The Army Doctor's New Year's Baby (8 page)

"Wonderful,"
Daniel muttered. "Encourage the competition to hang around her, why don't
you." If Megan needed help, he wanted her to have it. Not from Lyall,
though.

"See
you downstairs in ten minutes," Duncan said to him, heading away down the
corridor.

Ten minutes!
Desperation flashed through Daniel as he slipped into Megan's room and closed
the door. How would he survive without her for eight weeks?

He stretched
out on the bed at her side, moving the covers off her face so he could see her.
She turned into his arms, all warm, sleepy, and adorable, her hair silky and
fragrant.

"I
don't want to leave you," he whispered.

She burrowed
against his chest, curling her fingers in his shirt. "I wish you didn't
have to go."

"I love
you, Meg. I'll miss you every day." He punctuated his words with kisses.

"I love
you, too. Come back to me safe and sound."

"Don't
worry. It's only training."

Megan
sighed, and seemed to wake up. "Just be careful, Dan. There's always some
risk involved in military training."

Her words
jolted him. Although he'd joined the army, he'd never considered he'd be in
danger. After all, he was a doctor, not a soldier.

Tears
gleamed in her eyes and twisted a knife in Daniel's guts. Leaving her was the
hardest thing he'd ever done. Why had he joined the damned army? What had he
been trying to prove?

A knock
sounded on the door. "Time to go, Dan."

Megan
huddled close and they kissed. She stroked his cheek, ran her hand over his
hair, her eyes scouring his face as if she were memorizing him.

Duncan knocked again. "Come on, Romeo."

"Go,"
Megan whispered.

Daniel
pressed his lips to hers in one last desperate kiss, then scrambled off the
bed, backing away, their gazes locked until the last moment. He gripped the
door handle and swallowed hard, clearing the tightness from his throat.

Whoever
wrote that love hurt was right. He'd never felt this bad in his life before.

Lyall poured
a cup of coffee and Megan thought she was going to throw up. Ugh, nausea rose
in her throat and she felt awful. Tea was her preference, but she normally
didn't mind the smell of coffee. Yet for some reason, over the last few days
she'd really gone off it.

She turned
the sausages, bacon, and haggis frying in the skillet and held her breath. This
didn't smell too good either. Nothing did. Perhaps she was coming down with a
bug. These last few weeks she'd felt so tired. She was definitely not herself.

Daniel would
be home in a couple of weeks and she really wanted to be fit and healthy to
greet him. Ever since he left, she'd been looking forward to his homecoming. The
last six weeks apart from him had been the longest of her life. She couldn't
wait to see his face, hear his voice, snuggle close to him, and feel his strong
arms around her.

A lovely
gold bracelet had arrived the first week Daniel was away. Every week since
then, two jeweled beads had been delivered from him, each package with a sweet
message telling her how much he loved her. The bracelet was so pretty with the
beads sparkling in the kitchen lights, each decorated with different colored
jewels.

The bracelet
was a pleasing weight on her wrist, a constant reminder of the man she loved.
Daniel must have bought it and arranged the delivery before he went away. She
had never dreamed he was such a romantic.

Holding her
breath, she slid the spatula into the skillet and served up Lyall's breakfast,
then handed him the plate. "There you go. Hope you're hungry."

"Wonderful.
Thanks. Your breakfasts are as good as Mum's and that's saying something."

He sat down,
moving aside the huge vase of flowers Daniel had sent her. This was the third
bunch, a beautiful arrangement of exotic blooms delivered from a specialty
flower shop in Edinburgh.

Lyall nodded
at the vase as Megan joined him at the table with a cup of weak tea, her
stomach too sensitive for anything else. "I assume all the flowers mean
Fabian is coming back here after his training exercise."

"You
assume right." Although she didn't know how long Daniel would be able to
stay. Duncan had been posted at the institute for five years now. If Daniel
specialized in thermal medicine, there was a good chance he could work in Scotland for the foreseeable future.

Nausea rose
in Megan's throat. She took a sip of tea and pressed a hand over her mouth. She
really did feel rotten. If they weren't short staffed at the doctor's surgery
she might ask for the day off.

"Are
you all right, lass," Lyall asked, pinning her with a concerned gaze.

