The Doctor's Baby Bombshell. Jennifer Taylor
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‘Pulse is slow but at least there is one.’ She laid her hand on the child’s forehead and grimaced. ‘She’s very cold. I don’t know how long she’s been out here but it looks like hypothermia to me.’
‘We need to get her to hospital.’ Ben looked back the way they had come. ‘The quickest way is to carry her back to the car and drive her there. We can’t afford to wait around for an ambulance in view of the problems they’re having at the moment. We’ll check her over first just to be on the safe side, but we don’t want to delay too long.’
They worked together, performing a rapid but thorough examination. Zoë would have liked some basic equipment to work with but as it wasn’t available, she got on with the job as best she could. She rattled out her findings as she went so that Ben could check they hadn’t missed anything.
‘Skin is very pale and her face looks puffy. Breathing is slow and quite shallow, too.’
Ben had slid his hand under the child’s sweater and was feeling her armpit. ‘Very cold under the arms so hypothermia is fairly advanced.’ He tested the little girl’s limbs next. ‘No sign of fractures—can you check her spine?’
‘That seems fine,’ Zoë told him a moment later.
‘Good. It should be safe enough to move her.’ He felt in his jacket pocket and pulled out a woollen hat which he placed on the child’s head to help conserve any remaining body heat. ‘That’s the best we can do for now. Let’s get her to hospital.’
He picked up the child and headed back along the track. Zoë followed him, wishing there was something she could do to help. It wasn’t easy forging a way through the bushes when he was so hampered but it was impossible to walk alongside him and assist in any way.
‘This is so frustrating,’ she grumbled as she trotted along at his heels. ‘I should be helping you instead of acting like a spare part!’
‘Your turn will come,’ he told her and even though she couldn’t see his face, she could hear the smile in his voice.
‘Why do I get the feeling that my turn might not be all that pleasant?’ she demanded. ‘Exactly what do you have in mind?’
‘Ah, that would be telling. And there is no way that I want to scare you off. I need you, Zoë Frost, and I don’t intend to let you get away from me!’
Ben grimaced, hoping Zoë wouldn’t take his comment the wrong way. He breathed a sigh of relief when she laughed. He really mustn’t go looking for hidden meanings, he told himself as they rejoined the main path, and definitely not allow himself to wonder if Zoë was looking for them too. Zoë wasn’t his girlfriend any longer. She wasn’t going to be a part of his life either. Once today was over, he probably wouldn’t see her again.
The thought caused a funny sensation in the pit of his stomach but Ben ignored it. They had reached the stile and he waited while Zoë scrambled over to the other side then passed the child across to her.
‘It’s OK, I’ve got her,’ she told him when he went to take the little girl back and he nodded. It didn’t matter to him if she preferred to struggle rather than accept his help. He knew how independent she was and if it made her feel better, who was he to object?
Unlocking the car, he hunkered down and slid the driver’s seat forward as far as it would go. There was a tiny bench seat in the back—so small that he used it merely to stow his coat. However, it would be needed for a different purpose today. ‘Can you climb into the back? I know it’s going to be a tight squeeze but I want to lay her on the front seat. I can lower the back to make it more comfortable for her if you could hunch up.’
Zoë shot a wry glance into the back of the car. ‘So this is what you meant about my turn. I’m going to have to perform some contortions, am I?’
Ben grinned. ‘It’s either you or me, and I honestly don’t think I can get in there. I’d need a shoehorn to fit into that minuscule space!’
‘Either that or a bucket of grease,’ she retorted, handing him the child before doubling up and scrambling into the back of the car. Ben had a tantalising glimpse of her shapely bottom then she was in, wriggling herself into the corner to allow for the passenger seat to be reclined.
He drove the enticing image from his head as he gently laid the little girl on the passenger seat and adjusted the back until she was lying almost flat. He fastened the seat belt across her then handed Zoë his mobile phone.
‘Can you call the emergency services and tell them what’s happened? No doubt there’s some frantic parents looking for this little one and the sooner they know she’s been found, the better.’ He closed the door and strode round to the driver’s side, grunting as he squeezed behind the steering-wheel. ‘I only hope I can change gear with my knees tucked under my chin.’
‘We can always trade places,’ Zoë suggested sweetly and he chuckled.
‘No way! I could do myself permanent damage if I got in there.’
He pulled out of the lay-by, leaving Zoë to inform everyone about what had happened. He could hear her talking on the phone, her voice sounding cool and crisp as she relayed the information. She had a lot more confidence than she’d had two years ago, he realised. Although she’d always been very self- assured in her dealings with her patients, she’d been more reticent when it had come to speaking to people in authority. Obviously, the time she’d spent in Paris had brought about changes in her attitude as well as in her appearance and Ben couldn’t help wondering if it was all down to Zoë herself or to other forces.
Had Zoë met someone there, a man who had shown her how to dress to make the most of herself, taught her to feel as confident as she was beautiful? The idea didn’t sit easily with him even though it had nothing to do with him if it turned out to be true. Zoë didn’t need him as her mentor or her lover.
The child’s name was Megan Turner. She was four years old and had been visiting her grandparents who had a farm in the area when she had wandered off. Her parents met them at the hospital, overjoyed that she had been found. Ben explained his suspicions that Megan was suffering from hypothermia but he didn’t waste time. It was more important that Megan receive the appropriate treatment.
‘I don’t think she’s bad enough to warrant controlled warming but can you alert PICU just in case?’ he instructed as he shouldered open the doors to Resus. He placed Megan on a bed then glanced at the two nurses and junior doctor who had followed him in. ‘Can you take her temperature, Abby—use a rectal thermometer, please. I want to know exactly what we’re dealing with. Jo, I want you to fill the bath with warm water and, Adam, I want you to monitor her breathing and pulse rate. Any fluctuation— and I do mean any—I want to be informed immediately.’
Everyone nodded and set to work. Zoë watched them, enjoying the way they all seemed to know exactly what was expected of them. It was typical of Ben to make his instructions crystal clear. He hated mistakes being made and did everything possible to avoid them. She’d learned such a lot from him when they had worked together…
And learned even more when they were away from work, a small voice whispered inside her head.
‘Want to give me a hand?’
Zoë