Summer Fling

‘I’ll go and get the car,’ Steve began, but at that moment Sonia turned her head and was violently sick into the bowl that Steve had left by her side.

‘She can’t go on a ferry like this, Logan,’ Evanna remonstrated softly, sliding a hand over Sonia’s shoulders to support her, ‘neither can she go on a helicopter. I need to examine her, but I think she’s in transition.’

‘Transition?’ Logan repeated the word as if he’d never heard it before, and Evanna felt a twist of unease deep inside her.

Since the death of his wife in childbirth, Logan had always been careful to transfer every woman to the mainland in time for delivery.

Was he going to be able to cope with this?

‘She’s not going anywhere, Logan. She’s going to have the baby here, and that’s fine.’ For everyone’s sake, Evanna kept her voice calm and steady. She didn’t want to frighten Sonia. Logan’s jaw tightened and he glared at her as if she were personally responsible for the fact that Sonia had gone into labour a month early while still on the island.

Understanding the reason for his tension, Evanna wanted to reach out and hug him. She wanted to tell him that she understood. She wanted to reassure him and talk it through with him, but Sonia gave another groan and writhed in agony.

‘Breathe in now, Sonia,’ Evanna instructed, her eyes still on Logan’s face as she coached Sonia through the contraction. ‘That’s good. Well done. Just as we practised in class.’ She was talking and encouraging but her attention was on Logan.

His face was white and drawn and suddenly she felt tiny fingers of panic slide down her spine. If this turned out to be a normal delivery then there would be no problem, but if she needed a doctor, would Logan be able to help?

She’d never known him like this before—never known him anything but completely calm and in control. Normally it was Logan who led everything. The time Michael King had crashed his tractor and suffered a severe head injury, it had been Logan who had managed to keep him alive. When Barbara Mullond’s baby had developed meningitis, it had been Logan’s quick actions and incredible instincts that had prevented a disaster. He was never anything less than confident and skilled and she was used to turning to him.

As Sonia’s contraction eased, Evanna rocked back on her heels and snapped on a pair of gloves.

Was it her fault? Should she have sent Sonia into hospital sooner? But even as she asked herself the question, she knew that the answer to that was no. She’d looked at the guidelines, she’d discussed Sonia’s case with the hospital and she’d monitored her regularly. She’d done all the right things, but the truth was that, no matter how careful they were, childbirth was occasionally unpredictable. They couldn’t transfer everyone just because they lived in a rural area.

But Logan certainly didn’t need this particular outcome.

Why did life have to be so complicated? Why couldn’t Sonia’s delivery have been straightforward? Logan’s face was white and drawn and Evanna felt awful for him, hardly daring to imagine what he must be thinking. After what had happened with Catherine, he didn’t need this. And she wasn’t in a position to offer the support he deserved because she had a labouring woman to deal with.

Afterwards, she promised herself, forgetting the awkwardness that had suddenly emerged between them. After this was over she’d make sure he had the opportunity to talk.

Before she could examine Sonia, another contraction consumed her and suddenly Evanna was in absolutely no doubt that the arrival of the baby was imminent. There was going to be no time to get her to the mainland. No time even to track down Ethan, the other island doctor.

Somehow she was going to have to do this by herself but make it look as though Logan was helping. She didn’t want the inhabitants of the island gossiping.

‘I don’t want to do this any more! I’ve changed my mind.’ Sonia started to sob and thump her husband. ‘This is all your fault. All of it. I hate you. I really hate you. You were the one who wanted children!’

‘You said you wanted them, too. Sonia.’ Stricken and helpless, Steve tried to take her in his arms but she thumped his chest and pushed him away.

‘Get away from me! Don’t touch me! I hope you wanted an only child because this is the last baby we’re going to have!’ Sonia gave a gasp and then leaned over and vomited again.

‘You poor thing,’ Evanna soothed, holding the bowl and gently stroking Sonia’s damp hair away from her face. ‘You’re in transition, Sonia. Do you remember that we talked about that stage? This is often the most uncomfortable bit of the whole process, but you’re nearly there. When this contraction passes I’m going to examine you and I’m willing to bet that you’re almost fully dilated and ready to push.’

Sonia’s face was blotched with tears and she clutched at Evanna’s hand. ‘I’m scared,’ she confessed, her face crumpling. ‘It wasn’t supposed to be like this, was it? I know it’s dangerous—’

‘It’s not at all dangerous,’ Evanna soothed, her voice calm and level. ‘People have babies at home all the time. It’s perfect.’

‘But they don’t have babies stuck on Glenmore Island! You didn’t want me to have this baby at home. Dr MacNeil didn’t want me to have it at home.’

‘Doctors never do, but that doesn’t mean that Dr MacNeil isn’t perfectly capable of assisting in a delivery if he has to,’ Evanna said firmly, hoping that Logan wouldn’t contradict her. She slid a hand over Sonia’s abdomen, feeling the tightening. ‘You’ve got another contraction coming now, Sonia. Lovely deep breath for me.’

‘It’s all going wrong.’

‘Everything is completely normal. Nothing is going wrong.’ Evanna glanced towards Logan, willing him to say something to support her—something encouraging—but he was frozen to the spot, his face an expressionless mask. She felt her insides twis

t in sympathy. She could only imagine just how terrible this situation must be for him. It must bring everything back.

Perhaps some fresh air would do the trick. ‘Logan.’ She kept her voice light and confident. ‘Can you go to the car and fetch the delivery pack from my boot, please?’

For a moment he didn’t respond and she wondered if he’d even heard her. What should she do? Uneasily, she repeated her question.