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Abby sagged down in a nearby chair. ‘I thought she was going to do this,’ she said quietly.
Luke spun around to face her, his face incredulous. ‘You knew? And you didn’t tell me?’
Abby took a deep breath. ‘She sort of mentioned it. I told her she’d have to discuss it with Dr Fairgreaves.’ She turned to face him. ‘Sorry, David.’
He gave a little smile. ‘Not your fault.’
Luke broke in, ‘This isn’t safe. Not by a long shot. This might not be my specialty but I can’t let this happen. No, we can’t let this happen. What would normally happen in a case like this?’
David Fairgreaves took a deep breath, looking vaguely amused at how wound up Luke was becoming. ‘Actually, you have more responsibility for this than you know. Is it safe to put your patient on a plane right now? Or subject him to a long road transfer?’
‘What? Dr Blair? Of course not. He’s had a significant MI, with angioplasty and stent insertion. He’ll need to stay here for a few days. What’s that got to do with the First Lady?’
‘A lot, actually. She has a great deal of trust in Dr Blair. She doesn’t want to leave him.’
‘Even if that puts her baby at risk?’
‘It doesn’t have to.’
Luke looked stunned. ‘What do you mean? Dr Blair is in no fit state to be consulting with the First Lady right now.’
‘To answer your earlier question, we would normally transfer a lady in Jennifer Taylor’s condition to San Francisco’s Children and Maternity Hospital, where they have excellent neonatal facilities. However, from the First Lady’s perspective, if she goes to San Francisco there will be a huge media circus. It’s a big hospital—you couldn’t possibly hope to contain the news that the First Lady was there, particularly when she’s supposed to be in Washington. But here …’ he pointed out the window at the magnificent ocean view ‘…we have a much better chance of containing the story.’ He glanced down at the notes he had made. ‘As the baby is still under thirty-two weeks, I’ve written her up for some steroids and some antibiotics. Nothing out of the ordinary and we’ll monitor her.’ He folded his arms across his chest. ‘The health and well-being of my patient comes first. She’s already under enough stress and I won’t add to it.’ He raised an eyebrow at Luke. ‘And I won’t let you add to it either.’ He turned towards Abby and handed her a blank A4 notebook and pen. ‘Make a list.’
‘Of what?’ Her mind was spinning. But she knew he was right. Dr Fairgreaves had seen past the words and bravado and seen a frightened mom-to-be.
‘Everything you need. And everybody you need. Chances are we’ve got between one and four days to plan for this delivery.’
‘Are you joking?’
‘No. I’m deadly serious.’ He waved his arms. ‘It might not be an ideal situation but we can make this a safe environment for the President’s baby to be born in. All we need is the staff and the equipment. It’s only people and things. Moveable objects. Who is the best neonatologist that you know?’
‘Lincoln Adams at San Fran.’ The name rolled off Abby’s tongue without a moment’s hesitation.
‘Then start your list with him.’
‘But what if he won’t come?’
‘He will.’ They all turned to the voice at the door. James Turner was leaning in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest. ‘Just make the list, Dr Tyler, and leave the logistics to me.’
She glanced towards Luke, who gave her an almost imperceptible nod. James Turner looked like a quiet force to be reckoned with. Silent but deadly.
She gave a little nod. ‘Give me half an hour, Mr Taylor. I need some peace and quiet to make sure I capture everything I need. You’ll get your list.’
He moved sideways to allow her through the doorway and back out into the ER department. She stopped as she glanced around. ‘My ER department is still open?’ Her voice rose in hopefulness towards the end of the sentence.
‘There haven’t been any arrivals for the last hour, so there haven’t been any problems. We’re just about to move the First Lady. Once we’ve done that, there’ll just be some extra security posted around the building. Your ER department can function as normal.’
‘How about I hang out in the ER while you do that list, Abby?’ Luke stood up from his chair and moved over next to her.
‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’
‘No probs.’ His hand brushed along her back as she headed out the door, sending more tingles down her skin that seemed to connect with her lips. This was ridiculous. She was a professional with work to do. Not some love-struck teenager. It was time she got back to the business in hand.
‘And, children?’ Both of them turned to David Fairgreaves’s voice. ‘You looked as if you’d been fighting when you came in earlier.’ He folded his arms across his chest and smirked at them. ‘It’s time to kiss and make up, we’ve got work to do—work we need to do together, as a team.’ And he put his head back down and began to write.
Luke sat at the main desk in the ER. Abby had been gone for nearly an hour and a half. The list was obviously taking longer than she thought. So far he’d stitched a finger, pulled a bead out of some kid’s nose and dealt with some mild chest pain.
All of a sudden he had a whole new respect for the work Abby did. Children didn’t co-operate like adults. They made a fuss, or had a tantrum, and generally didn’t do a thing they were told. She had chosen this as her speciality?
He plastered a smile on his face as he heard a thump on the desk. Yes, there she was. The redheaded nurse that had been whispering and pointing at him for the last hour. The last thing that he needed right now.
‘So you’re Dr Storm?’ She smiled as she twiddled a strand of her long red hair.
‘That’s right.’ He wasn’t going to do anything to encourage her.
‘I’m Viv, one of the RNs.’ She crossed her legs in front of him, clearly wanting to accentuate the long shapely limbs.
‘Pleased to meet you, Viv.’
Thump. ‘And I’m Carol.’ A brunette slid along the desk next to Viv. Hadn’t these staff ever heard of sitting on chairs? Great. Two for the price of one.
‘So how do you know Dr Tyler?’ asked Carol curiously.
‘We were med students together in Washington.’
Carol’s brow wrinkled. ‘But Abby trained in San Francisco.’
He smiled. ‘I know that. She started her training with me and transferred a little later.’
Viv moved in for the kill. ‘So you won’t know anyone else here, then?’
‘No, no, I don’t.’
‘So where will you be staying tonight?’
The words were like a bolt out of the blue. Luke hadn’t even given it a moment’s thought. Where was he going to stay tonight? He glanced around, looking for James Turner—maybe he’d already made plans for his staff and included Luke in them?
‘I’m not sure yet. But I think that something will already have been arranged.’ Please let something have been arranged.
‘If you don’t have any plans for tonight, you could come to the hospital barbeque.’
‘What?’
Luke was feeling momentarily distracted. Viv had just leaned forward and was revealing a certain amount of cleavage and he was feeling distinctly uncomfortable. It wasn’t the first time a woman had been obvious around him. But here he was definitely out of his comfort zone. He couldn’t walk away and talk to another colleague. He couldn’t make an excuse and go and see to one of his many patients—he’d just checked on Dr Blair and he was sleeping. He didn’t even have an office to go and retreat to. He was feeling like a fly caught in a spider’s web. A red-haired spider’s web.
‘Will Abby be going to the barbeque?’ It seemed like the safest option.
Viv and Carol exchanged glances and shrugged their shoulders. Carol stretched out her arms and glanced over his shoulder, clearly getting bored with uninteresting Luke. ‘Abby doesn’t usually go anywhere without Reuben,’ she said, before tur
