldn’t have even finished high school, let alone qualified as a doctor, so stop thanking me. I should be the one thanking you.’
Carolyn gave a giant sniff and a watery smile. ‘You’re going to be the best auntie Oscar could ever have.’
‘Oscar.’ Tess patted her stomach, the newly named foetus immediately morphing into his own personality. ‘One thing is for sure, kid, you’re going to grow up surrounded by love.’
CHAPTER ONE
‘DOCTOR, I have bad news.’
Callum Halroyd’s talented hands stilled on the mess that had until an hour ago been a young man’s leg, but that had been before a mortar had shattered it into pulp. This was Cal’s fifth operation since dawn and the sun had only just hit its highest point. As an experienced surgeon with Frontline Aid, and with the muffled explosions of war sounding in the distance, he was pretty certain he’d still be operating when dusk had disappeared into darkness.
He glanced up over the top of his surgical mask, his mouth twitching into a smile. He always smiled when he saw Jenny Patton. An experienced Frontline nurse, she had the typical dry Australian wit that described every situation in ironic understatement. ‘Don’t tell me, we’ve run out of coffee.’
Fully scrubbed, she walked over to him, her usually laughing hazel eyes strangely sombre. ‘The coffee supply is safe.’
‘That’s good to know.’ But a streak of cold shot through him quickly, its tendrils remaining, hovering like mist. He shrugged off the feeling and blasted a bleeding capillary with heat from the diathermy.
She stepped in next to him, dextrously applying suction to keep the bloodied area clear. ‘Jenson Armand’s scrubbing in for you. He’s just gloving up now.’
The quipping Jenny had vanished. The cold started to circle his heart. ‘What the hell for? I have more vascular experience than he does.’ He thrust out his hand. ‘More packs.’ The words shot from his mouth more like a command than a request as he tried to push his mounting unease aside.
Jenny handed him the gauze, her gaze seeking his. ‘I’m really sorry, Cal, there’s no easy way to tell you this.’ She sighed out a long breath before breathing in deeply. ‘We’ve just heard from Australia. Your brother, James, he was in an accident and he’s…’
The circling cold turned into an icy grip, snatching at his heart. ‘He’s what?’
She blinked rapidly. ‘He died yesterday, along with his wife. You need to go home. I’ve got you on a helicopter out of here to connect with an international flight. You leave in thirty minutes.’
The roar of blood in his head instantly drowned out the sounds of gunfire. His hands shook as he deftly created a stump for a future prosthesis.
James was dead. His brain struggled to come to terms with the fact that his twin brother no longer lived.
‘You’ll be home in twenty-four hours,’ Jenny reassured him. ‘Your parents will meet you at Melbourne Airport.’
Home. He shook his head. At some point in the last few years Australia had ceased to be home. Instead, it had become a place to visit on holidays, and now it was calling him back for a funeral. He wasn’t sure Australia could ever be home again.
* * *
Tess wandered around Carolyn and James’s strangely quiet house, desperately missing the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, the hum of Carolyn’s sewing machine and the happy off-key whistle that meant James was close at hand. Blinking back tears, she sat down hard on the couch and cradled her very pregnant belly. ‘Oh, baby boy, life is so not fair.’
She knew all about ‘not fair’ but she’d hoped this child wouldn’t have to experience it. Leaning back into the soft cushions, she tried to marshal her chaotic thoughts as fatigue broke over her like surf. The outback township of Narranbool had ground to a halt, united in its grief for its beloved GP and his talented wife Carolyn, who had dressed them so stylishly for weddings, debuts, the Narranbool Cup and every other social occasion in between. No matter what their height, weight or proportions, Carolyn’s skill had been making everyone look and feel gorgeous.
Tomorrow’s funeral had been organised from Melbourne by James’s family, but the town had taken control of the wake, needing to show their love and appreciation for two very special people. Tess knew that in true country style grief would be well fed with cream sponges, pavlova, asparagus rolls and tea.
She rubbed her belly as Oscar kicked hard against her hand. Carolyn had no known relatives, but James had parents. Parents who didn’t yet know about their unborn grandson.
Tess had to tell them but had balked at doing it over the phone. Hi, I’m Tess. You don’t know me and by the way I’m pregnant with your grandson but I’m not the biological mother. No, it was something she had to do in person when the Halroyds arrived in town. She’d do it tomorrow, immediately after the funeral.
Organised…by James’s family. Being organised by James’s family was something she was going to have to deal with. A long sigh shuddered out of her lungs as she tried to give herself a pep talk. Giving up Oscar to his grandparents was no different from giving him up to Carolyn and James.
Yes it is! A traitorous thought that had been gaining volume for two days thundered inside her head.
Pulling herself together, she stared it down hard.
For two days she’d experienced fantasy moments of pretending that Oscar was her own baby. But, of course, he wasn’t. He was a Halroyd and she couldn’t deny Oscar his birthright. She knew what it was like to grow up without a family. She was intimate with that sense of needing to belong to someone and never having that need filled.
Carolyn and James had been her family for three short years but now they were gone. Their child grew inside her belly, but as a surrogate she had to give him up to his biological family, severing the last connection she had with her dearest friends. Perhaps severing the connection with a child she’d expected to watch grow up and have over for sleepovers. She would fight to stay in touch but what real claim did she have?
Her fragile cocoon of happiness, spun over the last year, had splintered into jagged shards the moment the road train had ploughed headlong into James and Carolyn’s car.
Her throat tightened for the hundredth time that day and she blew out a long breath. Thankfully, dealing with the Halroyds was another sixteen hours away. Far enough away to pretend it might not happen, that Oscar could still be hers. ‘Tomorrow never comes, right, mate?’ She patted Oscar’s kicking foot, deluding herself a bit longer.
She needed a strong drink but she couldn’t have one so Tim Tams would have to do. Hauling herself off of the couch, she waddled through the now dark house into the kitchen. Moonlight filtered through the window while she filled the kettle, the darkness unable to dent the late summer heat that hung torpidly over everything. As she flicked off the tap, the outside sensor lamp burst into light, illuminating the back entrance.
‘Hey, BJ, are you hungry?’ Tess glanced at the cat door, expecting Carolyn’s stately black and white cat to step through and give her his usual disdainful look.
The flap stayed perfectly still.
The scrape of a key in the lock sent a prickle of alarm scudding through her. No one else had a key. Who could possibly be coming into the house? With her heart pounding hard against her ribs, she reached for the knife block with one hand and the phone with the other.
