His Longed-For Baby. Josie Metcalfe
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If not, perhaps she should just leave this evening as scheduled.
Her primary examination of the patient over, and vital signs recorded, she stepped back behind the screen as a series of X-rays were taken of her next patient and speculated idly that, in the absence of a new husband, she could always ask a handsome Mediterranean waiter to rub sunscreen on the bits she couldn’t reach. With nothing and no one to distract her, she might even end up with a decent tan.
At least if she went away she wouldn’t have to worry about where she was going to be sleeping tonight, but that still left her with the problem of storing her belongings.
‘Fracture at C4, transversely across the vertebral body’ was the verdict, even as her hand hovered over the cervical collar, hoping for the all-clear to remove it.
‘How bad?’ Maggie demanded, suddenly worrying that she might have missed something vital while her thoughts had wandered into her personal life.
‘Whatever you do, don’t take the collar off,’ the radiologist said dryly. ‘It’s a good job the paramedics know their stuff or we’d probably be looking at paralysis.’
Maggie started breathing again, grateful that her medical faculties had been performing in spite of herself. With her patient stabilised as far as possible, all she had to do was hand the rest of his treatment over to someone from Orthopaedics…that and renew her resolve to keep her mind on her job.
When the current crisis was over would be soon enough to worry about moving her belongings out of her place and sorting out the rest of her life.
‘How are you doing?’ Jake murmured some time later, his deep voice breaking into her concentration, startling her when it emerged so close to her and sending a quiver of awareness through her.
Was he asking whether she was coping with the unrelenting pace of work? He shouldn’t, because she was certain she’d more than proved herself capable over the last two years. They’d already had two DOAs since they’d arrived today, and she’d lost count of the other cases who’d come through their hands. And this was just one of the rooms coping with the influx.
Or was he referring to the unspoken rumours surrounding her about the cancelled wedding? She could hardly be oblivious to the mixture of pity and speculation in her colleagues’ eyes, or the odd muttered comments that she wasn’t supposed to hear. More direct interrogation would probably come as soon as anyone had enough spare breath to ask the first question.
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