One Life Changing Moment Page 2

  ‘I’ll go and get the medical supplies.’ His words were soft and gentle near her ear and he slowly eased her from his strong hold. He looked into her eyes, the fading light still allowing her to see his sincerity. ‘I won’t be long.’ He tenderly placed her head against the tree. ‘Just rest and relax. I’ll be back before you know it.’ His smile was warm and encouraging and filled with a promise she somehow knew he wouldn’t break.

  ‘OK.’ Mackenzie breathed, accepting the smile he aimed in her direction. Through drowsy eyes she watched him walk away from her, instantly wishing him back. At some point he’d become her strength and right now, given her present predicament, she knew she needed to rely on his borrowed strength to see her through.

  She had no idea who John was, whether he was married with a family of his own. She knew he was a doctor with a brilliant bedside manner and a gorgeous smile. In such a short space of time she’d not only come to rely on him, she’d come to trust him.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘RIGHT. I THINK we’re ready to begin.’ Mackenzie walked into the operating room, gowned and gloved and ready for the next patient. ‘We have Mrs Neve Windslow, who requires an open reduction and internal fixation of her left tibia.’ She glanced around the operating room at the staff. ‘I know it’s been a long night in Theatre and you’re all tired but this is the last patient on the list so focus, people. Let’s get the job done.’

  It was quite common when there was a multiple pile-up on the motorway for all of Sunshine General Hospital’s five emergency theatres to be going all night and all day. Mackenzie had been rostered on-call this evening and now, as the clock ticked around to five o’clock in the morning, they were thankfully in the final stages of applying the external fixator to Mrs Windslow’s shin bone.

  Mackenzie could feel the ache in her shoulders, the one she’d spent the better part of her shift ignoring, begin to make itself known. Soon. Soon she would be finished then she could check on her patients and go and collect her daughter. Ruthie’s cuddles always managed to ease the pressure of Mackenzie’s hectic work schedule.

  There were several people in Theatre, some she knew and worked with on a regular basis and some she’d never seen before, given the hectic emergency operating schedule. Even though everyone was gowned, gloved and wearing theatre masks and shields, she knew who most of the regular staff were simply by looking at their eyes.

  Theatre sister Anna had very light blue eyes; the anaesthetist, Pavlov, had green with a swirl of yellow; her orthopaedic registrar, Sonny, had dark brown eyes that sometimes looked almost black. Right now, though, it didn’t matter who was handing her instruments or who was swabbing the patient’s leg or who was assisting her to attach the final part of the metal fixator because once the job was done, they’d all be able to finally go home.

  ‘Excuse me,’ the scout nurse said, phone in her hand. ‘I have a message for Sonny.’ She looked at the orthopaedic registrar, who was concentrating on tightening the metal screw into place.

  ‘Can you take a message?’ Mackenzie asked.

  ‘Uh…it’s his wife. She’s just been admitted to the maternity ward. Her labour is progressing rapidly.’

  ‘What?’ Sonny almost dropped the screwdriver. Mackenzie reached over and took it out of his hand, passing it to Anna.

  ‘Go,’ she stated.

  ‘But we’re almost done here and—’

  ‘You’re about to become a father and, believe me, you won’t want to miss a second of the whole event.’

  Images of Ruthie’s entrance into the world flashed through her mind. It had been the worst night of Mackenzie’s life, except for John Watson. Her knight in shining armour. John had been the one to deliver Ruthie and also the one to inform her of Warick’s death. One life lost, one life gained.

  She gave herself a mental shake. After Bergan had arrived at the Sydney children’s hospital to support her, John Watson had gone back to where he’d come from. She hadn’t heard from him again in five years and while at times she’d wondered what might have happened to him, no one really wanted to be reminded of the worst night of their life, especially not her. She was a survivor and, as such, she’d locked that night up tight and pushed it into the ‘Do not open’ section of her mind.

  ‘We’ll be fine here,’ Mackenzie stated, her words coming out more briskly than she’d intended. She glanced at Sonny and saw he was still in two minds whether or not to go. ‘Go…Sonny. Oh, and don’t forget to text me. I want to know all the details.’

  Several other people agreed as Sonny headed out of the theatre; others called their best wishes.

