LITMIR.BIZ

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stages of grief, giving sympathy where it was needed and a proverbial kick in the backside when she was still wearing her heart on her sleeve six months after the separation.

      ‘Enough!’ she’d finally declared. ‘You have to decide whether you want to start your life over again or if you’re going to spend it crying over a man who isn’t coming back.’

      Those words had done what nothing else had been able to. They’d convinced her that she needed to climb out of the pity pit she’d dug for herself and start giving back to society. What better way to forget about your own heartache than to ease the suffering of someone else?

      Ella had talked her into moving from London to the Cotswolds soon afterwards. It had been one of the best decisions of her life.

      Well. Until now. But that hadn’t been Ella’s fault. It had been no one’s. Not even Max’s.

      Annabelle’s pager suddenly beeped at the same time as Ella’s, and they both jumped at the noise. Peering down to look at what had caused the alert, Annabelle read.

      A multi-vehicle accident on the M5 has occurred. A hired bus for a nursery school outing was involved. Several of those patients are en route—eta five minutes. All available personnel please report to A&E.

      ‘Oh, God,’ she said, reaching for her friend’s hand.

      ‘I know. Let’s head over.’ Her friend stopped and gripped the edge of the table for a second.

      ‘Ella?’

      ‘I’m okay.’ She ran a hand through her hair, her face pale. ‘Let’s go.’

      ‘Maybe you should go home instead.’ Almost a third of the hospital staff was out due to a virus that had spread through their ranks. Hopefully Ella wasn’t the latest person to fall victim to the bug.

      Her friend blew out a breath. ‘I hope to God I’m not...’ She stopped again. ‘I’ll be all right. If I start feeling worse, I’ll go home, okay?’

      ‘Are you sure?’

      ‘Yes. Now, let’s get our butts in gear and go and help whoever is coming.’

      * * *

      Max spotted her the second she came out of the lift. She and a familiar redhead hurried past a small Christmas tree towards the assembled staff who were waiting for the first of the ambulances to arrive. The other woman sent him a chilling glare. Perfect. It was Ella. She’d always had it in for him.

      It didn’t matter.

      His ex moved over to him. ‘Any word yet?’

      ‘I don’t know any more than you do.’

      Just then, he caught the sound of a siren in the distance. And then another. Once they hit, they would have to do triage—the kind he’d done during his stints with Doctors Without Borders. This hospital might be more modern than the ones he’d worked in over the last six months, but that didn’t mean that the process of sorting patients from most critical to least would be any easier. Especially not when it came to those involving high-speed crashes. He had to be ready for anything, including cardiac involvement from chest trauma.

      He’d never got used to the cries of suffering while he was in Africa. And it would be no easier here than it had been there.

      A nursery school outing! Of all things.

      Right now, they didn’t even know exactly how many patients were coming in, much less the seriousness of the injuries.

      Then the first emergency vehicle spun into the space in front of the hospital, another stopping right behind it. And, yes, the screams of a child as those back doors were opened cut through him like a knife.

      He moved in to look as the stretcher rolled backwards and onto the ground. A child who couldn’t be more than three came into view, blood covering the sheet of the stretcher. And her right arm... Her shirt sleeve had been cut and parted to reveal the raw flesh of an open fracture, the pearly edge of a bone peeking through.

      One of the orthopaedists moved in. ‘Take her to exam room one. Take vitals, check her for other injuries. I’ll be there in a minute.’ He knew that doctors hated assigning priorities to treatment, but it was the only way to save as many lives as possible. If they treated these patients according to the order they came in, they might condemn a more seriously injured patient to death. It couldn’t work that way. Max knew that from experience.

      A nurse directed the paramedic back towards the interior of the hospital where other staff were preparing to receive whoever came through those doors.

      The assembled doctors met each stretcher as it arrived, specialists matched up with the appropriate accident victims. When Annabelle tried to follow one of the other doctors, Max stopped her. If a critical case came his way, he would need a nurse to assist. And who better than a nurse who dealt with crises on a daily basis? He’d seen her in action when Baby Hope’s pulse ox levels had plummeted. She’d been calm and confident, exactly what he needed.

      It wasn’t an unreasonable request.

      And it had nothing to do with their past, or the fact that working with someone he knew would be easier than a complete stranger. He already knew that he and Annabelle made a great team on a professional level. They’d worked together many times before, since they’d been employed by the same hospital in London during their marriage.

      The next ambulance pulled into the bay. The driver leaped out just as the doors at the back of the vehicle swung open.

      ‘How many more are coming?’ Max called. So far they’d had thirteen patients ranging in age from two to four years in addition to three nursery school workers who’d also sustained injuries. The rescue in the frigid November temperatures had taken its toll as well. Despite being wrapped in blankets, many of the patients were shivering from shock and exposure.

      ‘This is the last one. She was trapped between seats. She sustained blunt force trauma to the chest. She threw PVCs the whole way over.’

      When the wheels of the stretcher hit the ground and made the turn towards them, Max caught sight of a pale face and blue-tinged lips, despite the oxygen mask over her face. A little girl. Probably two years old. Disposable electrode pads had been adhered to a chest that heaved as she gasped for breath.

      ‘How bad?’

      The paramedic shook his head. ‘Difficulty breathing, pulse ox low as is her BP. And her EKG readings are all over the chart. PVCs, a couple of quick ventricular arrhythmias, but nothing sustained.’

      ‘Possible cardiac contusion. Let’s get her inside.’

      As soon as they ran through the doors, Max glanced at her. ‘We’re going straight to ICU. You’ll have to tell me where to go.’

      With Annabelle calling out instructions they arrived on the third-floor unit within minutes. The paramedic had stayed with them the whole time, assisting with moving the stretcher.

      They burst through the entrance to the unit, and Max grabbed every staff member who wasn’t already treating someone and motioned them to the nearest empty room. Together they worked to get the girl hooked up to a heart monitor and take her vitals. The child was conscious, her wide eyes were open, and, although there were tears trickling from the corners of her eyes, her struggle to breathe took precedence over crying.

      Somehow that just made it worse.

      ‘We need to intubate, and then I want to get some X-rays and a CAT scan.’

      He was hearing some crepitus as she breathed, the popping and crackling sounds as her chest expanded indicative of a possible sternal fracture. It could also explain some of her cardiac symptoms. The faster he figured it out, the better the prognosis.

      He leaned down to the child, wishing he at least knew her name. ‘We’re going to take good care of you.’

      Within minutes they’d slid a trach tube into place to regulate her breathing. Her cardiac

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