Return of Dr Maguire (Mills & Boon Medical) (17 page)

A few huge drops of rain splashed down onto them and Lachlan glanced up at the sky. Dark clouds were massing over the firth and the wind was whipping up.

‘Do you think we could go somewhere more comfortable?’ he suggested mildly. ‘It’s bloody freezing out here and we’re going to be soaked! We’ll go back to Ardenleigh, and I’ll light a fire in that big fireplace in the drawing room, like you suggested. It will be cosy and warm in no time.’

A sudden vivid vision of two bodies in front of the fire, warmed by its heat and entwined together, floated into Christa’s mind, sending little sparks of excitement crackling through her body.

She laughed. ‘Sounds good to me. But remember what we said about not rushing things...’

Lachlan grinned wickedly. ‘I’ll give it careful thought,’ he said.

Neither of them heard Christa’s mobile ringing at first, then Christa grimaced and pulled it out of her pocket.

‘Wouldn’t you know it—I thought I’d turned it off,’ she said.

She held it to her ear and her expression changed. Her mother’s agitated voice sounded in her ear. She mouthed to Lachlan, ‘It’s Mum—she sounds awful...’

‘Christa? Oh, darling, something awful’s h-happened,’ Pat stuttered hoarsely. ‘Could you get here as soon as possible? It’s Bertie, he’s, he’s just collapsed with terrible pain across his chest. He says it’s just a pulled muscle, but he looks very grey and his breathing seems so laboured...’

Christa’s heart froze. Dear God, it sounded as if Bertie was having a heart attack. ‘Have you rung for an ambulance, Mum?’

‘Yes...then they rang back to say they’d come as quickly as they could, but they’ve been diverted because of a landslide through the Inchhill Pass. They told me to ring the GP and they’d be there as soon as they could—and to try and prop Bertie up. I’ve tried to but he’s heavy... Oh, dear me...’

There was an edge of panic in her mother’s voice, and Christa forced her own voice to be calm. ‘I’m on my way now, Mum. Is he at your flat? I’ll get in touch with the ambulance service again and see if they’ve got through the landslide. Don’t worry—keep talking to Bertie, reassure him that help’s on its way.’

‘I get the drift,’ said Lachlan, who’d been watching her face intently. ‘Come on—let’s get your car and your medical bag.’

They sprinted along the sands, the rain and wind beating into their faces.

‘It’s my mother’s elderly neighbour...Bertie Smith,’ panted Christa, her words tumbling over each other as she tried to explain what had happened to Lachlan as they ran. ‘She thinks he’s had a heart attack, and the ambulance is stuck in the Inchhill Pass...’

Dealing with emergencies like this was something GPs had to cope with, but Lachlan was well aware that in a life-and-death situation it could be a blessing to have another pair of hands.

‘Have you got adrenalin and morphine in your bag?’

‘Yes—and atropine.’

‘What about oxygen?’

‘Thank God I’ve got a cylinder in the boot. It’s a spare for a patient, but she’s got plenty to be going on with.’

‘Then while you’re driving I’ll get an update on the ambulance’s ETA.’

They picked up Christa’s car and medical bag, and she put her foot down, going as fast as she dared to her mother’s flat. Lachlan flicked a glance at her worried face as they sped through the main street of Errin Bridge.

‘You know this neighbour of your mother’s?’

Christa nodded. ‘Yes, he’s a friend really as well as being one of our patients. He’s actually had angina for a few years, but it seems to have been well under control. He and my mother have been “going out” together for a long time—he’s wonderful with Mum and such a sweet man.’ She gripped the steering-wheel tightly and said in a small voice, ‘I—I’m glad you’re here, Lachlan...’

‘So am I—two hands are better than one in this case.’

‘The truth is,’ she said bleakly, ‘this seems like a rerun of when your mother died. I was called out to someone who had collapsed at a farm in the hills, and I only knew it was Isobel when I got there. But I was too late...’

There was silence for a minute, the words ‘too late’ seeming to hang in the air.

Lachlan said softly, ‘We can only do our best in these situations, you know—it doesn’t always work.’

‘I know, I know,’ sighed Christa as she swung into the drive of her mother’s block of flats.

* * *

Bertie was on the floor with a cushion half-propping him up against a chair, his head had fallen to one side, his skin grey and his eyes sunken. Pat was holding his hand and stroking his forehead, her head whipping round when she heard Christa and Lachlan come in.

