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Reuben met her at the door. ‘I’m winning, Mommy,’ he shouted as he sent a sponge ball flying across the living room.
‘I can see that.’
Luke crossed the room and slipped an arm around her waist. ‘Is everything okay? How did you get on with Jennifer?’
‘We got on fine. Has Reuben been good?’
She watched as he sent a toy truck careering into a legion of soldiers, catapulting them around the room.
‘Yes, Reuben’s been fine. Can I do anything for you?’
Abby leaned her head against his shoulder. Comfort was nice. Relying on someone was nice. Having some you trusted look after your child, someone that wasn’t just a childcare worker, was reassuring. Someone that felt like family. She slipped one arm around his back and put the other on his chest. The heat radiated through her, filling her with warmth and compassion that was more than just a comfort.
She lifted her head and gave him a smile. ‘Yes, you can.’ Her fingers played with the button on his shirt. ‘I want you to hold me, just like this, all night.’
Luke nodded. She needed him. For the first time in her life Abby really needed him. He kissed her on the forehead. ‘Your wish is my command,’ he whispered as they watched Reuben play.
CHAPTER TEN
ABBY’S eyes flickered over to the white board. There were currently fourteen patients in the ER, six of whom were children. It was busier than normal, with patients appearing to crawl out of the woodwork on the dull, overcast day.
Her eyes caught the tail of Luke’s white coat as he swept into the trauma room to deal with the third chest pain of the day. What were they going to do in a few days’ time when he went back to Washington? They hadn’t managed to arrange a replacement yet for Valerie Carter, their cardiologist, who’d just delivered a bouncing baby boy.
There was a little nudge at her elbow. David Fairgreaves, for once dressed immaculately in theatre scrubs, gave her a little smile. ‘It’s day four and Jennifer Taylor’s just started to labour. I’ll let you know when we’ve got a baby.’ He gave her a little wink and disappeared around the corner. A shiver ran down Abby’s spine. Pelican Cove would well and truly be on the map once the First Son or Daughter arrived. Did this mean the President would be coming? James Turner would spontaneously combust!
For the next few hours she worked steadily, seeing one child after another. Asthma attacks, nettle stings, tiny things stuck in places they should never be made the time fly past. By lunchtime she was ready for a break, but there was still one child to be seen. She lifted the chart and trudged behind the curtains. A familiar face sat in front of her. Jon King was a teenage skateboarder and spent his spare time in her emergency room, getting the latest part of his body stitched back up again. She gave a sigh. ‘What is it this time, Jon?’
He lifted his elbow, which had a large blood-soaked dressing pad on it. She gave a nod of her head. ‘Right, let’s get this cleaned up and see what we can do.’
Ten minutes later, Lincoln Adams stuck his head around the curtains.
‘Abby, can I steal you for a while?’ A wicked smile spread across his lips. ‘It’s a special request.’
Abby looked up as she finished snipping her last stitch. ‘There you are, good as new, Jon.’ The teenager gave her a nod as he examined his latest row of sutures in his elbow. ‘Nancy will put a dressing over that.’
She snapped off her gloves and rinsed her hands at the sink before joining Linc outside the curtain. ‘What’s up?’
He wrinkled his nose. ‘Things are progressing quicker than expected and I’d like another pair of hands in the room.’ He paused for a second. ‘And right now I strongly suspect Jennifer Taylor could do with the moral support.’
‘Doesn’t she have anyone with her?’
He shook his head. ‘Her husband isn’t here yet and she’s thrown all her aides out of the room. It’s medical personnel only.’
Abby gave a nod. ‘If you need me, I’m yours.’
‘Fabulous. Come on.’
He led her down the corridor and they pushed past the six men in black positioned outside the door. ‘I think we’re going to need Luke,’ mumbled Abby. ‘James Turner looks as if he could have a heart attack.’
Linc shot her a smile and nodded in the direction of the corner of the room where Dr Blair, the original obstetrician, sat positioned in a chair. ‘We might need Luke anyway. It seems that the family obstetrician doesn’t want to miss the main event—cardiac condition or not.’
