Welcome to the world of St Piran’s Hospital—

Next to the rugged shores of Penhally Bay lies the picturesque Cornish town of St Piran, where you’ll find a bustling hospital famed for the dedication, talent and passion of its staff—on and off the wards!

Under the warmth of the Cornish sun, Italian doctors, heart surgeons and playboy princes discover that romance blossoms in the most unlikely of places …

You’ll also meet the devilishly handsome Dr Josh O’Hara and the beautiful, fragile Megan Phillips … and discover the secret that tore these star-crossed lovers apart.

Turn the page to step into St Piran’s—where every drama has a dreamy doctor … and a happy ending.

Dear Reader

Having written SPANISH DOCTOR, PREGNANT MIDWIFE, based in Penhally Bay, I was delighted to be asked to contribute to the new series set in and around St Piran’s Hospital.

I was especially pleased to spend some time with the characters on the rugged coast of Cornwall, a part of the world I love, and which is very similar to the West Coast of Scotland where I live now.

This is the story of extreme sport fanatic Mac, who is a doctor with the Royal Cornwall Air Ambulance Service, and Abby, single mum and air ambulance paramedic.

When committed bachelor Mac meets Abby he is immediately attracted to her. Soon after he finds out that Abby has a secret that is about to turn his life upside down, and he learns that loving involves taking risks too.

I hope you enjoy reading Mac and Abby’s story, and would love to hear from you—my blog is on the eHarlequin website: www.eharlequin.com

Anne Fraser

ST PIRAN’S HOSPITAL Where every drama has a dreamy doctor… and a happy ending.

In December we gave you the first two St Piran’s stories in one month!

Nick Tremayne and Kate Althorp finally got their happy-ever-after in: ST PIRAN’S: THE WEDDING OF THE YEAR by Caroline Anderson

Dr Izzy Bailey was swept off her feet by sexy Spaniard Diego Ramirez: ST PIRAN’S: RESCUING PREGNANT CINDERELLA by Carol Marinelli

In January the arrival of sizzlingly hot Italian neurosurgeon Giovanni Corezzi was enough to make any woman forget the cold! ST PIRAN’S: ITALIAN SURGEON, FORBIDDEN BRIDE by Margaret McDonagh

This month daredevil doc William MacNeil unexpectedly discovers that he’s a father in: ST PIRAN’S: DAREDEVIL, DOCTOR … DAD! by Anne Fraser

The new heart surgeon has everyone’s pulses racing in March ST PIRAN’S: THE BROODING HEART SURGEON by Alison Roberts

Fireman Tom Nicholson steals Flora Loveday’s heart in April ST PIRAN’S: THE FIREMAN AND NURSE LOVEDAY by Kate Hardy

Newborn twins could just bring a May marriage miracle for Brianna and Connor Taylor ST PIRAN’S: TINY MIRACLE TWINS by Maggie Kingsley

And playboy Prince Alessandro Cavalieri honours St Piran’s with a visit in June ST PIRAN’S: PRINCE ON THE CHILDREN’S WARD by Sarah Morgan

About the Author

ANNE FRASER was born in Scotland, but brought up in South Africa. After she left school she returned to the birthplace of her parents, the remote Western Islands of Scotland. She left there to train as a nurse, before going on to university to study English Literature. After the birth of her first child she and her doctor husband travelled the world, working in rural Africa, Australia and Northern Canada. Anne still works in the health sector. To relax, she enjoys spending time with her family, reading, walking and travelling.

Recent titles by the same author:

PRINCE CHARMING OF HARLEY STREET

RESCUED: MOTHER AND BABY

MIRACLE: MARRIAGE REUNITED

SPANISH DOCTOR, PREGNANT MIDWIFE*

* The Brides of Penhally Bay

ST PIRAN’S: DAREDEVIL, DOCTOR … DAD!

ANNE FRASER

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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CHAPTER ONE

ABBY sank onto the sofa transfixed by what was happening on the TV screen. At the end of a rope, a man was being lowered out of a Royal Navy helicopter. Abby held her breath as the figure swirled precariously in the buffeting wind. She had put on the TV to catch the weather report but now she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the drama unfolding in front of her.

Beneath the helicopter a boat was listing dangerously to one side, obviously in serious trouble. The reporter covering the story was telling the viewers that the Royal Navy rescue service had been called out to the stricken vessel. ‘The family of four were on a sailing trip when they got into trouble off the Cornish coast. Heavy seas pushed their boat onto rocks and it is now taking on water rapidly. We have heard that the helmsman took a heavy blow to his head and is unconscious. His wife, who radioed for help, and their two young children, are still on board.’

Although the newscaster’s expression was calm, Abby could detect suppressed tension in her voice. ‘The helicopter crew has only a short time to get everyone off before the boat sinks. We understand that there is a doctor helping from the Royal Cornwall Air Ambulance Service.’

The man at the end of the winch dropped onto the listing boat, unhooked himself from the line and slithered his way across the deck. Within minutes he was being lifted back on board the helicopter, with two small figures attached to him like clams.

