Ten more minutes and it probably would’ve been too late.”
He pressed his fingers to her pulse once more and took a deep breath of satisfaction. Ectopic pregnancy from pelvic inflammatory scarring was all too frequent in this part of the world, with polygamy and the diseases that came with that culture being commonplace. He’d feared this was one of the patients who wouldn’t make it.
There’d been too many close calls lately, and Chase tried to think what else they could do about that. Their group had an ongoing grass-roots approach, trying to encourage patients to come in before their conditions were critical. But people weren’t used to relying on modern medicine to heal them. Not to mention that patients sometimes had to walk miles just to get there.
“Will there be more babies?” the woman whispered.
He couldn’t tell if the fear in her voice was because she wanted more children, or because she didn’t want to go through such an ordeal again.
“We had to close off the tube that had the baby in it,” he said, gentling his voice. “But you still have another tube, so you can probably conceive another baby, if you want one.”
Whether she was fertile or not, Chase didn’t know. But the children she did have still had their mother. He squeezed her hand and smiled. “Your little ones who came with you looked pretty worried. Soon you’ll be strong enough to go home, and they’ll be very happy to have their maman again.”
A smile touched her lips as her eyelids drifted shut. Chase left her in the capable hands of the nurse anesthetist and stripped off his gown to head outside. Moist heat wrapped around him like a soft, cottony glove as he stepped from the air-conditioned cement-block building that made do as the clinic and O.R. for the local arm of Global Physicians Coalition.
Dusk still kept that particular inch of sub-Saharan West Africa bathed in low light at nine-thirty p.m., and he didn’t bother to pull his penlight from his pocket. The generators would be turned off soon, and the growl of his stomach reminded him he hadn’t eaten a thing since lunch. Finding dinner in the dark was a crap shoot, so a quick trip to the kitchen had to happen before the lights went out.
He strode around the corner of the building and nearly plowed down Trent Dalton.
“Whoa, you off to save another life?” Trent said, stumbling a few steps. “I heard your patient’s sister calling you ‘mon héros.’ I’m jealous.”
“I’m pretty sure you’ve been called a hero once or twice, deserved or not,” Chase said.
“Not by such a pretty young thing. I recall it coming from an elderly man, which didn’t stroke my needy ego quite as much.”
Chase snorted. “Well, thank the Lord the pregnant sister was my patient instead of yours. Your ego would explode if it got any bigger.”
“I’m confident, not egotistical,” Trent said, slapping Chase on the back. “Let’s see what there is to eat. I’ve gotta get some food before I have to scrounge for a coconut by the side of the road.”
“With any luck, Spud still has something in there for us.”
“No chance of that. He left a while ago to pick up the new doc who just arrived from the States.”
Spud wasn’t even here? Chase’s stomach growled louder as he realized the chances of finding anything halfway decent to eat was looking less likely by the minute.
The place would doubtless fall apart without Spud Jones, the go-to guy who cooked, ordered all the supplies, transported everyone everywhere and pretty much ran the place.
“How come I didn’t know there was a new doc coming?” Chase said as they walked toward the main building.
“Well, if you weren’t wrapped up in your own little world, maybe you’d enjoy more of the gossip around here.”
“Do you know who he is?”
“Not a he. A she. A very pretty she, according to Spud,” Trent said. “Thank God. As a constant companion, you’re not only the wrong gender, you’re dull as hell. We’re overdue for some new female beauty to spice things up around here.”
“We? You mean you,” Chase said with a grin. “There’s a reason Dr. Trent Dalton is known as the Coalition Casanova.”
“Hey, all work and no play makes life all work.” His light blue eyes twinkled. “She’s coming to finally get electronic clinic records set up on all the kids. I can’t wait to offer my suggestions and assistance.”
Chase laughed. As they neared the building, the sight of a Land Rover heading their way came into view within a cloud of dust on the road. Chances were good he’d worked with the new doctor before. The Global Physicians Coalition was a fairly small group, and most were great people. Medical workers who saw mission work as a calling, not just an occupation.
The sound of the Land Rover’s engine choked to a stop just out of sight in front of the building, and Trent turned to him with a smile of pure mischief. “And here’s my latest conquest arriving now. What a lucky lady.”
Trent took off towards the front doors and Chase followed more slowly, shaking his head with an exasperated smile. One of these days Trent’s way of charming the pants off women then leaving them flat with a smile and a wave was going to catch up with him. Not that his own record with females was much better.
“Bon soir, lovely lady. Welcome to paradise.”
Trent’s voice drifted across the air, along with Spud’s chuckle and a few more words from Trent that Chase didn’t catch.
Feminine laughter froze Chase in mid-step. A bubbly, joyous sound so distinctive, so familiar, so rapturous that his breath caught, knowing it couldn’t be her. Knowing he shouldn’t want it to be her. Knowing that he’d blown it all to hell when he’d last seen her anyway.
Without intent or permission, his feet headed towards the sound and the headlights of the dusty Land Rover. Shadowy figures stood next to it, and he could see Trent taking the new arrival’s bulky shoulder bag from her. Spud was obviously introducing the two, with Trent giving her his usual too-familiar embrace.
Chase had to fight the sudden urge to run forward, yank Trent loose, and tell him to keep his hands off.
He hadn’t needed to see the curly blonde halo glowing in the twilight to know it was her. To see that beautiful, crazy hair pulled into the messy ponytail that was so right for the woman who owned it. A visual representation of impulsive, exuberant, unforgettable Danielle Sheridan.
Chase stared at her across the short expanse of earth, his heart beating erratically as though he’d suddenly developed atrial fibrillation.
He’d always figured they’d run into one another again someday on some job somewhere in the world. But he hadn’t figured on it stopping his heart and shortening his breath. Three years was a long time. Too long to still be affected this way, and he didn’t want to think about what that meant.
She was dressed in her usual garb—khaki shorts that showed off her toned legs and a slim-fitting green T-shirt that didn’t attempt to hide her slender curves. In the process of positioning another bag on her shoulder, it seemed she felt his gaze and lifted her head. Their eyes
