The Surgeon's Special Delivery. Fiona Lowe
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A baby was coming into his family in the next few weeks and nothing he could do would change that. Every plan he’d made for the immediate future swirled in his mind like dust in the wind, being carried further and further away from him. He wanted to put his hand out and grab on tight to all his arrangements but there was nothing to hold onto. Everything had changed.
He sucked in a deep breath and slowly all the confusion in his mind cleared. This was no different from triage at Frontline. Decisions had to be made and priorities needed to be set. He knew immediately what he had to do.
Tess could almost see the cogs of Callum’s mind working behind those enigmatic dark grey eyes. As tall as James was short and as dark as James had been fair, Callum was the physical opposite of his fraternal twin. But the differences didn’t stop there.
James had never made her heart pound or her stomach somersault. He’d been her best friend’s husband, a kind man, a great doctor and the brother she’d never had. She thought back to her ill-fated relationship with Curtis. Not even in their halcyon early days had she ever felt quite this weirdly agitated and tingly.
She pushed away these new sensations and focused on what she knew about Callum, which wasn’t much as James had only ever mentioned him in passing. His biological uncle isn’t exactly the ‘kick a footy to the kid’ type of guy.
Callum’s suddenly brisk, businesslike voice broke into her thoughts. ‘So you’re booked into the Women’s Hospital in Melbourne to have my nephew?’
The ‘take-charge’ doctor had replaced the bewildered man and his question surprised her. ‘Ah, no, I planned to have the baby here.’
He raised his black brows. ‘So Narranbool Bush Hospital has acquired a neonatal intensive care unit since I last visited.’
She ignored his sarcasm. ‘Narranbool District Hospital has probably lost beds since you were last in the country. It’s a constant battle to keep country hospitals open, accredited and debt free. With sixty births a year we hardly qualify for an NICU.’
He folded his arms, his eyes darkening. ‘My point exactly. We need to get you down to Melbourne tomorrow as soon as the funeral is over. You can stay in the east wing of my parents’ house in Toorak and then you’re close to the Women’s when you go into labour.’
Her blood pounded in her head as her hands started to shake. She fisted them closed to steady them against the cocktail of emotions that pounded her. Her worst fear of what Carolyn had always jokingly referred to as ‘Halroyd organisation’ was swinging into action faster than she’d thought possible.
She kept her voice steady against all her fears about the Halroyds taking over that had plagued her from the moment she’d learned of her friends’ deaths. She was a surrogate, not family. ‘I don’t want to stay in the east wing.’
He frowned, momentarily nonplussed. ‘I don’t understand. It’s independent of the rest of the house and has everything you could possibly need for your confinement. Besides, my parents wouldn’t hear of you staying in a hotel and you won’t be inconveniencing them at all if that’s your concern.’
His determination and authoritative tone slammed into her like a truck hitting a brick wall. ‘Look, it’s very kind of you to offer but—’
‘It’s not a matter of kindness, it’s the best thing to do.’ His matter-of-fact voice brooked no argument.
‘The best thing?’ She failed to keep the incredulity out of her voice. ‘I can’t just up and leave Narranbool.’
‘Why on earth not?’ The derision in his voice matched the perplexity on his face.
Because I’m the only doctor here. But she knew telling him that wasn’t going to help her cause to stay in town and have Oscar. She’d just have to hope he would respect the wishes of his brother. She cradled her hands under her stomach. ‘James and Carolyn wanted to have the baby here and I’m going to respect their wishes.’
His brow creased in confusion. ‘So there’s another doctor in Narranbool with obstetric qualifications?’
She skirted the question. ‘I’ve got my diploma in obstetrics.’
The creases deepened. ‘No matter how talented a doctor you are, Tess, you cannot deliver the baby.’ He pressed his palms down onto the scoured wooden benchtop and leaned forward, the muscles in his arms taut with tension. ‘Who is going to deliver my nephew?’ His quiet words hung between them.
My nephew. His family. Oscar’s family. She hesitated as if she teetered on the very tip of a steep mountain, knowing that no matter which way she moved, she would tumble and fall. Fall into his plan of going to Melbourne. She met his piercing gaze. ‘The midwives are experts in healthy, straightforward labours and—’
‘But James isn’t here to act as back-up.’ Callum’s softly spoken words exposed the flaw that now made the original plan less workable if complications did arise.
For three days she’d been on the phone, following leads for another doctor with obstetric qualifications, but all conversations had ended in ‘No’. But she hadn’t given up hope; she still had time to find someone. Like all other outback women before her, she wanted to have her baby in her town and Oscar deserved to be born in the place his parents had adored.
She plastered what she hoped was a reassuring smile on her face. ‘But I’m healthy and the baby is healthy so the chances of me needing a doctor are pretty slim. Worst case scenario, we’re a short helicopter ride to Mildura which is a lot better than women in Africa—’
‘But we’re not in Africa, we’re in Australia.’ His previously warm voice had chilled to a stony determination.
‘Yes, we’re in Australia, and as I pointed out I have access to emergency care if it’s needed. There are other pregnant women in this town, Callum, and I’m not suggesting to them that they all decamp to Melbourne.’
A flash of sorrow flared in his eyes before a muscle in his jaw twitched. ‘Your job is to safeguard my nephew and I want you giving birth with the full suite of backup that modern medicine can offer on the other side of the double doors.’
She stared at his implacable stance, his mouth set in a firm line and his arms crossed over his broad chest. Knowing that exhaustion, grief and pain were driving him, she swallowed her biting retort that she would never put his nephew at risk either. Wearily she pushed at her fringe with her fingers and stalled. ‘Let’s talk about this tomorrow, after a night’s sleep, after the funeral.’
‘There’s nothing more to talk about.’
She sighed. ‘There are so many things to talk about.’ Like the fact that if I leave town, Narranbool has no doctor. The unmistakeable ring of her mobile interrupted her. She glanced at the display. ‘Excuse me, I have to take this call.’ She punched the green button. ‘Tess Dalton speaking.’
She listened carefully as Rosie Whitherton, the director of nursing at the hospital, told her that a patient had arrived and needed to see her.
‘I’ll be right there.’ She snapped