Safe in His Hands. Amy Ruttan

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      “He seems like a nice fellow, I hope he makes you happy.”

      Charlotte did a double take. Quinn thought she was with George and, despite the fact they’d once been intimate, was wishing her happiness. So unlike the selfish man he’d been when he was younger.

      “Quinn, George is like a brother to me.” Again, why was she telling him that? She should’ve let him think George was her lover, and then she shuddered at the thought. She’d babysat George at one time and he’d been a terror. “Besides, George is too weird, too into his Westerns. I think that if given the chance, he’d trade in his paramedic bag for a saddle and six-shooter.” She said the last part loudly.

      “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Clint Eastwood is da man!”

      George called back.

      A look of pleasure flashed momentarily across his face. “Well, that makes for a good partnership between physician and paramedic.”

      “Doc Charley!” The frantic call made both Charlotte and Quinn spin around. Charlotte saw Lorna, the village midwife, come running into the hangar.

      Charlotte didn’t need to be told. Her instinct kicked in and she grabbed her medical bag from the top of the pile of supplies. “What’s happened? Is it Mentlana?”

      Lorna nodded. “She started bleeding, and I don’t know if it’s from the fetus, the placenta or something else.”

      Oh, God, no.

      Charlotte remembered the way she herself had almost bled to death when she’d lost her baby. Sweat broke out across her brow. Charlotte glanced at Quinn, who was standing close to her. His lips were pressed together in a firm line and he looked a little pale as he nodded his understanding, obviously ready to follow her lead.

      “Where is she?” Charlotte asked.

      “The clinic.” Lorna was wringing her hands nervously.

      “Thanks, Lorna.” Charlotte started running, praying she wasn’t too late.

      “Is everything okay, Charley?” Mentlana’s voice was anxious as Charlotte peeled off the rubber gloves and placed them in the toxic medical waste receptacle.

      “Your cervix is irritated, that’s all.” Charlotte had been relieved on her arrival to see the blood loss was minimal, but enough to worry Lorna. Given all the things wrong with Mentlana and her high-risk pregnancy, Lorna had reacted quickly and done the right thing.

      “Well, yours would be irritated, too, if you were carrying around an elephant.”

      Charlotte chuckled. “I’m going to have Dr. Devlyn, the specialist from Toronto, perform an ultrasound to make sure there’s nothing wrong with the placenta or the baby. But the heartbeat is strong, and from the internal, the placenta is still in place. If it had been an abruption there would’ve been a lot more blood.”

      And death. Charlotte kept that thought to herself. There was no sense in worrying the pregnant woman over nothing.

      Mentlana visibly relaxed as she took her feet out of the stirrups and rearranged the sheet over her lower half. Charlotte ran her hands under the tap and scrubbed them thoroughly.

      “Do you want me to get Genen? He’s probably climbing the walls.”

      “Let him wait for a moment. I want to talk to you.”

      Confused, Charlotte pulled her wheeled stool over to her friend’s side nonetheless. Mentlana was leaning up on one elbow, a serious look on her face.

      Charlotte knew that look all too well. It meant business.

      “What’s your question?”

      “This doctor from Toronto, he’s the one, isn’t he?” Mentlana asked.

      Charlotte’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”

      Mentlana’s eyes narrowed, glinting as black as coal as she fixed Charlotte with the serious gaze that made Genen and George almost wet their pants. “Don’t lie to me, Charley. This is the guy, right? He’s the guy who broke your heart and left after you lost the baby. The one you wouldn’t bring home to meet us. The one who, if I wasn’t pregnant and in need of him, I’d give a stern kick to the crotch.”

      Charlotte stood. Letting out an exasperated sigh, she scrubbed her hand over her face. “Yes. Dr. Devlyn is the one.”

      Mentlana reached out and grabbed her hand. “I know how hard it is for you to trust him, to bring him here, and I know you’re doing it for me and the baby. Thank you.”

      A sob caught in Charlotte’s throat but she controlled it. She forced a wobbly smile and smoothed Mentlana’s jet-black hair from her forehead. “I would do anything for you, even face the devil himself—or Devlyn, in this case.”

      “Witty.” Lana chuckled. “Now I’m really interested in meeting him.”

      Charlotte rolled her eyes and padded towards the door. “Well, he does have the bedside manner of a bull in a china shop, most days. Stay tight. I’ll bring him in to see you in a moment.”

      “Tight, right.” Mentlana snorted as Charlotte shut the door to the exam room. Just as she’d thought, Genen was pacing, and the rest of the family was crowded into the small reception area of her clinic. Genen almost rushed her as she approached.

      Charlotte held up her hands. “It’s nothing, just an irritated cervix. Mother and baby are fine, but I’ll have the specialist do an ultrasound to be absolutely certain.”

      Relief washed over Genen’s face. “Can I see her now, Charley?”

      “Sure. But just Genen,” she said, as the entire Atavik and Tikivik clan seemed to rise. Scanning the clinic area, she couldn’t see Quinn anywhere. Biting her bottom lip, she headed over to George.

      “Where’s Dr. Devlyn?”

      “In your office. I thought he’d be most comfortable there.”

      The blood drained from Charlotte’s face. “My office?” Oh, God. She hadn’t had a chance to clear away her personal items, including the cherished, faded old sonogram. The ultrasound he hadn’t even bothered to attend. The same sonogram he’d just grunted at when she’d shown it to him.

       “Don’t you want to see? It’s amazing!”

       “It’s not like you haven’t seen a sonogram before.”

       “I know. But, Quinn, it’s our baby.”

       He shrugged. “I have to go, Charlotte. I’m late for my rounds already.”

      He hadn’t wanted to see it then and even though it was childish, she didn’t want to share it with him now. Not after five years. He didn’t deserve to see it or share in any part of her grief.

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