The Doctor's Rebel Knight

The child was on the very springy sofa, which had made the mother’s efforts at cardiac compression largely ineffective. Fran placed the infant, who looked about eighteen months old, onto her back on the carpeted floor, and tilted her head slightly back to open the airway. There seemed to be the remains of a biscuit in the child’s mouth, which Fran swept out with her finger. The child was clearly not breathing and appeared cyanosed. Supporting Ella’s head, Fran covered the nose and mouth with her mouth and gave five puffs, then felt for a pulse over the inner arm, then the neck.

Either there was none, or her lack of recent clinical experience was letting her down and she just wasn’t sensitive enough to feel it, she thought as another pang of doubt stung her. She had to assume the child’s heart had stopped. Using two fingers, Fran gently compressed the child’s chest over the lower sternum, twenty rapid compressions for each couple of breaths.

Was that the right ratio? she thought in panic. It was higher in adults, lower in children and lower in infants. Oh, God, what was the ratio? Had her skills and training been punched out of her along with her confidence in A and E that day? Her brain became foggy with fear, dread and doubts. She couldn’t do this. She was failing. She was not going to be able to save this child. How would she face the parents? What about those two little boys? Oh, God, even the photos on the walls seemed to be staring down at her in accusation. You are a failure. You are no good at this. Look at what you have done.

Fran vaguely registered a siren sounding and it seemed mere seconds before Jacob Hawke was kneeling beside her, talking to her, but it was as if it was in a vacuum. She couldn’t hear him; she saw his lips moving but it was as if the sound had been muffled by her fear.

‘For God’s sake, Dr Nin,’ Jacob bit out roughly, finally shaking her out of her stasis. ‘Help me here. Keep her steady while I do the mouth-to-mouth.’

Fran blinked herself into action and held the child in position, watching in numb silence as Jacob determinedly worked at the breaths and compressions for what seemed like hours, made worse by the howling boys and now hysterical mother. Had the child’s colour improved, or was it Fran’s imagination?

Unexpectedly, the infant coughed, then seemed to convulse. She vomited up some water, coughed again, and then started wailing, the colour of her face turning from lavender to cherry red.

In the distance another wailing sound could be heard, this one the reassuring whine of the ambulance approaching at speed.

‘Mummy-y!’ the toddler croaked over another cough.

‘Keep her on her side,’ Jacob directed the child’s mother. ‘She’ll be fine but she needs to go to hospital for a proper check of her airways and lungs.’

Fran sat back on her heels, her breathing hurting her chest as cautious relief flooded through her. Ella was alive. Ella was breathing. Ella was alive…

Jacob met her eyes, something in his ice-cold gaze ripping through her like shards of ice. ‘Everything all right, Dr Nin?’ he asked in a tone as arctic as his eyes.

‘F-fine,’ she said, using a nearby chair to pull herself to her feet. ‘I…I lost concentration for a moment…that was all.’

‘Yeah, well, it only takes a moment and it’s too late,’ he muttered in an undertone, well out of hearing of the distressed family.

Fran wanted to be angry at him but her nerves were still shredded. She felt as if her whole body was hanging in pieces, none of them connected to each other. She could barely get her legs to move. Her head was spinning so much she thought she might be sick, but somehow she pulled herself together for the family’s sake.

‘I don’t know how to thank you,’ Jane was still sobbing as she cradled her daughter. ‘I don’t know how she got out to the pool. The gate was closed, I’m sure it was. I’m always so careful.’

‘It’s hard to watch kids all the time,’ Fran said, glancing at the two boys who were still looking shocked, huddled together in the corner of the room.

Once the ambulance officers arrived Fran filled them in with what had happened. The officers were not trained paramedics, just volunteers, but the older man called Jack seemed very competent and experienced as he handled the little patient.

Within a few minutes, both mother and child were in the back of the ambulance, heading for Wollongong Hospital for proper assessment and observation of Ella.