He swiftly dropped down to the boat again, retrieving another person from the stricken yacht. Heart in her mouth, Abby leaned forward. The injured skipper was still on the boat! Could he be rescued before the yacht sank, taking him and his rescuer along with it? If he had a head injury, as the newscaster was suggesting, then it would be dangerous to move him. But what other option was there? To leave him would be unthinkable.

The downdraught from the helicopter whipped the sea into a frenzy. Nearby, a coastguard rescue boat was making valiant attempts to approach the yacht but the heavy waves were preventing it from getting anywhere close. Abby squeezed her eyes closed. She could hardly bear to watch.

‘A second man is being lowered onto the boat.’ The newscaster’s voice dropped to a whisper. ‘We understand he’s a doctor.’

Abby opened her eyes. Sure enough, she could just make out the letters on the fluorescent jacket of the second man.

The line attached to the helicopter was swinging wildly as the pilot struggled to keep the aircraft level. The small boat rose up to meet the man on the end of the winch then dropped away again. The figure swung first to the right then to the left as the deck kept veering away. Abby knew there was a real possibility that the rescuers might lose their own lives in the attempt to reach the injured skipper.

Suddenly the doctor was on the deck. Quickly he released himself from the harness and the line was reeled back into the helicopter.

Almost unable to breathe, Abby watched him pick his way across the slippery deck, almost losing his balance as the boat shifted wildly in the heavy seas. Moments later another man dropped down from the helicopter, this one with a stretcher. Abby lost sight of the first man as he disappeared from view. Had he slipped overboard?

While she’d been watching, Emma had come into the room. Seeing Abby staring at the screen, she unplugged herself from her MP3 player and sat down next to her.

‘Is that what you’re going to be doing?’ Emma asked. ‘In your new job?’

‘Sometimes,’ Abby admitted. Although she hoped to hell she wouldn’t be involved in anything quite as dangerous as what was going on in front of her. It was one thing being trained to be winched up and down from a helicopter in calm conditions—this was something altogether different.

Emma looked at her wide-eyed. ‘Cool,’ she said.

Thankfully her daughter didn’t seem to appreciate the danger the men were in. That was good: Abby didn’t want Emma worrying about her.

It seemed like hours but it could only have been a few minutes before the stretcher, now loaded with the injured skipper, was being attached to the winch. Abby knew the danger was far from over. The yacht was sinking rapidly. She was amazed that it had managed to stay afloat as long as it had.

Then the men with the stretcher were being lifted back onto the helicopter. As soon as they were on board the aircraft swung away. Seconds later the boat tipped up and with a final surge was engulfed by the waves. Any sooner and it would have taken the three men with it.

‘I understand the mother and two children have been taken to hospital where they are being treated for hypothermia and shock,’ the reporter continued. ‘At this time we have no details about the condition of the skipper except that he is stable. But right now we can give you a live interview with some of the men involved in the daring rescue.’

The drama over, Emma went back to her music and left the room. Before Abby could switch the television off, the camera panned out slightly, revealing two men. One, a man in his fifties, was wearing the jumpsuit of the Royal Navy, the other the fluorescent jacket of a rescue doctor. Both men were smiling broadly, as if what they had just done had been exhilarating—and no more dangerous than a routine training exercise.

But as the camera zoomed closer, it was the younger man, the doctor, that made Abby’s heart leap in her chest. Underneath his five-o’clock shadow there was something disturbingly familiar about his hooked nose and wide grin. But before Abby could get a better look at him the camera, frustratingly, focussed solely on his colleague.

‘I have Sergeant Lightbody with me, who was the winchman involved in the rescue,’ the reporter said.

The older man shifted slightly, looking uncomfortable to find himself on TV.

‘Sergeant Lightbody,’ the newscaster continued, ‘can you tell the viewers at home what it was like out there today? From what I could see, it seemed that you just managed to get the victims off the boat in the nick of time.’

Sergeant Lightbody looked even more ill at ease. ‘It was certainly a little breezy out there. I guess it was one of the more difficult situations we’ve been involved in for a while.’

‘A little breezy? A bit of an understatement, surely? If you and your men hadn’t been able to get these people off, it could’ve ended in tragedy. That all the family members survived is testament to the skill and courage of your team.’

‘It’s what we do.’ Sergeant Lightbody shrugged. ‘Anyway, if it hadn’t been for Dr MacNeil here, we might not have got the skipper off without further injury—if at all.’

The camera shifted to the younger man. He was shaking his head. Despite the hat pulled low on his brow, shadowing his eyes, Abby realised with a jolt that she did recognise him. She didn’t need to check the photograph she had kept for all these years to know that Dr MacNeil was Mac—her dead sister’s lover and Emma’s father!

Her legs shaking, Abby got up and retrieved the remote then froze the screen. She was breathing rapidly as she studied the fuzzy picture. It was him! He was older, yes; there were faint smile lines on either side of his mouth and radiating from the corners of his ice-blue eyes. He had filled out a little, and his hair was shorter, although still sun-bleached at the tips. Still, she would know that wide smile and glinting, expressive gaze anywhere.

