The Doctor & the Runaway Heiress

CHAPTER TWO

THERE were sunbeams on her bedcover. She woke and the sheer wonder of sunlight on linen was enough to make her want to cry.

Someone was standing at the end of her bed. Male. With a stethoscope.

She was in hospital?

Of course. The events of the night before came surging back-or maybe only some of the events, because there seemed to be gaps. Big gaps.

Water. Dark. Terror.

Then in the water, someone holding her, yelling at her, or maybe they were yelling at someone else.

Someone fastening her to him. Large, male, solid.

‘You’re safe. You don’t need to hold on. I have you.’

Noise, lights, people.

Hospital.

‘Hi,’ the guy at the end of the bed said. ‘I’m Dr Riley Chase. Welcome to the other side.’

The other side.

She surveyed the man talking to her with a certain degree of caution. He was… gorgeous. Tall, ripped and, after the nightmare of last night, reassuringly solid.

Beautifully solid.

She took time to take him in. Detail seemed important. Detail meant real.

His face was tanned and strongly boned. His deep blue eyes were crinkled at the edges. Laughter lines? Weather lines? Weather maybe. His near black hair-a bit unkempt, a bit in need of a cut-showed signs of sun-bleaching. That’d be from weather. He was wearing cream chinos. His short-sleeved shirt was open at the throat-this guy was definitely ripped-and his stethoscope was hanging from his top pocket.

Welcome to the other side?

Gorgeous fitted the other side description, she decided. Doctors didn’t.

‘Doctors aren’t in my version of heaven,’ she said, trying her voice out. She was vaguely surprised when it worked. Nothing felt like it should work this morning.

‘It’s definitely heaven,’ he said, smiling a wide, white smile that made him look friendlier-and more heart-stoppingly gorgeous-than any doctor she’d ever met. ‘In the other place the pillows are lumpy and we’re big on castor oil and leeches.’

‘And here?’ she managed.

‘Not a leech in sight, we reserve our castor oil for emergencies and there are two pillows for every bed. And because you were soggy the angels have decreed you can have more.’ He waved an expansive hand around her not-very-expansive cubicle. ‘Luxury.’

She smiled at that. She was in a two-bed cubicle that opened out into the corridor. The nurses’ station was on the other side, giving whoever was at the station a clear view of her bed. Luxury?

‘And heaven also means your medical care’s totally free,’ he added. ‘Especially as your documents say you have travel insurance.’

Her documents?

There was enough there to give her pause. To make her take her time about saying anything else. She looked at Dr Riley Chase and he gazed calmly back at her. She had the impression that he had all the time in the world.

‘Dr Chase?’ a female voice called to him from the corridor. Maybe he didn’t have all the time in the world.

‘Unless it’s a code blue I’m busy,’ he called back. He tugged a chair to her bedside and straddled it, so he was facing her with the back of the chair between them. She knew this trick. She often wished she could use it herself but it was a guy thing. Guy thing or not, she appreciated it now. It gave the impression of friendliness, but it wasn’t overly familiar. She needed a bit of distance and maybe he sensed it.

‘You’re on suicide watch,’ he said bluntly. ‘We have a staff shortage. Are you planning on doing anything interesting?’

She thought about that for a bit. Felt a bit angry. Felt a bit stupid.

‘We’re struggling with priorities,’ he said, maybe sensing her warring emotions. Feeling the need to be apologetic. ‘Olive Matchens had a heart attack last night. She’s a nice old lady. We’re transferring her to Sydney for a coronary bypass but until the ambulance is free I’d like a nurse to stay with her all the time. Only we need to watch you.’

‘I don’t need to be watched.’

‘Okay, promise I have nothing to worry about?’ He smiled again, and his smile… Wow. A girl could wake up to that smile and think it had been worth treading water for a night or more or more to find it. ‘You need to know you’re at risk of that cod liver oil if you break your promise,’ he warned, and his smile became wicked. Teasing.

But there was seriousness behind his words. She knew she had to respond.

‘I wasn’t trying to do anything silly.’ She tried to sound sure but it came out a whisper.

‘Pardon?’

‘I was not trying to suicide.’ Her second attempt came out loud. Very loud. The noises outside the cubicle stopped abruptly and she felt like hauling her bedclothes up to her nose and disappearing under them.

‘Your mother’s frantic. She’s on her way to Heathrow airport right now,’ Dr Chase told her. ‘With someone called Roger. Their plane’s due to leave in two hours unless I call to stop them.’

Forget hiding under the bedclothes. She dropped her sheet and stared at him in horror. ‘My mother and Roger?’

‘They sound appalled. They know you’re safe, but you’ve terrified them.’

‘Excellent.’

‘That’s not very-’

‘Kind? No, it’s not. My mother still wants me to marry Roger.’

‘This sounds complicated,’ he said, sounding like he was beginning to enjoy himself. Then someone murmured something out in the corridor and he glanced at his watch and grimaced. ‘Okay, let’s give you the benefit of the doubt, and let Roger and Mum sweat for a bit. What hurts?’

‘Nothing.’

‘You know, I’m very sure it does.’

She thought about it. He watched as she thought about it.

He saw more than she wanted him to see, she decided. His gaze was calm but intent, giving her all the time in the world to answer but getting answers of his own while he waited. She could see exactly what he was doing, but there was no escaping those calm, intelligent eyes.

‘My chest,’ she said at last, reluctantly.

