Redeeming Her Brooding Surgeon. Sue MacKay
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down one bit. Instead, they’d got brighter, sharper, hotter during the weeks of working together. Neither of them had made a move to explore where that raw attraction might lead. She did her best not to be alone with Chase, and suspected he did the same, but the relentless ache was getting to her, and she spoke more abruptly than she’d intended. ‘Is it the pregnant lady needing help?’
‘Sorry I yelled,’ he growled around a wary smile. ‘You didn’t seem to be hearing me.’
‘Really?’ She tipped her head sideways, locked her gaze with his and tried to deny the surge of longing those eyes brought on. Another six weeks of working alongside him. Keep this up and she’d either dislike him intensely or have gone raving mad with desire by the time she left the ship for good. Somehow she doubted dislike would make it onto the ladder.
Chase blinked and his face relaxed some more. ‘Yes, that lady. She won’t let me near. No doubt because I’m male.’
‘You know that’s not uncommon.’ The pregnant women who arrived on the ship via the rescue efforts weren’t used to men pressing their bellies and listening to their unborn babies through stethoscopes.
‘I keep hoping for a different outcome.’ Chase smiled ruefully. She knew he ached for these people like she did. ‘This woman doesn’t speak English.’
‘I’ll find Zala and ask her to explain what we’re doing and if it’s all right to continue.’
Chase’s chin lifted a notch. ‘Zala?’
Kristina smiled to herself. Chase wasn’t the only one who got onside with the refugees effortlessly. He just thought he was. ‘She arrived yesterday. I overheard her asking for water in English.’ Not that it had been easy to understand her mangled pronunciation, but when she’d handed the girl a bottle of water she’d received the most beautiful smile imaginable and a garbled thank you. ‘I don’t know how much she understands but any is better than none.’
‘Agreed. Bring her in and see if we get any further with our patient.’
Kristina gasped. Why hadn’t her senses warned her Chase had moved closer? Suddenly her body was getting up to speed with the fact that this man was too near, sharing the same air as her. Damn the attraction for those arms and legs, for the flat stomach and strong jawline nailing her feet to the floor. She’d spent six long weeks trying to kill off the annoying magnetism Chase’s body had for her. Her mind had it worked out—he was not a man to get close to. He was self-contained in every aspect, appeared to work every hour day and night, was on a life mission to save people no matter where that took him—or so the gossip went. Gossip that fitted with what Libby had told her. She couldn’t risk falling for someone who couldn’t settle down in a place for more than one Christmas in a row. Because, while she wasn’t any better, she was at least working on it.
Time to try some other tactic for moving past the unusual longing to get to know this man who dominated her mind so much. He was all wrong for her, as she was for him. He didn’t have time for anyone who wasn’t a patient in need of his extraordinary medical skills, so she had to stop thinking about him in any role other than the director from whom she took orders. Instructions, not orders. Whichever.
Dreaming about his body and what she’d like to do with it didn’t change the fact she had no room for people who didn’t have time for her. There’d been enough already, starting with her parents. Adding someone else to the list was a recipe for disaster, especially when she had an uneasy feeling that she could get a weeny bit too intrigued by Chase.
Out on deck Kristina made her way through the hordes of people waiting patiently in the shade provided by tarpaulins strung from bulkheads to railings to be seen by the medical staff. Her heart ached for them and made her grateful she could help with their untreated deep-tissue injuries, burns from fuel, malnourishment, infections. Thank goodness Claire had left the ship. Her pregnancy made her vulnerable to illnesses she wasn’t prepared for. Now, there was someone whose life had changed since coming on board the ship. Claire had found love and a wonderful future to look forward to with Ethan.
Kristina shoved aside her envy and focused on reality. ‘Zala,’ she called.
‘Hello?’ The girl glanced at her from under lowered eyebrows.
‘How are you?’ She spoke slowly in order to be understood.
‘All right.’
‘Good. You had food?’
‘Yes.’
Kristina again looked around at the people sprawled on the hard deck, hunger, fear, worry in every pair of eyes watching her. If only she could fix everything for all of them. Back to Zala. ‘Can you help me talk to a woman who needs a doctor to examine...? To look at her baby.’
‘I...’ Zala tapped her chest. ‘I say what you say my way?’
‘Yes.’ Kristina nodded. ‘I’ll keep it simple.’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘That’s all right.’ She reached for the girl’s hand, hesitated. Touching didn’t always mean the same thing to people from the Sudan as it did to Westerners. Retracting her hand, she said, ‘Come with me.’
Back in the treatment room, persistent Chase had returned to his pregnant patient, holding out a water bottle and talking softly, even though not a word was being understood. Around here it was all about the tone of voice and not the words. ‘I think we’re in labour,’ he told Kristina.
‘How do you know?’
‘The way her body stiffens every three minutes.’
Yea, she got her first smile of the morning. He should do that more often, it lightened the green of his eyes to that of a summer’s day in the fields. And set her heart dancing. Damn.
‘She’s not going to want you here.’ Kristina focused on the woman, avoiding getting tangled up in Chase’s searching looks and that blood-warming smile. ‘Do we know of any problems that could make delivery difficult?’
The woman caught her breath and pushed around the tightening in her extended belly.
‘Minor fever. Exhaustion that’s probably due to the pregnancy.’
‘Fingers crossed the baby hasn’t been infected with anything.’ Kristina indicated to Zala to move closer. ‘This woman’s having a baby.’
Zala nodded as if to say, So what? Seeing a birth was probably part of everyday life for her. There’d be no racing off to a hospital or calling out the midwife where she came from.
‘I’m clearing all male staff to the other side of the room,’ Chase said. ‘Call me if you need anything.’
‘I don’t think I’ve got much of a role here either,’ she said, before turning to the woman Zala said was called Marjali. Light stretch marks on the skin covering the extended abdomen confirmed this was not her first pregnancy. ‘She’ll know what to do as much as I do.’ More than I do.
Sweat shone on the woman’s forehead as she pushed and groaned. Zala sat at her other side and chattered in short, sharp sentences before telling Kristina, ‘Four babies. Two alive. On boat with her and father.’
‘Are they all right?’ What had happened to the other children? Kristina’s heart squeezed. She’d never get used to the despair these people faced daily. There were times she felt so inadequate she wondered if it would be better to leave them to what they were used to and not offer promises through medicine. But she hadn’t become a doctor only to turn her back on anyone needing her skills.
When her twelve weeks with Medicine For All were up she’d head back to England. She wouldn’t do another stint on the ship. It was too distressing. Many of the medical people who worked in the organisation coped well with—or managed to hide—their emotions. She struggled to do either.
A sharp cry brought Kristina back to the marvel that lay before