The Doctor & the Runaway Heiress

‘Why didn’t your mum come with you?’

‘Mum says it’s stupid to come to hospital, but she didn’t tell me it hurt like this. If you hadn’t been here …’ Another contraction hit and she clung to Pippa with a grip like a vice.

‘I’m here,’ Pippa told her as Amy rode out the contraction. ‘Hold as tight as you need. Yesterday I was staring death in the face. It’s kind of nice to be staring at birth.’

Riley was in the final stages of stitching Hubert Trotter’s toe when Jancey stuck her head round the partition.

‘She’s good,’ she said.

‘Who’s good?’

‘Our night swimmer. She’s been up to the kids’ ward in her gorgeous silver and pink dressing gown, and she did the best plea you ever heard. Told them all about Amy having a baby alone. Talk about pathos. She’s borrowed Lacey Sutherland’s spare MP3 player. She conned one of the mums into going home to get speakers. She’s hooked up the internet in the nurses’ station and she’s downloaded stuff so she has Amy’s favourite music playing right now. She also rang the local poster shop. I don’t know what she promised them but the guys were here in minutes. Amy’s now surrounded by posters of her favourite telly stars. Oh, and one of the mums donated a giraffe, almost as tall as Amy. Pippa has Amy so bemused she’s almost forgotten she’s in labour.’

‘She’s a patient herself,’ Riley said, stunned.

‘Try telling her that. Oh, and I managed to ring the number she gave us in England. I had a minute and I couldn’t help myself—she had me fascinated. Her boss says send her back, now. Seems your Pippa left to get married two weeks ago and they miss her. Talk about glowing references. Can we keep her?’

‘I’m not sure how we can.’

‘Just don’t give her clothes,’ Jancey said, grinning. ‘I’m off duty now. We’re two nurses short for night shift but I’ve already stretched my shift to twelve hours. How long have you stretched yours?’

‘Don’t ask,’ Riley said. ‘Okay, Hubert, you’re done. Pharmacy will give you something for the pain. Keep it dry, come back in tomorrow and I’ll dress it again.’

‘You’ll be in tomorrow?’ Hubert asked as Jancey disappeared.

‘Maybe.’

‘You’re supposed to be the flying doc, not the base doc.’

‘Yeah,’ Riley said. ‘Can you ring the union and let them know?’

‘Riley?’

He sighed and straightened. ‘That’d be me.’

‘Amy’s moving into second stage.’ It was Mary, the night nurse who’d just started her shift. ‘Pippa says you need to come straight away.’

She’d been having doubts about the ability of this small hospital to prepare adequately for a teenage birth, but the transition from the cubicle near the nurses’ station to the labour ward was seamless.

A nurse and an orderly pushed Amy’s bed into a labour room that was homey and comforting, but still had everything Pippa was accustomed to seeing. Riley was already waiting.

He smiled down at Amy, and Pippa was starting to know that smile. It said nothing was interfering with what he was doing right now, and his attention was all on Amy.

He hardly acknowledged her. She’d walked beside Amy’s bed simply because Amy had still been clutching her hand. The moment Amy no longer needed her she should back away.

She was in a fully equipped labour ward. A doctor, a nurse, an orderly. She could leave now but Amy was still clinging. Her fear was palpable and at an unobtrusive signal from Riley it was the nurse and the orderly who slipped away.

What was going on?

‘Hey, Ames, they tell me your baby’s really close.’ Riley took Amy’s free hand—and Pippa thought if she was Amy she’d feel better right now.

But maybe that wasn’t sensible. Maybe that was a dose of hormones caused by Riley’s great smile.

‘Don’t tell me you’re an obstetrician, too,’ she said, and then she decided her voice sounded a bit sharp. That was uncalled for. She was, however, seriously thrown. Did this guy ever sleep? Hanging from ropes, rescuing stupid tourists in the middle of the night, sewing on toes. Delivering babies. But …

‘Amy knows I’m not an obstetrician,’ Riley said, still talking to Amy. ‘We have an obstetrician on standby. Dr Louise will be here in a heartbeat if we need her, but Amy has asked if I can deliver her baby.’ He glanced at Pippa then, and his smile finally encompassed her. ‘Amy has need of friends. It seems she’s found you as well as me. I know it’s unfair but are you okay to stay with us for a bit longer?’

‘Of course I can. If I can sit down.’

His smile was a reward all on its own. There was also relief behind his smile, and she thought he’d be feeling the responsibility of being Amy’s sole care person. Plus doctor.