The back door partially opened and with an indignant miaow the cat shot into the kitchen as if he’d been stepped on.
‘Bloody cat.’ A deep voice sounded against the clatter of keys hitting the concrete step.
Tess stifled a scream and immediately dropped the phone. Grabbing the torch from the bench, she pressed down the black switch and swung it wildly toward the door.
‘Don’t take another step!’ Tess’s voice sounded far more in control than she felt.
The door opened fully, revealing a tall man whose broad shoulders nearly filled the doorway. He immediately put his hand up to his forehead, shielding his eyes from the brilliant light of the torch. His other hand groped the architrave, his long, lean fingers finding and pressing the white plastic light switch as if he had prior knowledge of the house. Light flooded the kitchen.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.’
His baritone voice rolled around her, smooth and soothing, like Swiss chocolate melting on her tongue. ‘Haven’t you heard of a doorbell?’ Tess’s hand shook and the torchlight bounced around, now overcome by the main light.
His lips formed a tight smile, exhaustion lining the deep brackets around his mouth. ‘I assumed the house was empty.’
Piercing grey eyes ringed with thick, long lashes caught her gaze, sending a wave of unexpected heat thudding through her. Her heart jumped into her throat as confusion clawed at her, and her brain shot into overdrive, trying to make sense of it all. Surely the real-estate agents weren’t dealing with the estate already? And if he was an agent, he wasn’t from Narranbool because she knew Collin Smithon well. Yet there was an air of familiarity about him.
She pulled herself up to her full height of five feet eleven and tried to look imposing and in command despite being eight and a half months pregnant. Dusting off her imperious doctor’s voice, which she hadn’t used in a long time, she straightened her shoulders. ‘Who are you and why do you have a key?’
He tilted his head to the side, the light picking up streaks of silver in his jet-black hair. His high cheekbones carried the gauntness of fatigue and black stubble lined his strong jaw, giving him a renegade look. For the second time in as many minutes his gaze zeroed in on her as if he was seeing past her face and down into her essence, the place she kept hidden away. Goosebumps tangoed with sweat as hot and cold simultaneously raced through her.
He didn’t move from the doorway but his innate aura of command radiated through his posture and his voice. ‘I’m Callum Halroyd. Who are you and why are you in my brother’s house?’
Tess stared in disbelief at the man she’d heard scant mention of and had never met. Blood rushed from her head as her last window of make-believe vanished before her eyes. Tomorrow had just arrived.
* * *
Cal gazed at the heavily pregnant woman in front of him and watched the blood drain from her elfin face. Hell, he’d scared the living daylights out of her. Striding into the kitchen, he pulled out a chair. ‘Perhaps you should sit down.’
The woman stayed where she was, swaying slightly, her hand curled tightly around the turn of the bench.
Damn it, the last thing he needed after a twenty-four-hour flight, ninety minutes in a helicopter and a heart-breaking time with his aging and grief-stricken parents, was a pregnant woman fainting on him. He moved slowly toward her, his palms open in a conciliatory gesture. ‘Please, you really do need to sit down.’ He gently put his hand over hers, planning to release her fingers so he could guide her into the chair.
An unexpected blast of heat burst through him as his palm connected with the back of her hand. That was strange and unexpected. Jet-lag and grief had obviously affected his body’s thermostat.
She quickly pulled her hand out from under his. ‘Thanks, I’ll be fine once I sit down.’
As she turned toward the proffered chair, strands of short honey-blonde hair swept across his cheek, trailing a scent of fresh coconut and tropical fruits. He had the craziest desire to close his eyes and breathe in deeply to banish the scent of war and pain that had taken up residence without him realising it.
He gave himself a shake and quickly filled a glass with water.
She spoke softly. ‘So you’re James’s brother?’
‘Yes, I think we established that.’ He offered the glass to the unknown woman. ‘And you are…?’
She accepted the glass with her left hand and he realised she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Still, pregnant women often had to remove their rings due to fluid accumulation so that meant very little.
Wide brown eyes appraised him while she slowly sipped her water, the action disconcerting him. He wasn’t used to being kept waiting. He was a surgeon—he called the shots and everyone else jumped.
She lowered her glass and placed it on the bench, before reaching out and touching his arm. ‘I’m so very sorry for your loss.’
My loss. He rubbed his forehead, rubbing the ache that had permanently throbbed since he’d heard the news.
‘James and Carolyn were my dearest friends and I’ve been staying with them for a few months while…’ She blinked rapidly.
He stifled a sigh. Typical James. He took in waifs and strays and Carolyn actively encouraged him. Now, as well as sorting out the estate, he had a pregnant, homeless woman on his hands. Yet another thing for him to organise as there was no way his parents were up to it.
He’d hardly recognised them at the airport. It was like they’d had the stuffing knocked out of them. Normally sheer energy and drive radiated from both of them, the characteristics that had made them millions from self-storage. But his usually in-control father had deferred every decision to Cal and his mother had just sat stoically silent, holding her husband’s hand.
He cleared his throat. ‘What about a cup of tea? God knows, I need one.’
A quiet smile stole across her heart-shaped face. ‘Thank you, that would be lovely. White, no sugar, please. The tea’s in the canister by the kettle.’
‘And I remember that three years ago the cups were kept in the cupboard over the sink.’
She nodded. ‘They’re still there.’
He plugged in the kettle and spied the partially opened Tim Tams. He smiled at the memory of the luscious chocolate biscuit that his mother would allow to celebrate gold stars on homework. ‘I haven’t had a Tim Tam in years.’
She arched her eyebrows in mock horror. ‘Why on earth not? They’re the panacea for all ills.’
He heard himself laugh and a kernel of feeling other than sorrow opened up inside him. ‘I haven’t been living in places where supermarkets stock them. Actually, I haven’t been living in places with supermarkets, full stop.’ The kettle shut off and he poured the boiling water over the fragrant leaves.
‘Where have you come from?’
He caught her gaze on his rumpled clothes. ‘Africa.’
She smiled, her eyes taking on the warm hues of polished oak. ‘James said you were busy saving the world.’
His hand tightened on the handle of the teapot as he poured the aromatic brew into fine, white cups, her words bringing back the last fraught conversation he and James had shared over three years ago. He didn’t want to think about that. Not now.
‘Well, I don’t know about saving the world but I work for Frontline Aid. I go where I’m needed.’
