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Authors: Alison Roberts

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BOOK: Wishing for a Miracle
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CHAPTER EIGHT

T
HE
clouds that had been gathering as they travelled home became a storm that hit the headlines the next day. There were accidents everywhere, with drivers unable to handle dangerous road conditions and the high winds damaging houses and trees, with some unfortunate people getting in the way of the debris. Roads were closed and the emergency services were inundated with calls.

The helicopter was grounded but Julia and Mac had never been so busy. They sped around the city, going from one job to the next with barely enough time to grab something to eat or drink, let alone talk to each other about anything other than the next job. And that suited Mac just fine because he had nothing he wanted to say. Nothing he could say, anyway, until he'd got his head around all this a bit more. The distance created between them yesterday had grown overnight. It had taken a huge leap when Mac had dropped her home and hadn't stayed. He couldn't. He'd needed time to think.

‘Angus has been complaining about the state
of the laundry,' was all he said. ‘It's high time I caught up on some chores.'

 

There was a lull in the weather, late in the day and Julia and Mac were dispatched to a rural area. A woman was in labour and she was alone in an isolated farmhouse apart from her three other children. It had been the eldest, an eight-year-old girl, who had made the call for help.

‘Mummy's bleeding,' she'd sobbed. ‘And I don't know where Daddy's gone. I tried to get to the Kendricks next door but the bridge is all covered with water and…I can't swim and…and I don't know what to do…'

Joe had looked dubious. ‘We don't know how long this lull is going to last. It's a good thirty-minute flight. No guarantee we'll be able to evacuate her if we do manage to land.'

‘She needs help,' Mac said. ‘Just how risky is it?'

Joe shrugged. ‘We've been out in worse.'

Not much worse that Mac could remember. The flight was rough. Ten minutes into it and he wasn't surprised Julia was looking pale.

‘You OK?' He knew his tone was cool but he couldn't help it. The anger that the perfect woman should present herself and then make it clear that she didn't see any kind of future with him was unbearable. She
knew
how he felt about kids. How important a family was to him.

‘I'm fine.' She didn't meet his gaze.

She didn't look fine. They hit a particularly vicious air current and the chopper slewed sideways. Joe swore softly but Mac closed his eyes. It had been his call in the end to scramble this mission. What if he'd put them all in danger?

If he'd put Julia in danger?

The thought was unbearable. Never mind that he was so upset. At some level he knew he was being irrational. It wasn't Julia's fault that she didn't have any ambition to be part of a family. It was simply part of who she was. The courageous, clever woman he'd fallen in love with. He'd put his own life on the line, any day, to ensure her safety. Even now with the anger that was a kind of physical pain.

Her frightened gaze met his. He held it for just a heartbeat. He didn't have to smile, thank goodness. He knew the instant the silent message he was trying to send—that they would be all right—had been received. He saw the way she caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she averted her gaze. The movement of her body as she took a deep breath and…he saw just the corner of a determined, albeit grim smile.

And in that moment of courage that he'd contributed to, Mac realised he'd never had this kind of a connection with any other person. That he'd never find someone else that felt so much like a part of himself. It shouldn't matter a bit that Julia didn't share his dream of having kids but it did. It hurt like hell.

‘Target sighted,' he said tersely, minutes later. ‘Man, that river's high. And look at the trees in it. I'm not surprised the bridge is washed out.'

‘Sooner we're down the better,' Joe muttered. ‘I don't like the way this wind is picking up.'

The landing was heavy. A jarring thump.

‘Sorry 'bout that,' Joe said. ‘Everybody all right?'

The wind shook the aircraft and the rotors howled as they slowed.

‘What are our chances of being able to take off again, Joe?'

‘Soon?' Joe shook his head. ‘Nil.'

Mac nodded. ‘Right, then. You may as well make yourself useful, Joe, and help us carry some gear into the house.'

 

A small girl with curly, red hair met them at the door to the farmhouse. She had two smaller boys clinging to her legs.

‘Are you Maggie?' Mac asked.

She nodded, her face tear-streaked and terrified.

