A Special Kind Of Family

CHAPTER FOUR

HE HAD help.

He shouldn’t have let her come. She was hurt herself. He glanced across at her but she stared straight ahead, her face determined. Like she thought he was going to stop the car and kick her out.

He didn’t have time to argue. But even if he wanted to…

She was another doctor.

Last night he’d had insight into this woman’s medical skills. Maybe it could make the difference in whether Jamie Sutherland lived or died.

Okay, he wasn’t about to argue.

He had his phone in the car cradle now. He phoned the ambulance in Campbelltown, requesting help. Then he concentrated on driving. Concentrated on what lay ahead.

‘Tell me what we’re facing,’ Erin said into the silence. He was speeding as fast as he dared without putting themselves in danger, but his foot on the accelerator must tell its own story. She knew this was life or death.

‘Jamie’s eight years old. He’s had a couple of near misses. Last time it was from a friend’s mum making peanut-butter sandwiches, not washing the knife and then making him a ham sandwich. He nearly died. This time he’s eaten half a muesli bar. His cousin told him it didn’t have nuts in. It’s chock full of ’em.’

‘His parents have what they need?’

‘They have adrenaline, antihistamine and an action plan. They’ve done everything they can, but they phoned from the car and I could hear him choking.’

‘You wasted time ringing the neighbour.’

‘I don’t have a choice,’ he said grimly. ‘Martin and Nathan aren’t safe on their own.’

‘I would have-’

‘It was quicker to phone Dulcie rather than hope you’d do it.’

She fell silent. But he could sense what she was thinking.

‘I don’t know you,’ he said at last. ‘I couldn’t trust that…’

‘Of course you couldn’t.’ She shook her head, as if convincing herself, obviously trying to see the whole picture. ‘But…if Martin and Nathan need such close supervision…if you’re the only doctor for miles…is it fair that you take on their care?’

‘Of course it’s not.’

She blinked. ‘Sorry. But…’

‘But nothing. Of course it’s not fair,’ he repeated, savagely. ‘They need a full-time carer. But they’ve both come from such appalling backgrounds that no foster-family will take them. You get Nathan, you get Michael in your life as well, and he’s dangerous. Martin’s mother is just plain weird. She only loves Martin when he’s sick so she tries to make him sick. It’s Munchausen’s by proxy syndrome. He gets sick or is hurt, she gets sympathy and attention. Martin’s starting to believe the way to affection is self-harm. Dreadful stuff. So these kids stay with me or they go into juvenile detention because there’s nowhere else secure enough for them to go.’

‘You’d take on these people…’

‘If I have to. To protect my kids.’

‘That’s crazy.’

‘Yeah,’ he said, and he thought, She’s right. It’s crazy.

Why the hell did he do it?

He’s crazy, she thought. Nuts.

Dom was focused again on his driving, on the road ahead, on getting to where they had to be without killing them both.

She’d never met such single-minded purpose.

He was…He was…

Um…no. Back in your box, she told herself, feeling weirdly off key.

She’d been off key all week. She hadn’t realised how close Charles was to proposing-she hadn’t figured how much their parents were depending on it. These last few days had been shock enough without falling for…falling for…

Whoa. No!

I must have hit my head last night, she thought. Everything before now seemed out of focus. Unimportant.

What was important was Dom.

She could help him.

‘Will you quit it with the staring?’ he said, and she caught herself.

‘Sorry. I was thinking…’

Thinking what? What should she be thinking?

Work. Of what lay before them. Of course. ‘How equipped are you?’

‘I can do surgery in the middle of the road if I need to, and I might just need to,’ he said grimly. ‘We nearly lost him last time.’ Then he visibly braced himself, and she could see he was slipping into a mode where he could work. She’d seen surgeons do this before a dicey operation. Push away the negatives. Go in full of confidence, even if their hearts should be in their boots. ‘But, hey, it’s daylight so I don’t need lights. I have the gear I need and another doctor with me-even if her footwear does leave a bit to be desired. Who needs theatres and theatre staff?’

Then, as if on cue, another car came into view. It had to be the people they were meeting, Erin thought. The car came over the hump of the hill at such high speed the rear appeared airborne.

Dom pulled off the road, fast. Well off. The Sutherlands’ car was beside them in seconds, brakes screeching, a cloud of black smoke and burnt rubber left in its wake as it skidded dangerously onto the verge. Dom was out of his car and pulling open the back door of their car almost before it stopped. Erin followed. And saw their patient.