‘Abby, you’re here. Thank you.’
Jennifer’s voice sounded strained. Her face was pale and sweating, with strands of hair sticking to her forehead.
Abby walked over and picked up the nearby hairbrush from the locker and automatically started combing Jennifer’s hair from her eyes, re-doing her hair and pulling it into a ponytail, just like she would have wanted someone to do for her. ‘Can I give you a shoulder rub?’ she asked as she positioned herself on the bed to support Jennifer.
Jennifer sighed and leaned back against her. ‘That would be great, Abby.’
Abby lifted her hands and started kneading away the tight knots in Jennifer’s shoulders. ‘How are we doing, David?’
David gave her a relaxed smile. He looked like the cat who had got the cream. Not like a man who was about to deliver the premature First Baby.
‘We’re doing great.’ He gave Jennifer’s hand a squeeze. ‘Mom is doing great. Almost fully dilated and this baby will be crowning any time soon. The main man had better get a move on. This baby waits for nobody—President or not.’
Jennifer gave a little gasp as another contraction hit her. ‘But I don’t want to do this without Charlie. I need him here with me.’
Lincoln Adams took a look at her face. The last thing he needed right now was a stressed mom. ‘I’ll get an update,’ he said as he stuck his head outside the door. There were muffled voices. ‘Five minutes. James Turner is apparently out on the helicopter pad, waiting for him.’
Jennifer sagged back against Abby as the contraction eased. ‘Thank the Lord,’ she breathed, and turned her weary head towards Linc. ‘Is this where I tell you I really, really want to push?’
He glanced towards David, who gave a nod of his head. ‘We’re ready when you are, Jennifer. On the next contraction feel free to push as hard as you like. I’ll tell you when to stop.’
Jennifer glanced towards the window as the noise of a helicopter approaching grew louder. Seconds later the sounds of thudding feet came down the hall.
Abby held her breath as the door swung open and the President swept into the room. James Turner and the rest of the security detail came to a halt at the door as it swung shut.
Jennifer gritted her teeth as another contraction racked her body. ‘What time do you call this, Charlie Taylor?’
Abby bit her lip as the man she’d only ever seen on television before dodged around the multitude of bodies in the room. He only had eyes for his w
ife. Abby slid out from behind the First Lady to give him room and went to take her place by Lincoln at the neonate cot.
She watched as Charlie Taylor, the President of the United States, kissed his wife on the forehead and then gently on each tensed eyelid. ‘I love you, baby,’ he whispered. ‘And there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.’ He slid into place behind her, supporting her shoulders and sliding his arms around her stomach, feeling the contraction grip her. His eyes lifted, acknowledging the others in the room but resting on David. ‘Everything okay?’
David smiled, as if he spoke to the President every day. ‘Let’s get this baby out.’
For Abby it was surreal. She stood in a room, surrounded by others but feeling as if she was the only person there. The slippery bundle was delivered within minutes, David lifting the baby out and laying her on top of her mom’s stomach. Lincoln sprang into action, checking the baby while the cord was cut and clamped and Mom and Dad had a cuddle.
A minute later he carried the First Daughter over to the neonate cot for a full examination. Abby breathed a sigh of relief as he did the routine newborn checks. She could see for herself that the little girl was breathing and her colour was good. A few seconds later she let out a hearty cry. Lincoln finished his checks, wrapped her in a blanket and took her back over to her parents.
‘Here we go,’ he said, handing her over. ‘A beautiful baby girl. 4 pounds 10 ounces—not bad for 32 weeks. She’s breathing well and her colour is good, but we will need to monitor her for the next few days. We will need to keep a careful eye on her feeding too, but for now she’s all yours.’
Jennifer breathed a huge sigh of relief as she and her husband bent over their baby daughter.
‘Hi, gorgeous.’ Charlie Taylor stroked his daughter’s face. ‘Just like your mommy.’ He bent over and gave Jennifer a kiss.
David smiled. ‘Do we have a name for the First Daughter, Mom and Dad?’
Jennifer looked up at her husband with tear-filled eyes. ‘Well, do we, Charlie?’