‘Thank God,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t know if he’s... It all happened so quickly—one minute we were discussing a holiday, and the next...’ Her voice trailed off miserably.

Lachlan bent down by the stricken man and put two fingers on his carotid artery. His eyes met Christa’s and he nodded. ‘There’s still a pulse...clear signs of coronary thrombosis. Have you heparin with you? I’ll go and bring in that oxygen while you take over, Christa.’

Bertie’s eyes fluttered open, and through purple-tinged lips he whispered, ‘It’s...it’s the pain...’

Lachlan knew that the vice-like grip in Bertie’s chest was all the man could think of, pain coursing through his neck and chest, and an increasing sense of losing touch with the world around him. He put his face close to Bertie’s ear.

‘Don’t worry, Bertie—don’t try to talk. We know what’s happened to you and we’re going to sort you out. We’ll give you something for the pain.’

His voice was crisp and authoritative, and Christa saw her mother put her hands up to her mouth, eyes wide with fright and riveted to the scene as she watched the two doctors trying to save the life of her friend.

‘Will...will he be all right?’ she whispered. ‘He was fine when we went for our walk—seemed as right as rain. It all happened so suddenly.’

Christa didn’t answer. Bertie might still be alive, but his life was on a knife-edge, with the grim prospect of a full cardiac arrest. She listened to Bertie’s labouring heart through her stethoscope while she felt the weak, thready pulse on his wrist. Lachlan hooked a mask round Bertie’s face and undid a valve in the oxygen cylinder to help the patient’s breathing.

‘He’s bradycardic—heartbeat under sixty,’ Christa said succinctly. ‘I’m giving him one milligram of atropine to try and stabilise him and bring his heartbeat up, and five thousand units of heparin.’

She slipped off the cover of the syringe and tested it with a small spray in the air before injecting it into the man’s arm. They watched him intently, and gradually the colour in Bertie’s face began to change from grey to pink as his labouring heart found the capacity to pump blood more efficiently around his body.

Now a cuff was wound round Bertie’s upper arm and Christa pressed a stethoscope to the skin below it, and after a few seconds the erratic beat of Bertie’s heart began to steady.

She took a long breath and murmured, ‘I think we’re getting there...he’s in sinus rhythm now.’ She held Bertie’s hand and smiled down at him. ‘You’re doing well, Bertie—just relax until the paramedics get here.’

Pat watched them from the corner of the room and wiped her eyes. ‘I...I’ll just go and make some tea for us all,’ she said in a trembling voice. She came over to Bertie and bent over him, squeezing his hand and saying softly, ‘Don’t you ever give me a fright like that again, Bertie Smith, or I’ll not talk to you again!’

And Bertie, with his oxygen mask over his face, managed to mouth to her, ‘I love you, darling...’

Pat bent down and kissed his cheek, her own cheeks wet with tears. ‘I love you too, my sweet. Please...please get better for me.’

Over their heads, Christa and Lachlan’s eyes met and held each other’s gaze as they smiled at each other.

* * *

It wasn’t long before the ambulance arrived and Bertie was taken to hospital, with Pat insisting that she go with him.

‘I’m not staying here, and I’m not letting Bertie go alone in that ambulance,’ she said firmly.

‘We’ll follow behind,’ said Christa.

‘No way!’ declared Pat, with such a look of Christa’s when she was in a bossy mood that Lachlan hid a grin behind his hand. ‘I’ll get a taxi back—you two need a meal. You’ve done everything you could—now the hospital can take over.’

‘Promise me you’ll ring me when he’s settled, then...’

Pat held her hand up as if to stop Christa in full flow and said with dignity, ‘I want to stay next to Bertie all night if need be—it’s kind of you, but I shall come home by taxi and that’s an end to it!’

Christa laughed. ‘You win!’ She looked from her mother to Lachlan and made a quick decision. ‘And, Mum, I haven’t had time to introduce you to Lachlan Maguire. As I told you, he’s working with me now.’

She watched her mother’s face as she made the introduction. Pat hesitated for just a fraction of a second then put her hand out to shake Lachlan’s with a smile of genuine warmth. ‘I can’t tell you how grateful I am—and pleased to meet you. Thank you so much for saving Bertie’s life. I shall always be in yours and Christa’s debt!’

The ambulance took them off and Christa and Lachlan were left standing together in the dark, watching the taillights disappear down the road.

‘Well, well, what a wonderful thing love is,’ murmured Lachlan. ‘It looks as if your mother’s found someone she loves very much.’’