On the back seat, cradled in his mother’s arms, lay a child, limp and blue-desperately ill. Erin only caught a fleeting glimpse-enough to make her catch her breath in dismay-before Dom was blocking her view.

She wasn’t here to look. She was here to work. Dom had his medical case on the back seat of his car. She hauled it out, laid it on the grass and tugged it open. Searching for what she needed. Seconds later Dom was laying the little boy down beside her. His hand was on Jamie’s neck, trying to find a pulse.

‘Yes,’ he said.

So there was hope. If there was still a pulse…A little air must have been getting through until now.

But no longer.

The child’s face was swollen. His mouth was open as if he’d been gasping for breath. Even without putting her fingers in his mouth-as Dom was doing now-she could see his tongue was so swollen his airway must be blocked.

His chest didn’t move.

‘Trache,’ she said into the stillness, and Dom nodded. A tracheotomy was the only way they’d save him now.

‘Scalpel and trache tube,’ he snapped.

That was what she was here for. She had what he needed out of the case, ready, before he finished the words, and was tugging a swab package open with her teeth.

Dom felt the little boy’s throat, slowing a little, acting with care. The need was urgent but not urgent enough to risk cutting in the wrong place.

Erin’s fingers held the swab, waiting for Dom to lift his hand. Behind her, Jamie’s mother started sobbing. His dad had sunk to his knees on the verge and was pleading simply, over and over, ‘Please, please, please.’

How many tracheotomies had Dom performed? She’d done them-but, then, Dom only had her word that she was who she said she was. This was no time to verify her credentials.

If Dom had looked unsure she’d offer, but Dom’s bearing was of grim intent, a man who knew what had to be done and wasn’t about to hesitate-or offer the procedure to someone he didn’t know-when hesitancy could mean Jamie’s life.

So she swabbed. She set her hands on the sides of Jamie’s head, making sure he kept motionless.

And Dom didn’t falter. He made a small, neat slit in the central neck, down to the trachea. Into the trachea.

He pressed the tube in-and the thing was done.

But this was no guarantee of life. Jamie’s body was shutting down. It had been two minutes, maybe three, since they’d arrived and she hadn’t seen any sign of breathing. He’d ceased struggling.

Dom leaned over and blew gently into the airway. Again.

And then, magically, Jamie’s chest heaved all on its own. Air sucked into the tube without Dom’s help, sucked involuntarily by lungs that knew what they needed.

Again.

And then the little boy’s eyes fluttered wide. He stared up at Dom in confusion, and the start of panic.

Dom tightened his hold so the airway couldn’t shift out of position. ‘Hey, Jamie,’ he said, firmly, surely. ‘It’s okay, mate. You ate something with peanuts in it, and your throat’s swollen. We’ve popped in a tube to help you breathe. It’s important to keep still until we get the swelling down.’

This was one smart little boy. And brave. He stared up at Dom, and Erin saw recognition; she saw the moment when he decided to trust.

He breathed on. All by himself. His chest rose and fell. Rose and fell.

He’d live.

She felt tears well behind her eyes. Unprofessional? Maybe. She didn’t care.

‘Here’s your mum and dad,’ Dom said, keeping his voice calm and prosaic, still holding Jamie tight. He raised his voice a notch, talking to the woman behind him. ‘Casey, Jamie’s breathing again. Your crying is scaring him. Rob, can you tell your son he’s going to be fine?’

It was a command, no matter how softly spoken, and Jamie’s bravery must be inherited. Jamie’s parents were themselves again in moments.

Casey brushed tears fiercely away from her face. She knelt beside Jamie and took his hand.

‘No cuddling yet,’ Dom said, but he was smiling. ‘Let’s keep Jamie nice and still until his breathing’s settled. You injected the adrenaline pen at home okay? Great. I know, it didn’t work as well as we hoped, but it gave us time. Erin, can you prepare a syringe with light sedation?’

‘Are you a nurse?’ Casey asked her, her eyes not leaving her son’s face.

‘This is Dr Carmody,’ Dom said, answering for her. ‘She’s not like the doctors you’ve met before, eh? Wellingtons must be the latest fashion for lady doctors. Do you reckon they’ll take over from white coats? They’re about as sexy, don’t you think?’

It was light banter, Erin thought. Dom was talking them all down from horror.

Herself included.