‘And now you’re needed here.’ She ran her hand over her swollen belly, in a caress than radiated love.
A sense of unease that he couldn’t explain burrowed into him, pushing deep. ‘I’m just here for the funeral and to help execute the will, although one of Dad’s company lawyers can handle most of it. That’s why I left Mum and Dad at the motel and came over to the house tonight. I need to find James’s will and get the ball rolling.’ He placed her steaming cup on the bench next to her.
She bit her lip, as her high forehead creased in thought. ‘So once you’ve seen to that, you’ll leave? What about your parents?’
He frowned, not liking her accusatory tone. She surely had enough to worry about with her own situation without judging him. ‘I’ll certainly spend some time with my parents but they understand my work is overseas.’
She traced the handle of her cup with her forefinger. ‘So there’s nothing to keep you here?’
‘In Narranbool?’ He laughed, unable to hide his derision. ‘Not bloody likely.’ Narranbool with its heat, dust and shrivelled wheat crops had been James’s choice—one he himself had never understood.
Her shoulders stiffened and her chin tilted up as she shot him a look that reminded him so much of James and Carolyn that she could have been channelling them.
Contrition niggled at him and he sighed. ‘Look, I’m sorry, but small country towns and I are not a match. In fact, Australia and I are no longer a match, and I’m not sure we ever really were. For as long as I can remember I’ve looked beyond this “wide brown land”, I’m an expat through and through.’
She nodded slowly and then grazed her plump bottom lip with her top teeth.
Try as he may to pull his gaze away, it stayed riveted on the moist lushness. What would those rosy lips taste like?
The random thought shocked him. It was official—exhaustion had made him lose control of all common sense. He was a world-renowned trauma surgeon. He didn’t lust after homeless, pregnant women.
She sipped her tea, her expression thoughtful. ‘What if you had a nephew—would you stay then?’
Surely her child wasn’t James’s? He immediately shook away the uncharitable thought. His brother had loved his wife dearly, so much, in fact, that he’d given up plenty to be with her. No, this woman in front of him was pregnant by someone else, homeless and distraught from the shock of losing her philanthropists, which was why she was making no sense at all.
He leaned forward, talking slowly as if he was explaining complicated surgery in layman’s terms. ‘James and Carolyn couldn’t have and didn’t have any children. Now, as my twin and only sibling is dead, the chances of me being an uncle are impossible.’
She folded her hands on top of her belly and calm serenity washed over her. ‘James and Carolyn have a child.’
His head pounded. The urge to dismiss her words as irrational ramblings couldn’t still the disquiet, which grew like a tumour pressing on his chest. ‘That’s impossible. I would have known, he would have told me, my parents would have told me.’
She sat in front of him completely unruffled. ‘They don’t know yet. I was going to tell them tomorrow when I met them.’
Her quiet yet determined words blasted into him as the floor seemed to fall away from under his feet and the world tilted despite him being seated. He struggled to make sense of it all. ‘Who are you really?’
‘I’m Dr Tess Dalton, the surrogate mother of James’s and Carolyn’s son.’
CHAPTER TWO
A SURROGATE.
Cal stood up, needing to move, needing to pace, needing to do something. His rampaging thoughts battered his already overloaded brain, which struggled to absorb the astonishing news. A child.
An apologetic expression passed over Tess’s face. ‘I’m sorry to totally stun you like that but there’s no shockproof way of delivering the news.’ She hauled herself out of the chair and picked up the packet of Tim Tams. ‘Here, take them all. You look like you need them more than I do.’
Caught in her understanding gaze, he distractedly bit into a biscuit. It tasted like cardboard, his body unable to experience anything other than shock. He was going to be an uncle.
The uncle of an orphan. The realisation thundered through him as he spun away from her and continued pacing. He suddenly stopped and swung back, taking a really close look at Tess. Her honey smooth skin shone with lustrous good health and her egg-blue singlet curved over voluptuous breasts. Heated blood shot through him, straight to his groin.
Stunned by his reaction, he pulled his gaze to her belly, forcing the doctor in him to appraise the pregnancy, which she carried low.
Primigravidas may experience lightening and engagement at thirty-six weeks. The information he’d absorbed long ago when he’d been a medical student pushed up from the recesses of his mind and forced down the unwanted lust. ‘Exactly when is the baby due?’
She brushed back her fringe. ‘I’m thirty-seven weeks.’
‘So you’re due any day.’ He couldn’t stop the rising inflection of his voice as an edge of panic tightened his chest.
She smiled her quiet, serene smile. ‘Or in three weeks’ time, yes.’
He ran his hand frantically through his hair as if that would help him make sense of it all. Yesterday his world had been familiar. Today it was as if he’d landed on an alien planet.
Unspoken thoughts tumbled from his mouth. ‘But I don’t understand. Why didn’t we know?’
You hadn’t spoken to your brother in three years, since you accused him of throwing away his life. He ignored the voice of reason. ‘James could have at least told our parents. Hell, they live in the same country.’
Sympathy wove across her cheeks. ‘James and Carolyn wanted your parents to meet, hold and love Oscar before—’
He started. ‘Is that the child’s name?’ It triggered a faint memory from his childhood—the imaginary friend he and James had created to solve disputes between them.
‘Yes. Oscar Callum.’
Guilt ripped at Callum and he tried to shrug it off. ‘You were saying they wanted mum and dad to meet him before what?’
She sucked in her cheeks. ‘Before they learned of his unorthodox birth.’ Her gaze dropped away. ‘Before the press got wind of it.’
The money. Dad’s money. It was an inescapable fact that the Halroyd millions often generated intense media interest and it was no secret that James had taken a low profile to avoid media intrusion in his life. He stared at the woman in front of him, struck by a sudden thought. ‘Is there money involved?’
Her chin tilted up sharply. ‘It’s exactly that attitude which made Carolyn and James decide to hold off telling you. Money played no part in this. I did it out of love.’
If gold sparks were daggers, her eyes would have knifed him clean through the heart. Love. He swallowed a groan. He didn’t believe in love. His job didn’t allow for it and Felicity had crushed any remaining thoughts. But now wasn’t the time for a philosophical discussion about whether love existed or not.
A baby was coming into his family in the next few weeks and nothing he could do would change that. Every plan he’d made for the immediate future swirled in his mind like dust in the wind, being carried further and further away from him. He wanted to put his hand out and grab on tight to all his arrangements but there was nothing to hold onto. Everything had changed.