‘Okay, then, Amy,’ he said, taking her hand just as a contraction started. ‘You have me, you have Pippa and you have you. Pippa has her chair. We have our crib all ready. All we need now is one baby to make our team complete. So now you push. Pippa’s your cheerleader and I’ll stand around and catch.’

Then, as the next contraction swelled to its full power, he moved straight back into doctor mode. He was a friend on the surface but underneath he was pure doctor, Pippa thought as she coached Amy with her breathing.

And he was some doctor.

Amy was little more than a child herself. Her pelvis seemed barely mature—if Pippa had to guess she’d have said the girl looked like she’d been badly malnourished. If this was Pippa’s hospital back in the UK, Amy could well have been advised to have had her baby by Caesarean section.

‘C-section’s never been option,’ Riley told her in an undertone as Amy gasped between contractions. How had he guessed what she was thinking? ‘Neither is it going to be. Not if I can help it.’

‘Why?’

‘Amy comes from one of the most barren places in the country,’ he told her. ‘I persuaded her—against her mother’s wishes—to come to the city this time. Next time she may well be on her own in the middle of nowhere. You want to add scar tissue to that mix?’

Amy was pushing away the gas and he took her hand again. ‘Hey, Amy, you’re brilliant, you’re getting so much closer. Let Pippa hold the gas so you can try again. Three deep breaths, here we go. Up the hill, up, up, up, push for all you’re worth, yes, fantastic, breathe out, down the other side. You’ve stretched a little more, a little more. Half a dozen more of those and I reckon this baby will be here.’

It wasn’t quite half a dozen. Amy sobbed and swore and gripped and pushed and screamed …

Pippa held on, encouraging her any way she could, and so did Riley. Two coaches, two lifelines for this slip of a kid with only them between herself and terror.

But finally she did it. Pippa was already emotional, and when finally Amy’s tiny baby girl arrived into the outside world, as Pippa held Amy up so she could see her daughter’s first breath, as Riley held her to show Amy she was perfect, Pippa discovered she was weeping.

Riley slipped the baby onto Amy’s breast and Amy cradled her as if she was the most miraculous thing she’d ever seen. As, of course, she was.

The baby nuzzled, instinctively searching. Pippa guided her a little, helping just enough but not enough to intrude. The baby found what she was looking for and Amy looked down in incredulous wonder.

‘I’m feeding her. I’ve had a baby.’

‘You have a daughter,’ Riley said, smiling and smiling, and Pippa glanced up at him and was astonished to see his eyes weren’t exactly dry either.

Surely a rough Aussie search and rescue doctor …

Just concentrate on your own eyes, she told herself, and sniffed.

‘She’s beautiful,’ she said, trying to keep her voice steady. She touched the baby’s damp little head with wonder. No matter how many births she’d seen, this never stopped being a miracle. ‘Have you thought about what you might call her?’

And Amy looked up at her as if she was a bit simple—as indeed she felt. Amy had just performed the most amazing, complex, difficult feat a human could ever perform—and Pippa had simply held her hand.

‘I’m calling her Riley, of course,’ Amy whispered, and smiled and smiled. ‘Boy or girl, I decided it months ago. And I’m keeping her,’ she said, a touch defiantly.

Riley smiled. ‘Who’s arguing? It’d take a team stronger than us to get Baby Riley away from her mum right now.’

‘Have you been thinking of adoption?’ Pippa said, because if indeed it was on the table it needed to be raised.

‘Mum said I had to,’ Amy said simply. ‘But Doc Riley said it was up to me. He’ll support me. Won’t you, Doc?’

‘It will be hard,’ Riley said, gravely now. ‘You know that.’

‘I know,’ Amy said. ‘But me and this kid … after this, I can do anything. She’s going to have all the stuff I didn’t. She’ll go to school and everything.’ She peeped a smile up at Riley, her courage and strength returning in waves with the adrenalin of post-birth wonder. ‘Maybe she’ll even be a doc like you.’

‘Why not?’ Riley said. ‘If that’s what you both want, we’ll make sure there are people who’ll help you every step of the way.’ He hesitated. ‘But, Amy, Riley’s best chance of getting that is if you don’t have six more babies in the next six years.’

‘You don’t need to tell me that,’ Amy said tartly, and she kissed her baby’s head. ‘No fear. I had this one because I was stupid. Me and her … we’re not going to be stupid, ever again.’