She pressed the remote and the picture moved again.

‘Dr MacNeil, could you tell us what happened back there? I understand you work with the Royal Cornwall Air Ambulance team. Is this just another typical day for you?’

Abby’s heart was pounding so hard she could almost hear it. She had found Mac! And not just found him, she was actually going to be working with him. She sank back down on the sofa as her legs threatened to give way beneath her. Thank God Emma had left the room. She would have known immediately that something was wrong, and right now Abby needed to make sense of what she was seeing.

Mac grinned into the camera. Unlike Sergeant Lightbody, he seemed completely at ease. ‘Not exactly a typical day but, yes, the Royal Cornwall Air Ambulance teams up with other rescue services when required. We believe that having immediate medical attention on the scene can often make the difference between life and death.’

‘Even if it means putting your own life at risk?’ The stunning blonde reporter was almost whimpering with admiration.

‘I’m pretty certain the Royal Navy wouldn’t let anything happen to me,’ Mac replied lightly. ‘Besides, they are the real heroes. They do this sort of thing day after day. If it wasn’t for the pilot of the helicopter and his team, we would have never been able to get to the casualties.’

Abby still couldn’t believe what she was seeing. It was ironic, really. Abby had tried desperately to find this man years before without any success, and now he was here, in Penhally, and she’d be working with him!

Incredible to think that the reason they were here in the first place was because Emma didn’t have a father.

A few months ago, just before Emma’s eleventh birthday, Abby had asked her whether she wanted to invite her schoolfriends over for a party. To Abby’s horror, Emma had burst into tears. When she’d eventually managed to calm her down, Emma had admitted that the children at the school had been ostracising her for the last couple of weeks. Only her best friend had still talked to her.

‘But why, darling? Has something happened? You used to have loads of friends.’

Between tears and sobs of anguish Emma had explained that one of the girls had started taunting her about not having a dad.

‘I told them that of course I had a dad,’ Emma had said, indignant. ‘So they asked where he was. When I told them I didn’t know, they made fun of me. They said that I was lying or else I must be a rubbish daughter that my dad didn’t want to know me. I tried to ignore them but they kept coming after me, saying these horrible things.’ She’d looked up at Abby, her blue eyes swimming with tears. ‘I know you’re not my real mum, Mum.’ She’d smiled, realising what she’d said. ‘I mean, you’re my real mum, but not my birth mum. But you’ve never told me who my father is. Why doesn’t he care about me? Why hasn’t he ever come to see me?’

Abby’s heart had ached for her child. Although, as Emma had put it, she wasn’t her biological mother, Emma was hers in every way that counted. She couldn’t love her more had she given birth to her, and Emma being her twin sister Sara’s child simply made the bond closer.

‘I want to know who my dad is,’ Emma had continued quietly. ‘All the other girls at school know who their dad is, so why can’t I?’

Abby had looked into the stormy blue eyes that were so like Sara’s and a lump had formed in her throat. She’d known only too well how Emma had felt.

‘My darling, he probably doesn’t even know you exist.’

‘How can he not know? How could my real mum not have told him?’

Abby winced before she’d begun speaking. ‘Sara was very happy you were going to be born. I guess she didn’t want to share you.’

The truth was that Sara hadn’t wanted Emma’s father to know about the pregnancy. At least not until she discovered that she was going to die. It was only then that she told Abby that Emma’s father was Mac, the windsurfing instructor they had met while on holiday in Mykonos. When Emma was just three months old Abby went back to the Greek island to try to track him down, but it was hopeless. The summer season was over, and the visitors as well as the instructors had long since packed up and left. No one could tell her anything about Mac. Who he was or where he’d gone.

Before Sara died, Abby promised she would raise her daughter as her own. She had kept that promise and even though it hadn’t always been easy, Abby had no regrets. Emma brought such joy to her life.

‘I don’t want to stay at that school, Mum. Please. Can’t I go to a different school when I go to secondary?’

‘It’s not that easy, sweetie. Here in London it’s difficult to find a good school within walking distance. Let me try and sort things out with the school first.’

But despite several visits to the school, the bullying continued. It both angered and saddened Abby to see Emma withdraw more and more into herself, so when Abby saw an ad for an experienced paramedic for the Royal Cornwall Air Ambulance Service, after talking it over with Emma, she decided to apply. Cornwall would be perfect for them. It was near the sea and would suit Emma’s love of the outdoors much better. They were both thrilled to leave London and its sad memories behind. Abby had promised Emma that as soon as they were settled in their new home and she in her job she would continue the search for her father. Little did Abby know then that fate was going to throw them directly in his path, sooner than either of them could possibly have imagined.

