Radclyffe - Crossroads

“I’m glad you told me.”

Hollis stood, hollow-eyed. “Come back to the clinic, Annie. It’s where you belong. I’m not going to bother you anymore.”

“Hollis,” Annie said, rising quickly. “Don’t—”

What was she going to say. Don’t go? She’d told Hollis to go and she was still afraid. But the answers didn’t really matter. Hollis was already gone.

Chapter Twenty-seven

The buzz of her cell phone pulled Hollis from an uneasy sleep. The early-July night air hung heavily in the room, and she shook her head to clear away the haze. “Monroe.”

“Hollis? It’s Annie.”

“Annie?” Hollis jolted upright, the tendrils of sleep fractured by sudden alarm. She hadn’t seen Annie or heard her voice in nearly a month, but she recognized the tightly controlled tension in her words. Her stomach twisted. “What is it?”

“I’ve got a patient with a breech. External version hasn’t worked, and I’m concerned we’ve got a footling presentation. We’ve waited long enough.”

“Where are you?”

“We’re fifteen minutes from the medical center. I’ve already called for transport…wait a minute. The ambulance is just pulling up. I don’t know if you’re on call—”

“I’ll be right there.”

“You have my number. If you could call me after you see—”

“No, you stay with her. She’ll want you there.” Hollis took a breath. “So do I.”

A fraction of silence. “Of course. Thank you. The paramedics are here. Do you want to talk to them?”

“No. You know what to do. I’ll meet you in the ER.” Hollis disconnected, stripped off the shorts and T-shirt she’d fallen asleep in, and pulled on jeans and button-up shirt she didn’t bother to tuck in. She glanced at the clock on her way out. Eleven forty. Of course. She swiped her keys from the table inside the door and hurried down the sidewalk. Annie would have already talked to the ER docs. The EMTs would take care of stabilizing the patient en route, and Annie would prepare the patient for what would happen at the hospital. Annie could handle things.

God, Annie. She’d been trying not to think of her and now she didn’t even pretend she didn’t want to. Hollis drove the route to PMC automatically and replayed the last few rotten weeks. Annie had not come back to the clinic. Suzanne had rotated through for a week, then a guy named Chris—apparently the only male midwife in the region—then Allison. Each Monday Hollis had looked for Annie, but Annie had not come. She’d told Annie she wouldn’t bother her anymore, and she’d kept her word. She hadn’t called her. Pride maybe, or fear. Fear if she called, Annie would send her away and truly be gone. That would cut in ways she hadn’t thought she could hurt any longer.

Avoidance wasn’t in her nature, and every morning when she woke, her first conscious thought was of Annie. The surge of happiness when Annie’s face flashed into her mind quickly dissolved into pain when she realized Annie was gone. She missed her. She missed the challenge of her, the tenderness of her, the desire that swelled each time she saw her. She missed Callie too, and the unadulterated pleasure of watching her embrace the world with unbridled enthusiasm. Joy, desire, longing, and wonder. She hadn’t felt any of those things since the day Rob died. She hadn’t realized until now that she missed them. She’d decided long ago that the pleasure was not worth the chance of pain, but maybe she had been wrong.

She pulled into the nearly empty physicians’ lot at PMC and focused on the job ahead. Her pulse steadied, her mind cleared. When she walked into the emergency room, the first person she saw was Linda. “Are they here yet?”

“ETA two minutes. We’ve got twelve set up for her. The ultrasound is in there already.”

“Good. The OR on standby?”

Linda nodded. “I thought Moorehouse was on call for you guys.”

“Special patient. How are you doing?”

Linda looked the way pregnant women did when they were approaching the last stages. The full mound of her abdomen dominated her small frame, her skin glowed with a rosy hue, her eyes shone with secret expectation. She was beautiful.

“I’ve been doing fine.” Linda held up crossed fingers. “Not a twinge. Annie says the baby is right on schedule. Twelve weeks and counting.”

The mention of Annie’s name sent a pang through Hollis’s belly, but she kept her smile in place. “Excellent.”

“I haven’t seen you much this summer,” Linda said, a probing tone in her voice. “You missed a couple of spectacular barbecues.”

“Been busy.”

“Uh-huh. I heard you and Quinn are training together.”

“We’re putting in some miles. Arly is tireless. Been keeping me jumping.”

“Uh-huh,” Linda said again, eyeing her with a look that said she knew there was more to the story.

Behind her, the ER doors whooshed open, and Hollis turned, grateful for the interruption. The paramedics pushed in a stretcher bearing a pregnant woman covered to her shoulders by a thin white sheet and surrounded by equipment. A balding man in a rumpled shirt, camo shorts, and flip-flops hurried alongside, his hand gripping hers. Annie, in a plain blue scrub top and tan pants, held on to the side rail, her head bent to the patient. The sight of her was a kick to Hollis’s chest. Annie looked tired, but more beautiful than ever. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, her expression calm and steady. When she looked up and saw Hollis, color rose to her cheeks.

“Take her in twelve,” Hollis told the EMT.

“You got it,” he said in passing.

Annie stepped away and Hollis said, “Hi.”

“Thank you for being here.” Annie followed the stretcher as it turned around the corner and disappeared. She looked at Hollis, her gaze searching. “I didn’t know who was on call, but I wanted you.”

“Anytime.” Hollis wanted to say more. Wanted to say I’ve missed you, I wanted to call. I should have called. I was an idiot to walk away. Later, maybe later. Now they had another battle to wage. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“She’s thirty-six weeks and went into labor about seven hours ago. It’s her second child, the first was an uncomplicated vaginal delivery.” Annie’s gaze followed the stretcher down the hall. “We knew the baby was breech, but she really wanted to try at home. Suzanne was with me. She’s delivered a lot of breeches, and we’ve been watching her carefully. External version seemed to work, but the baby flipped again and I think a foot is down. She’s stalled and I’m not comfortable with the whole situation.”

“Any prenatal problems?”

“Some edema that started at about seven months, but nothing else.” Annie shook her head. “I’ve been concerned about the presentation all along, and I told her we might need to change plans. She’s prepared.”

“All right. Let’s have a look.”

The ultrasound confirmed Annie’s impression. The baby was facing the right side, head up, and one leg down.

“The cord is low lying,” Hollis said to Annie as they reviewed the scan. “If we try for a vaginal delivery we risk cord compression, especially if we need to go to forceps.”

Annie sighed. “I’ll talk to her, unless you—”

“No,” Hollis said. “You have the relationship with her. Let’s go.”

“Dr. Monroe and I agree,” Annie said, taking Kathy’s hand. “The safest thing for the baby is to go with a C-section.”

“When?” Kathy’s gaze flicked to her husband, who nodded.

“It’s time,” Annie said. “Dr. Monroe will do the surgery as soon as the OR is ready.”

“Can you keep me awake?” Kathy looked at Hollis.

“That’s up to anesthesia,” Hollis said, “but we’ll try. You’ll need an epidural, and depending on how things go upstairs, you may need to be sedated or even given general anesthesia. But we’ll try.”