Hotblooded (7 page)

“Are you feeling any contractions?”

Amanda looked dazed as she looked up. “No.”

Brooke braced herself as Amanda realized who was in front of her.

“I didn’t want them to call you.”

Brooke’s flinch was internal only. She switched to her firm but gentle I’m-the-boss-here tone of voice. “We have to be sure the baby is okay. We can deal with everything else later.”

She actually pulled back as Brooke leaned forward with a blood pressure cuff. “No.”

“Amanda.” Brooke tried her best to ignore the crowd around them witnessing the denunciation. “Right now your baby’s health depends on you cooperating with me.” She reached for Amanda’s arm a second time.

“I’ll be fine until I can get to Amarillo,” Amanda insisted.

Brooke didn’t reach for her again. Instead she sat back on her heels, still at eye level with the other woman, and changed strategies, starting her assessment with questions instead. “What happened?”

Amanda didn’t answer her. She simply stared at Brooke defiantly. After a few seconds, Laura Clark, the postmistress, stepped forward.

“She was flipping through her mail and missed the top step. She slipped down all three steps with her right foot and twisted her left ankle behind her. She sat down hard on the second step there.”

Brooke looked at Amanda with renewed intent. “What kind of pain are you having?”

Amanda focused on a spot over Brooke’s shoulder.

“Looked like she was doin’ the splits,” Laura volunteered.

Brooke’s concern mounted. “Amanda, this could be serious. Where are you in pain? Your water didn’t break?”

Amanda sighed as if the weight of the world was resting on her shoulders. “No, my water didn’t break,” she said impatiently. “I would know if my water broke. Nothing is wrong. The baby is fine.”

“We have to check you out.” Brooke got to her feet, through with this ridiculous arguing. So Amanda was holding a grudge. Fine. She could be jealous and petty at the clinic on the exam table as well as she could right here. “Let’s go. Carla’s got the truck ready.”

“I’m not going with you.” Amanda crossed her arms over her rounded belly, looking a great deal like a pouting three-year-old. “I want someone else to check me out.”

“There is no one else.” Thunder rumbled overhead while Brooke struggled to hold onto her calm façade. She felt like a storm was mounting inside her as well.

She had no tolerance for this spoiled girl who was no more mature regarding their relationship now than she had been at eighteen when Brooke ran off with—and married—her steady boyfriend.

“I’m all you’ve got,” Brooke informed her, meeting Amanda’s eyes directly. “I can help you. But you have to cooperate.” Brooke signaled to Carla to call for the helicopter even as she was speaking to her stubborn pseudo-patient. “We’ll arrange to transport you to Amarillo from the clinic after I examine you and make sure you and the baby are safe to travel.”

“No.” Amanda turned to face Brooke, her eyes narrow. “My father will take me. I don’t need you.”

“Amanda—”

“Enough.”

Brooke turned as Jack stepped forward, bent, hooked Amanda behind the knees and tipped her into his arms as he stood.

“What are you doing?” Amanda shrieked.

“I’m afraid I must insist that you be examined here before going to Amarillo,” Jack said, striding toward the passenger side of the truck. Carla scrambled to open the door.

“Who are you?” Amanda challenged.

“Jack, really…” Brooke started after them. She recognized that he was trying to help her, but he was making things so much worse.

Jack deposited Amanda on the front passenger seat. “Doctor Jack Silver.”

Brooke stopped abruptly at the curb, unable to make her legs move any closer to the truck.

Jack slammed the door, but the window was down and Brooke heard Amanda ask, “You’re a medical doctor?”

Brooke watched dumbly as Jack motioned for Carla to toss him the truck’s keys.

Was he kidding? Surely he wasn’t… He couldn’t be… Why wouldn’t he have told her?

Brooke was balanced precariously between anger that he’d kept the information from her and an overwhelming feeling of relief. Someone was here who could take control of the situation. He could help Amanda, and Amanda would let him. The baby would be okay.

“Yes. I’m an emergency physician.” Jack climbed into the driver’s seat.

“I’d like to see some identification,” Amanda told him in her all-too-familiar superior tone of voice. She folded her arms across her chest.

Jack reached into his back hip pocket as he started the ignition. He handed his ID to Amanda and looked at Brooke. “Get in.”