Amy was wheeled away, up to Maternity to be in a ward with two other young mums. ‘Because that’s where you’ll learn the most,’ Riley told her. Pippa promised to visit her later, but Amy was too intent on her new little Riley to listen.

Pippa’s legs were sagging. She sat, suddenly, and felt extraordinarily relieved the chair was under her. Even her chair felt wobbly.

Riley was beside her in an instant, hitting the buzzer. ‘We need a trolley,’ he told Mary when she appeared. ‘Fast, Mary, or I’ll have to pick her up and carry her.’

‘In your dreams,’ Pippa managed, with a pathetic attempt at dignity. ‘No one carries me.’

‘I believe I already have.’

‘With the help of a helicopter.’ She was trying to sound cheeky but she wasn’t succeeding. In truth, the room was spinning.

‘Warren’s the only orderly,’ Mary said. ‘The trolley will be ten minutes. You want me to fetch a wheelchair?’

‘It’s okay,’ Pippa said. ‘I’ll be right in a minute.’

‘You’ll be back in bed in a minute.’ And to her astonishment Riley’s eyes were gleaming with laughter and with challenge. ‘Let’s do without Warren or wheelchairs,’ he said. ‘Fancy inferring I’m inferior to our helicopter.’ And before she could realise what he intended, he lifted her high into his arms.

She squeaked.

Mary giggled.

‘He does weights,’ Mary told Pippa, bemused. ‘What you said … that’s a red rag to a bull.’

‘He’s crazy.’

‘He is at that,’ Mary said, chuckling and holding the door wide to let Riley pass. ‘You try getting workers’ compensation after this, Doc Riley.’

‘Workers’ comp is for wimps.’ Riley had her secure, solid against his chest, striding briskly along the corridor, past rooms full of patients and visitors, carrying her as if she was a featherweight and not a grown woman in trouble.

Trouble was right. If a doctor did this in her training hospital … To a nurse …

Worse. She was a patient. This was totally unprofessional.

She needed to struggle but she didn’t have the energy. Or the will.

Trouble?

She was feeling like she really was in trouble. Like she wasn’t exactly sure what was going on. He was making her feel …

‘I should never have allowed you to help,’ he muttered as he strode, his laughter giving way to concern. Maybe he was feeling just how weak she was.

She wasn’t really this weak, she thought. Or maybe she was.

She thought about it, or she sort of thought about it. The feel of his arms holding her … the solid muscles of his chest … the sensation of being held … It was stopping lots of thoughts—and starting others that were entirely inappropriate.

This was why they’d invented trolleys, she thought, to stop nurses … to stop patients … to stop her being carried by someone like Riley. It was so inappropriate on so many levels. It made her feel …

‘You’re exhausted,’ he said. ‘It was totally unprofessional of me to allow you to help.’

That shook her out of the very inappropriate route her thoughts were taking. Out of her exhaustion. Almost out of her disorientation.

‘To allow Amy to have a support person?’ she demanded, forcing her voice to be firm. ‘What does that have to do with lack of professionalism?’

‘You weren’t her support person.’

‘I was. If you hadn’t allowed me to be, I would have discharged myself and come right back. Amy would have said “Yes, please,” and it would have been exactly the same except that you wouldn’t be carrying me back to bed.’

‘In your extraordinary bathrobe,’ he finished, and the laughter had returned. It felt good, she decided. To make this man laugh …

And there her thoughts went again, off on a weird and crazy tangent. She was totally disoriented by the feel of his body against hers. He turned into the next corridor, and the turning made her feel a bit dizzy and she clutched.

He swore. ‘Of all the stupid …’

‘It’s not stupid,’ she managed, steadying again. ‘It’s wonderful. Last night you saved my life. This afternoon we’ve helped Amy have her baby. You’ve done a fantastic twenty-four hours’ work, Dr Chase. Did I tell you I think you’re wonderful?’

Mary bobbed up beside them, still chuckling.

‘Don’t tell him that,’ she begged. ‘Everyone does. It gives him the biggest head. Riley, really, are you about to hurt your back?’

‘Nope,’ Riley said. ‘Didn’t you hear what our patient said? I’m wonderful. Practically Superman. You can’t hurt your back if you’re Superman.’

‘Superman or not, Coral says to tell you that you can’t be a doctor in this hospital unless you get some sleep,’ Mary retorted. ‘Coral said you’re to leave and go to bed. Now.’

‘Immediately?’

‘Put Pippa down first, but leave the tucking in to me,’ Mary ordered, as they reached Pippa’s bed. ‘Off you go, Dr Superman. Sweet dreams.’