‘There’s a bit of water in your lungs. We’ve X-rayed. It’s nice clean ocean water and you’re a healthy young woman. It shouldn’t cause problems but we’re giving you antibiotics in case, and you need to stay propped up on pillows and under observation until it clears. Your breathing’s a bit ragged and it’ll cause a bit of discomfort. We’re starting you on diuretics-something to dry you out a bit. There’ll be no long-term issues as long as you obey instructions.’

‘My arms…’

‘Harness,’ he said ruefully. ‘We try and pad ’em.’

‘We?’

‘New South Wales North Coast Flight-Aid.’

There was an echo-the way he said the name. Some time last night those words had been said-maybe even on the way up into the helicopter.

‘New South Wales North Coast Flight-Aid, ma’am, at your service.’

Same voice. Same man?

‘Were you the one who pulled me up?’ she asked, astounded.

‘I was,’ he said, modestly. ‘You were wet.’

‘Wet?’ She felt… disconcerted to say the least.

‘Six years in med school,’ he said proudly. ‘Then four years of emergency medicine training, plus more training courses than you can imagine to get the rescue stuff right. Put it all together and I can definitely state that you were wet.’ He took her wrist as he talked, feeling her pulse. Watching her intently. ‘So, arms and chest are sore. Toes?’

‘They’re fine. Though I was a bit worried about them last night,’ she admitted.

‘You were very cold.’ He turned his attention to the end of the bed, tugged up the coverlet from the bottom and exposed them. Her toes were painted pink, with silver stars. Her pre-bridal gift from one of her bridesmaids.

Not the bridesmaid she’d caught with Roger. One of the other five.

‘Wiggle ’em,’ Riley said, and she hauled her thoughts back to toes. She’d much rather think of toes than Roger. Or bridesmaids.

So she wiggled then and she admired them wiggling. Last night she’d decided sharks had taken them, and she hadn’t much cared.

Today… ‘Boy, am I pleased to see you guys again,’ she confessed.

‘And I bet they’re pleased to see you. Don’t take them nighttime swimming again. Ever. Can I hear your chest?’

‘Yes, Doctor,’ she said, deciding submission was a good way to go. She pushed herself up on her pillows-or she tried. Her body was amazingly heavy.

She got about six inches up and Riley was right by her, supporting her, adjusting the pillows behind her.

He felt…

Well, that was an inappropriate thing to think. He didn’t feel anything. He was a doctor.

But, doctor or not, he was very male, and very close. And still gorgeous. He was… mid-thirties? Hard to be sure. He was a bit weathered. He hadn’t spent his life behind a desk.

He wouldn’t have, she decided, if he was a rescue doctor.

If it wasn’t for this man she’d be very, very dead.

What do you say to a man who saved your life?

‘I need to thank you,’ she said in a small voice, but he finished what he had to do before he replied.

‘Cough,’ he ordered.

She coughed.

‘And again? Good,’ he said at last, and she repeated her thank you.

‘My pleasure,’ he said, and she expected him to head for the door but instead he went back to his first position. Perched on the backward chair. Seemingly ready to chat.

‘Aren’t you needed somewhere else?’ she asked, starting to feel uneasy.

‘I’m always needed,’ he said, with a mock modesty that had her wanting to smile. ‘Dr Indispensable.’

‘So you save maidens all night and save everyone else during the day.’

‘I’m not normally a duty doctor but we’re having staffing issues. Plus I haven’t finished saving this maiden yet. You want to tell me why Roger and Mum told us you were suiciding?’

‘I wasn’t.’

‘I get the feeling you weren’t. Or at least that you changed your mind.’

‘I got caught in an undertow,’ she snapped, and then winced. She sagged back onto her pillows, feeling heavy and tired and very, very stupid. ‘I’m sorry. I accept it looks like suicide, but I just went for a swim.’

‘After dark, on an unpatrolled beach.’

‘It wasn’t completely dark. I’d been in a plane for twenty-four hours. The sea looked gorgeous, even if it was dusk. There were people everywhere, having picnics, playing cricket, splashing around in the shallows. It was lovely. I’m a strong swimmer and I swam and swam. It felt great, and I guess I let my thoughts drift. Then I realised the current had changed and I couldn’t get back.’

‘You must be a strong swimmer,’ he said, ‘to stay afloat for eight hours.’

‘Is that how long I was there?’

‘At least. We pulled you up at four-thirty. The sea wasn’t exactly calm. I figure you must badly want to live.’

‘I do,’ she said, and she met his gaze, unflinching. It suddenly seemed incredibly important that his man believe her. ‘I want to live more than anything in the world. You see, I don’t have to marry Roger.’

Fifteen minutes later Riley headed back to Intensive Care to check on Olive Matchens and he found himself smiling. It was a good story, told with courage and humour.

It seemed Pippa had been engaged for years to her childhood sweetheart. Her fiancé was the son of Daddy’s partner, financial whiz, almost part of the family. Only boring, boring, boring. But what could she do? She’d told him she’d marry him when she’d been seventeen. He’d been twenty and gorgeous and she had been smitten to the eyeballs. Then he was lovely and patient while she’d done her own thing. She’d even broken off the engagement for a while, gone out with other guys, but all the time Roger was waiting in the wings, constantly telling her he loved her. He was a nice guy. Daddy and Mummy thought he was wonderful. There was no one else. She’d turned thirty. She’d really like a family. Her voice had faltered a little when she said that, but then she’d gone back to feisty. Why not marry him?

