LITMIR.BIZ

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left the room. She was small and plump with bright, intelligent eyes. ‘The driver was going too fast for these roads and hit another car head on.’

      ‘Any fatalities? ‘ Abby asked.

      ‘Surprisingly not. Luckily the oncoming car managed to swerve in time. The fire brigade had to use the jaws of life to get the driver out. It took hours and we had to keep him ventilated by hand. He’s still on the critical list, but he’s damned lucky to be alive.’ Lucy glanced at her watch. ‘Time for me to go!’ She held out her hand again. ‘It’s good to have another woman on board, Abby. Kirsten and I get a little overwhelmed by all the testosterone around here, don’t we, Kirsten?’

      Kirsten grinned back. ‘Don’t let Lucy kid you—she’s a match for the guys any time.’

      Abby glanced across at Mac, who had remained silent throughout the exchange. He was studying Abby as if she puzzled him.

      ‘Hey, have we met before?’ he asked.

      Abby’s pulse beat even faster. Although she and Sara hadn’t been identical twins there had been similarities between them—hazel eyes, straight noses and curvy mouths. But Sara had cropped her hair short and bleached it platinum blonde for their Greek holiday. In contrast, Abby had kept her shoulder length caramel hair tied back in a ponytail and at that time had worn glasses. The two sisters could hardly have looked more different and unsurprisingly Mac had barely glanced at Abby back then. Even if he did recognise her, this was hardly the time or place to tell him about Sara and Emma. Not that she had decided what to tell him.

      She forced a smile. ‘I don’t think so.’

      He lost the frown and grinned at her. ‘You’re right,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘I would have remembered you. I don’t tend to forget beautiful women.’ He winked at her.

      ‘And unless you’re losing it, they don’t tend to forget you either. That’s what you mean,’ chipped in Lucy. She turned to Abby, her eyes twinkling. ‘Watch out for our Mac here. We love him to bits, but he’s a heart-breaker. Luckily I’m too old for him and Kirsten’s already taken.’

      ‘You know I’d take you to dinner any day of the week, Lucy. Just say the word.’ Mac grinned back.

      ‘Ah, if only,’ Lucy sighed theatrically. She picked up her handbag. ‘I’m out of here.’

      ‘Me too,’ Kirsten said. ‘I’ve got work to do around here!’

      Left alone with Mac, Abby felt as if she had a coiled spring somewhere in her chest. He was still looking at her through half-closed eyes as if she puzzled him. ‘Dr MacNeil,’ she said stiffly. ‘I think we should get on with that tour, don’t you?’

      Again there was that heart-stopping grin. ‘Call me Mac. Everyone else does.’

      Mac stood back to let Abby go in front of him. He whistled under his breath as he watched the way her bottom swayed as she walked. On anyone else the orange uniform tunic top and matching trousers would have been unflattering, but it could have been tailor made for Abby. And, even apart from her figure which looked as if it had been designed with him in mind, she was a stunner. A man could drown in those eyes and as for the high cheekbones, emphasised by the hint of colour his remarks had brought to her cheeks, he had dated models who would scratch their eyes out for bone structure like that. Even the spattering of freckles over her nose didn’t detract from her beauty—if anything, it made her cuter. He had already checked the third finger of her left hand. No wedding ring. Good. This was going to be interesting.

      Mac had only just started showing Abby the little office where Kirsten and her small team fielded the calls when the telephone rang.

      Kirsten held up a finger, asking for silence. They listened as she entered a few details into the computer.

      ‘Try not to worry, love. We’ll have someone there as soon as possible. Stay on the phone while I talk to the doctor.’

      She swivelled around in her chair until she was facing Abby and Mac.

      ‘I have a lady on the line. She’s thirty-four weeks pregnant but thinks she’s gone into early labour. She can’t get herself to the hospital because she’s on a farm and her husband is away with the car.’ Kirsten covered the mouthpiece with her hand. ‘She also tells me she has placenta praevia and was due to be admitted for a Caesarean section in a couple of weeks.’

      ‘Where is the farm?’ Mac asked. Gone was the laconic man of earlier. In his place was someone who was entirely focussed.

      Kirsten pointed to a map. ‘Over here.’

      ‘What about the local road ambulance?’ Abby asked.

      Kirsten shook her head. ‘It’s at least an hour away on these roads and, besides, the woman—she’s called Jenny Hargreaves—says the track to the farm is pretty impassable for anything except a four-by-four. We’ve had some heavy rain over the last fortnight.’

      ‘We need to get her to the maternity unit as fast as possible,’ Mac said. ‘Okay, Kirsten, get Greg to fire the ‘copter up and tell Jenny we’re on our way. Is there anyone with her who can help? A friend? A neighbour?’

      Kirsten shook her head. ‘She’s on her own, apart from her nine-year-old son.’

      ‘Get him on the line and keep him there. Then phone St Piran’s and bring them up to speed. Could you make sure we have an incubator for the baby on board, too? C’mon, Abby. I guess you’re on. Let’s go and get kitted up.’

      As Abby raced after him down the steps and into the cloakroom where their gear was kept, she ran through what she knew about placenta praevia. And what she did know didn’t make her feel any better.

      ‘Not good news, is it?’ she said as Mac passed her a jacket.

      ‘Tell me what you know about the condition.’

      ‘Placenta praevia is where the placenta is lying in front of the baby, blocking the birth canal. I know it can cause massive, even fatal bleeding if left untreated. If she’s already in labour, we don’t have much time.’ Although they had covered complications of childbirth in their training, until Sara it hadn’t crossed Abby’s mind that it could really happen. Now she knew better. Please, God, don’t let this first call end in disaster.

      ‘Do we have an obstetrician on call?’ she asked.

      ‘At St Piran’s. Kirsten will patch us through as soon as we’re airborne. There’s no time to wait, though.’ Mac stopped for a moment and rested his hands on her shoulders. He looked directly into her eyes. ‘Are you going to be okay?’ His look was calm, reassuring. Everything about him radiated confidence and Abby relaxed a little.

      ‘Sure.’ She kept her voice light. ‘All in a day’s work.’

      They piled into the helicopter and lifted off, heading towards the coast.

      ‘ETA twenty minutes,’ Greg’s voice came over the radio. ‘It’s a bit breezy where we’re heading so it might get a little bumpy.’

      ‘Do you think we’ll be able to put down?’ Mac asked.

      ‘There’s a good-sized field behind the farmhouse, but I guess it depends on how soggy the ground is. We won’t know until we get there.’

      Abby and Mac shared a look.

      ‘Have you ever done an emergency section before?’ Abby asked. If they couldn’t get mother and baby to hospital, it would be their only chance. But such a procedure would be tricky even for a qualified obstetrician in a fully equipped theatre. Her heart started pounding again. Confidence was one thing, but did Mac have the skill needed to back it up?

      ‘I have.’ He leaned across and flashed Abby another wicked grin. ‘But don’t worry, I have every intention of letting the obstetricians do it.’ He held up a finger and listened intently.

      A quiet voice came over the radio. ‘Hello,

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