Abby retrieved the tattered holiday snap from the sideboard drawer. It had been taken on the last night of her and Sara’s holiday on Mykonos and Abby studied it for what must have been the hundredth time. It was a group photograph, taken on the beach. Mac had his arm draped around Sara, who was laughing up at him. She herself was at the end, a solemn figure with mid-length hair, her eyes hidden behind sunglasses. She doubted if Mac had even been aware that she was there. They had been introduced, of course, but his glance had slid almost immediately straight past Abby to her much more glamorous and fun-loving sister.

She turned to stare at the TV again, almost expecting him to reappear. She still had a week of training to complete before she started her job, so she had some time to think before she came face to face with Dr William MacNeil.

What was she going to tell Emma?

What was she going to say to Mac when they met?

What the hell was she going to do?

CHAPTER TWO

ABBY’S stomach fluttered nervously as she stepped into the base of the Royal Cornwall Air Ambulance Service. Although she had been a trained paramedic for almost twelve years, this would be an altogether different experience. She would be flying to rescues and despite the intensive training she had just undergone, she worried how she would cope with being lowered from a helicopter, particularly in gusty weather. But she was here now and those concerns paled into insignificance in comparison to her anxiety about meeting Mac again.

Ever since she’d seen him on television she’d been agonising over what to do. What if he was married and had a family of his own? What if Mac didn’t want to know about his daughter? That hurt would be too great for the little girl. In which case should she even tell Emma that Mac was here? Did she have the right to keep the truth from Emma?

In the end she decided she wouldn’t say anything to Emma until she’d had a chance to suss Mac out for herself. After all, a bad father was worse than no father at all.

The air ambulance leader, who had interviewed Abby when she’d applied for the job, met her at the door. Paul was in his early fifties with an easy smile and a relaxed and welcoming manner.

‘Abby, we’ve been looking forward to you joining us,’ he said. ‘Did you enjoy your training? The course leader spoke highly of you.’

The course leader might have spoken highly of her, but that meant zilch. How she would cope in a real-life rescue would be what counted.

‘What do think of Penhally Bay? ‘ Paul continued.

‘It’s lovely. I haven’t had too much time to explore yet—what with the course, getting my daughter settled into school and all the unpacking. But I promised Emma that on my first day off we’ll have a proper look around.’

‘It’s a great place for a child to grow up,’ Paul said ‘My kids have long since flown the coop, but they come back whenever they can. Is Emma liking Penhally High? Mine went there and they loved it. I can’t imagine it’s changed too much.’

Abby nodded, managing a small smile. If nothing else, their move here had been the right thing for Emma, at least as far as her new school went. Although her daughter had only been at Penhally High for a short while, she had quickly made new friends and already seemed much happier and settled.

So she was here to stay, and if life had thrown her a curve ball by flinging her directly in Mac’s path, so be it. There was no going back. But until she decided what, if anything, to tell him, she would play her cards close to her chest.

Nevertheless her heart was pounding uncomfortably at the thought of meeting him again. Would he recognise her after all these years? It was unlikely. Her appearance had changed quite a bit and he hadn’t paid her much attention twelve years ago. He had been far too caught up in her twin sister, the glamorous, effervescent Sara.

‘Come up to the office and meet everyone,’ Paul interrupted her thoughts. ‘They’re looking forward to meeting you.’

Her legs like jelly, Abby followed him up a steep flight of steps and into a large room where a number of people were chatting and drinking coffee.

Immediately her eyes were drawn to Mac. He was sitting, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his arms cradling the back of his head as he chatted to a colleague. Like most of the others in the room, he was dressed in an orange jumpsuit, but his was unzipped almost to the waist, revealing a dazzling white T-shirt underneath. There was no disguising his powerful build and Abby felt as if a bird were trapped in her chest.

‘Everyone, I’d like you to meet our latest recruit, Abby Stevens,’ Paul introduced her.

This was the moment she had been dreading. Would Mac remember her? Would he recall Sara’s last name? Had he even known what it was? Although everyone turned to look at her, Abby was unable to stop herself from watching Mac’s reaction. Blue eyes narrowed for a moment as if she had triggered a memory, but then he grinned and jumped to his feet. His eyes swept over her body.

‘I’m Dr William MacNeil. But everyone calls me Mac.’ His grip was firm and to her dismay it felt as if she had touched a live wire. Abby withdrew her hand quickly and turned to greet the other members of the team but not before she’d seen Mac’s puzzled frown.

Abby forced herself to concentrate as she was introduced to the others in the room. Apart from Paul, there were two paramedics, Mike and Jim, a pilot—an older man called Greg—as well as Lucy, another doctor, and Kirsten, whose job it was to take the calls and keep in touch with the ambulance throughout the rescue. They all smiled welcomingly.

Instinctively Abby knew she would enjoy working with this group of people—with one possible exception.

‘Would you mind showing Abby around, Mac?’ Paul asked. ‘I have some paperwork to attend to and Lucy and Mike have just popped in to give us a report on yesterday’s callout.’ Paul turned to Abby. ‘I’ll see you all later.’

‘A car accident on the coastal road,’ Lucy explained as Paul left the room. She was small and plump with bright, intelligent eyes. ‘The driver was going too fast for these roads and hit another car head on.’