Another police car pulled into the driveway almost as soon as the ambulance had pulled out, and Joe gave Fran a worried look. ‘What are more cops doing here?’ he asked, placing an arm around each of his boys.

‘It’s pretty standard procedure in cases like this,’ Fran said, although personally she questioned the timing of it. The traumatised father and his young sons were obviously desperate to get in the car and follow the ambulance to hospital, but she understood from other cases she had dealt with the importance of ruling out any suspicious circumstances.

Jacob went over to the police vehicle and spoke to the officer on duty. The car backed out of the driveway a few moments later and Jacob came back up the path to where Joe and his boys were waiting with Fran.

Jacob exchanged a brief unreadable glance with Fran before he reached for Joe’s hand. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself earlier. I’m Sergeant Jacob Hawke.’ He smiled down at the boys. ‘Hi, guys.’ He bent down to their level. ‘What are your names?’

‘I—I’m Joey and he’s Romeo,’ the older of the boys said.

‘Those are great names—Italian, right?’ Jacob asked, glancing at the father for verification.

Joe nodded, his throat rising and falling over a tight swallow. ‘Sergeant, I think it would be best if we talk in private. I don’t want the boys to be upset any further.’

Fran stepped forward. ‘I’d be happy to fix the boys a juice or something,’ she said, and turned to them.

‘How about it, Romeo and Joey? Can you show me where Mummy keeps everything?’

The little boys led the way to the kitchen where Fran poured them both orange juice and gave them two chocolate-chip cookies apiece. After a while their dark brown eyes began to lose their haunted, hollow look and they even started to chat about their favourite toys and games.

After half an hour the boys’ father came in, followed by Jacob. ‘Thank you again, Dr Nin, and you too, Sergeant,’ Joe said. ‘I know Jane already thanked you both but you really did save our little girl today. If there’s anything, and I mean anything, we can ever do for you, just let me know. It goes without saying you won’t be charged a cent if you need your car serviced at my workshop, Dr Nin. Just book it in any time.’

‘Thank you, Joe,’ Fran said, feeling every type of fraud. She hadn’t saved Ella, that had been Jacob, and both of them knew it. The family had been too upset to notice and had just assumed as she was a doctor that she was responsible for the miracle of bringing their precious daughter back to them. ‘That’s very kind of you but I was only doing my…er…‘ she flushed and hated herself for it ‘…what I’ve been trained to do.’

‘We should let you get on your way to the hospital to be with your wife and daughter,’ Jacob said to Joe, and then, turning to face Fran, asked, ‘Would you like a lift back to your sister’s house?’

Fran considered refusing but her leg was still throbbing from her hundred-metre dash earlier, and she was also concerned about how long Rufus had been locked in the laundry back at the house. ‘Thank you,’ she said, brushing her hair back with her hand. ‘That would be great.’

After saying farewell to the Pelleri boys and their father, Jacob led the way out to the police vehicle, opening the passenger door for her and standing patiently as she eased into the seat.

He waited until they were on their way before he spoke. ‘When was the last time you performed resuscitation on a child?’

Fran stiffened in her seat. ‘Look, it was tough in there, OK? The family was hysterical and there was no resus gear at hand. I’m not used to working at the coalface like that. I’ve been in a high-tech city teaching hospital all my working life.’

Her words hung in the ensuing silence, each one of them making her feel even more disgusted with her incompetence under pressure. She of all people should have been able to handle an emergency, no matter what equipment was at hand. She could just imagine what Jacob was thinking: she was a stuck-up city slicker who couldn’t stop a nosebleed without a trauma team on hand for back-up. He was very probably right, Fran thought with another wave of disgust at herself.

‘It could so easily have gone the other way but it didn’t,’ Jacob said after a moment. ‘Small communities like this don’t cope well with tragedy. It affects everyone.’