Christa took a deep breath and said softly, ‘I’m sure Mum didn’t realise that she loved Bertie so much until this happened. Seeing him at the brink of death made her suddenly appreciate what she might be losing.’

She shivered for a moment, and in the darkness Lachlan took her hand. ‘You OK?’

‘It was a bit stressful...’ She squeezed his hand. ‘But I’m so grateful you were here—it was wonderful to have your support. It’s hard to be dispassionate when your own family’s involved and I could see how upset Mum was.’

‘When you think something’s going to end, it makes you look at things differently. When we had our little tiff I think I realised just how much I cared for you, Christa. I hated arguing with you, especially over nothing at all! And now,’ he said teasingly, ‘we were rudely interrupted an hour or two ago. Can we resume what we were doing—start over again?’

‘If you like,’ she said, a little breathlessly, and a flicker of elation rippled through her—almost triumph that perhaps she’d cracked that aversion of his to long-term involvement. She smiled, her cheeks dimpling. ‘If you really want to...’

So much for good intentions, she thought wryly.

* * *

‘Hello, there! Come on, Sleeping Beauty—time to rise and shine!’

From the depths of the cosy duvet pulled up over her ears Christa heard a familiar deep voice. She pulled the duvet up further and pretended she hadn’t heard, then there was a dirty chuckle and the duvet was rudely whipped from her.

‘Don’t do that!’ she shrieked. ‘It’s freezing!’

Lachlan looked down at her, grinning impishly, holding a mug of tea in his hand. He was wearing boxer shorts and nothing else, slight stubble on his chin, thick hair ruffled. He looked dangerously sexy and incredibly hard to resist. Christa changed her mind about being cross that the duvet had been removed and stretched out provocatively on the bed, deliberately and mischievously tempting him.

‘Why don’t you get back in and warm me up again?’ she suggested wickedly.

He groaned. ‘God, don’t tempt me. Like a flash I would! Only that might mean we’ll be even later than we are already...’

Despite saying that, he sat down on the side of the bed and leant over her, running his hands lightly over her soft breasts and flat stomach. ‘So beautiful,’ he murmured.

‘What did you say about the time?’ said Christa, drowsy with contentment, winding her arms round Lachlan’s neck, pulling him towards her.

‘Only that we’ve got about ten minutes to get to the surgery...’

‘
What?
You can’t be serious!’ Christa pushed her tousled hair out of her eyes, squinted at his watch on the bedside table and gave a little shriek, trying to sit up with Lachlan still on top of her. ‘Oh, my God—it’s after eight-thirty. How are we going to explain that to everyone?’

‘I haven’t a notion—possibly that it was a very busy evening, attending an emergency?’

‘But the whole evening?’

‘True... Perhaps we were discussing the patient’s case afterwards?’

Lachlan’s eyes twinkled into hers and Christa threw a pillow at him. ‘Funny sort of patient conference,’ she said, giggling, then put her hand to her mouth. ‘Oh, God! Bertie and Mum—I should have rung first thing to find out how things are.’

‘I rang about an hour ago while you were snuggled abed, snoring your head off. Bertie’s in CCU and stable and your mother came home soon after he was admitted—he was asleep anyway. So you see, babe, no need to worry about anything.’

‘Thank God for that,’ she said.

Lachlan smiled, tracing his finger down her neck and into her cleavage, loving the tousled look of her, the soft, creamy texture of her skin against the sheets.

‘Hell, if only it wasn’t a workday. What wouldn’t I be doing now?’ he said longingly. ‘It’s only my magnificent willpower that’s stopping me having my wicked way with you...’ He got up from the bed. ‘Anyway, there’s steaming-hot coffee on the hob and plenty of toast downstairs. You need something to keep you going after last night.’ He grinned cheekily.

Last night! Christa’s heart did a loop the loop as she thought about what had happened in the space of a few hours. It had been so horrible when they’d quarrelled but after a wonderful night together it seemed they had moved to something more than light-hearted fun.

He looked down at her very lovingly and traced a finger down her neck. ‘We could be doing this every night if you moved in with me...’ he said softly. ‘What about it? I don’t like rattling around here by myself!’

A surge of joy rippled through her. At last he’d admitted that he felt much more for her than a casual dalliance! She laughed up at him. ‘I thought we weren’t into long-term pledges,’ she teased.

‘Surely we’ve gone beyond that now, sweetheart?’ He brushed her lips with his. ‘I know I have...’