She was used to emergencies. Emergencies were what she did for a living. But even in her city emergency department, a case such as this, where a child had come so close to death, would shake her to the core.

She still needed to be professional. She did not need to cry. She never cried at work. Why the sudden urge now?

Emotions. Hormones. Her world was shifting.

Stupid. Fanciful. Undeniable.

Jamie breathed on while Erin administered light sedation. She did it without conferring but Dom watched her; watched the dose. She felt on trial. A new kid in school, desperate to please the big guy.

Or not. It was a fanciful way of thinking. She was here to help, not to think about what Dom was thinking about her.

Or to cry.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

And then, at last, the ambulance arrived. Two skilled paramedics took over. They knew Dom well. She could see they respected him. As well they might, she thought.

Jamie would need to spend the night in hospital, until the swelling subsided. ‘There’s no hospital here,’ Dom told her, regretful. ‘We have a small one but with only one doctor we had to close it. There’s a paediatrician in Campbelltown. Jamie will be in good hands.’

They loaded Jamie into the ambulance. His mother went with him.

His dad followed behind, driving the family car.

Dom and Erin were left alone, standing on the verge of a country road, with the debris of an emergency around them.

She still wanted to cry.

‘Let’s get you home,’ Dom said gently, and she made a last-ditch attempt to get herself together. And found suddenly there was a wad of tissues in her hand.

‘I’m n-not c-crying,’ she stammered. ‘I never cry.’

‘I can see that,’ he said, and he wasn’t smiling.

‘It’s just…’

‘You had a really big night last night.’ He paused. ‘Thank you,’ he said softly.

‘Thank…me?’

‘You know we only had seconds. The seconds you gave me here may well have made the difference. Thank you for being here.’

‘It’s my pleasure,’ Erin said, and subsided under her tissues, trying not to wail. ‘It’s all my pleasure.’

Charles was waiting.

They didn’t have to go into the house to find him. He was out on the road, standing beside his Porsche, looking angry.

‘Uh-oh,’ Erin said.

‘You want a medical defence?’ Dom pulled up behind the Porsche. He climbed out of the car before Erin could do the same.

‘We saved a life,’ he said, before Charles could speak. ‘Erin was great.’

But Charles’s expression didn’t relax. Given time to think, to assess the crisis for what it was, he’d have offered to help himself. But being left behind to play nursery maid would have made him…well, like he was now.

‘Did Dulcie come?’ Dom asked.

‘Yes,’ he said shortly. ‘She’s in the house with the boys.’

‘Thank you for helping out,’ Dom said, and held out his hand.

It wasn’t taken. Charles stared down at it like he didn’t know what Dom was offering.

‘I had to go, Charles,’ Erin said, then thought, Damn, that had sounded like pleading and why should she plead?

‘Of course you did,’ Charles said, obviously making an effort to sound pleasant. ‘So do we. Grab your things from the house, get rid of that footwear and we’ll leave.’

‘With Marilyn.’

Charles’s attempt at a smile faded. ‘You can’t take the dog to my mother’s house.’

‘We won’t stay on. I’ll ask my parents to take us home.’

‘You think your parents would let you keep the dog?’

‘I’m not a kid.’

‘Hey, why don’t I go inside and make sure the kids are okay?’ Dom interjected, looking mildly interested and nothing else-and Erin fought off a need to grab his arm and say stay.

She didn’t. She was a big kid. She almost felt grown up.

‘You’re okay?’ Dom asked, and that tiny gesture of caring suddenly had her feeling tears welling up again. What was wrong with her? She was turning into a wuss.

She sniffed. Loudly. ‘I’m fine,’ she managed, and he cast her a doubtful look and then nodded and headed for the house.

But when he reached the veranda he turned back. ‘I can find someone to drive you back to Melbourne if you want,’ he called.

Erin didn’t answer. She couldn’t trust herself to speak.

But Melbourne sounded good.

Marilyn aside, she didn’t want to go placidly with Charles. She didn’t want her parents-and Charles’s parents-looking reproachfully at her, making her feel sorry for Charles, making her feel sorry for them.

She’d had over twenty years of sorry. Surely that was enough. Sorry was doing her head in.

‘I mean it,’ Dom said, and went inside and closed the door.

Erin closed her eyes. Actually…the way Dom was making her feel was doing her head in.

‘Erin, what the hell’s going on?’ Charles said. ‘You’re behaving like a child.’