‘Any fatalities? ‘ Abby asked.

‘Surprisingly not. Luckily the oncoming car managed to swerve in time. The fire brigade had to use the jaws of life to get the driver out. It took hours and we had to keep him ventilated by hand. He’s still on the critical list, but he’s damned lucky to be alive.’ Lucy glanced at her watch. ‘Time for me to go!’ She held out her hand again. ‘It’s good to have another woman on board, Abby. Kirsten and I get a little overwhelmed by all the testosterone around here, don’t we, Kirsten?’

Kirsten grinned back. ‘Don’t let Lucy kid you—she’s a match for the guys any time.’

Abby glanced across at Mac, who had remained silent throughout the exchange. He was studying Abby as if she puzzled him.

‘Hey, have we met before?’ he asked.

Abby’s pulse beat even faster. Although she and Sara hadn’t been identical twins there had been similarities between them—hazel eyes, straight noses and curvy mouths. But Sara had cropped her hair short and bleached it platinum blonde for their Greek holiday. In contrast, Abby had kept her shoulder length caramel hair tied back in a ponytail and at that time had worn glasses. The two sisters could hardly have looked more different and unsurprisingly Mac had barely glanced at Abby back then. Even if he did recognise her, this was hardly the time or place to tell him about Sara and Emma. Not that she had decided what to tell him.

She forced a smile. ‘I don’t think so.’

He lost the frown and grinned at her. ‘You’re right,’ he said, lowering his voice. ‘I would have remembered you. I don’t tend to forget beautiful women.’ He winked at her.

‘And unless you’re losing it, they don’t tend to forget you either. That’s what you mean,’ chipped in Lucy. She turned to Abby, her eyes twinkling. ‘Watch out for our Mac here. We love him to bits, but he’s a heart-breaker. Luckily I’m too old for him and Kirsten’s already taken.’

‘You know I’d take you to dinner any day of the week, Lucy. Just say the word.’ Mac grinned back.

‘Ah, if only,’ Lucy sighed theatrically. She picked up her handbag. ‘I’m out of here.’

‘Me too,’ Kirsten said. ‘I’ve got work to do around here!’

Left alone with Mac, Abby felt as if she had a coiled spring somewhere in her chest. He was still looking at her through half-closed eyes as if she puzzled him. ‘Dr MacNeil,’ she said stiffly. ‘I think we should get on with that tour, don’t you?’

Again there was that heart-stopping grin. ‘Call me Mac. Everyone else does.’

Mac stood back to let Abby go in front of him. He whistled under his breath as he watched the way her bottom swayed as she walked. On anyone else the orange uniform tunic top and matching trousers would have been unflattering, but it could have been tailor made for Abby. And, even apart from her figure which looked as if it had been designed with him in mind, she was a stunner. A man could drown in those eyes and as for the high cheekbones, emphasised by the hint of colour his remarks had brought to her cheeks, he had dated models who would scratch their eyes out for bone structure like that. Even the spattering of freckles over her nose didn’t detract from her beauty—if anything, it made her cuter. He had already checked the third finger of her left hand. No wedding ring. Good. This was going to be interesting.

Mac had only just started showing Abby the little office where Kirsten and her small team fielded the calls when the telephone rang.

Kirsten held up a finger, asking for silence. They listened as she entered a few details into the computer.

‘Try not to worry, love. We’ll have someone there as soon as possible. Stay on the phone while I talk to the doctor.’

She swivelled around in her chair until she was facing Abby and Mac.

‘I have a lady on the line. She’s thirty-four weeks pregnant but thinks she’s gone into early labour. She can’t get herself to the hospital because she’s on a farm and her husband is away with the car.’ Kirsten covered the mouthpiece with her hand. ‘She also tells me she has placenta praevia and was due to be admitted for a Caesarean section in a couple of weeks.’

‘Where is the farm?’ Mac asked. Gone was the laconic man of earlier. In his place was someone who was entirely focussed.

Kirsten pointed to a map. ‘Over here.’

‘What about the local road ambulance?’ Abby asked.

Kirsten shook her head. ‘It’s at least an hour away on these roads and, besides, the woman—she’s called Jenny Hargreaves—says the track to the farm is pretty impassable for anything except a four-by-four. We’ve had some heavy rain over the last fortnight.’

‘We need to get her to the maternity unit as fast as possible,’ Mac said. ‘Okay, Kirsten, get Greg to fire the ‘copter up and tell Jenny we’re on our way. Is there anyone with her who can help? A friend? A neighbour?’

Kirsten shook her head. ‘She’s on her own, apart from her nine-year-old son.’

‘Get him on the line and keep him there. Then phone St Piran’s and bring them up to speed. Could you make sure we have an incubator for the baby on board, too? C’mon, Abby. I guess you’re on. Let’s go and get kitted up.’

As Abby raced after him down the steps and into the cloakroom where their gear was kept, she ran through what she knew about placenta praevia. And what she did know didn’t make her feel any better.

