The Midwife's Christmas Miracle (Lakeside Mountain Rescue 5)

They were back at the car and she’d never felt so confused in her life. ‘I’m not going to make the first move.’

He unlocked the car with a smile, his expression unperturbed. ‘Then we’re in for a frustrating few months, angel. Good job there are plenty of frozen lakes for me to jump into.’

* * *

He kept his word about not making the first move and for the next two weeks they worked together, ate dinner together, chatted about everything. But he didn’t kiss her. And she didn’t kiss him.

What was the point, when she knew it wasn’t going anywhere?

No matter how great the attraction, she wasn’t willing to subject herself to more trauma when it ended, and she knew it would end.

So she gritted her teeth and ignored the rush of excitement she felt whenever he walked into a room and she forced herself not to stare at him when they ate a meal together and not once did she reach for him even though her hands were burning to touch him.

Jake himself worked punishing hours, sometimes spending whole nights at the hospital, returning home briefly just to shower and shave before returning to do his ward round. His commitment to his patients was absolute and his skill and patience with the mothers astonished her. And she learned a great deal from him and found her confidence growing. He taught her to trust her instincts and not doubt herself.

Just how far she’d come was brought home to her when a young woman was admitted to the labour ward with flu-like symptoms.

Miranda helped her into one of the side rooms and quickly glanced at the letter from the GP. Clearly he’d spoken to one of the obstetric registrars, who had then arranged for admission.

‘I’ve never had a headache like this,’ the woman groaned softly as she curled up on the bed and covered her face with her arms. ‘I feel totally hideous—you have no idea.’

‘I’m going to phone the doctor to tell him you’re here and then I’m going to make you more comfortable,’ Miranda told her gently, frowning slightly as she touched the woman’s forehead. She was burning hot and the expression in her eyes was slightly glazed.

Feeling very uneasy and unwilling to leave the woman on her own, Miranda was about to hit the buzzer when Jake’s SHO, Belinda Morris, walked into the room.

‘Hi, there. I spoke to the GP about Cathy,’ she said cheerfully, walking over to the bed and giving the woman a sympathetic look. ‘I’m Dr Morris. You poor thing. Flu is rotten at any time, but even more so when you’re pregnant. Life can be very unfair.’

Clearly the junior doctor wasn’t in the least alarmed by Cathy’s condition and Miranda forced herself to relax, telling herself that she was just being hypersensitive. It was just because of that one case of shoulder dystocia, she told herself. She’d been imagining emergencies with every patient since then.

While Dr Morris carried out an examination, Miranda checked Cathy’s temperature and found it to be extremely high.

‘No surprises there, then,’ Dr Morris said briskly, when Miranda showed her the reading.

Still telling herself that she was being over-anxious, Miranda slipped off Cathy’s top and frowned. ‘How long have you had this rash, Cathy?’

Cathy lay with her eyes closed. Her breathing was shallow and her cheeks were flushed. ‘Don’t know,’ she murmured finally. ‘Nothing there this morning.’

‘Viral rashes are very common with flu,’ Belinda said briskly, pushing her stethoscope back in her pocket. ‘They resolve over time. Nothing to worry about.’

Miranda wished she felt equally confident. Suddenly her anxiety refused to be suppressed. ‘I think we should call Mr Blackwell.’

‘He’s in a meeting at the moment. We’ll just keep her in for the time being, monitor the baby and see how she goes.’ Belinda walked towards the door with a confident and slightly superior smile. ‘I’ll let Jake know that she’s here. Call me if anything changes.’

The door closed behind her and Miranda looked at the rash again. Viruses often cause a rash, she repeated to herself. Viruses often cause a rash. On impulse she picked up a glass from the side of the bed and pressed it against the woman’s skin. The rash didn’t blanch.

Without hesitation, Miranda hit the emergency button and seconds later Ruth came running in.

Her anxiety levels soaring, Miranda checked Cathy’s temperature again, her hands shaking slightly. ‘Call Mr Blackwell. Call him now.’ She hesitated briefly. ‘And we need to give her intravenous penicillin right away.’

Ruth looked at her and then the rash. ‘Right. I’ll arrange it.’ Without argument or discussion, she left the room and was back moments later accompanied by Jake.

Miranda had never been so relieved to see anyone. Calmed by his presence, she turned back to her patient. ‘When did you start to feel ill, Cathy?’

‘Last night.’ Cathy moved her arms and opened her eyes. ‘I can see two of you,’ she murmured drowsily. ‘Is that normal?’

Jake strode over to the bedside. He was dressed in a beautifully cut suit that emphasised the width of his shoulders and the strength of his physique. He looked serious and businesslike and the usual humour was missing from his blue eyes. It was obvious that he’d come straight from a difficult meeting and Miranda felt a flash of insecurity.

What if she’d bothered him for no reason? What if she was wrong?