Reason? Two days before the wedding she’d found him in bed with a bridesmaid.

Bomb blast didn’t begin to describe the fallout from cancelling the wedding, she’d told him. She’d figured the best thing to do was escape, leave for her honeymoon alone.

She’d arrived in Australia, she’d walked into the luxury honeymoon suite Roger had booked, in one of Australian’s most beautiful hotels, she’d looked out at the sea, and she’d thought she had her whole honeymoon ahead of her-and she didn’t have to marry Roger.

Riley grinned as he headed for Intensive Care. If there was one thing Riley loved it was a happy ending.

He thought of what would have happened if they hadn’t found her. She was alive because of his service. She was a woman who’d been given a second chance because of the skills his team offered.

And she’d use it, he thought, feeling exultant. Right now she was exhausted. She lay in bed, her face wan from strain and shock, her auburn curls matted from the seawater, her body battered and sore, and still he saw pure spirit.

It felt fantastic. Helping people survive, the adrenalin rush of search and rescue, this was his happy ending. Solitude and work and the satisfaction of making a difference.

Solitude…

The morning’s satisfaction faded a little as the nuances of the word hit home. The fact that his solitude was about to take a hit.

His daughter would be here on Friday. Lucy.

What to do with a daughter he hardly knew? Whose existence had been kept from him because he was deemed inconsequential-not important in the moneyed world Lucy must have been raised in.

There was money in the background of the woman he’d just treated, he thought. He could hear it in Pippa’s voice. English class and old money. The combination brought back enough memories to make him shudder.

But the way the woman he’d just left spoke shouldn’t make him judge her. And why was he thinking of Pippa? He now needed to focus on Lucy.

His daughter.

She was probably just coming for a fleeting visit, he decided. Her email had been curt to say the least. Flight details-arrival at Sydney airport Friday morning. An almost flippant line at the end-‘If it’s a bother don’t worry, I’ll manage.’

If it’s a bother… To have a daughter.

Family.

He didn’t do family. He never had.

He didn’t know how.

But he could give her a place to stay. That had to be a start. He lived in a huge old house right by the hospital. Once upon a time the house had been nurses’ quarters, but nurses no longer lived on site. Big and rambling and right by the sea, it was comfortable and close and why would he want to live anywhere else?

Last year the hospital had offered to sell it to him. For a while he’d thought about it-but owning a house… That meant putting down roots and the idea made him nervous. He was fine as he was.

He could see the sea when he woke up. He had a job he loved, surf at his back door, a hospital housekeeper making sure the rest of the house didn’t fall apart… He had the perfect life.

His daughter wasn’t part of it. She was an eighteen-year-old he’d never met-a kid on an adventure to Australia, meeting a father she didn’t know. Had she always known who he was? Why had she searched for him? Had she been defying Mummy?

And at the thought of her mother he felt anger almost overwhelm him. To not tell him that they’d had a child…

Anger was not useful. Put it aside, he told himself. He’d meet Lucy and see if she wanted him to be a part of her life, no matter how tiny.

She’d probably only stay a day or two. That thought made him feel more empty than before he’d known of her existence. It was like a tiny piece of family was being offered, but he already knew it’d be snatched away again.

Story of his life.

He shook his head, managed a mocking smile and shook off his dumb self-pity. Olive Matchens was waiting. Work was waiting.

He’d saved Phillippa Penelope Fotheringham. Pippa.

He did have the perfect, solitary life.

Once Riley left, an efficient little nurse called Jancey swept into Pippa’s cubicle to tidy up the edges. Someone was collecting her toiletries from the hotel, she told Pippa, and she bounced off to set up a call to Pippa’s mother. ‘Dr Chase’s instructions. He says if you don’t talk to her she’ll be on a plane before you know it.’

It was sensible advice. Jancey put the call through and Pippa managed to talk to her. Trying not to cough.

‘I’m fine, Mum. I have a bit of water on my chest-that’s why I sound breathless-but, honestly, there’s nothing wrong with me apart from feeling stupid. The hospital’s excellent. I’m only here for observation. I imagine I’ll be out of here tomorrow.’

And then the hardest bit.

‘No, I was not trying to kill myself. You need to believe that because it’s true. I was just stupid. I was distracted and I was tired. I went swimming at dusk because the water looked lovely. I was caught in the undertow and swept out. That’s all. I would never…’

Then…

‘No, I don’t wish to talk to Roger. I understand he’s sorry, but there’s nothing I can do about that. Tell him it’s over, final, there’s no way we’re getting married. If Roger comes I won’t see him. I’m sorry, Mum, but I need to go to sleep now. I’ll ring you back tomorrow. You. Not Roger.’

Done. Jancey took back the phone and smiled down at her, sensing she’d just done something momentous. Pippa smiled back at the cheery little nurse and suddenly Jancey offered her a high-five. ‘You go, girl,’ she said, and grinned.

She managed a wobbly smile, high-fived in return and slipped back onto her pillows feeling… fantastic.

She slept again, and the nightmare of last night was replaced by Jancey’s high-five-and by the smile of Dr Riley Chase.

Two lovely people in her bright new world.

Olive seemed stable. Riley was well overdue for a sleep but problems were everywhere.

School holidays. Accidents. Flu. It seemed half the hospital staff was on leave or ill. And now they had a kid in labour. Amy. Sixteen years old. Alone.

She should not be here.

How could they send her away?’

‘We need someone to stay with Amy,’ Riley decreed. ‘She’s terrified.’