He sucked in a deep breath and slowly all the confusion in his mind cleared. This was no different from triage at Frontline. Decisions had to be made and priorities needed to be set. He knew immediately what he had to do.
Tess could almost see the cogs of Callum’s mind working behind those enigmatic dark grey eyes. As tall as James was short and as dark as James had been fair, Callum was the physical opposite of his fraternal twin. But the differences didn’t stop there.
James had never made her heart pound or her stomach somersault. He’d been her best friend’s husband, a kind man, a great doctor and the brother she’d never had. She thought back to her ill-fated relationship with Curtis. Not even in their halcyon early days had she ever felt quite this weirdly agitated and tingly.
She pushed away these new sensations and focused on what she knew about Callum, which wasn’t much as James had only ever mentioned him in passing. His biological uncle isn’t exactly the ‘kick a footy to the kid’ type of guy.
Callum’s suddenly brisk, businesslike voice broke into her thoughts. ‘So you’re booked into the Women’s Hospital in Melbourne to have my nephew?’
The ‘take-charge’ doctor had replaced the bewildered man and his question surprised her. ‘Ah, no, I planned to have the baby here.’
He raised his black brows. ‘So Narranbool Bush Hospital has acquired a neonatal intensive care unit since I last visited.’
She ignored his sarcasm. ‘Narranbool District Hospital has probably lost beds since you were last in the country. It’s a constant battle to keep country hospitals open, accredited and debt free. With sixty births a year we hardly qualify for an NICU.’
He folded his arms, his eyes darkening. ‘My point exactly. We need to get you down to Melbourne tomorrow as soon as the funeral is over. You can stay in the east wing of my parents’ house in Toorak and then you’re close to the Women’s when you go into labour.’
Her blood pounded in her head as her hands started to shake. She fisted them closed to steady them against the cocktail of emotions that pounded her. Her worst fear of what Carolyn had always jokingly referred to as ‘Halroyd organisation’ was swinging into action faster than she’d thought possible.
She kept her voice steady against all her fears about the Halroyds taking over that had plagued her from the moment she’d learned of her friends’ deaths. She was a surrogate, not family. ‘I don’t want to stay in the east wing.’
He frowned, momentarily nonplussed. ‘I don’t understand. It’s independent of the rest of the house and has everything you could possibly need for your confinement. Besides, my parents wouldn’t hear of you staying in a hotel and you won’t be inconveniencing them at all if that’s your concern.’
His determination and authoritative tone slammed into her like a truck hitting a brick wall. ‘Look, it’s very kind of you to offer but—’
‘It’s not a matter of kindness, it’s the best thing to do.’ His matter-of-fact voice brooked no argument.
‘The best thing?’ She failed to keep the incredulity out of her voice. ‘I can’t just up and leave Narranbool.’
‘Why on earth not?’ The derision in his voice matched the perplexity on his face.
Because I’m the only doctor here. But she knew telling him that wasn’t going to help her cause to stay in town and have Oscar. She’d just have to hope he would respect the wishes of his brother. She cradled her hands under her stomach. ‘James and Carolyn wanted to have the baby here and I’m going to respect their wishes.’
His brow creased in confusion. ‘So there’s another doctor in Narranbool with obstetric qualifications?’
She skirted the question. ‘I’ve got my diploma in obstetrics.’
The creases deepened. ‘No matter how talented a doctor you are, Tess, you cannot deliver the baby.’ He pressed his palms down onto the scoured wooden benchtop and leaned forward, the muscles in his arms taut with tension. ‘Who is going to deliver my nephew?’ His quiet words hung between them.
My nephew. His family. Oscar’s family. She hesitated as if she teetered on the very tip of a steep mountain, knowing that no matter which way she moved, she would tumble and fall. Fall into his plan of going to Melbourne. She met his piercing gaze. ‘The midwives are experts in healthy, straightforward labours and—’
‘But James isn’t here to act as back-up.’ Callum’s softly spoken words exposed the flaw that now made the original plan less workable if complications did arise.
For three days she’d been on the phone, following leads for another doctor with obstetric qualifications, but all conversations had ended in ‘No’. But she hadn’t given up hope; she still had time to find someone. Like all other outback women before her, she wanted to have her baby in her town and Oscar deserved to be born in the place his parents had adored.
She plastered what she hoped was a reassuring smile on her face. ‘But I’m healthy and the baby is healthy so the chances of me needing a doctor are pretty slim. Worst case scenario, we’re a short helicopter ride to Mildura which is a lot better than women in Africa—’
‘But we’re not in Africa, we’re in Australia.’ His previously warm voice had chilled to a stony determination.
‘Yes, we’re in Australia, and as I pointed out I have access to emergency care if it’s needed. There are other pregnant women in this town, Callum, and I’m not suggesting to them that they all decamp to Melbourne.’
A flash of sorrow flared in his eyes before a muscle in his jaw twitched. ‘Your job is to safeguard my nephew and I want you giving birth with the full suite of backup that modern medicine can offer on the other side of the double doors.’
She stared at his implacable stance, his mouth set in a firm line and his arms crossed over his broad chest. Knowing that exhaustion, grief and pain were driving him, she swallowed her biting retort that she would never put his nephew at risk either. Wearily she pushed at her fringe with her fingers and stalled. ‘Let’s talk about this tomorrow, after a night’s sleep, after the funeral.’
‘There’s nothing more to talk about.’
She sighed. ‘There are so many things to talk about.’ Like the fact that if I leave town, Narranbool has no doctor. The unmistakeable ring of her mobile interrupted her. She glanced at the display. ‘Excuse me, I have to take this call.’ She punched the green button. ‘Tess Dalton speaking.’
She listened carefully as Rosie Whitherton, the director of nursing at the hospital, told her that a patient had arrived and needed to see her.
‘I’ll be right there.’ She snapped her phone shut, relief surging through her that work would definitely end this conversation with Callum. ‘I’m sorry, but I have to go.’ She hunted around for her car keys, which always sank into the furthest corner of her voluminous tote bag.
‘Go where?’ His body rippled with alertness as if a ‘go’ button had just been pushed, locking down all his previous emotions.
‘To work.’ Her fingers touched every possible handbag item except the cool metal of keys. ‘There’s an emergency at the hospital.’
‘You’re on call?’ Surprise spun along his cheeks, vanishing almost as quickly as it had arrived.
She held her breath, hoping it was a rhetorical question, wanting to keep her cover until the last possible moment.
