West Wing to Maternity Wing!(6)

His eyes raked the letter for a date. And his brain did rapid calculations. He felt himself sag into a nearby chair.

Six years ago. Her diagnosis had been made six years ago when she'd left  the Amazon boat. Had she known she was sick? Why on earth hadn't she  told him?

His hands skipped over her treatment plans, test results-some good, some  bad. He turned to the inside cover of the notes, searching for her next  of kin.

Nothing. No one listed. He'd known that her mother and father had died a  few years before she'd joined the boat. She'd gone through all this  herself?

Something twisted in his gut. Surprise. Anger. Hurt.

She hadn't told him-and he was hurt. Six months he'd spent with her.  They might not have confessed undying love to each other, but surely  she'd known he would have supported her? Wasn't that what friends did?

After all, that was why she was here now. She needed help-or her baby  did. She obviously felt she could ask him for help now, so why not then?

He could feel the tension in his neck and jaw. Irrational anger built  inside him. His fingers brushed the notes again. He had to push this  stuff aside. He had to deal with her in a professional capacity.

He edged back along the corridor, approaching the curtains quietly. Two seconds later he heard a peal of laughter.

Not girly. Not tinkling. Deep, hearty, genuine laughter. David had  obviously turned on his natural charm again. The man could have people  eating out of his hand within two minutes of meeting them. Something  about the ease and instant familiarity between the two of them bothered  him. Made him want to march into the cubicle and stand between them. How  crazy was that?

Linc cleared his throat loudly and edged his way between the curtains. 'How's things?'

David turned to face him, his head flicking back towards her. 'Amy? Are you happy for Dr Adams to know about your condition?'

Amy blinked. They obviously hadn't had that part of the conversation  yet. 'Actually, Dr Fairgreaves, Lincoln's the reason I'm here. If this  baby is coming early, I'm hoping that Lincoln will look after him for  me.'

Lincoln cast his eyes over the monitor again, noting her rising blood  pressure. 'And is it, David? Is this baby coming early?' Did he really  want to have two premature babies in a community hospital not designed  for the task?

David's face remained static, expressionless to the underlying current  of tension between the two of them. He nodded briefly and handed the  notes to Lincoln.

'Ms Adams in twenty-eight weeks pregnant. For the last few days Amy has  shown some mild signs of pre-eclampsia. A slight rise in blood pressure,  a trace of protein in her urine and some oedema. However, on today's  examination things appear to have progressed.'

He pressed a finger lightly into the swollen skin around Amy's ankle,  leaving a little dimple in the pale flesh that remained there once he  removed the pressure.

'Pitting oedema is now evident, her BP, both systolic and diastolic, has  gone up by another 10mmg and the amount of protein in her urine has  increased.' He gave Amy a wry smile. 'I'm giving Ms Adams the benefit of  the doubt that she didn't have the easiest job getting here today and  that could account for the rise in blood pressure. She also assures me  that, as of yesterday, she is now officially on maternity leave from her  full-time job.' His eyes went carefully from one to the other.

'For the next twenty-four hours I've agreed with Ms Adams that she  requires some careful monitoring. We're going to monitor her blood  pressure, her fluid intake and output and do a twenty-four-hour urine  collection. So … ' he looked directly at Lincoln ' … your services aren't  required in the immediate future but … ' he gave a little nod to Amy ' … I'm  not ruling it out.'

David took a measured breath, his cool grey eyes resting on Lincoln.  'I'm sure you realise the importance of ensuring Ms Adams has a calm  environment. I trust there will be no problems?'

Linc shifted uncomfortably. So David definitely had heard the earlier  exchange. And even though his words were phrased as a question, this was  a direct instruction.

Linc fixed a smile on his face. 'Absolutely, Dr Fairgreaves. Thanks very much for agreeing to monitor Amy.'         

     



 

His point made, David's face relaxed and he gave a nonchalant shrug of  his shoulders. 'Hey, what else am I doing?' Then he slid out between the  curtains.