‘I know.’ Coral, the hospital’s nurse-administrator, was sounding harassed. ‘But we can’t special her. I have no midwives on duty. Rachel’s on leave and I’ve just sent Maryanne home with a temp of thirty-nine. I know she shouldn’t be alone but it was her choice to come here. She knows she should be in Sydney. Meanwhile, I’m doing the best I can. I’ve put her in with your patient, Pippa.’

Coral sounded as weary as Riley felt. ‘That’s why I could free up a nurse for Olive,’ she said. ‘I’m juggling too many balls here, Riley, so cut me some slack. Putting Amy in the labour ward now will scare her and she’ll be alone most of the time. Putting her in with mums who already have their babies isn’t going to work either. The obs cubicle is close to the nurses’ station, and I’m hoping your lady will be nice to her. I’ve put them both on fifteen-minute obs and that’s the best I can do. Meanwhile, we have Troy Haddon in Emergency-he’s been playing with those Styrofoam balls you put in beanbags. He and his mate were squirting them out their noses to see who could make them go furthest, and one’s gone up instead of out. Can you deal with it?’

‘Sure,’ Riley said, resigned. So much for sleep.

Pippa woke and someone was sobbing in the next bed. Really sobbing. Fear, loneliness and hopelessness were wrapped in the one heart-rending sound.

She turned, cautiously, to see. Right now caution seemed the way to go. The world still seemed vaguely dangerous.

When she’d gone to sleep the bed next to her had been empty. Now she had a neighbour.

The girl was young. Very young. Sixteen, maybe? She was so dark her eyes practically disappeared in her face. Her face was swollen; desperate. Terrified.

Last night’s drama disappeared. Pippa was out of bed in an instant.

‘Hey.’ She touched the girl on the hand, and then on the face as she didn’t react. ‘What’s wrong? Can I call the nurse for you?’

The girl turned to her with a look of such despair that Pippa’s heart twisted.

‘It hurts,’ the girl whispered. ‘Oh, it hurts. I want to go home.’ She sobbed and rolled onto her back.

She was very pregnant.

Very pregnant.

As Pippa watched she saw the girl’s belly tighten in a contraction. Instinctively she took the girl’s hand and held, hard. The girl moaned, a long, low moan that contained despair as well as pain, and she clutched Pippa’s hand like it was a lifeline.

Pippa hit the bell. This kid needed help. A midwife. A support team. She looked more closely at the girl’s tear-drenched face and thought she was sixteen, seventeen at most.

She needed her mum.

The nurses’ station seemed deserted. Pippa, however, knew the drill.

Hospital bells were designed to only ring once, and light a signal at the nurses’ station, so pushing it again would achieve nothing. Unless…

She checked behind the bed, found the master switch, flicked it off and on again-and pushed the bell again.

Another satisfactory peal.

And another.

Three minutes later someone finally appeared. Dr Riley Chase. Looking harassed.

‘She needs help,’ Pippa said before Riley could get a word in, and Riley looked at the kid in the bed and looked at Pippa. Assessing them both before answering.

‘You should be in bed.’

‘She needs a midwife,’ Pippa snapped. ‘A support person. She shouldn’t be alone.’

‘I know.’ He raked long fingers though his already rumpled hair, took a deep breath and focused. He glanced down the corridor as if he was hoping someone else would appear.

No one did.

He stepped into the cubicle.

Once again, as soon as he entered, she had the impression that he had all the time in the world. He’d crossed over from the outside world, and now he was totally in this one-only this time he was focused solely on the girl in labour.

The contraction was over. The girl was burrowed into the pillows, whimpering.

‘Hey, Amy, I’m so sorry we’ve had to leave you alone,’ he told her, touching her tear-drenched face with gentle fingers. ‘It’s hard to do this and it’s even harder to do it alone. I did warn you. This is why I wanted you to stay in Sydney. But now you’re here, we just have to get through it. And we will.’

Pippa backed away as he took both Amy’s hands in his and held. It was like he was imparting strength-and Pippa remembered how he’d felt holding her last night and thought there was no one she’d rather have hold her. The guy exuded strength.

But maybe strength was the wrong word. Trust? More. It was a combination so powerful that she wasn’t the least bit surprised that Amy stopped whimpering and met his gaze directly. Amy trusted him, she thought. For a teenager in such trouble…

‘I want to go home,’ Amy whimpered.

‘I know you do. If I were you, I’d be on the first bus out of here,’ Riley told her. ‘But there’s the little problem of your baby. He wants out.’

‘It hurts. I want my mum.’

‘I wish your mum could be here,’ he said.

‘Mum thought it was stupid to come.’

‘So she did.’ Riley’s face set a little and Pippa guessed there’d been conflict. ‘So now you’re doing this on your own. But you can do it, Amy.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Can I check and see how your baby’s doing?’

Pippa didn’t need prompting to leave them to it. She scooted back to her bed and Riley gave her a smile of thanks as he hauled the dividing curtain closed.

‘You’ve been getting to know your neighbour,’ he said to Amy. ‘Have you two been introduced?’

Pippa was back in bed with the covers up, a curtain between them.

‘No,’ Amy whispered.

‘Pippa, your neighbour is Amy. Amy, your neighbour is Pippa. Pippa went for a swim after dark last night and came close to being shark meat.’

‘Why’d you go for a swim at dark?’ Despite her pain, Amy’s attention was caught-maybe that’s what Riley intended.