"Not
really, but I'll manage. I'll just pop upstairs for a moment before we
go."

Megan
hurried to her room. She felt so bad, she sat on the edge of the bathtub with
her head in her hands for five minutes, sure she was about to throw up. She
didn't, but she still felt nauseated.

Checking her
watch, she stood with a sigh. She didn't have time to be ill. After splashing
cold water on her face and repairing her makeup, she went downstairs, slipped
on her shoes, and grabbed a coat before she met Lyall outside.

The
four-wheel drive headed towards Kinder Vale, Lyall chatting about some of the problems
he was handling. He asked her opinion of Andrew McKay, a teen from a notorious
family. They seemed to be the source of all trouble in the village.

Megan
struggled to concentrate and answer. In addition to the nausea, her brain felt
fuzzy, as if it were full of cotton wool. What was the matter with her? She needed
to pull her thoughts together before she saw her patients.

Lyall pulled
up outside the police station and cut the engine. "You going to be all
right, Meg?"

"Yes.
I'll be fine. Thanks for the ride. See you later." She climbed out and
headed into the small surgery. The receptionist greeted her as she walked
through the waiting room. When she reached her consulting room, she hung up her
coat and pulled open her desk drawer to put away her handbag. Then she realized
she'd forgotten to pick her bag up.

"Darn."
She frowned and rubbed her forehead. Perhaps she should have stayed in bed.

"Morning,
Meg. How are you?" Gerald, the senior partner of the practice, put his
head around her door.

Megan
dropped into her chair. "I've been feeling nauseated for a few days. It
gets better as the day goes on, then the next morning it's just as bad again. I
can't seem to shake it off."

"You're
not pregnant, are you?" Gerald's eyebrows rose and he chuckled at his quip
as he wandered away.

Megan froze,
her hand against her belly, her mind blanking for a second before racing back
over her time with Daniel. She couldn't be pregnant. Could she? They'd taken
precautions. Although, as a doctor she knew very well that accidental
pregnancies happened all the time.

With an
unsteady hand, she grabbed a pregnancy kit from the shelf in her office, hid it
under her sweater, and hurried to the bathroom. Ten minutes later she sat back
in her office chair, staring at the two pink lines with a sense of unreality.

She was
pregnant with Daniel Fabian's baby.

Part of her
soared with joy. This was tempered by a horrible fear that Daniel might not be
as pleased as she was. After all, they had only known each other for a few
months. Their relationship was still very new.

Glancing
down, she placed a hand gently over her belly, a smile pulling at her lips. She
was pregnant, something she'd dreamed of. She would be a mum and it was Daniel
who'd made this dream come true.

She closed
her eyes and imagined herself with her baby in her arms, Daniel at her side,
his arm around her shoulders, smiling down at the cute little bundle with his
brilliant grin, the grin that filled her with joy every time she saw his face.

He
would
be happy about the baby; she was certain. She reached for her bag to grab her
phone, then remembered she didn't have it. Maybe this was something she should
tell him face-to-face, anyway. She couldn't wait for him to come home.

***

The British
troops were stationed at a small port 150 miles north of the Arctic Circle.
With deep snow, ice, and temperatures regularly thirty degrees below freezing,
the conditions were ideal for testing the men and machinery in extreme cold
weather warfare.

In the last
seven weeks, Daniel had dug himself a snow cave and spent the night inside it,
skied three miles cross-country with his medical pack on his back, practiced
ice climbing, and spent cold nights in a two-man tent in the middle of an ice
field.

The most fun
had been skijoring, being towed on skis behind a BV-206 all-terrain vehicle.
He'd been eager to take part in all the training, thinking it would be great
practice for working with the Scottish mountain rescue team.

Gratefully
wrapped in thermals and winter uniform, he watched the soldiers practicing the
ice-breaking drill. He winced as a young private hardly out of his teens pushed
his feet in his ski bindings and slid down into the freezing cold water through
an ice hole. This was one exercise he was happy to sit out.

The poor guy
panted as the cold water hit his face. Splashing around, he pulled the heavy
pack off his shoulder and heaved it onto the ice. His sergeant squatted a few
feet away, encouraging him. "Name and number, soldier."

