Page 8 of Her Tempting Protector

Nazer and the older man were arguing hotly when she and Faizah walked outside. Even though it was nine at night, it was still hot. For just a moment, Carys caught a slight breeze and she lifted her face towards it, trying to block out the men’s voices. She knew they were arguing about her. Wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last time.

Faizah gave a heavy sigh. “You are a very wise doctor, yes? You have already helped to find out why the patients were getting sick during surgery,” Faizah’s expression was filled with admiration. “Our old ones can be set in their ways. They don’t like change.”

“Don’t worry, the same thing happens in my country,” Carys smiled. She hadn’t thought about it in a long time, but she remembered her great-grandmother and some of the comments she had made when Carys had been young. Change took time.

“He needs you. It is bad. Will you go?” Faizah asked.

“I haven’t been listening,” Carys admitted. She had been trying to block out the argument once she realized it centered on her.

“I want you to both go,” Dr. Nazer said. “Faizah, you will make the situation more comfortable for Dr. Adams. There is a woman in need, who lives at least two kilometers from him. She has three young daughters. He does not like her husband, but her eldest daughter begged him to go for help. He made this trek because the woman has been in labor for over a day. He thinks the woman will die and the girl children will try to come and live with him and his wife because the father is never around.”

“Why hasn’t the midwife helped?” Faizah asked. Carys wondered the same thing.

“Umar said the midwife was not available.”

Carys and Faizah exchanged a glance. This did not seem right. It sounded as if this woman had been ostracized from the community.

“Of course, I’ll go, but Faizah can stay here, her children need her.”

“My daughter and son are old enough to stay with their father. I will go. Come, we must hurry.” She headed for the car. Who was Carys to disagree?

“Let me get everything.” She went inside and looked over everything she’d brought with her in the RISK kit. She grabbed what she needed.

“Let me help,” Rashad squatted down beside her in the dim light. He had a smaller sturdy case for her to use and carefully placed bags of saline from the clinic's storage. Carys grabbed the fetal heart rate monitor, and all the meds she’d need; antibiotics, anti-nausea meds, pain medication in tablet form, anti-inflammatories, as well as vials of morphine. She grabbed a handful of syringes and needles.

“I suppose you’re going to want to take your own surgical instruments?” Rashad laughed at his own joke, then went into a long bout of coughing.

“Dr. Nazer, go back to bed,” Faizah admonished. “Dr. Adams and I will take care of this.” Carys drowned them both out as she grabbed the tubing for adults and infants, antimicrobial washes, alcohol wipes and whatever else she could think of that would fit into the case. Then she shut it.

Her backpack sat in the corner of the surgery, and all she’d grabbed out of that so far had been a bottle of water and a protein bar. She’d eaten with the staff for dinner. She looked up. “Faizah, do you have everything you need?” Carys asked.

Faizah held up a cotton tote—apparently, she traveled light.

“Okay, let’s go.” The nurse tried to grab the kit from her, but she wouldn’t let her.

“I’m much bigger than you are, Doctor,” Faizah argued.

“Fine, you can carry my backpack.” The woman grabbed it and they went out to the car.

Faizah pushed back the front passenger seat so Carys could crawl into the back.

Here goes nothing.

Carys winced when she banged her knee against a piece of metal that stuck out from the back of the driver’s seat.

Well, at least when she got in the back seat, she couldn’t see the old man glaring at her anymore.

“Father, where are you taking us?” Faizah asked the old man deferentially.

“Far away. To the woman’s shack. We must hurry.”

Sitting in the backseat, Carys held on for dear life.