‘Not good news, is it?’ she said as Mac passed her a jacket.

‘Tell me what you know about the condition.’

‘Placenta praevia is where the placenta is lying in front of the baby, blocking the birth canal. I know it can cause massive, even fatal bleeding if left untreated. If she’s already in labour, we don’t have much time.’ Although they had covered complications of childbirth in their training, until Sara it hadn’t crossed Abby’s mind that it could really happen. Now she knew better. Please, God, don’t let this first call end in disaster.

‘Do we have an obstetrician on call?’ she asked.

‘At St Piran’s. Kirsten will patch us through as soon as we’re airborne. There’s no time to wait, though.’ Mac stopped for a moment and rested his hands on her shoulders. He looked directly into her eyes. ‘Are you going to be okay?’ His look was calm, reassuring. Everything about him radiated confidence and Abby relaxed a little.

‘Sure.’ She kept her voice light. ‘All in a day’s work.’

They piled into the helicopter and lifted off, heading towards the coast.

‘ETA twenty minutes,’ Greg’s voice came over the radio. ‘It’s a bit breezy where we’re heading so it might get a little bumpy.’

‘Do you think we’ll be able to put down?’ Mac asked.

‘There’s a good-sized field behind the farmhouse, but I guess it depends on how soggy the ground is. We won’t know until we get there.’

Abby and Mac shared a look.

‘Have you ever done an emergency section before?’ Abby asked. If they couldn’t get mother and baby to hospital, it would be their only chance. But such a procedure would be tricky even for a qualified obstetrician in a fully equipped theatre. Her heart started pounding again. Confidence was one thing, but did Mac have the skill needed to back it up?

‘I have.’ He leaned across and flashed Abby another wicked grin. ‘But don’t worry, I have every intention of letting the obstetricians do it.’ He held up a finger and listened intently.

A quiet voice came over the radio. ‘Hello, Mac. Dr Gibson here. What do we have?’

‘A thirty-four-weeker with placenta praevia who has gone into early labour. Control has her son on the phone. Mum tells him she thinks her contractions are coming about five minutes apart. The mother’s name is Jenny Hargreaves. She tells us she was due to be delivered by section at St Piran’s so you should have her case notes there.’

There was a short silence. Abby guessed Dr Gibson was bringing up Jenny’s record on her computer screen.

‘I’ll make sure neonatal intensive care is standing by and that we have a theatre ready. How long d’you think before you’ll have her here for us?’

‘Another ten minutes until we land. If we can. Say another ten to examine our lady and get her loaded and twenty back. Do you think we’ll make it?’ Again there was that easy smile as if this was just another everyday callout.

‘If anyone can, you can,’ came back the reply. ‘But if she’s gone into active labour she could be bleeding massively and you may have to section her there and then. It won’t be easy.’

‘Hell, whoever said anything is easy in this job? But trust me.’ He turned and winked at Abby. ‘If I can get her to you without having to section her, I will.’ He flexed long fingers. ‘Been a long time since I did one of those.’

‘Good luck,’ Dr Gibson said calmly.

A short while later they reached the farm. To Abby’s relief the pilot had been able to find a spot to land. The helicopter rotors had barely slowed when Mac hefted the large medical bag over his shoulder.

‘Okay, we’re on. Remember to keep your head down.’ Abby took a deep breath, sent a silent prayer towards heaven, and followed him out of the helicopter.

Mac sprinted towards the farmhouse, carrying the medical case that weighed at least ten kilos as if it were nothing. Abby ran after him, doing her best to keep up.

A child with wide, frightened eyes was waiting for them by the doorway.

‘Please hurry, my mum is bleeding,’ the boy said.

This was the worst possible news. Jenny being in labour was one thing, but they had banked on having enough time to get her to hospital. If she had started bleeding it meant that the placenta was beginning to detach. As it did, the baby’s life support system became compromised and the life of the mother was in jeopardy. It would have been dangerous enough in hospital, but all Abby and Mac had was some morphine and basic equipment. It wasn’t good. Abby’s heart jumped to her throat.

Mac paused by the doorway and hunkered down so that he was at eye level with the boy. He placed a hand on the child’s shoulder.

‘What’s your name, son?’

‘Tim.’

‘It’s going to be all right, Tim, I promise. Now, if you could take us to your mum, we’ll look after her.’

Whatever Tim saw in Mac’s eyes seemed to reassure him. He nodded and led them inside the farmhouse and into a bedroom. On the bed, a woman lay writhing with pain. She was pale and her eyes were stretched wide with fear.

Abby and Mac rushed to her side.

‘Jenny, isn’t it?’ Mac said as he laid the medical case on the floor. ‘I’m Dr MacNeil and this is Abby Stevens. We’re going to do everything we can to look after you and your baby.’

Abby felt Jenny’s pulse.

‘Over one hundred and thready,’ she told Mac as she unwrapped the stethoscope from around her neck.

‘How long have you been bleeding? And when did the contractions start? ‘ Mac asked.