Fran bit her lip as those terrified little boys’ faces drifted into her consciousness. ‘Yes…I know…’

Jacob glanced across at her. ‘It seems one of the boys left the gate unlocked. The mother turned her back for a minute, the father was occupied elsewhere and suddenly the family was a minute or two from tragedy.’

Fran looked at him, her forehead creasing. ‘That’s not going to be made public, is it? About one of the boys leaving the gate unlocked?’

He drew in a breath as he turned into the Atkinses’ driveway. ‘As you are probably aware, whenever there is a case of drowning or near-drowning the police are required to attend and submit a media report in the interests of public education to make the community safer for children. So many parents are unaware of the dangers of leaving children unsupervised or the laws regarding adequate fencing around pools.’

Fran felt her body tensing. ‘You didn’t answer my question,’ she said. ‘Joey is only six years old, Romeo only four. It would be morally reprehensible to name and shame either one of them for something that was just an unfortunate accident.’

He killed the engine and turned to look at her. ‘I am confident the incident was not a result of parental neglect or insufficient supervision. When Joe and I inspected the catch on the gate we found it to be faulty. It sometimes locks, it sometimes doesn’t. If it is anyone’s fault, it is the manufacturer’s. The Pelleris have only been in Pelican Bay a few months. The pool and the fence surrounding it were only installed a couple of weeks ago.’

Fran felt her shoulders come down in relief. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to bite your head off but those little boys…well, it would destroy their childhood to be blamed for something like that.’

‘Speaking of little boys,’ he said as he unclipped his seat belt, ‘how is your sister? I heard she was rushed to hospital earlier today and gave birth to twins.’

‘She’s doing really well, although the babies have to stay in the neonatal unit for a while,’ Fran said. ‘I’m not sure what their names are yet. That was still under discussion last time I spoke to her.’

‘That’s great news,’ he said. ‘They’ll make wonderful parents. They seem a nice couple.’

‘They are,’ she said. ‘Nick is a lovely man. My sister is very happy.’

There was a small silence.

‘So…how about you?’ he asked.

Fran felt her fingers tighten in her lap. ‘What about me?’

His light blue gaze bored into hers. ‘Are you currently involved with someone? A boyfriend, fiancé, husband?’

She looked at him, conscious of her face heating under his scrutiny. ‘I’m not sure why you’re asking me such personal questions. Tell me something, Sergeant, does every newcomer to town suffer the same interrogation from you?’

His lips twitched but it still couldn’t be called a smile. ‘Not the dating sort, huh?’

She pulled her mouth tight. ‘Actually, I am not the sort of person to talk about personal details with complete strangers,’ she clipped back.

She shoved open the passenger door, throwing him an icy look over one shoulder. ‘Thank you for the lift.’

His mouth took on that mocking slant that annoyed her so much. ‘I take it someone like me broke your heart.’

‘Actually, he was nothing like you,’ Fran said. ‘And he didn’t break my heart. He was—’ She stopped, suddenly realising how cleverly he had manipulated her into revealing far more than she wanted to reveal.

‘He was…?’ he prompted with a hook of one brow.

She clamped her lips together and swung her legs out of the car, but the weakness in her left leg made her stumble.

Jacob tried to reach her from inside the car but she pitched forward and landed heavily on the gravel driveway. He bit back a stiff curse and leapt out to go to her aid.

‘Are you OK?’ he asked, helping her to her feet.

She tried to brush him off, but he could see the pain like a misty shadow in her grey-blue eyes, so he kept his hold gentle but firm as she regained her balance.

He ran his gaze over her. ‘Your knees are bleeding,’ he said. ‘Let me help you inside to clean them up.’

‘I’m all right,’ she said, but it was clear she wasn’t. She looked shaken and pale and her bottom lip was trembling slightly, as if she was fighting tears. It had been tough at the Pelleris’, he was the first to admit that, but she was a qualified medic, for pity’s sake. If she was going to last any time in the bush she would have to toughen up, and fast.

