walk towards one of the wards, a four-bed bay close to the nursing station.
He seemed to be searching his memory. ‘That would be the child with sepsis?’
She looked at him in surprise. ‘You’ve looked through the notes already?’
He nodded. ‘I like to know who and what I’m going to be dealing with, if at all possible. There isn’t always time but I was in early today, so I was able to take a quick glance at the notes on computer. They only give the bare essentials, of course.’
She had to admire his thoroughness. ‘Well, she and her friend apparently gave each other body piercings—they wanted to wear belly bars but Emma’s mother wouldn’t allow it, so they did it in secret. Emma’s wound became infected and the little girl was too worried about what her parents would say to tell them what was happening. It was only when she started to feel ill that she finally admitted what she’d done. Her parents brought her to A&E but by then the infection was in her bloodstream.’
He winced. ‘You have her on strong antibiotics?’
‘We do. We had the results of tests back from the lab—it’s an aggressive infection, so we’ve put her on a specific treatment now. Of course she needs support to compensate for failing internal organs while her body’s under attack.’
That was the reason the little girl was on a ventilator to help with her breathing and was receiving vital fluids through an intravenous line. Her parents were sitting by her bedside, taking turns to hold her hand. They were pale and distraught, and Sophie did her best to reassure them.
‘Her temperature’s down,’ she said, glancing at the monitor, ‘and her blood oxygen levels are improving, so it looks as though the antibiotics are beginning to have an effect. It will take time, but there’s a definite improvement.’
‘Thank you.’ Emma’s mother was still sick with worry. ‘I just blame myself. I should have known.’
‘I doubt anyone would know if a child made up her mind to keep something to herself,’ Nate said, his voice sympathetic. ‘It’s all the rage to get these piercings, but I expect she’ll be wanting to give them a miss for the time being, at least.’ He smiled and the woman’s mouth curved a fraction.
‘Let’s hope you’re right about that.’
Sophie went on with the ward rounds, conscious all the time of Nate by her side. He talked to the young patients, getting a smile from those who were able and bringing comfort to those who needed it. He was a dream of a children’s doctor. It was a role that could have been made especially for him.
‘Shall we go and get some lunch in the hospital restaurant?’ he suggested a couple of hours later, when she had seen all her patients and finished writing up her notes.
‘Yes, I’d like that. I’m starving.’
He grinned. ‘I thought you might be. You always burned up energy like a racing engine. From what I’ve heard, the food’s pretty good here.’
‘It’s not bad at all,’ she agreed. ‘That’s mostly down to Jake’s intervention, I think. Soon after he was appointed as a manager, he brought in new caterers and the whole place was reorganised. It’s only been up and running for a few weeks. They do hot and cold food and there are sections where you can help yourself and get served quickly.’
He pushed open the door and slipped an arm around her waist as he guided her into the large open-plan area. She felt the warmth of his palm on the curve of her back through the thin material of her top and a sensation of heat spread out along her spine. Try as she might to ignore it, she couldn’t get away from the fact that she liked the feel of his hand on her body...so much so that she was almost disappointed when he let go of her and led the way to the service counters.
There were several of them, each offering a variety of food—salads, sandwiches, cold meats, and then there were the hot food counters, serving things like jacket potatoes, chilli con carne and tomato-and-basil quiche.
Nate studied the menu board. ‘Looks like today’s specials are lasagne or shepherd’s pie,’ he said.
She pulled herself together and tried to concentrate. ‘I think I’ll have the lasagne,’ she said, and added a rhubarb crumble to her tray. Nate opted for shepherd’s pie and runner beans but didn’t bother with a dessert. He added a pot of tea and two cups to his tray.
‘No pudding... Now I see how you keep that lean and hungry look,’ she commented.
‘Oh, I prefer savoury food above all else.’ His gaze travelled over her. ‘But the puddings don’t seem to have done you any harm at all. You’re as slim as ever—with curves in all the right places.’ He smiled as a swift tide of heat swept over her cheeks. ‘It must be all the exercise you get, working here and helping your father. Charlotte mentioned to me that you walk the dog and do your father’s grocery shopping and so on.’
‘I do what I can.’ They chose a table by the window and sat down to eat.
‘I imagine your father and Jake get on pretty well,’ Nate said after a while. ‘Jake’s easy to get along with, isn’t he?’
‘I guess so. I mean, he and I get on all right. We always have done.’ She frowned. They’d always been friends, a bit like a brother and sister, really. She looked at Nate. ‘Actually, he hasn’t had all that much to do with my father, up to now. They know one another, of course, from when we were younger, but I haven’t had occasion to take him home as yet.’
‘Hmm.’ His green gaze was thoughtful.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘I expect Jake wants to move things on... He’ll want to be more than just friends.’ He studied her intently as though memorising every one of her features. ‘Any man would.’
She moistened her lower lip with her tongue. ‘I don’t know about that. I’ve been down that road before and I’ve discovered to my cost that things don’t always work out too well.’
He raised a brow. ‘Perhaps you’ve known the wrong people.’
‘Perhaps.’ The truth was, the only man she’d ever really wanted was Nate, but there had always been so many obstacles in their way that it just felt that maybe it was never meant to be. ‘You must know from your father’s experience that it isn’t easy to find the right partner in life,’ she said. ‘My own mother and father couldn’t make a go of it.’
‘I think the truth is my father never really got over losing my mother,’ he admitted. ‘He was something of a lost soul after that. But, as to your situation, it always struck me—as a child growing up—that your father did his best. He wanted the relationship to work.’
‘I’m sure he did.’ She pulled a face. ‘But, well, you know my mother... She could be...flaky, I suppose you’d call it. She was unreliable and her behaviour was odd sometimes. It made her difficult to live with, but of course we didn’t know then that she was suffering from bipolar disorder.’
He slid his fork into his shepherd’s pie. ‘It must have been difficult for you when the marriage broke up and she took you and your brother and sister away to live in Somerset.’
‘Yes, it was. It was hard