‘I need to say thank you,’ Pippa managed.

‘So say thank you,’ Mary said, sounding severe. ‘Fast.’

Riley set Pippa down. He straightened and she felt a queer jolt of loss. To be held and then released …

She was more exhausted than she’d thought. She wasn’t making sense, even to herself.

Riley was smiling down at her, with that amazing, heart-stopping smile. A lifesaver of a smile. ‘It’s us who should thank you,’ he said. ‘You were great.’

Her pillows were wonderful. Life was wonderful.

Riley was wonderful.

‘You are Superman,’ she whispered. ‘You’ve saved my life—in more ways than one.’

‘It’s what I do,’ Riley said. ‘Superheroes R Us. Come on, Mary, let’s see if we can find some tall buildings to leap.’

‘You can leap all the tall buildings you want, as long as you do it off duty,’ Mary said tartly.

‘Goodnight, then, Pippa,’ Riley said. ‘We both know what to do.’

Sleep. It sounded good.

She slept, smiling.

She slept, thinking of Riley Chase.

A baby called Riley. A little girl …

Eighteen years ago his daughter had been born and he hadn’t known. Marguerite had chosen to have her alone, or with her formidable parents, rather than let him into her life.

He’d thought he’d loved her. He’d thought she’d loved him.

He had no idea what love was. What family was.

He’d watched Pippa with Amy, and felt the strength between them, the instant bonding of two strong women. That was what he didn’t get. Didn’t trust. Bonding.

Family.

His daughter was coming. It was doing his head in; delivering Amy’s baby, thinking back to how it could have been if he’d been deemed worth being a partner, a father. Family.

Yeah, like that was going to happen. He needed to sleep. Get his head under control.

Or surf. Better. No matter how tired he was, surf helped.

He strode out of the hospital, headed for the beach.

The thought of Pippa stayed with him. Pippa holding a baby girl.

Too much emotion. His head felt like it might implode.

When all else failed, surf.

CHAPTER THREE

SHE slept all night.

She was still right by the nurses’ station. It was probably noisy, but there was no noise capable of stirring her.

When she woke, even the hospital breakfast tasted good. She must have been very close to the edge, she decided as she tucked into her leathery egg. She must have been very close indeed, if she was now appreciating hospital food.

Just the concept of food felt great. There’d be lunch in a few hours’ time, she thought with a thrill of anticipation. Maybe there’d be a snack in between. Life stretched out before her, resplendent in its possibilities. She lay back on her pillows and thought: This is day two of my honeymoon, what’s on today?

At around nine Jancey bounced in, accompanying an intern, and she was aware of a stab of disappointment. The young doctor was efficient, caring, thorough, all the things he needed to be—but he wasn’t Riley.

‘Dr Chase isn’t usually in the wards,’ Jancey told her as the intern moved off to sign her discharge papers. Pippa hadn’t asked about Riley, but somehow Jancey sensed Pippa wanted to know. ‘He’s in charge of Search and Rescue, and he does clinics for our remote communities. That’s enough to keep any doctor busy.’

‘This is the base for Search and Rescue?’

‘Yep. We have two crews, two planes and one chopper. There’s some coastal work—stuff like rescuing you—but most of our work is clinics and patient retrieval from Outback settlements. It keeps us busy. It keeps Riley very busy.’

‘So I won’t see him again.’

‘Probably not,’ Jancey said, giving her a thoughtful glance. ‘I know; it seems a shame. He’s a bit hot, our Dr Riley.’

‘That’s not what I meant.’

‘Of course it is,’ Jancey retorted, grinning. ‘I’m a happily married woman but it’s still what I think. It’s what every hot-blooded woman in this hospital thinks. He walks alone, though, our Dr Chase.’

‘Like the Phantom?’ Pippa queried, a bit nonplussed.

‘In the comics?’ Jancey smiled and nodded. ‘Yeah, though doesn’t Phantom have generations of Dianas, providing generations of little phantoms? As far as we know there’s not a Diana in sight. Coral, our nurse-administrator, reckons he was crossed in love. Whoops,’ she said as the baby-faced intern harrumphed with irritation from the corridor. ‘I know, talking about Dr Chase’s love life with patients is totally unprofessional but what’s life without a bit of spice? And who’s going to sack me with our staff shortage? Okay, I gotta go and minister to the sick, hold the hand of the learning. Will you be okay?’

‘Yes.’ How else was a woman to respond?