Mac crouched down. ‘You're a very brave girl,' he told her. ‘Can you show us where Mum is?'

Maggie nodded again and tried to move but she was impeded by two sets of small arms. One set belonged to a boy of about five who clung to her waist. The youngest boy was about two years old. A toddler who had a firm grip on her leg.

Mac had his backpack on and another bag in his hands which he handed to Julia. He swung the toddler under one arm and held out his other hand to Maggie. She took it without hesitation, her other hand taking her brother's, and Julia had to swallow past a lump in her throat as she followed the chain of small people attached to Mac. It was so easy for him to win their trust. So natural.

No wonder he was so disappointed with her. He hadn't been able to bring himself to say a single word to her today that hadn't had something to do with a job. Except for asking whether she was OK in that turbu
lence. And even asking that, he had managed to sound distant. As though it was simply professional concern. As Joe's had been on landing. He'd known she'd been scared, too and his expression had told her she had nothing to worry about, but even then he hadn't been able to bring himself to smile at her. Her heart heavy, she trudged in her partner's wake.

They found the children's mother on the kitchen floor and it was obvious she was in trouble. Gripped by a contraction, she was barely aware of the influx of people. Mac handed the toddler to Joe and bent towards Maggie.

‘We're going to take care of your mum,' he said. ‘I need you to go with Joe and help look after your brothers. Can you do that?'

Julia was already crouched beside the woman, her hand on her wrist seeking a pulse. She looked up as Maggie nodded and turned away.

‘What's your mum's name?' she asked.

‘Katherine,' Maggie said, her huge, worried eyes turned towards her mother. ‘But Daddy calls her Katie.'

‘Katie? Can you hear me?'

The woman's eyes flickered open. She was breathing fast but her respirations were shallow.

‘My name's Julia and this is Mac. We're paramedics with a helicopter crew.'

‘Thank God you're here… My poor wee Maggie.'

‘She's fine. How long have you been in labour, Katie?'

‘What's the time?'

‘Nearly 4 p.m.'

‘Doug went out after lunch. I guess the pain came on not long after.'

‘Suddenly?'

‘Yes…well, it got a lot worse. I've had backache for days. And then my waters broke.'

‘How many weeks are you?'

‘Thirty-eight… No, it must be almost thirty-nine.'

‘And were your previous deliveries normal?'

‘Yes. Nothing like this…'

Julia gave up trying to get a heart rate. The pulse beneath her fingers was thready and fast. No surprises there. Katie had been in labour for hours. She would have been exhausted even without the fear of being in this situation without medical assistance. And on top of that, she was losing blood. Julia turned to Mac, who was organising their gear. He had an oxygen mask already attached to a cylinder.

‘Ten litres per minute,' he told Julia as he bent towards their patient. ‘Hi, Katie. I'm Mac. I'm just going to slip this oxygen mask on for you, is that OK?'

He smiled at Katie. The kind of smile Julia had been missing all day. The kind that made a patient, who was exhausted and in pain and probably worried sick about all her children as well as the baby she was about to have, smile back.

‘We need an IV and some fluids up.' Julia's voice came out a little more crisply than she had intended.

Mac's smile faded. ‘Whatever you need.' His nod was as crisp as her order as he turned back to the pack of supplies.

The message was clear. Julia was in charge of this
job if she was confident she could handle it. Or course she was. This was—or hopefully would be very soon—a paediatric case. She needed the experience.

‘I'd like the life pack on and a full set of baseline vitals, thanks,' she told Mac. She turned back to Katie. ‘I need to check what's going on below. Is that OK?'

Katie nodded. ‘Please…do whatever you have to.' Her face crumpled. ‘This wasn't supposed to happen. I was going into hospital tomorrow because the doctor said… Ohhh…it's starting again…'

‘Hold my hand,' Mac directed. ‘Squeeze as hard as you like.'

Julia was cutting away Katie's clothing. She put a towel down to help soak up the liquid on the floor. A mixture of amniotic fluid and blood but she couldn't see any evidence of meconium staining that could indicate that the danger to the baby's welfare might be getting critical. It was hard to estimate how much blood had been lost. Or why it was happening.