  Mackenzie sighed and looked down at Mrs Windslow’s leg. So close to finishing and one step closer to having Ruthie’s little arms about her neck, hugging her close. The world kept on turning. With that sobering thought she snapped her mind back into theatre mode and glanced quickly around the room.

  ‘Right. Can someone please come and hold this last section of the fixator so I can screw it into place?’

  ‘I’ll help,’ a deep, rich voice replied, and a shiver shimmied its way down Mackenzie’s spine. It sounded very like a voice she’d heard before. A voice she knew she’d never forget, but it couldn’t possibly be…

  Her mouth went dry and her entire body froze, a wave of confusion and piercing pain washing over her as she ever so slowly raised her gaze to the person now standing opposite her. A gowned and gloved figure with hypnotic blue eyes shielded by the surgical mask.

  ‘Mackenzie?’ Anna asked, holding the screwdriver out towards her.

  Mackenzie didn’t hear anything, the vague sounds of the operating theatre fading into oblivion as she continued to stare into those bluest of blue eyes. They were eyes she would never forget. The smell of dried leaves, of sweat, of pain and of petrol filled her nostrils as a barrage of images flooded her mind, the images she could have sworn she’d locked safely away.

  Arguing with Warick. Asking him to slow down. Her hand on the dashboard of the car as she adjusted the seat belt around her pregnant belly. The sickening sound of crushed metal. The sight of Warick’s body bruised and bloodied, almost melded into the car. The pain in her abdomen. The tightening. The rush of nausea forcing her fumbling hands to unbuckle the belt, to open the door, to escape the confines of the car. The realisation she was in labour. That she would give birth. That she’d be all alone…again.

  ‘Mackenzie?’ Anna called, but her voice sounded muffled and far away. Mackenzie tried to swallow but found her mouth dry as she stared into the eyes of the man standing across the operating table.

  ‘John?’ The whispered word was wrenched from her dry throat. One terrible memory after another began swamping her mind and she felt her knees start to buckle, her head pounding with repressed anguish.

  She reached out blindly towards someone near her but missed, unable to focus clearly. The last thing she remembered was falling forward and hearing a deep voice call out, ‘Catch her,’ before darkness overcame her.

  *

  With one last, almighty push, combined with another guttural yell, Mackenzie collapsed back against the ambulance stretcher and waited.

  ‘It’s a girl,’ John announced as he and the paramedic set about suctioning out the baby’s lungs, rubbing her vigorously, doing anything and everything they could to keep the tiny little girl alive until they reached the hospital. John had been hoping amongst hope that Mackenzie would be able to wait but her impatient daughter had clearly had other ideas. ‘How far are we?’ he asked.

  ‘Approximately two minutes out,’ the paramedic replied.

  ‘Tell me what’s going on,’ Mackenzie demanded. ‘I want to know.’

  The paramedic met John’s gaze and softly shook his head but even though John had only known Mackenzie for such a short space of time, he’d already realised she was a strong woman. Plus, as she was a doctor, he knew her mind was no doubt racing with different scenarios and the best way to stop her wondering was to do as she’d asked.

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bsp; ‘We’re trying to get her breathing. Initial Apgar is four. She’s small but complete.’ John continued to use the suction to remove the mucus from the baby’s mouth and nose. ‘Organise oxygen saturations via non-rebreather child mask.’ John had wrapped the baby in a towel and was gently rubbing her skin to stimulate circulation while he hooked a stethoscope into his ears. He listened to her breathing.

  ‘Lungs have fluid. There’s a heart murmur.’ He lifted his head and stared at the paramedic. ‘You’ve radioed for a humidi-crib and paediatric consul—’

  ‘Greg’s responded. He’s waiting for us.’

  ‘Excellent.’

  ‘Who’s Greg?’

  ‘Paediatric consultant. We used to work together at Sydney’s children’s hospital years ago. He’s very qualified and very good.’ John hoped his tone was reassuring because from the look of Mackenzie’s little girl she was going to need every ounce of Greg’s expertise.

  The ambulance began to slow down as the driver navigated the vehicle into the hospital grounds. Within the next moment, the two external doors were opened and Mackenzie’s sick little girl was handed off to people she’d never met before.