She didn’t want to, but she didn’t have any better ideas, so somehow Brooke made her feet move and she joined Carla in the backseat of the extended cab.

They arrived at the clinic three minutes later and Jack carried Amanda through the front doors and into the first exam room.

Carla got busy trying to reach Amanda’s husband but Brooke was right on Jack’s heels. This was her clinic and technically, like it or not, Amanda was her patient. She couldn’t just abandon the whole situation to a virtual stranger, even if he did have a medical degree.

“You have a monitor?” he asked.

“Right here.” She’d retrieved the machine on her way to the exam room.

“Get it on her,” he said shortly.

Brooke was already pressing buttons and readying the straps and monitor pads. She began placing the electrodes that would read the baby’s heart rate and monitor Amanda’s blood pressure and any contractions.

“Once I see the baby’s numbers, I’m going to have you change into a gown so I can check you for fractures, abrasions and so on,” Jack said to Amanda.

“I’m fine.”

“I insist.” He said it firmly and finally Amanda nodded.

Before he could say another word, Brooke placed a clear plastic mask over Amanda’s nose and mouth and started a gentle flow of oxygen. It was routine. The reducing-Amanda’s-ability-to-talk effect was just a bonus.

Brooke crossed the room as Carla came in. “The helicopter’s going to be delayed because of the cloud cover. As soon as it’s safe, they’ll call.”

Brooke took the chart from her as Carla told Amanda, “Your husband is in Amarillo. He’s wondering if he should just stay and meet you there.”

Amanda nodded.

“I’m sure Diane is on her way down here. Why don’t you meet her out front and keep her occupied until we finish the examination?” Brooke suggested, flipping the chart open and making notations. Diane, Amanda’s mother, was high-strung in the best of circumstances. In this case, she would be distracting and would only add to the already elevated tension. “Then she can go with Amanda on the trip to Amarillo.”

Carla agreed and headed for the front.

There were a few moments of silence in the room, but for the gentle beeping of the monitor. Brooke tried her best to ignore Jack, who seemed to be watching every move she made.

Finally his voice broke the relative quiet. “Can I take a look?”

She glanced up at him from the chart she was still writing in. When she realized he was talking to her she asked, “At what?”

“The chart.”

“I’ve got it covered.” She wanted to put him in his place. But she wasn’t sure what that place was. He was a physician. She was a physician’s assistant. But this was her clinic. He was a visitor. All she knew for certain was that he was taking over and making her look bad.

“Blood pressure readings?” His voice was laced with impatience.

“One fifty over ninety-six,” she recited.

She caught his frown and knew that it wasn’t for her. He didn’t like that high of a number for Amanda and the baby.

“What has she been running?” he asked, evidently forgetting for the moment that he was irritated with Brooke.

She paused and glanced at Amanda who had her eyes closed, her hands protectively cupping her stomach. “I, um…I don’t know. She’s followed by an obstetrician in Amarillo.” Brooke didn’t add that for her first pregnancy Amanda had happily seen the local doctor. Because the local doctor wasn’t Brooke.

Thankfully, Carla came back. “Diane is here. Doris and Helen came along and are keeping her distracted. They were getting their hair done together.”

Suddenly the monitor beside the bed began beeping. They stepped toward the display at the same time. Amanda was contracting.

“Amanda, I need you to breathe deep and slow,” Jack said.

She opened her eyes and looked at him.

He kept his voice and tone steady and calm. “You’re having a few contractions. They’re not very strong and are far apart right now, but I want to do a brief internal exam. Your water is still intact, but I want to be sure you don’t have any tears or bleeding and that you’re not dilating.”

Amanda didn’t look pleased with the suggestion. She pulled the oxygen mask to one side. “Can’t I just go to Amarillo now?”

“No,” he answered resolutely. “We need to be sure you and the baby are stable first. We’ll move you as soon as it’s safe. Would you be more comfortable if Brooke did the exam?”

“Why in the hell would I want her to do it?” Amanda asked sharply.

Jack’s eyebrows rose and Brooke’s cheeks flushed.

“Because she’s a woman. And you know her.”

“She’s not touching me,” Amanda declared, her voice rising…along with her blood pressure.

The monitor signaled as much and Brooke and Jack both looked toward the monitor, then at each other.