He shrugged and picked up his keys. ‘I’ll come with you.’
Astonishment flipped her stomach. She needed a break from this conversation and she didn’t need Callum Halroyd with his intense stare and his questioning and organising demeanour entering her professional domain. He disconcerted her enough in the kitchen, let alone in A and E.
She started lifting newspapers, still searching for her keys. ‘But you’re exhausted. Shouldn’t you get some sleep?’
He exhaled a ragged breath and hooked her gaze. ‘Have you slept since you heard the news?’
She bit her lip and shook her head. ‘Point taken.’ He needed work as much as she did right now and she couldn’t insist that he stay behind.
Abandoning her key hunt completely, she swung her bag over her shoulder and strode purposefully to the door as much as a pregnant woman could stride. As her hand grasped the doorknob she turned back toward Callum, catching his resolute expression, which contrasted starkly with an unexpected glint in his dark eyes.
Excitement? She suddenly saw him in a different light. Instead of grief being front and centre, an overlay of anticipation shimmered around him. Was Callum an adrenaline junkie? A doctor who worked in war zones as much for himself as for patients. Did work excite him? The thought coiled through her, settling in the back of her mind to be re-examined later.
‘Let’s go.’ She stepped into the hot night, half dreading and half looking forward to working with this enigmatic man.
And that scared the hell out of her.
* * *
Callum assessed the small emergency department of Narranbool District Hospital through the glass panel of the door and sighed. How had James stood working in this two-horse town? The equipment looked older than some of the gear he used in Africa.
Rosie, the DON, had greeted him and Tess with open arms and an apologetic grimace, and had immediately disappeared back to the nursing home to check on a patient. Typical country medicine—under-resourced, understaffed and underwhelming. Bush hospitals had become glorified nursing homes as mainstream surgical procedures were removed to the capital cities and larger regional centres, which had all the up-to-date equipment.
The trip to the hospital had been quick and silent, with the exception of Tess’s husky voice giving navigating instructions. To shut out lust, Callum had made lists in his head of the things he had to organise, including pulling in a favour from a mate who was an obstetrician in Melbourne. The sooner Tess was in Melbourne the better.
Then he could relax.
He ignored the faint voice in his head that he was overreacting, that Tess was right about the safety of giving birth in Narranbool and that he was medicalising childbirth. James was dead and nothing he could do would change that. But he could do everything possible to safeguard James’s son.
He rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger. And there was still the problem of his parents. He had no idea how to gently tell two shocked sixty-five-year-olds that they were soon to be grandparents.
Tess grabbed a couple of gowns off the linen trolley, the soft fabaric of her shorts tightening on her behind.
His gaze fixed itself on the plump roundness, his mind immediately imagining how his hands would feel curved against the softness. You’re gawking at a pregnant woman. Now, that’s really classy.
Tess turned, the expression in her chocolate eyes quizzical as she tossed him a gown. ‘Here—catch.’
Her words brought him instantly back to the A and E. Abandoning his lustful thoughts, he immediately became the doctor. ‘What do we know about this patient?’
Tess picked up the beige history folder with the distinctive colour-coded spine that was used in most hospitals around the country. ‘Rosie said he’s a relative of a local family, visiting from Perth. He hasn’t been feeling well since dinner and has complained of heartburn.’
‘That’s the emergency?’ He tugged on his gown and sighed. ‘He probably just needs some antacid and a lecture on the evils of overeating.’
‘You were the one who wanted to come to the hospital.’ She gave him an arch look. ‘We could wish him a myocardial infarction if that’s more exciting for you.’
Her barb hit with unerring accuracy. He loved the rush of an emergency, of dealing with the unknown, having to think on his feet and being just one step ahead of disaster. ‘Sorry. GP work just isn’t me.’
‘No? Really? I would never have guessed.’ Her wide mouth curved up into a smile that raced directly to her eyes, giving her a teasing, sassy look. ‘But you’re here now, action man, so follow me and watch and learn how to talk to a patient who is actually awake.’
Action man. A delicious sensation of warmth unexpectedly scudded through him. His staff at Frontline were fabulous but in Theatre he was the boss and no one ever questioned him. No one ever teased him.
As she walked away from him, an involuntary sound erupted from his throat which he recognised as laughter. A flare of something akin to happiness lightened his chest for a moment before shrinking but not completely fading. He followed her through the double doors toward the source of noise.
‘You need to wait in the waiting area and we will call you back when he’s seen the doctor.’ A tired voice sounded over the clamour of many talking at once.
‘But he’s my brother.’ A woman’s voice rose in agitation, while her pudgy hands gesticulated, sending her many bracelets jangling.
Relatives. They were another reason why he’d become a surgeon. By the time he got to speak to relatives, other staff had usually calmed them down, and after he’d spoken to them briefly, his registrar followed up, answering any other questions.
Callum recognised the distinctive white and blue uniform of a nurse who turned toward them at the sound of the door, relief clear on her face.
‘Tess, I’ve done baseline observations on Mr Renaldo and he’s pretty uncomfortable with epigastric pain.’
‘Thanks, Esther. Mr Halroyd and I will sort him out.’
The middle-aged woman nodded slowly as she took a head-to-toe look at Callum, interest and curiosity bold in her eyes. She turned back to the relatives. ‘The doctors are here now and everyone needs to leave.’ She pointed to the door and started herding the crowd back to the waiting area affectionately known as chairs.
Tess winked at him. ‘Within the hour all of Narranbool will know you’re here. Esther is a great nurse and a great communicator.’
His jaw tightened at the accepted small-town culture. ‘Hmm, that sounds like code for gossip. It probably comes from not having enough to do.’
Tess frowned, her mouth opening slightly before closing into a thin line. With a slight roll of her shoulders she walked into the examination room.
‘Mr Renaldo, I’m Tess Dalton and this is Mr Callum Halroyd. He’s visiting Narranbool, just like you are.’ Tess gave a welcoming smile to their patient.
The pale man propped up on white pillows mustered a smile as the ECG monitor he was connected to beeped reassuringly. ‘Call me Vince.’
Callum nodded in acknowledgement of the greeting.
‘So what’s brought you in, Vince?’ Tess rested the chart board on top of her bump.
‘My sister’s cooking!’ He gave a wry smile. ‘To be fair, I haven’t felt that great since I arrived and tonight the heartburn just got to me.’
Tess’s face expressed sympathy as she rubbed her sternum. ‘I know what you mean. I’m looking forward to eating a curry without revisiting it all night.’