  ‘John? John?’ Mackenzie called. ‘What’s happening?’

  He was back by her side, pulling off his gloves and putting them into the rubbish bin. ‘She’s with Greg and his team. They’re putting her into the humidi-crib. Come on, let’s get you out of this confined space and off to the maternity ward.’

  ‘I’m fine. I can walk,’ she said, and tried to get off the bed.

  ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ John demanded, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. ‘I may be an orthopaedic surgeon who’s not used to delivering babies but I do know that you should lie there and not be so stubborn.’ He looked into her eyes, holding her gaze. ‘I’ll wheel you to Maternity myself and I’ll help you in any way I can.’

  John’s tone held the promise of his words and Mackenzie knew he meant it. She reached for his hand, which he immediately offered, and with a gentle, reassuring squeeze she felt her immediate panic and fear begin to subside. She rested back against the stretcher and closed her eyes.

  ‘We’re good to go,’ she heard him tell the paramedic and, true to his word, all too soon she was up in the maternity suite. John gathered intel on her daughter’s condition while the nurses helped her to have a quick shower, her lovely blue dress which Warick had bought her during the first year of their marriage now ruined. Afterwards, dressed in a hospital gown, she allowed the nurses to take her observations, pleased with her results.

  She was about to get out of bed again and go and see what was happening with her baby girl when John walked back into her room.

  ‘Well?’

  ‘She’s breathing but she’s not doing too well.’

  ‘Can I see her?’

  ‘Absolutely.’ He came round to the side of the bed, picking up the hospital robe and holding it out to her. ‘Have you thought about any names?’

  ‘Yes, but Warick and I couldn’t agree.’

  ‘Which names did you like?’

  ‘I liked Ruthie for a girl. I once had a foster-sister called Ruthie but Warick didn’t like it.’

  ‘Did you know you were having a girl?’

  ‘No. I wanted to keep the gender of the baby a surprise. Warick was determined it would be a boy and so he picked only boys’ names.’ Although she wanted to rush, Mackenzie forced herself to take her time, having been astounded at how exhausted she’d felt after just having a shower. ‘Is there any news on—?’

  ‘I haven’t heard but I will tell you the instant I do.’ Again, there was that deep promise in his tone, as though he would never try to hide anything from her. He held out his hand. ‘Let’s go and see your daughter.’

  As they walked down the corridor to the nursery, Mackenzie held firmly to John’s hand. ‘Is it bad?’

  ‘Greg’s recommending surgery. The hole in her heart isn’t showing signs of closing.’

  Mackenzie processed this information. ‘She’ll need to be transferred.’

  ‘Greg’s on the phone to Sydney children’s hospital right now.’

  ‘I’m going with her.’

  ‘Of course.’

  She looked up at him as they continued their slow but steady progress to the nursery. ‘You won’t try and stop me?’

  ‘Your observations are fine. You’re a doctor. You know the protocols but, above all, she’s your daughter.’ His blue eyes pierced her own. ‘You need to be with her.’

  Before this night was out Mackenzie ran the risk of losing not only her husband but possibly her daughter as well. John’s heart ached for her. He knew exactly how she must be feeling and he wanted to do everything he could to help her through this.

  ‘But Warick?’

  ‘As I said, we’ll be kept informed.’

  ‘We?’ She’d stopped just outside the nursery and stared into his eyes. ‘Are you planning to come to Sydney with me?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Mackenzie’s lower lip began to wobble. ‘Then things are really bad for my baby.’

  ‘They’re not good, Mackenzie.’

  ‘And you…you’ll just…help me? No questions asked? You’ll just…help?’ Her voice was choking over with emotion and tears were beginning to gather behind her eyes. ‘Just like that?’

  John took both of her hands in his and gave them a little squeeze. ‘Sometimes, Mackenzie, strangers are thrown together in difficult situations for no other reason than to offer comfort and support. I know what you’re feeling.’ He looked at their joined hands for a second before meeting her eyes once more.

  ‘Oh, John.’ Mackenzie blinked, unable to stop the tears from sliding down her cheeks. She was far too emotional, filled with all sorts of maternal hormones as well as intense worry and concern for both Warick and her baby.