“You will not touch me!” Amanda snapped at Brooke, seemingly oblivious to the monitors and their meaning. “I know you would love the chance to hurt me and this baby.”

Brooke was as shocked as Jack looked.

“Amanda,” she gasped. “I would never hurt you or your baby. I’m a professional. Our personal past has nothing to do with—”

“No,” Amanda interrupted. “Mike always loved me. You knew it. When you moved back to Honey Creek you knew it was only a matter of time before he came to me.”

Brooke didn’t know what to say to that. For one, it was ridiculous. Not just because Amanda was one of the reasons Mike had agreed to marry Brooke. But also because, Amanda was even less his type than Brooke had been. They were both women, but Amanda was also a bitch.

Brooke frowned. “I don’t really think—” The monitor’s beeping intensified and she stopped.

“Well, this is not your chance for revenge,” Amanda vowed, her voice low and menacing, but still clear in spite of the frenzied beeping of the monitors. “Stay away from me.”

Brooke sighed. Now she was just getting mad. “You—”

“Brooke,” Jack interrupted, coming toward her. “Can I see you outside?” He didn’t wait for an answer but took her arm firmly and steered her out of the room.

“Carla!” he bellowed.

“Yeah?” the nurse called from the end of the hall.

“Go in and monitor Amanda,” he said in a clipped tone.

“Sure thing.” Carla hurried past with wide eyes. But she didn’t dare say a word.

Once the door was shut behind Carla, Jack turned to Brooke and spoke gently, but firmly. “I want you in there and I know you want to help, but you saw how she reacted. I can’t risk getting her so worked up. She’s at least two weeks short of being safe to deliver.”

Brooke looked at him for three long seconds, feeling equally stunned and irritated. “You can’t honestly believe that I would let my personal feelings get in the way of patient care.”

He cocked his head toward the exam room door. The monitor’s beeping had quieted some. “Let me guess,” he said. “Amanda was Homecoming Queen, right?”

“And Prom Queen.” Brooke propped a hand on her hip.

“And you were…”

She wanted to ask him if he meant before Dixie Donovan’s big unveiling or after. Before she was blamed for her mother’s sins and extravagance or after. Before Mike decided that she was the solution to all his problems—and worth a monthly paycheck for four years—or after they discovered their perfect plan was flawed.

Either way she was…

“Not the Homecoming Queen,” she finally said impassively.

“Okay.” Jack held his hand up. “There’s obviously a history between you two. I want you to know that my decision to ask you to leave is not about your professional abilities. This is purely about Amanda’s reaction. My first concern at this moment has to be her and that baby.”

He was absolutely right. But this was Honey Creek and it was always personal here. “I—”

“Jack!” Carla’s voice reached them through the door. “I need you in here!”

“Damn.” He muttered. He pinned Brooke with a hard look. “We need to talk later.” He twisted the doorknob and pushed the door partway open.

“I can—” she started.

“Brooke,” he interrupted as he stepped through the doorway into Amanda’s room. “I’m sorry, but you just can’t be in here.”

The door shut behind him. She stared at the oak grain thinking how appropriate it was. She was always on the outside in Honey Creek.

Though the same was clearly not true for Jack Silver.

Her shoes hit the pavement with a steady
whop
,
whop
,
whop
, and Brooke tried to lose herself in the rhythmic sound, the feel of the damp, cool air on her face and the burning fatigue of her muscles. It was dark and she knew it was supposed to rain again, but she hadn’t been able to stay inside any longer. She’d tried to lose herself in her medical journals, then television and finally a favorite romance novel. Nothing worked. Her thoughts kept returning to the clinic where Jack Silver, virtual stranger, had become a hero and she’d been once more banished to the outside. So, if she couldn’t escape her thoughts, at least her emotions would drive her through a good workout.

After about an hour, Amanda’s contractions were under control, her blood pressure was steady, if a bit high, and her other vitals were good. The weather had cleared enough that the helicopter could make the trip and Amanda and her still-unborn child were airlifted to Amarillo Memorial. They were both in good condition and Amanda was expected to go to full-term but remain on bed rest in the hospital. Which was perfect. There she could be waited on hand and foot much as she was everywhere else, but at least the hospital staff would get paid for it.