The Maverick Doctor and Miss Prim/About That Night

“And how would you know this?”

His retort was immediate. And she knew she’d slipped up. There was no way she should know that—no way she sh

ould have heard the director telling Evan that. She tried to turn the conversation around. “How did you find out I was here, anyway?”

“The director. He’s been speaking to me every day. Trying to persuade me that there is a role for me at the DPA. But I’m still undecided.”

“Really?” It was first good news she’d heard. Sawyer had been so set against the DPA when his wife had died. But the past few weeks’ experience had obviously changed his perspective. Things must be changing for him. She smiled. “Is someone helping you make this decision? A certain blonde someone?”

“Sis...” He sighed. “Give it up.”

“What’s happening with you and Callie? Are you seeing her? Remember, I warned you. I like Callie a lot.” She felt her stomach clench a little. Her brother had been distraught when his wife had died on a mission with him and Evan. After six years, meeting Callie had finally put a little joy into his voice again. She really didn’t want him to screw this up.

“Callie is good. No, scratch that. Callie is great.” She could almost see the grin on his face, “We’re going to take things slowly, but I like that. I like her.”

“Should I buy my wedding hat?”

He hesitated and her heart leaped. Matt, really, thinking about that again? “I’m taking it slowly—remember? But maybe you’ll need one in the future.” He changed the subject quickly. “How are you getting on with Evan? Is he treating you okay?”

How did she answer that? That he was keeping her mind from the job and could potentially lead her astray? That she felt as if her skin was on fire every time he brushed against her? That she could have almost put money on the fact he’d been about to kiss her and then he’d stopped? That she didn’t feel ready for any of this?

“He’s a good team leader,” she said quietly.

“What? Tell me you didn’t just say that?”

She straightened in her chair. What did he mean? Did he still hold a grudge because Evan had been team leader when his wife had died? Was there always going to be this animosity between them?

“Listen, Sawyer, I know you probably don’t rate him. And I wasn’t there all those years ago, so I don’t know what happened between you. But Evan seems to be a good team leader. He’s diligent. He’s professional. He’s organized.”

“Whoa, sis, stop right there. You sound like you’re giving me a reference for a business partner, not telling me how the person you’ve traveled with to the other side of the world is treating you.”

“Oh.” She pressed her lips together to stop herself from putting her foot in it any further.

But Sawyer hadn’t finished. “I know we’ve never spoken about this, but I want to make sure he’s treating you okay. Evan and I—there isn’t a lot of love lost between us. My wife died—I was upset. My behavior could have been better. A lot has gone down between us in the past and none of it has ever really been resolved. I’m not sure what his take is on everything, but I don’t really care. What I care about is my sister. Are you okay, sis?”

She held her tongue. How long had she waited to hear those words? What wouldn’t she have given to hear those words three years ago, when she’d felt all alone in the world with a baby to bury?

She blinked back the tears. Thank goodness Sawyer wasn’t here, looking into her eyes. He would know straight away that she was hiding something. And she couldn’t have that conversation with him yet. Maybe never.

Things had been so bad back then. Her mom and stepdad and been devastated when Matt’s wife had died from an ectopic pregnancy. Their daughter-in-law and potential grandchild wiped out in one fell swoop. Not to mention a son who had then shut himself off from the world and disappeared. They hadn’t coped. They hadn’t coped at all.

So when she herself had fallen pregnant unexpectedly, she had felt as if she couldn’t tell them. They would have worried themselves sick. Particularly when they found out she’d chosen to go it alone. Her relationship with Blane had been serious but they had both been so focused on their careers, his in business and hers in medicine, that a baby had never been part of that equation. It had been no surprise when he’d walked away.

So she’d decided to wait. To wait until she had a brand-new granddaughter to present to them. They might be a little shocked, but the arrival of a new grandchild would overcome all of that.

They would have been delighted.

If only it had all worked out that way.

Instead, she’d been left alone with only a few close friends for comfort. She couldn’t tell them—no matter how much she needed them. It would have broken their hearts all over again. They were frail enough as it was.

And now she was here. Three years on. Trying to move on with her life.

First steps. She was still taking the first steps.

“I’m fine, Sawyer. I’ll keep in touch, okay?” There was so much they probably had to say to each other, but now just wasn’t the time. She hung up the phone quickly before he had a chance to say anything else.