‘I just started bleeding a few minutes ago. The contractions started about an hour ago. I phoned the hospital and they said they would get an ambulance.’ Jenny reached out a hand and squeezed Abby’s fingers hard. ‘You have to save my baby. Please. You’ve got to help us.’

‘We are going to do everything possible,’ Abby replied with what she hoped was a confident smile.

She checked Jenny’s blood pressure. As expected, it was low. Jenny was already bleeding heavily.

‘I’m just going to give you some fluids through a needle in your vein,’ Mac explained as he swabbed a patch of skin near Jenny’s elbow. ‘Then we’re going to get you onto a stretcher and into the air ambulance, okay?’

‘What about Tim? I can’t leave him here by himself. My husband isn’t due back until tomorrow morning.’

‘Is there a neighbour we could call for you?’

Jenny shook her head. ‘We only moved here a couple of months ago. I don’t know anyone yet. I’ve been so busy getting ready for the new baby.’

‘In that case, Tim can come in the helicopter with us. How about it, Tim? ‘ Mac turned to the little boy who had remained by the door, taking everything in with wide eyes.

‘Wicked,’ he said. Now adults were taking control, the colour had returned to his face.

Mac finished setting up the drip.

‘Okay, Jenny. The helicopter’s just outside waiting to take you to hospital. We’re going to get you on board as quickly as we can.’

Jenny clutched her stomach as another contraction took hold. ‘Just get me to the hospital,’ she said through gritted teeth. Then she forced a smile and turned to her son. ‘Tim will help, won’t you, love? ‘

Tim’s terror had disappeared. Whether it was because they were there helping his mother or whether it was the excitement of the helicopter ride, Abby didn’t know or care. All that mattered was that the boy was calm. It would help Jenny and give them one less thing to worry about.

Abby draped a blanket round her patient before strapping her into the stretcher. As they carried her outside, Abby tried not to wince when a contraction gripped the mother and she squeezed Abby’s fingers with ferocious strength.

Please let her hang in there, Abby prayed silently. At least until they got her to hospital. She slid a glance at Mac. Nothing in his demeanour indicated that at any time they could be dealing with a life-and-death scenario. Was he really as calm as he appeared?

Inside the helicopter they attached Jenny to the onboard monitoring equipment and pumped fluids into her. Abby checked the fetal heartbeat again. So far so good.

As soon as they had Jenny settled and the helicopter was heading towards St Piran’s, Mac raised his thumb to Tim. Greg had given the boy a helmet and earmuffs to deaden the noise.

Tim returned the salute, unable to hide his excitement.

Abby slid a glance at Mac as he leaned over Jenny. He puzzled her. Everything about him contradicted the image of him she had held in her head for the last twelve years. Whenever she’d thought about him, she’d imagined an ageing Lothario chatting up young women on the beach under the pretext of teaching them how to windsurf, not this caring and utterly professional doctor.

Even if it was obvious from his behaviour when they’d met as well as Lucy’s comments that he still was a blatant flirt she liked the way he had taken the time to reassure Tim.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the helicopter touched down on the hospital landing pad. Abby breathed a deep sigh of relief. They had made it!

‘Stick close to me,’ Mac said to Tim after removing the young lad’s helmet.

The helicopter’s rotors hadn’t even stopped when the hospital staff were there to take charge of Jenny. The transfer was quick. Mac and Abby updated the hospital staff as they ran next to the trolley with Tim following closely behind.

‘Thanks, guys. We’ll take it from here,’ the doctor Mac had addressed as Dr Gibson said.

They watched as Jenny disappeared from view.

‘C’mon, Tim. Why don’t we get you a drink or something?’ Abby offered, knowing that now the excitement of the helicopter journey was over the boy would start fretting again. ‘And in the meantime we can try and get your dad on the phone and either me or Dr MacNeil here will speak to him. How does that sound?’

‘Sounds okay. When can I see Mum?’

‘Not for a little while,’ Abby said. ‘But while Dr MacNeil is speaking to your father, I’ll find somewhere where you can wait.’

Tim’s face crumpled. ‘I don’t want to stay on my own. I want my dad.’

Abby felt terrible for the little boy. If something happened to her, she’d hate for Emma to be left alone. But what could they do? They had to get back to the air ambulance base. There could be another call at any time.

But Mac seemed to have his own ideas. ‘Tell you what,’ he said. ‘When I speak to your dad, I’ll suggest you come back with Abby and me to the air ambulance headquarters. How about it? You could have a look around see all the stuff we use. We have some cool things we can do with our computers. I’ll let the staff here know where we are and as soon as they have any news about your mum they can let us know. What do you say?’

Tim’s face brightened. ‘Could I? No one will mind? I promise I won’t get in the way.’

Once more, Abby was pleasantly surprised. Mac could easily have left the child here. After all they had done their job and Tim wasn’t their responsibility. She really had underestimated him. Nothing about him made sense. Her head was beginning to ache. Right now she would have given anything for some time on her own to think, but she had promised Tim a drink while they waited for Mac to speak to his father and do the handover.