‘I was getting over guy problems,’ Pippa confessed. She was speaking to a closed curtain, and it didn’t seem to matter what she admitted now. And she might be able to help, she thought. If admitting stupidity could keep Amy’s attention from fear, from loneliness, from pain, then pride was a small price to pay.

‘You got guy problems?’ Amy’s voice was a bit muffled.

‘I was about to be married. I caught him sleeping with one of my bridesmaids.’

‘Yikes.’ Amy was having a reasonable break from contractions now, settling as the pain eased and she wasn’t alone any more. ‘You clobber him?’

‘I should have,’ Pippa said. ‘Instead I went swimming, got caught in the undertow and got saved by Dr Chase.’

‘That’s me,’ Riley said modestly. ‘Saving maidens is what I do. Amy, you’re doing really well. You’re almost four centimetres dilated, which means the baby’s really pushing. I can give you something for the pain if you like…’

‘I don’t want injections.’ It was a terrified gasp.

‘Then you need to practise the breathing we taught you. Can you-?’

But he couldn’t finish. Jancey’s head appeared round the door, looking close to panic.

‘Hubert Trotter’s just come in,’ she said. ‘He’s almost chopped his big toe off with an axe and he’s bleeding like a stuck pig. Riley, you need to come.’

‘Give me strength,’ Riley said, and rose. ‘Can you stay with Amy?’

‘Dotty Simond’s asthma…’ she said.

Riley closed his eyes. The gesture was fleeting, though, and when he opened them again he looked calm and in control and like nothing was bothering him at all.

‘Amy, I’ll be back as soon as I can,’ he said, but Amy was clutching his hand like a lifeline.

‘No. Please.’

‘Pippa’s in the next bed,’ he started. ‘You’re not by yourself.’

But suddenly Pippa wasn’t in the next bed. Enough. She was out of bed, pushing the curtains apart and meeting Riley’s gaze full on.

‘Amy needs a midwife.’

‘I know she does,’ Riley said. ‘We’re short-staffed. There isn’t one.’

‘Then someone else.’

‘Believe me, if I could then I’d find someone. I’d stay here myself. I can’t.’

She believed him. She thought, fast.

This guy had saved her life. This hospital had been here for her. And more… Amy was a child.

‘Then use me,’ she said.

‘You…’

‘I know there’s still water on my lungs,’ she said. ‘And I know I need to stay here until it clears. But my breathing’s okay. I’m here for observation more than care, and if you can find me something more respectable than this appalling hospital gown, I’ll sit by Amy until she needs to push. Then I’ll call you.’

He looked at her like she’d grown two heads. ‘There’s no need-’

‘Yes, there is,’ Jancey said, looking panicked. ‘Hubert needs help now.’

‘We can’t ask-’

‘Then don’t ask,’ Pippa said. ‘And don’t worry. You can go back to your toes and asthma. I’ll call for help when I need it, either for myself or for Amy. And I do know enough to call. I may be a twit when it comes to night swimming, but in my other life I’m a qualified nurse. Good basic qualifications, plus theatre training, plus intensive care, and guess what? Midwifery. You want to phone my old hospital and check?’

She grabbed the clipboard and pen Jancey was carrying and wrote the name of her hospital and her boss’s name. ‘Hospitals work round the clock. Checking my references is easy. Ring them fast, or trust me to take care of Amy while you two save the world. Or at least Hubert’s toe. Off you go, and Amy and I will get on with delivering Amy’s baby. We can do this, Amy. You and me… women are awesome. Together there’s nothing we can’t do.’

‘You want me to ring and check she’s who she says she is?’ Jancey asked, dubious. He and Jancey needed to head in different directions, fast. Neither of them liked leaving Pippa and Amy together.

‘When you’ve got time.’

‘I don’t have time,’ Jancey said. ‘Do we trust her?’

‘She’s a warm body and she’s offered,’ Riley said. ‘Do we have a choice?’

‘Hey!’ They were about to head around the bend in the corridor but Pippa’s voice made them turn. She’d stepped out the door to call after them.

She looked…

Amazing, Riley thought, and, stressed or not, he almost smiled. She had brilliant red curls that hadn’t seen a hairbrush since her big swim. She was slight-really slight-barely tall enough to reach his chin. Her pale skin had been made more pale by the night’s horror. Her green eyes had been made even larger.

From the neck up she was eye-catchingly lovely. But from the neck down…

Her hospital gown was flopping loosely around her. She was clutching it behind. She had nothing else on.

‘The deal is clothes,’ she said with asperity. ‘Bleeding to death takes precedence but next is my dignity. I need at least another gown so I can have one on backwards, one on forwards.’

Riley chuckled. It was the first time for twelve hours he’d felt like laughing and it felt great.

‘Can you fix it?’ he asked Jancey.

‘Mrs Rogers in Surgical left her pink fluffy dressing gown behind when she went home this morning,’ Jancey said, smiling herself. ‘I don’t think she’d mind…’

‘Does it have buttons?’ Pippa demanded.

‘Yes,’ Jancey said. ‘And a bow at the neck. The bow glitters.’

‘That’ll cheer us up,’ Pippa said. ‘And heaven knows Amy and I both need it.’

Assisting at a birth settled her as nothing else could.

Amy needed someone she knew, a partner, a mother, a friend, but there seemed to be no one. Her labour was progressing slowly, and left to herself she would have given in to terror.

What sort of hospital was this that provided no support?