It only took her a few moments to get outside. Tears were threatening to spill down her cheeks. She had to get a hold of herself. It was time to move on.

Across on the other side of the village she could see a small gathering of people. Maybe some new arrivals? There seemed to be a few new families in the village every day. She picked up one of the flipbooks about the vaccine.

It was time to get back to work. And there was no time like the present.

* * *

“Evan, can you come and look at a child for me, please?”

He pulled himself away from the computer-generated program that was running, plotting where they still needed to vaccinate.

“Sure. What’s up?” He stood up from the chair and cricked his back. He’d been sitting too long and was getting stiff. It was time to do some leg work.

“One of the children we vaccinated yesterday isn’t looking too well. Can you come and see him?”

He nodded and grabbed his stethoscope and small bag. The mother was in one of the rooms with Olibasi, the small child clutched in her arms. Tears were streaming down her face and she was talking frantically.

Evan walked over quickly and held his hands out for the baby. “What’s wrong, Olibasi?”

Olibasi hesitated, her face serious. “This is Nkoyo. I’ll need to translate as she doesn’t speak any English. She says her son has become unwell since receiving his first vaccine yesterday. She thinks it’s given him polio.”

Evan raised his head quickly. “How old is her son?”

The little boy in his lap was obviously underweight and underdeveloped. Vaccine-associated paralytic polio was rare, but the risk in immuno-deficient children was around seven thousand times higher. A major concern about the oral polio vaccine was its known ability to revert to a form that could cause neurological infection and paralysis—but not this quickly.

“He’s one year.”

Evan took in a sharp breath. The baby looked around seven months and didn’t appear to be meeting his developmental milestones. He couldn’t sit or grasp with his hands. His temperature was low and his abdomen distended. His skin was dry and peeling and his hair thin and discolored. His arms and legs were extremely thin. His head was rolling from side to side and he was limp in Evan’s arms.

He quickly sounded the child’s chest. “Check with his mum—he was okay yesterday? He didn’t feel cold? His belly wasn’t distended like this?”

His brain was working frantically. Whatever was wrong with this child was serious. Olibasi was talking in a low voice to the mother. She was shaking her head.

“I think he’s been unwell for a longer than a day. His abdomen has been distended for a while and he’s had chronic diarrhea. He hasn’t been eating.”

Evan took a deep breath. “Has his mother stopped breastfeeding him recently?”

&nbs

p; Olibasi turned back to the mother. “Yes, she has. The family don’t have much food. She says she wasn’t producing enough milk.”

“Who gave the baby the vaccine?”

“One of the community mobilizers.”

“And they’re not from this village? Have you ever seen this baby before?”

Olibasi shook her head. “They’re from an outlying village. This is the first time they’ve come here.”

Evan ran his finger over the child’s skin again. He was sure he knew what was wrong. But how he explained it to the mother would be most important. The last thing he wanted to do was make her feel responsible.

He cleared his throat. “Tell her it’s definitely not the vaccine. It couldn’t cause effects like this so quickly. Vaccine-associated paralytic polio is very rare—about one case per seven hundred and fifty thousand vaccine recipients. And it’s more likely to occur in adults than in children.”

Olibasi took a few moments to translate to the mother. “She wants to know what’s wrong with her son.”

Evan gave her his best reassuring smile and tried to tread carefully. “I think her son is suffering from a type of protein-energy malnutrition called kwashiorkor. It develops in babies who’ve been weaned from breast milk and who often suffer from other conditions like chronic diarrhea. It causes stunted growth and wasting of muscle and tissue.” He reached over and put his hand on Olibasi’s arm. “Be careful how you translate. This condition hasn’t appeared overnight. Do you think the vaccine gave her an excuse to bring her baby to the village?”

Olibasi’s eyes darkened and she gave just the slightest nod of her head. “Give me a few moments to speak with her.”

Evan kept the little boy in his arms and went to the supply closet. This was the first real case of malnutrition he’d seen since he’d got here. And it was heartbreaking. Back home this child would have bloods taken and be admitted to hospital and given intravenous fluids or tube-fed if required. But out here the options were distinctly limited.

He found some first-line electrolyte solutions and some supplements. It felt inadequate but was the best he could do. “Ask her if she’s willing to stay in the village for a few days. Tell her it’s really important.” There was a real chance that the little boy would be left with an inability to absorb nutrients properly through his intestines, so it was essential that they monitor him in some way.