Spotting a vending machine against the wall inside the A & E department, Abby scrabbled in her pocket for some change and fed it into the slot. To no avail—the wretched machine stubbornly refused to part with its goods. Banging with the flat of her hand against the side had no effect either.

‘Here, let me help.’ A woman who looked as if she had stepped out of a magazine came across. She fiddled with the machine and a can rolled out.

‘It just takes a certain knack.’ She held out a manicured hand. ‘You must be new. I’m Rebecca O’Hara, my husband Josh is one of the A & E consultants.’

‘Abby Stevens. First day with the Air Ambulance Service.’

‘Pleased to meet you, Abby. Where are you from? I can tell by your accent that you’re not from here.’

‘I’ve been living in London for the last few years.’

‘London?’ Rebecca looked wistful. ‘Don’t you miss it?’

‘I love it here,’ Abby said honestly. She glanced across the room to where an anxious Tim was waiting for her. Although she had the distinct impression Rebecca wanted to chat, Abby didn’t like to leave the boy any longer than she had to.

Just then Mac appeared. ‘Oh, hello, Rebecca.’ He smiled. ‘If you’re waiting to see Josh, I’m afraid he’s up to his neck with patients at the moment.’

Rebecca looked dejected. ‘I’ll have a cup of coffee with the nurses while I’m waiting.’

She turned back to Abby. ‘Lovely to meet you. Perhaps we could have a coffee some time?’ And then with a flutter of slim fingers she headed towards the staffroom.

Back at base, no one seemed particularly surprised to see Tim. Mac gave him the promised tour after which he settled Tim in front of the computers and started explaining how the system worked.

A little while later, Dr Gibson phoned to say that they had sectioned Jenny and although she had lost a great deal of blood, she and her new baby son were going to be fine. Tim was ecstatic about having a brother, but as it was going to be a couple of hours before Jenny would come around properly from the anaesthetic, they decided to keep him with them a bit longer. Tim’s father was on his way to the hospital.

‘I’ll drop Tim back at the hospital later,’ Mac said to Abby. ‘I’m due to do some teaching there this afternoon.’

Abby raised an eyebrow.

‘I keep my hand in at the hospital when we’re not busy. It helps keep me up to date and it only takes me a couple of minutes to get back here if we get a callout.’ He smiled. ‘You don’t fancy a drink later, by any chance? I can tell you all about Penhally.’ His expression was teasing, his eyes glinting.

Abby was horrified to feel a tingle run down her spine. Damn it! Why did she have to find him so damn sexy? Even sexier and better looking than twelve years ago. And the fact that he had a caring side made him all the more attractive. What was she thinking? There was no way she could be attracted to her dead sister’s ex-lover; it was too weird. What was more, she had to remember that Mac was the type of man for whom flirting was as natural as breathing. It didn’t mean anything. Wasn’t the way he’d treated Sara evidence of that?

He was looking at her, waiting for her reply, certain she would say yes. He was so supremely confident she would love to turn him down. And she would have, if it wasn’t for Emma. Her antennae, honed by years of being let down by men just like him, were on red alert. Of all the men in all the world, why did she have to be working with him?

Despite every nerve cell in her brain telling her to keep her distance from this man, for her daughter’s sake, she needed to learn more about him. Emma was going to a friend’s after school and wouldn’t be home until seven. Abby made up her mind.

‘I’ll tell you what,’ she said. ‘I like to go for a walk after work. You can join me if you want.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s up to you.’ Smiling to herself as she saw the look of surprise in his eyes, she whirled on her heel, ignoring the feeling that two blue eyes were watching her speculatively.

Mac watched Abby’s retreating back until she was out of sight. He would have bet a hundred bucks she had been about to turn him down, and her acceptance had taken him by surprise. Not that a walk was what he had in mind and not that he would have let one refusal put him off. In fact, it would have heightened the excitement of the chase. He tried to ignore the unpleasant feeling lurking somewhere deep down that felt uncomfortably like shame. Should he really be going after Abby? Although she intrigued and excited him, there was a certain wariness about her that suggested she had been hurt before, perhaps badly. And then there was the odd way she had kept looking at him during the callout. For someone as experienced as she was supposed to be there was an edginess about her that, while not quite alarming him, concerned him a little.

There was something else about Abby that was niggling him. He could have sworn he had met her before, but he had to be mistaken. He might have been with a lot of women in his life, but he would never have forgotten someone like her.

What was her story anyway? Not that it really mattered. He liked women, enjoyed their company and had a lot of respect for them, but he had no intention of having a long-term relationship with one. Once they made demands on him, he couldn’t help but lose interest. But he was getting way ahead of himself. This was simply a walk with a colleague, albeit a beautiful one. What was the harm in that? Nevertheless, however much he tried to dismiss the feeling of unease, he couldn’t quite shake it. A sixth sense he had relied on all his life was telling him that something extraordinary had arrived in the form of Abby Stevens and he wasn’t sure he liked the feeling one little bit.