To be fair, though, Pippa decided as the afternoon wore on, most hospitals checked labouring mothers only every fifteen minutes or so, making sure things were progressing smoothly.

The mother’s support person was supposed to provide company.

‘So where’s your family?’ she asked. They were listening to music-some of Amy’s favourites. Pippa had needed to do some seriously fast organisation there.

‘Home,’ Amy said unhelpfully. ‘They made me come.’

‘Who made you come?’

‘Doc Riley. There’s not a doctor at Dry Gum Creek, and they don’t have babies there if Doc Riley can help it. Mostly the mums come here but Doc Riley said I needed… young mum stuff. So they took me to Sydney Central, only it was really scary. And lonely. I stayed a week and I’d had enough. There was no way I could get home but I knew Doc Riley was here so I got the bus. But the pains started just as I reached here. And I’m not going back to Sydney Central.’

That explained why Amy was in a relatively small hospital with seemingly not much obstetric support on hand, Pippa thought, deciding to be a little less judgmental about Amy being on her own.

‘Why didn’t your mum come with you?’

‘Mum says it’s stupid to come to hospital, but she didn’t tell me it hurt like this. If you hadn’t been here…’ Another contraction hit and she clung to Pippa with a grip like a vice.

‘I’m here,’ Pippa told her as Amy rode out the contraction. ‘Hold as tight as you need. Yesterday I was staring death in the face. It’s kind of nice to be staring at birth.’

Riley was in the final stages of stitching Hubert Trotter’s toe when Jancey stuck her head round the partition.

‘She’s good,’ she said.

‘Who’s good?’

‘Our night swimmer. She’s been up to the kids’ ward in her gorgeous silver and pink dressing gown, and she did the best plea you ever heard. Told them all about Amy having a baby alone. Talk about pathos. She’s borrowed Lacey Sutherland’s spare MP3 player. She conned one of the mums into going home to get speakers. She’s hooked up the internet in the nurses’ station and she’s downloaded stuff so she has Amy’s favourite music playing right now. She also rang the local poster shop. I don’t know what she promised them but the guys were here in minutes. Amy’s now surrounded by posters of her favourite telly stars. Oh, and one of the mums donated a giraffe, almost as tall as Amy. Pippa has Amy so bemused she’s almost forgotten she’s in labour.’

‘She’s a patient herself,’ Riley said, stunned.

‘Try telling her that. Oh, and I managed to ring the number she gave us in England. I had a minute and I couldn’t help myself-she had me fascinated. Her boss says send her back, now. Seems your Pippa left to get married two weeks ago and they miss her. Talk about glowing references. Can we keep her?’

‘I’m not sure how we can.’

‘Just don’t give her clothes,’ Jancey said, grinning. ‘I’m off duty now. We’re two nurses short for night shift but I’ve already stretched my shift to twelve hours. How long have you stretched yours?’

‘Don’t ask,’ Riley said. ‘Okay, Hubert, you’re done. Pharmacy will give you something for the pain. Keep it dry, come back in tomorrow and I’ll dress it again.’

‘You’ll be in tomorrow?’ Hubert asked as Jancey disappeared.

‘Maybe.’

‘You’re supposed to be the flying doc, not the base doc.’

‘Yeah,’ Riley said. ‘Can you ring the union and let them know?’

‘Riley?’

He sighed and straightened. ‘That’d be me.’

‘Amy’s moving into second stage.’ It was Mary, the night nurse who’d just started her shift. ‘Pippa says you need to come straight away.’

She’d been having doubts about the ability of this small hospital to prepare adequately for a teenage birth, but the transition from the cubicle near the nurses’ station to the labour ward was seamless.

A nurse and an orderly pushed Amy’s bed into a labour room that was homey and comforting, but still had everything Pippa was accustomed to seeing. Riley was already waiting.

He smiled down at Amy, and Pippa was starting to know that smile. It said nothing was interfering with what he was doing right now, and his attention was all on Amy.

He hardly acknowledged her. She’d walked beside Amy’s bed simply because Amy had still been clutching her hand. The moment Amy no longer needed her she should back away.

She was in a fully equipped labour ward. A doctor, a nurse, an orderly. She could leave now but Amy was still clinging. Her fear was palpable and at an unobtrusive signal from Riley it was the nurse and the orderly who slipped away.

What was going on?

‘Hey, Ames, they tell me your baby’s really close.’ Riley took Amy’s free hand-and Pippa thought if she was Amy she’d feel better right now.

But maybe that wasn’t sensible. Maybe that was a dose of hormones caused by Riley’s great smile.

‘Don’t tell me you’re an obstetrician, too,’ she said, and then she decided her voice sounded a bit sharp. That was uncalled for. She was, however, seriously thrown. Did this guy ever sleep? Hanging from ropes, rescuing stupid tourists in the middle of the night, sewing on toes. Delivering babies. But…

‘Amy knows I’m not an obstetrician,’ Riley said, still talking to Amy. ‘We have an obstetrician on standby. Dr Louise will be here in a heartbeat if we need her, but Amy has asked if I can deliver her baby.’ He glanced at Pippa then, and his smile finally encompassed her. ‘Amy has need of friends. It seems she’s found you as well as me. I know it’s unfair but are you okay to stay with us for a bit longer?’

‘Of course I can. If I can sit down.’

His smile was a reward all on its own. There was also relief behind his smile, and she thought he’d be feeling the responsibility of being Amy’s sole care person. Plus doctor.