Jacob put an arm around her shoulders and helped her to the front door, his body springing to awareness of her petite feminine frame tucked into the strength of his. Her long blonde hair tickled the bare skin on his arm, and he could smell its alluring summer fragrance of frangipani and coconut.

After his break-up with Melissa he had been determined not to do the rebound thing, but weeks and then months had gone by and he had started to forget how nice it felt to hold someone close. However, Dr Frances Nin was just the sort of woman he usually avoided. Touchy, argumentative and prickly, not exactly the qualities he was looking for in a life partner. But he had to admit she packed quite a visual punch.

Rufus barked as they came in but Jacob issued him with a stern command to sit in case he bumped against Fran. ‘Which way to the first-aid kit?’ he asked.

‘Look, Sergeant Hawke,’ she began, ‘this is totally unnecessary. It’s just a scratch.’

‘Jacob.’

She blinked at him. ‘Sorry?’

‘You can call me Jacob,’ he said with a crooked tilt of his lips. ‘Pelican Bay isn’t big on formality, or hasn’t anyone told you that?’

‘Jacob…’ She slipped out of his hold, her cheeks the colour of a soft pink rose. ‘Thanks for the lift but really I would much rather be alone right now.’

Jacob made an L with his fingers and rested it against his chin and mouth as he looked down at her musingly.

‘He really did a good job on you, didn’t he?’

Her chin came up and a storm brewed in her grey-blue eyes. ‘I have already told you I am not interested in discussing my private life,’ she said.

‘What was his name?’

Her hands fisted by her sides, flashes of anger in her gaze as it clashed with his. ‘I realise it is a part of your job to ask questions but to put it bluntly, Sergeant Hawke, I have no intention of answering them.’

‘Where’s the first-aid kit?’ he asked again.

She crossed her arms and angled her head towards the door. ‘I have two words for you, Sergeant. Leave. Now.’

Jacob moved past her to where he supposed the nearest bathroom was, a part of him enjoying the verbal tussle with her. He liked the way her eyes lost their soulless look when she battled head to head with him. He suspected behind that fragile the-world-is-against-me demeanour was a spirited young woman who just needed some time to sort herself out.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she asked as she limped after him into the downstairs bathroom.

He opened a couple of drawers below the basin before he found what he was looking for. ‘Sit on the toilet seat while I clean those scratches,’ he said.

She stood mulishly, still glaring at him with those thundercloud eyes. ‘I am quite capable of seeing to my own scratches, Sergeant Hawke. I am a doctor, remember?’

He dabbed a cotton-wool ball with antiseptic. ‘I’m glad to hear you say that,’ he said. ‘When word gets around about your heroic success in saving Ella Pelleri, just about every resident in Pelican Bay is going to be knocking on your door for a consultation.’

‘We both know it wasn’t me that saved her,’ she said.

His eyes locked on hers before he returned to assembling the first-aid items on the bench. ‘I figure it’s like loosening the lid on a jar for someone.’

‘What?’

He looked sideways to see her frowning at him in confusion. ‘When I was a little kid…’ He paused for a second before continuing, ‘My mother had trouble unscrewing jars, or so she said. I would try my hardest to unscrew it but in the end I would hand it back to her, but each and every time she would say I had loosened it for her. The way I see it, you had the situation more or less in control, apart from momentary panic, which could have happened to anyone given the circumstances. I just loosened the lid on it for you.’

Her mouth pulled even tighter but he saw a flicker of consternation pass through her eyes. ‘Even so, I’m not obliged to see anyone while I am here in town,’ she said. ‘I haven’t even got a prescription pad with me.’

He placed a hand on her shoulder and with gentle pressure forced her to sit on the closed toilet seat. ‘I am sure there are prescription pads at the clinic as well as anything else needed to run a small one-doctor practice.’