‘I’m not.’

‘Don’t tell me-’

‘No, don’t tell me,’ she snapped. ‘Enough. I’m sorry you’ve all got the wrong idea. You’re my friend, Charles, but you’re not my lover. And while I love my parents-and I love your parents-and I even love you in a way, but not in the way you figure I should-I need to get on with my life. My life.’

He was staring at her like she’d suddenly turned green and sprouted horns. She must have been really wimpy up until now, she thought. Why had it taken so long to stand on her own two feet?

‘It’s this guy, isn’t it?’ he demanded. ‘This is crazy.’

‘It’s not Dom. I only met him last night, and what I’m saying to you now has been coming for a while. Maybe it’s about twenty years overdue.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Okay. Thank you for coming to get me, but I’m not coming with you. I need to figure myself out first. I’ll ring Mum tonight. Meanwhile tell them I’m fine, but I was put up last night by a doctor who’s the sole medical professional for fifty miles. I’d like to repay him by helping out with his kids and with his practice over Easter. If he doesn’t want that, then I’ll go back to Melbourne.’

‘With him?’ He said him like he was referring to some sort of pond scum.

‘He…Dominic…offered to find someone to drive me to Melbourne. He didn’t offer to drive me himself. There’s nothing between us, Charles. How can there be?’ She took a deep breath. ‘But despite that…Dom’s been wonderful. He’s a…a…really wonderful doctor. I need to make the offer. If he wants me, I’m staying on.’

When she came back inside Dom was sitting in the kitchen munching on another of Erin’s scones. The kids were waving goodbye to Dulcie from the back veranda. Dom glanced out the window and Charles’s Porsche was disappearing down the road. What the hell…?

‘He’s gone without you,’ he said, warily.

‘You said there was someone who could drive me to Melbourne.’ She hesitated. ‘That is, if you don’t want me to stay.’

He’d been about to take a bite of his scone. He didn’t. ‘Um…If I don’t want you to stay?’

‘I sort of thought I might be useful,’ she said, sounding uncertain. ‘Seeing Tansy’s away. If there are more emergencies. If you want me to.’

‘Is this because of the dog?’

She tilted her chin at that, a gesture he was starting to recognise. ‘I have friends in Melbourne who’d take her in. For a few days at least until I’m sorted. But I’m offering to stay here for Easter. Only if you can use me, though. I won’t stay unless I can be useful.’

She wanted to stay for Easter?

The thought took his breath away.

There were all sorts of reactions Dom ought to be feeling.

He ought to be furious she’d landed not only her dog but also herself in his care.

He ought to be wary. Charles’s body language had been un-mistakeably possesive. There was no way he wanted to be landed in a domestic dispute and this had the makings of a doozy.

He ought to be cautious about…well, about the way she was looking right now. She was a qualified doctor-a colleague-but she looked a waif. And then he thought, no. She was wearing torn jeans and a stained windcheater. She’d ditched his boots by the door and was wearing a pair of his too-big socks.

What she looked was really extraordinarily beautiful, but there was no room in his life for what he was thinking right now.

Except he was thinking it. What warm-blooded male could help but think it?

‘So you won’t kick me out?’ she asked, and her eyes warmed, just a little. As if she guessed his thought.

How could she?

‘You cook a mean hot cross scone,’ he said, cautious.

‘I can do all sorts of neat tricks,’ she said. ‘Mind, I’m a bit restricted.’ She sat down and held up a socked foot. ‘I think my dressing’s coming off.’

‘I’ll re-dress it. Do you need a painkiller?’

‘Yes,’ she said promptly. ‘Painkiller first. Then dressing.’

‘You’re telling me how to practise medicine?’

‘I’m bossy,’ she retorted, recovering spirit. ‘You need to learn that about me. I plan to run a very efficient emergency department.’

‘Run?’

‘I accepted the top job last week.’ She tried not to sound cocky-and failed. He had to smile.

‘Where?’

‘Melbourne East Emergency.’

‘How old are you?’ he demanded, astonished, and it was her turn to grin.

‘How rude. Next you’ll be asking about my love life.’

‘I’m assuming your love life is currently driving off in a huff and a Porsche.’

‘How insightful. Driving off into the sunset.’ She sighed. ‘Don’t worry about it. I’m sure I’ll make a great spinster. I’d planned to keep cats but now…maybe it’s bulldogs.’

‘You’re serious?’

‘Serious?’