‘Okay, then, Amy,’ he said, taking her hand just as a contraction started. ‘You have me, you have Pippa and you have you. Pippa has her chair. We have our crib all ready. All we need now is one baby to make our team complete. So now you push. Pippa’s your cheerleader and I’ll stand around and catch.’

Then, as the next contraction swelled to its full power, he moved straight back into doctor mode. He was a friend on the surface but underneath he was pure doctor, Pippa thought as she coached Amy with her breathing.

And he was some doctor.

Amy was little more than a child herself. Her pelvis seemed barely mature-if Pippa had to guess she’d have said the girl looked like she’d been badly malnourished. If this was Pippa’s hospital back in the UK, Amy could well have been advised to have had her baby by Caesarean section.

‘C-section’s never been option,’ Riley told her in an undertone as Amy gasped between contractions. How had he guessed what she was thinking? ‘Neither is it going to be. Not if I can help it.’

‘Why?’

‘Amy comes from one of the most barren places in the country,’ he told her. ‘I persuaded her-against her mother’s wishes-to come to the city this time. Next time she may well be on her own in the middle of nowhere. You want to add scar tissue to that mix?’

Amy was pushing away the gas and he took her hand again. ‘Hey, Amy, you’re brilliant, you’re getting so much closer. Let Pippa hold the gas so you can try again. Three deep breaths, here we go. Up the hill, up, up, up, push for all you’re worth, yes, fantastic, breathe out, down the other side. You’ve stretched a little more, a little more. Half a dozen more of those and I reckon this baby will be here.’

It wasn’t quite half a dozen. Amy sobbed and swore and gripped and pushed and screamed…

Pippa held on, encouraging her any way she could, and so did Riley. Two coaches, two lifelines for this slip of a kid with only them between herself and terror.

But finally she did it. Pippa was already emotional, and when finally Amy’s tiny baby girl arrived into the outside world, as Pippa held Amy up so she could see her daughter’s first breath, as Riley held her to show Amy she was perfect, Pippa discovered she was weeping.

Riley slipped the baby onto Amy’s breast and Amy cradled her as if she was the most miraculous thing she’d ever seen. As, of course, she was.

The baby nuzzled, instinctively searching. Pippa guided her a little, helping just enough but not enough to intrude. The baby found what she was looking for and Amy looked down in incredulous wonder.

‘I’m feeding her. I’ve had a baby.’

‘You have a daughter,’ Riley said, smiling and smiling, and Pippa glanced up at him and was astonished to see his eyes weren’t exactly dry either.

Surely a rough Aussie search and rescue doctor…

Just concentrate on your own eyes, she told herself, and sniffed.

‘She’s beautiful,’ she said, trying to keep her voice steady. She touched the baby’s damp little head with wonder. No matter how many births she’d seen, this never stopped being a miracle. ‘Have you thought about what you might call her?’

And Amy looked up at her as if she was a bit simple-as indeed she felt. Amy had just performed the most amazing, complex, difficult feat a human could ever perform-and Pippa had simply held her hand.

‘I’m calling her Riley, of course,’ Amy whispered, and smiled and smiled. ‘Boy or girl, I decided it months ago. And I’m keeping her,’ she said, a touch defiantly.

Riley smiled. ‘Who’s arguing? It’d take a team stronger than us to get Baby Riley away from her mum right now.’

‘Have you been thinking of adoption?’ Pippa said, because if indeed it was on the table it needed to be raised.

‘Mum said I had to,’ Amy said simply. ‘But Doc Riley said it was up to me. He’ll support me. Won’t you, Doc?’

‘It will be hard,’ Riley said, gravely now. ‘You know that.’

‘I know,’ Amy said. ‘But me and this kid… after this, I can do anything. She’s going to have all the stuff I didn’t. She’ll go to school and everything.’ She peeped a smile up at Riley, her courage and strength returning in waves with the adrenalin of post-birth wonder. ‘Maybe she’ll even be a doc like you.’

‘Why not?’ Riley said. ‘If that’s what you both want, we’ll make sure there are people who’ll help you every step of the way.’ He hesitated. ‘But, Amy, Riley’s best chance of getting that is if you don’t have six more babies in the next six years.’

‘You don’t need to tell me that,’ Amy said tartly, and she kissed her baby’s head. ‘No fear. I had this one because I was stupid. Me and her… we’re not going to be stupid, ever again.’

Amy was wheeled away, up to Maternity to be in a ward with two other young mums. ‘Because that’s where you’ll learn the most,’ Riley told her. Pippa promised to visit her later, but Amy was too intent on her new little Riley to listen.

Pippa’s legs were sagging. She sat, suddenly, and felt extraordinarily relieved the chair was under her. Even her chair felt wobbly.

Riley was beside her in an instant, hitting the buzzer. ‘We need a trolley,’ he told Mary when she appeared. ‘Fast, Mary, or I’ll have to pick her up and carry her.’

‘In your dreams,’ Pippa managed, with a pathetic attempt at dignity. ‘No one carries me.’

‘I believe I already have.’

‘With the help of a helicopter.’ She was trying to sound cheeky but she wasn’t succeeding. In truth, the room was spinning.

‘Warren’s the only orderly,’ Mary said. ‘The trolley will be ten minutes. You want me to fetch a wheelchair?’

‘It’s okay,’ Pippa said. ‘I’ll be right in a minute.’