Callum’s patience strained to the breaking point. Small talk had never been his thing which was yet another reason why he’d chosen surgery. By now he would have asked for specific symptoms and be moving into the examination. James had been the member of the family who’d enjoyed a chat, not him.
Tess continued. ‘Is the heartburn just after meals?’
Vince shook his head. ‘It’s been pretty constant and I haven’t been eating much lately. Haven’t really felt like it.’
‘What’s different about today that made you come to hospital?’ Tess rubbed her back.
Callum caught the action and wondered again why she was still on the on-call roster. Surely the registrar could have taken this case.
Vince grimaced and spoke between quick breaths. ‘Today’s a lot worse. I feel really crook, like I’m going to hurl, and I’ve got gut-ache too.’ He gripped the bowl Esther had given him, his knuckles white against the metal.
‘Have you vomited today?’
Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. ‘No, but I’ve had some diarrhoea and I dunno what my sister cooked but it was as black as tar!’
Tess immediately glanced over their patient’s head and caught Callum’s gaze, her brown eyes full of concern. Black bowel motions meant blood.
Callum reached for the stethoscope that hung over the top of the BP machine, planning to hand it to Tess.
‘Vince, we need to examine you and I’m going to ask Callum to do that while I insert an intravenous drip into your arm. When the nurse took your temperature it was up, and it’s always good to have some extra fluids on board when you have a fever.’
And when there’s a possibility that you’re bleeding internally. Tess knew her stuff and had swung into a team action approach. He couldn’t fault her decision and the thrill of excitement he got from work kicked in.
‘If you can lie down for me, I’ll palpate your abdomen.’ Callum put the stethoscope around his neck.
Vince’s expression became confused. ‘Do what?’
Tess raised her brows at Callum, a dimple appearing briefly in one cheek. Almost as quickly the muscles in her face schooled themselves into impassivity and she looked directly at Mr Renaldo. ‘He’s going to gently press your stomach to see if it’s tender.’
The patient’s brow immediately cleared. ‘Oh, right.’ He turned to Callum. ‘You should have said so, Doc.’ He gingerly shuffled down the bed and lifted the gown. ‘At least in this heat your hands will be warm.’
Callum silently groaned; sleeping patients didn’t give cheek. He scanned the patient’s abdomen, immediately noticing it was bloated. ‘Let me know if any of this hurts.’ His fingeres pressed firmly but gently, moving over the area, seeking guarding and rigidity, and then he examined the upper midline.
Callum pressed close to the upper midline.
Vince hissed. ‘Hell, Doc, that hurts.’ He pressed his fist to his epigastric area.
‘Sorry.’ Callum helped him sit up to relieve the reflux pain and then wrapped the blood-pressure cuff around the man’s upper arm. ‘Are you on any medications?’
‘Me knees are arthritic so I take some painkillers for that.’
Tess swabbed Vince’s left arm. ‘What sort of painkillers?’
‘Aspirin mostly or that new stuff with the funny name I.-B.-something.’
The story was coming together. ‘Ibuprofen.’ Callum pumped up the BP cuff.
Callum heard the swish and thud of blood in the arteries as he released the air from the cuff and matched the sounds to the fall of the arrow. He decided to leave the cuff in place, wanting to monitor Vince’s blood pressure closely.
‘Your BP is 110 on 75, which is a bit low. Do you know what your usual blood press—’
Vince suddenly heaved, his eyes wide with alarm as bright red blood filled the basin. The ECG machine screamed a high-pitched warning sound.
Esther came running into the room, quickly taking in the emergency. She deftly removed the bowl. ‘I’ll measure this for blood loss.’
‘Tess, is that IV in yet?’ Callum quickly dropped the back of the bed down so their patient was lying flat and strapped a clear oxygen mask onto his face. For the first time since arriving at the hospital Callum relaxed. Emergencies were what he did best.
‘I’ve got Hartmann’s solution going in full bore.’ Tess taped the drip into place, her expression grave. ‘It looks like he just dropped a litre of blood.’
Callum gave a grim nod. ‘It fits in with all the classic signs of a bleeding ulcer probably exacerbated by using non-steroidal anti-inflammatories for his arthritis.’
She placed her hand on their patient’s wrist, checking his pulse. ‘Vince, you’re bleeding somewhere in your gut. We’re replacing the blood with an electrolyte solution but we’ll need to evacuate you to Mildura Base Hospital for a procedure to stop the bleeding.’
The pallid and sweaty man barely nodded his understanding.
Callum’s brain went into overdrive. Vince was in no fit state for evacuation and unless they could keep his circulating volume up, he could go into cardiac arrest. He walked around to Tess, his hand gently closing around her forearm, her skin warm and soft on his palm. Guiding her a few steps aside, he spoke sotto voce. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance that Narranbool Bush Hospital runs to an operating theatre and gastroscope?’
Tess bristled. ‘We have visiting specialists come through here on rotation from Mildura and, yes, we do have a ’scope but no one qualified to use…’ Her eyes sparkled as realisation dawned. ‘You can do the scope and clip the ulcer. That’s fantastic—you’re just what we need.’
Her appreciation wound through him, spreading into every cell with a zing of something he didn’t recognise. He grinned like a fool, which was crazy as he was only going to do something he was very qualified to do and did on a regular basis. ‘I can, if you can do the anaesthetic.’
She beamed. ‘That I can do.’ As she started to turn back to their patient she stopped abruptly and immediately put her hand on her lower ribs.
Callum stilled. ‘Something wrong?’ He had this growing premonition that the baby was in danger. It was irrational, unfounded and absurd, but it bothered him that she was still working.
She laughed. ‘No, just Oscar’s foot doing some break dancing.’ She turned back to their patient. ‘Mr Renaldo, I have good news. Callum can operate on you here in Narranbool. Esther will get you ready for Theatre and I’ll organise all the paperwork.’
‘Whatever you have to do, Doc.’ Vince’s voice trembled with anxiety. ‘Can you tell my sister?’
‘Absolutely.’ Tess squeezed Vince’s hand.
Relief rolled through Callum. Tess would deal with the hysterical relatives, which suited him just fine.
‘Right, let’s get moving.’ Completely in his element, he took charge. Grabbing the chart, he scrawled down a drug dose. ‘Esther, take blood for cross-matching.’