  ‘I’ll help you through this, Mackenzie. You can rely on me.’ Although his words were soft, she could hear the gruff determination shining through. ‘Now, let’s go see your beautiful Ruthie.’ With that, he gave her hands another little squeeze before they turned and entered the nursery.

  *

  ‘Mackenzie?’

  ‘John?’ she called weakly.

  ‘I’m here. It’s OK.’ His British tones came softly near her ear and Mackenzie started to relax a little. ‘You’re OK,’ he reiterated and she managed to breathe out slowly. His voice was so close, so vibrant and so real. She’d often thought about his lovely voice over the years, of the way he’d been her rock in her most desperate time of trouble and how she’d never really had the opportunity to thank him properly.

  ‘John?’ she murmured again, as thoughts and images flooded her mind. Where was she? What was happening? She strained hard to think. She wasn’t leaning against a tree, gritting her teeth against contractions.

  She wasn’t in hospital as a patient, she was in hospital as a doctor. She was a trained orthopaedic surgeon at Sunshine General Hospital in Queensland and she’d been operating in Theatre all night long. She’d been almost finished with her final patient, Mrs Windslow, and then…and then Sonny had been called away and…and…she’d looked across the table and…

  Mackenzie’s heart pounded against her ribs and her eyes snapped open. She sat bolt upright, almost head-butting John in the process. ‘John?’ His name was a disbelieving whisper, her eyes as wide as saucers.

  ‘Hello.’ He was crouched on one knee beside her, smiling brightly.

  ‘Wh-what happened? Where am I?’ She looked around, realising she was in the anteroom outside the operating theatre, lying on the floor. She was still dressed in her bloodied theatre gown, although someone had removed her gloves, shield and mask.

  ‘You fainted,’ he supplied, answering her first question.

  ‘Why…? How…? Why are you here?’ She continued to stare at him as he stood up and stepped back. Anna bustled into the area and quickly knelt down beside Mackenzie.

  ‘I was so worried. W
hat on earth happened? I’ve never known you to faint before. You’re not pregnant again, are you?’ Anna chattered like a mother hen caring for one of her chicks as she untied Mackenzie’s theatre gown.

  At the word ‘pregnant’, she glanced at John and saw him raise an eyebrow. She ignored Anna’s questions. ‘The patient? Mrs Windslow?’

  ‘I finished the surgery,’ John remarked. ‘She’s off in Recovery and doing fine.’

  ‘How long was I out?’ Mackenzie asked as she started scrambling to her feet, her theatre gumboots not giving her the traction she needed in order to stand. John instantly placed a hand beneath her elbow to assist her, causing warmth and a plethora of tingles to shoot right through her entire body at the simple touch.

  As soon as she was upright, she jerked away from him, doing her best to ignore the increased pounding of her heart against her chest. One brief touch from him and she was a mass of nerves and excitement. Why? Was it embarrassment? The uncertainty of how to behave around the man who had seen her through her darkest hours? Who’d witnessed all the vulnerabilities she’d spent a lifetime learning to hide from others?

  ‘About fifteen minutes,’ Anna fussed. ‘Not like you at all but, then again, it has been rather an arduous night and no doubt you’ve probably not eaten much.’ The theatre nurse tsked, as she continued to help Mackenzie completely degown, removing the big rubber boots from her feet and offering the clogs that Mackenzie had left in the anteroom so many long hours ago.

  ‘I think a cup of tea’s in order,’ John remarked. ‘Very British, I know, but we do believe that a nice cup of tea can set things to rights again.’

  ‘Nice sweet tea,’ Anna said approvingly as she stared at Mackenzie with concern. ‘She does still look a bit peaky. Yes, take her away to the cafeteria and get some sugar into her, Dr er… What did you say your name was?’

  ‘Watson,’ he supplied, unable to drag his gaze away from Mackenzie. She was clearly confused as to his presence and he was silently berating himself for not announcing his presence properly when he’d entered her theatre, but, then again, he hadn’t expected her to faint. She was the strongest woman he’d ever known and so the possibility of her passing out hadn’t even entered his thoughts.