‘Your boyfriend’s angry?’

‘He is so not my boyfriend,’ she said, and glowered. ‘He sort of assumed he was-he assumed all sorts of things-and when I realised…’ She shrugged. ‘Sorry. This is not your problem.’

‘So…’ He wasn’t sure where this was going. ‘Your plan is?’

‘To help you,’ she said. ‘If you admit you need help. Which, seeing you’re male, might be difficult but if you try hard I’m thinking you might come round.’

She smiled.

Her smile was extraordinary.

This woman’s life, whichever way he looked at it, was in turmoil. In the last twelve hours she’d almost died, she’d been thrown into someone else’s Easter, she’d gained a dog and she seemed to have lost a perfectly good boyfriend. And yet she could still smile.

He was feeling…stunned, he thought. He was feeling like the wisest course was to get her out of here fast.

‘You have a house in Melbourne?’

‘I have a hospital apartment. On the fourth floor.’

‘So that means…’

‘I guess I have to find another place to live.’

‘You’re swapping Charles for Marilyn?’

‘Hey, I’m not living with Charles,’ she said. ‘I’m not even sleeping with him. He’s just assumed all sorts of things I wasn’t assuming. You know, I suspect my life’s been leading up to this moment for years. I’ve spent my life pleasing my parents, pleasing my family, pleasing Charles. Then, this week, two shocks. A proposal of marriage. A near-death car crash. It’s enough to give any girl an epiphany.’

‘An epiphany,’ he said faintly.

‘Yep. Um…You know that painkiller?’

‘Your foot really does hurt?’

‘My foot really does hurt.’

Excellent. When in doubt, revert to priorities. Triage. Sore foot.

‘Okay, painkillers,’ he said, rising. ‘You want me to carry you to the surgery?’

‘Nope,’ she said. ‘No more of that, thank you very much. If I’m to be stuck here for Easter, I intend to be independent.’

‘Fine,’ he said, and had to suppress a jab of disappointment. Lifting Erin last night had been…an epiphany?

It wasn’t anything of the sort, he told himself. It was simply because he was a male and she was a female and he’d been alone too damned long. Of course his body would react like…like it really wanted to get to know Erin better.

‘No,’ she said, and he blinked.

‘Pardon?’

‘Um…’ She blushed suddenly and he stared down at her, fascinated.

‘No, what?’ he repeated, and she blushed some more.

‘I didn’t…I mean I was probably mistaken in what you were thinking. But if I’m not…’ she said, fighting for recovery and becoming suddenly astringent. ‘If I’m not then definitely no. Let’s get back to basics. Do you want me?’

Did he want her? Yes and yes and yes.

‘And enough of that, too,’ she said astringently. ‘You know very well what I meant. Do you want me as kid sitter, dog minder and medical associate over Easter?’ ‘Yes,’ he said. And he wasn’t saying a word more. This woman saw too much.

‘Then painkillers followed by lunch,’ she said. ‘And then the boys and I might like to try making another batch of hot cross buns. This time with yeast. While you go and do your doctoring, wherever you do your doctoring.’

‘I’ve told the locals I can’t come out at Easter.’

‘Then do your doctoring in your surgery,’ she told him. ‘Or paperwork or something. The boys and I will be in the kitchen. You’re free to do as you like.’

‘And if I want to be in the kitchen?’

‘That’s your choice,’ she said, suddenly prim. ‘But I’m offering you freedom to get your work done. It’s my thanks for having me and Marilyn to stay. If you want to throw a gift horse in the mouth…’

‘I believe that’s look.’

‘Sorry?’

‘You don’t throw gift horses,’ he said, and suddenly she was pink again. He liked it, he decided. He really, really liked it.

‘Whatever,’ she said, sounding suddenly breathless. ‘Same difference. All I’m saying, Dr Spencer, is that you’re free to do what you want. Treat me as your cook and child companion for Easter and get on with your life.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ he managed, and put a hand down to help her up.

She stared at it, appearing to consider. Then she slowly shook her head.

‘Nope,’ she said. ‘While we’re on platitudes…I don’t intend to jump out of any frying pan into the fire.’ Martin and Nathan were back at the door, looking hopeful. ‘Boys, can you help me up?’

She turned her gaze away from his, she waited until the little boys gave her a hand apiece and she let them haul her to her feet.

While Dom looked on, feeling…jealous?

Ridiculous.

But jealous all the same.