‘Are you staying in town for a while?’

‘The hotel’s paid for until Sunday.’

‘Then soak it up,’ Jancey said. ‘Sleep, spas, maybe a massage. But be careful. Our Dr Chase will be very annoyed if he has to rescue you again.’

‘He won’t do that,’ Pippa assured her. ‘It’s taken a lot of trouble to finally be on my own. I’m on my lonesome honeymoon and it feels fantastic. I’m not about to need anyone.’

Some wonderful person had fetched her luggage from the hotel. Pippa dressed and said goodbye to the ward staff. Jancey offered to accompany her to the taxi rank, but first Pippa needed to see Amy.

Amy was in a ward with two other young mums, all getting to know their babies. A lactation consultant was working with her, and there were rumours that Riley Junior was about to have her first bath.

‘You were fab,’ Amy told her as she hugged her goodbye. ‘You and Doc Riley. I wish I could have called her Pippa, too. Hey, maybe I can. Riley Pippa.’

‘Don’t get too carried away,’ Pippa said, grinning. ‘You’re making friends all over the place. By the time you leave here, this young lady might have twelve names.’

‘I won’t be here long. I don’t like being in hospital,’ Amy confessed.

‘You’re not planning to run away?’

‘I won’t do that. I’ve promised Doc Riley I’ll be sensible.’

‘You and me both,’ Pippa said.

It was great that she’d been able to help yesterday, she decided as she left Amy. It had made the terrors of the night before recede. It had made Roger’s betrayal fade almost to insignificance.

Birth beat death any day, she decided—and it also beat marriage. Now to have her honeymoon …

Half an hour later the porter ushered her into her hotel suite and finally Pippa was alone.

Her honeymoon hotel was truly, madly scrumptious. It had been years since Pippa had spent any time in her parents’ world and she’d almost forgotten what it was like. Or maybe hotels hadn’t been this luxurious back then.

The bed was the size of a small swimming pool. How many pillows could a girl use? There must be a dozen, and walking forward she saw a ‘pillow menu’. An invitation to add more.

Thick white carpet enveloped her toes. Two settees, gold brocade with feather cushions, looked squishy and fabulous. The television set looked more like a movie screen.

Two sets of French windows opened to a balcony that overlooked the sea. Below the balcony was a horizon pool, stretching to the beach beyond.

It was magnificent—but Pippa wasn’t exactly into horizon pools. Or pillow menus.

She gazed around her, and the familiar feeling of distaste surfaced. More than distaste. Loneliness?

That’s what these sorts of surroundings said to her.

She was an only child of wealthy parents. She’d been packed off to boarding school when she was six, but during vacations her parents had done ‘the right thing’. Sort of.

They’d taken her to exotic locations and stayed in hotels like this. Her parents had booked her a separate room, not close enough to bother them. They had employed hotel babysitters from the time they arrived to the time they left.

As she got older she pleaded to be left at home. There she least she knew the staff—and, of course, there was Roger.

Roger was the only friend who was permitted to visit when her parents weren’t around. He was the only kid who wasn’t intimidated by her parents’ wealth and ostentation. More than that, he’d been … kind. Three years older than she was, she’d thought he was her best friend.

But now …

She gazed at her surroundings—at a hotel room Roger had chosen—and once again she felt tired. Tired to the bone.

The intern had told her to take it easy. ‘You’ve had a shock. Let your body sleep it off.’

Good advice. She looked down at her half-acre of bed and thought she’d come to the right place to sleep.

And to think?

She wandered out to the balcony and stared out to sea. This was why she’d swum so late on Sunday night—from here the beach practically called to her. A lone surfer, far out, was catching waves with skill.

She’d love to do that.

On the far side of the headland she could see the cream brick building of the North Coast Health Services Hospital. A busy, bustling hospital, perpetually understaffed. Perpetually doing good.

She’d love to do that, too.

And with that, the sudden thought—could she?

What was she thinking? Nursing? Here?

She was here on her honeymoon, not to find a job. But the thought was suddenly there and it wouldn’t go away.

Nursing. Here.

Because of Riley?

No. That was stupid. Really stupid.

‘You’ve been unengaged for less than a week,’ she told herself. ‘You nearly died. You’ve had a horrid experience and it’s rattled you. Yes, you don’t like fancy hotels but get over it. And don’t think past tomorrow.’

But … to work in a hospital where she was desperately needed, to be part of a small team rather than one moveable staff member in a big, impersonal city hospital. To make a difference …