The silence screamed in Lincoln's ears. She was watching him again,  waiting to see what he would say. His hand automatically ran through his  dishevelled hair-what he wouldn't give for a shower and a comfortable  bed right now. What he really needed was twelve hours' solid sleep, with  some serious blackout blinds. But the way his brain was currently  spinning, there was no chance of that.

He pulled the chair over again and sagged down into it. 'Okay, Amy.  Let's get to it. What's going on here? Where do you normally stay? And  what did David mean about maternity leave? Where do you normally work?'

She crossed her hands in her lap. 'Wow, an interrogation. Or is it an  interview? Is this how you talk to all your potential patients, Dr  Adams? Do I have to pass muster before you'll take my son on as your  patient?'

He shook his head. Sleep deprivation was making him ratty. It didn't  matter what he'd read in her notes. He wasn't going to make this easy  for her. She was going to have to tell him herself. 'This is how I talk  to the girl who walked away six years ago without a backward glance, and  then turns up when she sees me on television.'

Amy felt her bottom lip tremble. This wasn't going well. She could see  he was tired. She knew he would be under extra stress looking after the  First Daughter, but perfect timing was the one thing she didn't have  here. And she needed the assurance of Lincoln's help now.

'That's not fair and you know it.'

He shook his head in frustration. His voice was quiet but even. 'I know.'

She switched into professional mode. 'Okay, Dr Adams. I normally live in  Santa Maria in Butte County-around four hours from here. I work in one  of the free clinics there. And my maternity leave started … ' she glanced  at her watch ' … officially around twelve hours ago.'

Her notes were still in his hands. But he wasn't looking at them. It  looked as though he hadn't read them. It would be so much easier if he  did, then at least he might understand why she'd left.

'Why me, Amy, and why now?'

A loud burr came from the monitor beside her and the electronic  blood-pressure cuff started to inflate again. Amy winced as the cuff  over-inflated on her arm. Linc watched with alarm as the reading on the  monitor climbed higher and higher. One-eighty … one-ninety … two hundred.  Please don't let her blood pressure be that high.

Amy's voice cut through his thoughts. 'There are a lot of kids currently  alive in the Amazon because of you, Linc, and you know it. Kids who  would have died if you hadn't been on that boat.'

She saw him bite his bottom lip. Linc was a team player, not a glory  hunter. She knew how uncomfortable he'd been in that press interview. He  must have said the words 'I have a fantastic team' at least five times.  She knew he wouldn't be interested in the chat-show interviews or  celebrity magazine spreads that would materialise in the near future.

A black-suited figure crossed the gap in the curtains. She waved her  arm. 'Look at all this, Linc. When the First Lady went into premature  labour, who did they call? You. They must have been able to get almost  any doctor in the world, but they chose you to look after the First  Daughter. The first presidential baby in nearly fifty years. What does  that tell you?'

'It tells me I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, Amy, nothing  else.' He shook his head, 'You make it sound grander that it actually  was. Abby Tyler was the admitting physician here in Pelican Cove. She  works with me at San Francisco Children's Hospital. They asked her for a  neonatologist and she recommended me.'

Amy waved her arms, 'And you're telling me that the whole secret-service  brigade out there didn't check your credentials? To make sure that only  the absolute best of the best was looking after the President's baby? I  seriously doubt that. Hell, the other doctor is an award-winner.'

He smiled at her. 'You'll find it hard to believe, but that was sheer  coincidence. David Fairgreaves has a boat moored in Pelican Cove, the  man is an old sea dog. Whenever he's here, Abby has an arrangement to  call him for any obstetric emergencies. He apparently likes to keep his  hand in.'

Amy folded her hands across her chest. 'Oh, come on. You're telling me  the secret service didn't check on him too? Especially that old  stony-faced one. Does he ever smile?'         

     



 

Linc laughed at her description of James Turner, the head of the  presidential security detail, the original man-in-black. 'I think I've  only seen him smile once in the last three days-and that's when he told  Luke Storm, one of the other docs, that he couldn't leave. Somehow I  think his job must drain all sense of humour from his body. He spends  his life looking over his shoulder for potential threats to the  Presidential family.'