‘Right you are, Mr Halroyd.’ Esther’s face shone with sympathy. ‘Your brother was a great doctor and Narranbool is very fortunate to have you on board now James has gone.’
No way am I ‘on board’. The words rose to his mouth but he stopped them from tripping off his lips. Now wasn’t the time to say that country life and country medicine were an anathema to him. They had a sick patient who needed his bleeding ulcer clipped.
Giving Esther a curt nod of appreciation, he turned to Tess, whose expression was unexpectedly calculating. But he didn’t have time to wonder about that—the clock was ticking, and his adrenaline was pumping. He clapped his hands together. ‘Let’s get this man to Theatre now, before he bleeds any more.’
CHAPTER THREE
‘I KNOW you wanted to get in fast so I’ve sedated him with midazolam and propofol and he’s all set to go.’ Tess’s worried eyes looked at Callum over her theatre mask. ‘He’s lucky you’re here.’
A niggle of concern pulled at Cal but the beeping of the monitor registering Vince’s low blood pressure intervened. ‘Let’s start.’ He put his gloved hand out for the gastroscope.
Ken Liu, the theatre nurse, handed him the long, black, flexible tube, whose plain colour belied its ability to light and electronically magnify the gut.
Cal had to give the staff credit—they’d mobilised quickly and there’d been no messing around. He glanced up at the screen as he passed the tube down the oesophagus. ‘No sign of varices, always good.’
‘Excellent news.’ Tess’s hidden smile played through her voice. ‘Often patients aren’t one hundred per cent honest about their history if alcohol is involved.’ The ECG monitor beeped rhythmically and reassuringly next to her. ‘Esther, is the blood here?’
‘It’s on its way but we’ve got plasma expander. Do you want that put up?’ Esther’s questioning brows rose over her green surgical mask.
Tess checked Vince’s BP. ‘Right now his pressure’s holding so I think we can wait for the blood.’
Cal grunted in frustration. ‘His stomach’s full of blood. Sucker, quickly.’ He needed to clear the area and find the source of the bleeding.
Ken handed him the instrument and the sound of suction filled the tense air of Theatre. Just as suddenly it stopped. ‘Damn it, the sucker’s blocked by clots. Saline. I need saline to clear it.’
‘Pressure’s falling,’ Tess stated in words what the incessant beeping told them.
He swore softly under his breath. ‘I’m scubadiving here and I can’t see anything except blood.’ He readjusted the sucker, his hand gripping tightly, and pressed his eye hard against the viewfinder of the ’scope. Don’t bleed out on me before I find the cause.
‘The blood’s arrived.’ Esther called out in relief as she accepted the welcome units from the blood-bank technician.
Tess moved fast. ‘Esther! Start squeezing one unit of blood into the left IV, now.’ She quickly snatched the second unit out of the nurse’s hands and attached it to the other large-bore IV she’d inserted.
Four hands worked furiously, pushing life saving blood into their patient, giving his heart the much-needed volume to pump around. A frown line appeared on the bridge of Tess’s nose. ‘Callum, how much of this is going straight into his gut?’
‘More than we want.’ His terse voice carried his apprehension.
‘I should have tubed him.’ Tess’s usually calm voice sounded ragged at the edges.
He couldn’t look up but he wanted to reassure her. ‘You made the right choice at the time. You’re not an anaesthetist and light sedation is usually better.’ Tension strained every muscle as Callum moved the ’scope to find the bleeder. ‘He’s hosing blood, damn it, but from where?’
The sedated Vince suddenly shuddered and blood and clots projected from his mouth, all over the floor and onto Callum’s shoes. He moved his feet. ‘At least now I can see a bit better. No sign of a peptic ulcer.’
‘I should tube him—he could aspirate.’ Tess ran a fine nasal suction tube down into Vince’s trachea.
Vince’s half-empty stomach immediately filled with blood as Callum probed into the duodenum, the sucker working overtime. Suddenly he caught sight of inflammation, the ugly ragged edges of an ulcer with an enormous clot in the centre. Thank you. ‘Found it. It’s an enormous duodenal ulcer. No wonder he’s been bleeding like a stuck pig.’
He injected the saline down the three-millimetre channel in the ’scope and sent up a prayer that it wouldn’t make things worse.
Ken’s eyes were glued to the screen, his voice disbelieving. ‘Is that a spurting artery at the base of the ulcer?’
It had made things worse. ‘Hell, yes.’ The clot had been trying to seal the bleeding. He sent down more saline to clear the area of blood so he could see what needed haemotosis.
Ken immediately passed him adrenaline. ‘Or will you use diathermy?’
‘Adrenaline first.’ His concentration brought conversation down to the bare minimum. He injected the adrenaline, wishing it speed in constricting the blood vessels and bringing the bleeding under control.
Bringing the whole situation under control. He relaxed slightly. ‘Right, I’ll just put the—’
The monitor screamed and Tess picked up her laryngoscope. ‘His O2 sats are dropping, and he’s got a lung full of blood. Callum, you need to pull out now so I can tube him.’
Sweat pooled on his forehead. He was so close. ‘Give me a minute to put on the haemoclip. I’m almost done.’
‘We don’t have a minute.’ Her eyes flashed with fear and steely determination.
‘Yes, we do. I’ve done this before.’ Callum put out his hand. ‘Kenny, the clip.’
The nurse hesitated, glancing between them.
‘Now,’ Cal barked, and the clip hit his hand.
Tess increased the nasal oxygen, her voice stern with dread. ‘We’re risking him arresting.’
‘Trust me, I’m on it.’ Callum blocked out the panic in Tess’s eyes, blocked out the screaming monitors, the stunned gazes of the nursing staff and did what he did best. With the finesse of the finest craftsman he sealed the bleeding ulcer with the clip.
Exhilaration thundered through him at the save, the buzz making him feel alive in a way no other event or situation ever could. ‘I’m done. The bleeder is plugged and he’s all yours.’ He removed the ’scope from Vince’s gut.
‘Thank you.’ Tess smiled at him with open admiration tinged with school marm disapproval. She immediately busied herself, aspirating the blood Vince had inhaled into his lungs. ‘You’ve done a fabulous job despite giving us all heart failure there for a minute.’ Her eyes held slight censure. ‘Just one more thing. You need to explain it all to Vince’s sister.’