‘You’ll be back in bed in a minute.’ And to her astonishment Riley’s eyes were gleaming with laughter and with challenge. ‘Let’s do without Warren or wheelchairs,’ he said. ‘Fancy inferring I’m inferior to our helicopter.’ And before she could realise what he intended, he lifted her high into his arms.

She squeaked.

Mary giggled.

‘He does weights,’ Mary told Pippa, bemused. ‘What you said… that’s a red rag to a bull.’

‘He’s crazy.’

‘He is at that,’ Mary said, chuckling and holding the door wide to let Riley pass. ‘You try getting workers’ compensation after this, Doc Riley.’

‘Workers’ comp is for wimps.’ Riley had her secure, solid against his chest, striding briskly along the corridor, past rooms full of patients and visitors, carrying her as if she was a featherweight and not a grown woman in trouble.

Trouble was right. If a doctor did this in her training hospital… To a nurse…

Worse. She was a patient. This was totally unprofessional.

She needed to struggle but she didn’t have the energy. Or the will.

Trouble?

She was feeling like she really was in trouble. Like she wasn’t exactly sure what was going on. He was making her feel…

‘I should never have allowed you to help,’ he muttered as he strode, his laughter giving way to concern. Maybe he was feeling just how weak she was.

She wasn’t really this weak, she thought. Or maybe she was.

She thought about it, or she sort of thought about it. The feel of his arms holding her… the solid muscles of his chest… the sensation of being held… It was stopping lots of thoughts-and starting others that were entirely inappropriate.

This was why they’d invented trolleys, she thought, to stop nurses… to stop patients… to stop her being carried by someone like Riley. It was so inappropriate on so many levels. It made her feel…

‘You’re exhausted,’ he said. ‘It was totally unprofessional of me to allow you to help.’

That shook her out of the very inappropriate route her thoughts were taking. Out of her exhaustion. Almost out of her disorientation.

‘To allow Amy to have a support person?’ she demanded, forcing her voice to be firm. ‘What does that have to do with lack of professionalism?’

‘You weren’t her support person.’

‘I was. If you hadn’t allowed me to be, I would have discharged myself and come right back. Amy would have said “Yes, please,” and it would have been exactly the same except that you wouldn’t be carrying me back to bed.’

‘In your extraordinary bathrobe,’ he finished, and the laughter had returned. It felt good, she decided. To make this man laugh…

And there her thoughts went again, off on a weird and crazy tangent. She was totally disoriented by the feel of his body against hers. He turned into the next corridor, and the turning made her feel a bit dizzy and she clutched.

He swore. ‘Of all the stupid…’

‘It’s not stupid,’ she managed, steadying again. ‘It’s wonderful. Last night you saved my life. This afternoon we’ve helped Amy have her baby. You’ve done a fantastic twenty-four hours’ work, Dr Chase. Did I tell you I think you’re wonderful?’

Mary bobbed up beside them, still chuckling.

‘Don’t tell him that,’ she begged. ‘Everyone does. It gives him the biggest head. Riley, really, are you about to hurt your back?’

‘Nope,’ Riley said. ‘Didn’t you hear what our patient said? I’m wonderful. Practically Superman. You can’t hurt your back if you’re Superman.’

‘Superman or not, Coral says to tell you that you can’t be a doctor in this hospital unless you get some sleep,’ Mary retorted. ‘Coral said you’re to leave and go to bed. Now.’

‘Immediately?’

‘Put Pippa down first, but leave the tucking in to me,’ Mary ordered, as they reached Pippa’s bed. ‘Off you go, Dr Superman. Sweet dreams.’

‘I need to say thank you,’ Pippa managed.

‘So say thank you,’ Mary said, sounding severe. ‘Fast.’

Riley set Pippa down. He straightened and she felt a queer jolt of loss. To be held and then released…

She was more exhausted than she’d thought. She wasn’t making sense, even to herself.

Riley was smiling down at her, with that amazing, heart-stopping smile. A lifesaver of a smile. ‘It’s us who should thank you,’ he said. ‘You were great.’

Her pillows were wonderful. Life was wonderful.

Riley was wonderful.

‘You are Superman,’ she whispered. ‘You’ve saved my life-in more ways than one.’

‘It’s what I do,’ Riley said. ‘Superheroes R Us. Come on, Mary, let’s see if we can find some tall buildings to leap.’

‘You can leap all the tall buildings you want, as long as you do it off duty,’ Mary said tartly.

‘Goodnight, then, Pippa,’ Riley said. ‘We both know what to do.’

Sleep. It sounded good.

She slept, smiling.

She slept, thinking of Riley Chase.

A baby called Riley. A little girl…

Eighteen years ago his daughter had been born and he hadn’t known. Marguerite had chosen to have her alone, or with her formidable parents, rather than let him into her life.

He’d thought he’d loved her. He’d thought she’d loved him.

He had no idea what love was. What family was.

He’d watched Pippa with Amy, and felt the strength between them, the instant bonding of two strong women. That was what he didn’t get. Didn’t trust. Bonding.

Family.

His daughter was coming. It was doing his head in; delivering Amy’s baby, thinking back to how it could have been if he’d been deemed worth being a partner, a father. Family.

Yeah, like that was going to happen. He needed to sleep. Get his head under control.

Or surf. Better. No matter how tired he was, surf helped.

He strode out of the hospital, headed for the beach.

The thought of Pippa stayed with him. Pippa holding a baby girl.

Too much emotion. His head felt like it might implode.

When all else failed, surf.