Amy Andrews - Found - A Father For Her Child

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is dedicated to all those health care

workers, agencies and volunteers who help with

society’s poor and disadvantaged. Thank you.

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

EPILOGUE

TWO more weeks. Two more weeks. Two more weeks. The words reverberated around Charlie Wentworth’s head in time with the squeak in his back wheel. Two more weeks until he could start living again. The regular Sunday visit with his parents had left him with that familiar bitter taste in his mouth. Between his family’s overt disapproval, the uncertainty over his health and tomorrow’s invasion from the hospital administrator, he had a lot on his mind.

All he had to do was get through the next fortnight. Go through the motions. Co-operate with the hospital hatchet-wielder. See his patients. Take his meds. Keep focused. Go get the blood test. Wait for the results. Then he could get on with living.

Unless the test results were bad. Then what the hell was he going to do? He stepped on the accelerator out of pure frustration. He felt like his life had been on hold for years. The separation, the divorce and now this. The ancient Datsun strained and protested, gaining steadily on the car in front, and Charlie eased his foot off the pedal. Blowing the gearbox wouldn’t bring the next fortnight to a close any faster.

Carrie Douglas flicked her gaze to the rear-view mirror and tensed as the car behind surged closer. Her headlights stabbed into the darkness and she prepared to dip her high beam. She could see Dana’s blonde head slumped to one side, her cute face relaxed in a deep sleep, her ancient blanky snuggled against her cheek.

The other car fell back to a safe distance again and she relaxed. Driving at night on an unfamiliar road made her nervous. Carrying such precious cargo intensified the feeling. It was at times like these one realised that there was only so much as a mother you could do to protect your children. So much more was out of your control.

Thoughts about the job she was starting tomorrow turned over and over in her mind. The hospital was sending her in to sort out the financial mess of one of their inner-city outreach programmes. As far as projects went it looked pretty tedious but with her business and medical degree, she was perfect for the job.

And it wouldn’t be long now until her hard work paid dividends. There were rumours she was being considered for promotion to department head. Both Anaesthetics and Paediatrics were coming up for renewal. From there it would be an easy springboard into the real management hierarchy. In five years she was hoping to make Deputy Medical Director. Glass ceiling be damned!

It was the only thing in her life that mattered other than Dana. She needed financial security for her daughter and herself and to show everyone that her unplanned career diversion had been successful. Losing sight of her goal was not an option. She’d even left her sister’s wedding before the bride and groom so she could catch a decent eight hours’ sleep to ensure she was in good condition for tomorrow’s job.

Carrie saw the headlights of an approaching car illuminate the horizon and adjusted her headlights in preparation. She chewed at her bottom lip, going over everything in her head as the approaching car grew bigger. She glanced in the rear-view mirror again. The car behind was keeping a respectful distance.

Charlie was pulled out of his brooding thoughts in an instant as he noticed the drift of the oncoming car into the path of the car in front of him. Into his path. He became instantly alert, braking reflexively and at the same time noticing the brake lights of the car in front. Great, just the way his luck was running!

He swore as the car crossed the middle line, putting it on a collision course with the car in front.

Letting out an expletive, Carrie stomped on the brake pedal as the fancy red vehicle bore down on her. Her entire life flashed before her eyes. For a split second the world stopped. Her heart beat so loudly in her ears that nothing else registered. It pounded so frantically in her chest her whole body shook with its agitated rhythm. And then panic and instinct took over and she pulled hard on the steering-wheel. Please, God, don’t take me away from Dana.

Carrie held her breath as the red car passed in a blur. For a split second she thought she was safe. But then the red car clipped the rear of hers and she felt her head snap forward, her seatbelt snap tight and her head fling back again, slamming into her headrest as her vehicle spun wildly round and round in the centre of the road.

Charlie swore again as the red car’s trajectory changed on contact with the car in front.

It flipped, rising up over his Datsun, narrowly missing him. He looked in his rear-view mirror as it made contact with the road behind him, smashing into the bitumen and rolling several more times before coming to rest on its wheels in a mass of mangled metal and shattered glass. The remaining headlight shone brokenly on the unmoving form lying in the middle of the road.

‘Dana,’ Carrie called, turning frantically, ignoring the pain in her neck as they came to a stop in the middle of the road. Her daughter’s eyes fluttered open briefly and then she stuck her thumb in her mouth and stroked her blanky against her cheek. Carrie’s mother had always said Dana could sleep through an explosion.

Carrie felt a surge of relief so intense she almost floated out of the car. Dana was fine. Dana was fine. Her baby was fine. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Carrie felt an overwhelming urge to sink to her knees on the road and kiss the ground. She laid her forehead against the steering-wheel and took some deep calming breaths, the immediate shock giving away to the euphoric feeling of having just dodged a bullet.

It took a few seconds for the doctor in Charlie to respond to the inert form lying on the road, shock blunting his reactions. He opened his door, knowing he had to get to the victim lying on the road. But his eyes flicked to the other car that had come to a standstill in the centre of the road not far from him. The person inside was sitting at the steering-wheel, unmoving. Was this person also injured? Two potential victims.

The golden rule of triage—the most critical first. He looked back at the person on the road. Was he even alive? Could he have survived being flung out of a vehicle at high speed? He doubted it. He ran to the first vehicle and wrenched open the door.

‘Are you OK?’

Carrie startled at the brisk demand coming back from the quagmire of her shock. Her heart was hammering like a runaway train, her hands still gripping the steering-wheel. Was she OK? She’d been too concerned with Dana to notice. Her neck hurt a little.

She blinked at the question. ‘I’m f-fine.’

Charlie gave her a quick visual once-over. She didn’t seem to have any obvious injuries. He nodded. ‘I have to go see to the other driver.’ He indicated with his head.

Carrie nodded, noticing the very still person lying on the road for the first time. ‘Yes,’ she said.

And then the man was gone. She lifted her head, gingerly tested the range of movement of her neck. It was tender when she twisted it to the very limit of its capabilities but otherwise it seemed OK. Probably some minor whiplash. Still, Carrie knew how debilitating such an injury could be. She’d get an X-ray some time tomorrow to be sure.

Charlie popped the boot of his car and pulled out his medical kit, complete with oxygen and suction. In his line of work he needed a fully stocked kit ready to go in his car at a moment’s notice, and tonight he was grateful that he’d decided to irritate his father and drive the Datsun. If he’d been driving the BMW, he’d have been up the creek without a paddle.