Fran felt her breathing go out of whack as he hunkered down in front of her. He was wearing his gunbelt complete with handcuffs and mobile phone and radio, adding to his dangerous, don’t-mess-with-me air. Her shoulder was still tingling from the pressure of his large warm hand, the nerves beneath her skin tap-dancing in delight. She couldn’t help staring at his hands. His fingers were twice the thickness of hers, long and tanned with neatly clipped square nails. The knuckles of his right hand were grazed, and she wondered if he had got that in the line of duty or doing some sort of handyman job.

‘Ouch!’ She jerked back as he dabbed her scraped knees with the cotton wool.

‘Sorry, but, believe me, this is hurting me more than it’s hurting you.’

Fran peered at him through narrowed eyes. ‘Are you laughing at me, Sergeant Hawke?’ she asked.

He gave her a glinting half-smile that did strange things to her stomach, making it tip upside down like a quickly flipped pancake. ‘Now, why would I do that, Dr Nin?’ he asked.

She scowled as he continued to dab at her knees. ‘I wish you would stop calling me that.’

He met her gaze in between dabs. ‘Too formal for you?’

She blew out a sigh. ‘I don’t feel like a doctor any more…at least I don’t want to.’

He placed two pieces of sticky plaster on each knee before he straightened. ‘So you’re going to throw away all those years of study to do what? Go on endless holidays?’ he asked, a disapproving frown narrowing the distance between his eyes as he looked down at her.

Fran stood up gingerly, conscious of how close he was standing to her. She could smell his male smell, warmth, a hint of citrus and a hint of perspiration full of sexy male pheromones, which was dangerously attractive. ‘I don’t know,’ she said in a deliberately airy tone. ‘I’m still thinking about it.’

He scrunched up the wrappers and tossed them in the pedal bin near his feet. ‘Well, while you’re thinking about it, why not think about this?’ he said, locking his gaze with hers. ‘There are people living here who need a doctor, not next week, not next month, but today. You don’t have to put in a ninety-hour week—no one is asking you to. But why not just a couple of hours, once or twice a week until a replacement is found?’

Fran would have pushed past him but it would have meant touching him and that she wanted to avoid. She’d had enough trouble keeping her head while he’d been tending to her knees. Feeling his gentle touch had switched on sensations she could still feel charging through her body. She lowered her gaze and ran her tongue over her lips, feeling cornered and confused. ‘I’m not interested, Sergeant Hawke,’ she said with as much firmness as she could muster, which wasn’t much.

Something about him made her feel deeply disturbed. It wasn’t just his male presence—it was also his commanding air of authority. He was a man used to getting his own way. She could see it in the carved-from-stone contours of his jaw, not to mention the ice-hard focus of his gaze when it locked on hers.

The phone on his belt began to ring and Fran let out a sigh of relief as he moved past her to answer it. Her reprieve was brief, however, for in less than thirty seconds Jacob was back, his car keys already tinkling in his hand.

‘There’s been an accident out on Valley Road,’ he said. ‘A teenager has fallen off her horse—sounds like at the very least a broken leg. The ambulance is away, taking Ella Pelleri to Wollongong Hospital, so the clinic receptionist has called in Careflight. We’ll drop by the ambulance station and pick up their trauma bag. You can stabilise the victim until the chopper arrives.’

‘But I—’ Fran quickly bit back her protest. What would be the point in saying she couldn’t handle it, that two emergencies in one day was asking way too much of her? She could see from the look in Jacob’s eyes there was no way he was going to take no for an answer.

Chapter Three

WITH the police siren screeching, Jacob hit speeds Fran had only seen at her Formula One medical training days in Melbourne a couple of years ago. Thankfully the breakneck pace took her mind off everything but surviving the journey in one piece. Even though he had supposedly only been in town only a few months, he seemed to know his way around the back roads, she thought as they arrived at a large property with white post-and-rail fences in less than ten minutes, notwithstanding their detour to the ambulance station for the trauma kit.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.