The guy in
the water gave the details, then dug the spikes of his ski poles in the edge of
the hole, kicked his legs, and pulled himself out. It seemed harsh to practice
such a thing when the air temperature was fifteen degrees below freezing, but
it taught the men how to get themselves out of trouble if they fell through a
hole in the ice.

With his
white coveralls clinging to his wet thermals, and his sneakers squelching with
each step, the soldier jogged to the makeshift bar a few yards away, toasted
the Queen, and knocked back his shot of whiskey. Then he headed to the warm
tent where his dry clothes were laid out.

This was
where Daniel came in. He and Duncan were monitoring the troops for signs of
cold injury. He followed on the man's heels, pulling back the tent flap to be
greeted by the welcome warmth.

Duncan was just finishing with the previous soldier, now warmly dressed and sipping a hot
drink.

"How
are you feeling, Private?" Daniel said, approaching the wet soldier as he
stripped off.

"Cold,
sir."

They both
laughed.

Daniel
waited while the man dried himself and pulled on some thermals. "I need to
check your hands and feet. Sit down here for a moment."

Daniel
indicated a small canvas stool. He sat on another and examined the man's hands
for discoloration. This ice-breaking exercise came at the end of a rigorous
seven weeks of exposure to subfreezing temperatures. They had already sent two
men home and were vigilant for any signs of cold injury. This last exercise
might be the final straw for anyone who was already vulnerable.

"Have
you suffered any pain, numbness, or tingling in your fingers or hands?"

"No,
sir."

They had
been testing a new thermal fabric during this training exercise. It was proving
to be excellent, thin and stretchy but with a thin layer of vacuum-filled
bubbles in the middle that provided insulation. Daniel wore it himself and
could attest to its efficacy. He was going to recommend it to Kindrogan
Mountain Rescue when he got home.

"Let me
see your feet. Right one first, Private."

"Yes,
sir." The man lifted his right foot onto the footrest, and Daniel checked
it over. He wasn't as happy with the guy's feet. The skin looked discolored.

"Have
your feet been hurting?"

The young
soldier averted his gaze before he answered. "A little. But I didn't think
it was enough to complain about, sir."

"Left
foot."

The man
swapped the foot on the support. This one was worse, the toes red, the skin
shiny and swollen in places. They would be blistering soon.

Daniel
glanced around for the new thermal socks the man should be wearing and saw no
sign of them. "Where are your insulating socks, Private?"

"They
make my feet itch, sir. I did tell the sarge."

Daniel
sucked in a breath and released it slowly. "You're given these special
socks to wear for a reason. What's your name?"

"Private
Montgomery, sir. Call me Monty."

"Well,
Monty. It looks like you'll be coming to the Institute of Thermal Medicine with
me. Some of your toes have frostbite. You should have come to one of the
doctors and reported the discomfort before the ice-breaking drill."

"Sorry,
sir."

Daniel shook
his head. These young men were so eager to please, they didn't report health
issues if it interfered with their training.

"Is it
serious, Doc?"

"We
won't know for a few weeks. We'll admit you to the ward and keep you under
observation." The man's face fell. Daniel felt sorry for him. There was
such keen competition between the soldiers. Being sent home for this would earn
him a good ribbing by his mates. He called a nurse over to dress the man's feet
and went to find Duncan.

He stood
near the ice hole. The soldiers waiting to take their turn were lined up to one
side. "My last guy has clinical signs of cold injury. I hope it'll heal,
but we need to get him in the warmth and keep him there."

"Brigadier
Palmer mentioned the air support is heading back to the UK this afternoon. If I can swing it, you could ride back with them and admit the casualty
straight away. One of the Sea Kings should be able to drop you at the
institute."

Daniel's
heart soared. Megan had never been far from his mind. Sitting on his own in his
ice cave or huddled in his sleeping bag in a tiny tent, every quiet moment his
thoughts turned to her. If he could go home early, it would be fantastic.

"Okay.
I'll tell the casualty to prepare, and alert his commanding officer,"
Daniel said.

His fingers
went to the photograph of Megan in his pocket. His phone battery had died long
ago, so he hadn't been able to look at the photos on his phone or contact her
for days. But he'd carried her picture with him everywhere.

He couldn't
wait to hold her in his arms again.