His gut dropped. James had been the ‘touchy-feely’ Halroyd, the people person. Cal didn’t want to have to deal with hysterical relatives, especially when he knew Tess would do it so much better. ‘I can wait for you and we can do it together.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m going to be tied up here for a bit longer getting him stable. The family will be stressing and you need to put them out of their misery.’ Her face was hidden behind her mask but her eyes said it all. ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can.’ She turned back to Esther and issued instructions about commencing antibiotics.
Stunned, he stared at the back of her head. It wasn’t supposed to work like this. He did the life-on-the-edge stuff, not the routine hack work. But Callum Halroyd, the feted Frontline surgeon, had clearly just been organised and dismissed by a country GP.
He didn’t like it at all.
* * *
Callum ran his hand through his hair. Clipping the ulcer had been a walk in the park compared with the conversation he’d just endured with Vince’s sister. Tess had eventually rescued him from the emotional woman and ushered him into the tiny lounge off Theatre.
Glancing over the top of his cup of steaming coffee, he noticed black smudges under Tess’s eyes, marring her clear skin. She pressed one hand to the small of her back while she sipped her tea. She really should be tucked up in bed.
An image of her face relaxed in sleep and her lush body sprawled across a bed thudded through him. Despite fatigue, despite his grief, his groin tightened. Hell. He downed his coffee, almost welcoming the quick scald against his mouth and throat.
‘Sorry about your shoes.’ Tess’s apologetic gaze dropped to his bare feet. ‘I’ve never seen anyone bleed like that before, not even during my residency in Sydney.’
He gave a wry grin. ‘Oh, they can bleed all right. So now you know that you always tube anyone with a belly full of blood and save the surgeon’s shoes.’
‘Not to mention the patient’s life.’ Chuckling softly, she lifted her legs up onto a chair and rotated her ankles. ‘You did brilliantly tonight, action man. Thank you very much. We’d have been in strife without you, and on the plus side you got a bit of excitement tonight after all, so it was a win-win situation all round.’ She smiled smugly.
He knew he’d pushed her out of her comfort zone back in Theatre. ‘Sorry it got a bit hairy in there and that I overrode you, but I knew I could get the clip on.’
She shot him a knowing look. ‘See, general practice isn’t as mind-numbing as you seem to think.’
He snorted, unable to help himself. ‘And the last time you had to open Theatre for an emergency was?’
She had the grace to look like a kid caught with her hand in the lolly jar. ‘We do small procedures here and elective surgery cases go to Mildura or Wagga.’
He nodded, happy in the knowledge that he had Narranbool pegged. ‘And really serious cases would go to Melbourne to state-of-the-art equipment and experienced staff. It’s how the system works.’ He stood up, rinsed his cup and placed it on the drainer. ‘It’s midnight. I’ll take you home.’
Her brows pulled together as she swung her feet down onto the floor. ‘I should stay a bit longer.’
‘Vince is stable and in good hands with Esther and Ken. They’ve got my mobile number and if his condition deteriorates they’ll ring. I’ll visit him in the morning before the service, and check the results for Helicobacter pylori. I imagine that’s the culprit causing the ulcer, and if so I’ll start him on combined antibiotics.’
He gently took her empty cup from her hands. ‘So now all you have to do is go home and crash.’
Luminous eyes stared up at him, clear and penetrating. He expected her to object, and decided to pre-empt her and not wait for the words of refusal to pour from her amazing mouth. A mouth that could go from a pout to a wide smile in a heartbeat. ‘Tomorrow is going to be a long day and—’
‘That sounds like a good idea.’
Amazement rocked him. ‘Pardon?’
She smiled against a closed mouth, her lips compressing and her chest rocking as she stifled laughter. ‘You’re right. I’m exhausted and tomorrow will be huge.’
Relief trickled through him. Earlier this evening when they’d discussed going to Melbourne, he’d decided that Tess had a stubborn streak that ran long and deep. He hadn’t expected her to readily agree with him about taking over Vince’s care. She’d obviously come around on all fronts.
‘So we’re in agreement—excellent.’ He quickly calculated their estimated time of departure. ‘I’ll pick you up at ten-thirty in the morning. I think it’s best to wait until after the funeral to tell my parents—they sure don’t need that sort of distraction before the service.’ He shoved his hands deep in his pockets. ‘There’ll be hours in the car on the way to Melbourne to discuss everything and sort out the details.’
Her jaw tilted slightly and her shoulders straightened. ‘I’ll go to Melbourne on one condition.’
His hand automatically rubbed his forehead as he rested his bottom on the table and looked down at her. ‘And what would that be?’ The words rolled out on a sigh.
‘That you stay here and work in Narranbool.’
He heard the words but his brain refused to believe them. ‘That’s a ridiculous request. Narranbool doesn’t need me as part of its medical personnel.’
‘Yes, it does.’ Her sombre tone hung between them.
The serious light in her eyes, along with the tension clinging to her face, sent unease swirling through him. Slowly, through the fog that was his mind, realization dawned.
He absently rubbed the palm of his left hand with his right thumb. Tess was thirty-seven weeks pregnant and on call. There had been no reference by any of the staff of a registrar. Narranbool is very fortunate to have you on board now James has gone. He closed his eyes against the truth that bore down on him, hard and unyielding, like an avalanche. Forcing his eyes open, he met her gaze. Not even bothering to ask it as a question, he spoke slowly. ‘You’re the only doctor in town now.’
She nodded. ‘That’s right.’
The idea of working in a small town almost choked him. He’d go stark raving mad being a GP, listening to a catalogue of rambling woes and ailments, but no town deserved to lose all its medical personnel in the one week. Still, he needed Tess safe in Melbourne, needed to keep the baby safe.
He dragged in a resigned breath. ‘So you’ll go to Melbourne if I stay here? That’s blackmail.’
‘No, it’s not—it’s a choice.’ She folded her arms and even though she was sitting and he was standing, no way was she a powerless participant. ‘I refuse to leave my community without medical care. If you want Oscar born in Melbourne then this is the best solution.’
Every cell in his body railed at the idea. ‘What about me being in Melbourne for the birth of my nephew?’
‘I have three weeks to go until my due date and we’ll have organised another doctor by then.’ A slow smile washed over her face as her eyes glowed with keen intelligence. ‘Of course, if you can’t hack the slow pace of an outback general practice, I can stay in town and keep working.’
His gut rolled as personal need clashed violently with professional ethics. He didn’t want to stay in Narranbool, damn it, but he couldn’t leave the town without a doctor. He rubbed the back of his neck, his fingers hardly making a dent in the tight muscles. She had him well and truly over an ethical barrel.
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