‘What did the doctor say, Katie?' she asked as soon as she could see the pain of the contraction begin to fade.

‘That I had to get to hospital in good time. Something about my placenta being a bit low.'

Julia's gaze flew to Mac's. A placenta that was too low could start to bleed badly as the cervix dilated and ripped blood vessels. How much worse could this blood loss become before the baby arrived?

Her gloved fingers were searching for information. Delivery was well under way but something felt wrong with the baby's head. It was… Julia's heart sank. ‘It's breech,' she told Mac.

Katie stifled another sob. ‘The doctor said that if she couldn't be turned this week, I might have to have a Caesarean.'

Mac had just slipped an IV cannula into Katie's forearm. He was holding it in place, waiting to secure it and attach the necessary fluids. Waiting to engage in one of those lightning-fast silent conversations.

You want me to take over?

I know what to do. I just haven't done it before.

You'll be fine. I'm here. You can do this.

She could. It was helpful that this wasn't Katie's first baby. An episiotomy was probably not necessary, which was good because it wasn't in Julia's scope of practice.

‘Katie? I know you're tired, hon, but could you try and give a good push with the next contraction?'

‘I'll…try…'

She did. The baby's buttocks came into view and Julia was able to hold the hips and apply gentle traction until the shoulder blades came into view. She rotated the trunk of the baby until the front shoulder was delivered and then turned it in the opposite direction to deliver the other shoulder.

Thirty seconds, she reminded herself, to let the trunk hang and protect the head of the baby. Longer than you think. Count. Then lift the legs and swing upwards in an arc until you can see the baby's mouth.

Mac was there with the small rubber bulb and nozzle to clear the baby's airway and allow it to start breathing.

Now it was Julia's job to control the delivery of the baby's head to protect it against sudden expansion and
expulsion. She slipped her index finger into the tiny mouth and flexed the head.

‘
Ohhh
…!' Katie groaned.

Julia could feel the pressure as the contraction built. As gently as she could she eased the baby's head out. And despite Julia's concern for the blood loss, for this moment, there was joy. Amazement.

‘It's a wee girl, Katie.' Mac's voice sounded thick. ‘She looks a very good weight.'

‘Let me see…oh, please… Let me hold her.'

Julia was happy with what she could see. The baby was a good colour and already breathing well. With a nod she allowed Mac's hands to slip between hers and she transferred the precious bundle. He placed the baby on Katie's chest and covered them both with clean, fluffy towels.

Julia clamped and divided the cord and began to massage Katie's abdomen to stimulate another contraction and speed up delivery of the placenta. If that was enough to stop the bleeding, they would be all right until they could transfer their patient to hospital, no matter how long it took.

 

Darkness fell and the wild weather continued. The bridge was washed away, isolating the farm from any roads. Phone lines were down and the power was off. The SERT helicopter was going nowhere. They were stuck for the night at least and Mac was absolutely loving it.

The old stone farmhouse was solid enough to withstand whatever nature could hurl at it and the tension of any medical crisis was over. Julia had handled every
thing brilliantly. A difficult birth, the careful monitoring of Katie until the bleeding stopped completely and her blood pressure climbed back to normal limits, and a commendably thorough paediatric assessment of the newborn girl.

‘Her name's Fiona, for the birth certificate and paperwork,' Katie told them. ‘But we're going to call her Noni.'

‘Noni,' the other children chorused from the door, drawn by the sound of a crying baby now the proud recipient of a perfect Apgar score by Julia. ‘We want to see Noni.'

‘Mummy?' Maggie's face shone. ‘You're all better now?'

‘I'm fine, darling. Come in, all of you. Come and welcome your new little sister.'

It was Mac's turn to take charge of the scene for a while but he couldn't see any reason to move from the kitchen. It was a vast room, with an Aga, sink and pantry at one end, a well-scrubbed table and half a dozen chairs in the middle and at the other end was an open fireplace, an old, comfortable-looking couch and two armchairs.

BOOK: Wishing for a Miracle
13.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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