The Boy Who Made Them Love Again. Scarlet Wilson
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hand towards her. ‘I’m in charge of the protective detail for the First Lady.’
Abby nodded silently. The craggy-faced man from earlier. He was a large, imposing fellow with a small scar that snaked across the bridge of his nose. Her mind exploded with a thousand possibilities as to how it had got there, before his intense gaze jerked her back into focus. ‘Sorry,’ she muttered. ‘What can I do for you, Mr Turner?’
‘This is your department?’ It didn’t sound like a question coming from his lips, more like a statement.
‘Yes, it is.’
‘Well, sorry, ma’am, but I need to close your emergency department down.’
‘What?’ Abby’s screech of disbelief echoed around the building. ‘You most certainly will not. I won’t let you. You don’t have the authority to do that…’
He silenced her by holding his hand up directly in front of her face.
‘I do have the authority. As of now, your department is closed. I also need access to all your personnel files.’
‘What?’ This was just going from bad to worse. He wanted to close her department and then spend the day looking at files?
‘I need to have access to everyone’s history. We need to run security checks on everyone in the building.’
‘You want to do what? No! You can’t do that!’
‘Yes, yes, I can. And I will.’ His broad hand had caught her arm to stop her gesticulating wildly. ‘Nothing is more important than the safety and security of the First Lady.’
Abby took a deep breath. ‘Look, Mr Turner, while I appreciate you have a job to do—so do I. This is a small community.’ She waved her arm around the department. ‘I know every single member of staff here. None of them are a risk to the First Lady’s safety or security. I can personally vouch for them all.’
‘That’s very nice, Dr Tyler.’ He shot her a white-toothed, crooked grin. ‘But it’s not going to cut it. We’ll run our own checks on everyone here.’ He glanced around the bustling department. ‘And we’re going to have to restrict the number of staff.’
Abby shook her head. ‘This is a community hospital, Mr Turner. We serve a widespread population that doesn’t have easy access to emergency facilities. If you close us down, the nearest emergency unit is 50 miles away. If there’s an accident at one of the nearby saw mills, or at the harbour, that travel time could cost the life of a patient. We also have links with a special-needs school near here—Parkside. We often have children brought in with breathing or feeding difficulties—taking them somewhere else would cause immense difficulties.’
She glanced towards the white board, which only showed three patients in the department at the moment—two of whom were with James Turner. ‘We’re not normally this quiet.’ Her mind was spinning with endless possibilities. ‘I know this isn’t an ideal situation but the most realistic solution is to move Jennifer Taylor to one of the ward areas once Dr Fairgreaves has examined her. If she’s out of the emergency department, do you really have to close us down?’ Abby couldn’t keep the pleading sound out of her voice. She just couldn’t turn patients away, not when they needed her. ‘I’ll let you see the personnel records if you want—just let me check with the hospital administrator. You’re not going to find anything anyway, but please don’t close down the emergency department.’
‘Do you have floor plans for the hospital?’
He hadn’t moved a muscle. Abby was sure he hadn’t even blinked.
‘What? Yes…yes, I think so.’ She pointed over his shoulder. ‘They’ll be in the hospital administrator’s office.’
‘I’ll get back to you, Dr Tyler.’ He turned swiftly on his heel and stalked off in the direction of the nearby office.
Abby leaned back against the nearby wall and breathed a huge sigh of relief. There was only one other patient in the department right now. Dr Fairgreaves was dealing with Jennifer Taylor. She’d need to wait and see what his recommendations would be. She glanced at her watch and stared up the corridor. She could almost feel the invisible pull. Luke was up there. Probably performing an angioplasty. It had been years since she’d seen him at work. Maybe it was time to go and offer some moral support?
* * *
Luke’s head was spinning. He pushed open the door to the changing room with unexpected venom and started as it thumped off the wall. The First Lady was going to have her baby. Her obstetrician had had an MI. The new obstetrician looked like a tramp but had the credentials of a king. And they were stuck in some backwater part of Mendocino Valley. Stuck with Abby Tyler. He couldn’t have made this up.
He tugged at his red tie and undid the buttons on his shirt, stuffing them in a nearby empty locker. Behind him he found a variety of sizes of theatre scrubs and pulled the familiar clothing over his head.
And she’d kissed him. The lightest kiss, as if a feather had brushed the tip of his nose, and it had sent his blood soaring through his veins as if a rocket had just taken off. What on earth was happening? They’d laughed through their medical training together, stressed through their exams, but spent most of their time in each other’s arms. And for a while he had never been happier. The dark cloud that had hung over his head since his brother had died had finally lifted. He’d met the woman of his dreams. The woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Until she’d started to talk about the future. Their future. A future that involved them having a family. And the dark cloud had appeared again, nestling around his head and shoulders until it had completely enveloped him.
They had been midway through their specialist training by then—he in cardiology, she in paediatrics. And he’d begun to see her in a completely different light. Whenever she’d spoken about the kids, even the ones with terrible outcomes, she’d had a sparkle in her eyes. On the few occasions he’d gone to pick her up from the ward, he’d never found her stuck in an office with her head in the notes—no, she had always been right in the middle of things, leading the games in the middle of the ward, usually with a child under each arm.
He’d seen a few of his friends start to flourish when they’d commenced their specialty, becoming more animated and enthusiastic when they’d spoken about their work. But Abby had truly blossomed. She had excelled at her job and hadn’t hidden her thrill at finally specialising in paediatrics. And after years of study that’s when she’d started to plan ahead. To plan for a family. A family he could never have. And that’s when he’d broken her heart. That’s when he told her he was infertile—an unfortunate complication of teenage mumps.
There had been so many other things going on in his life at the time, and although he had known it was important, he hadn’t taken the time or had the maturity to understand the wider implications—that one day he would meet the woman of his dreams and she would want a family. A family he couldn’t give her.
Maybe it was his fault? Maybe he should have told her right from the beginning that he couldn’t have kids. But then again, it wasn’t your everyday normal topic of conversation. But three years into their relationship—when he’d started to see the signs—he’d sat her down and told her.
To give her her due, Abby had made all the right noises, told him it didn’t matter, that she loved him and that they would find a way to have a family together. But for Luke it had been the death knell of their relationship.
From the moment he’d heard the word ‘infertile’ he’d blocked out all thoughts of a family. Surely there was a hidden message there? If he couldn’t have kids naturally, maybe he wasn’t meant to have kids?
She’d talked about donor sperm, adoption, other possibilities—but he hadn’t wanted to think about those options. Truth was he wasn’t ready to consider those options as he hadn’t really faced up to his infertility yet. So he’d shut himself off from those conversations and had point-blank refused to consider any possibilities.
Every