Angels In The Snow. Sarah Morgan

Angels In The Snow - Sarah Morgan


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and the leg is splinted. I need another bag of fluid and …’ Daniel glanced up, saw Stella and lost his thread.

      Their relationship had begun with a single look, a single look that had altered the future for both of them.

      Non-verbal communication had been their speciality—a knowing glance, a touch, a smile that was more of a promise—and if she’d hoped that the damage that lay behind them would have changed anything, she was disappointed.

      The sudden jolt of chemistry was powerful enough to have Stella reaching out to hold the side of the trolley. It was as if she’d touched a high-voltage cable and a thousand memories shot through her, all of them including a man with ice-blue eyes and a dangerously sexy smile.

      But the smile wasn’t in evidence today.

      His lean, handsome face was serious, his expression doing nothing to soften the hardness of the man.

      It was unfortunate that he’d come straight from a rescue, Stella thought weakly. Stubble suited him. The first thing she’d done every morning had been to drag her fingers over the darkness of his jaw, just before she’d kissed him …

      Her stomach took a dive. ‘Hello, Daniel.’

      He unzipped the neck of his jacket roughly, as if it was choking him. ‘Stella?’ His voice was hoarse and shocked and suddenly she couldn’t breathe because the memories were out of control.

       His breath hot on her neck; his skilled, knowing hands on her trembling body; that same husky voice murmuring her name.

      She gazed back at him, the only man who’d ever had this effect on her.

      In London she’d hoped to meet someone who would make her forget Daniel. But how did you forget a face as absurdly handsome as his? How did you forget six feet two of arrogant masculinity? Who, out of the many doctors she’d met during her period of self-imposed exile, would have been capable of abseiling into a narrow ravine and masterminding the rescue of a severely injured boy?

       Who would have had the ability to make her care so much that when it had ended, part of her had ceased to function?

      Remembering the agony was what saved her. Stella turned back to the patient, reminding herself that ‘Caring of Cumbria’ liked long walks and was looking for commitment. ‘Hello, Sam.’ She walked over to the stretcher and smiled at the white-faced boy. ‘I hear you’ve had a bit of an exciting day.’

      He looked impossibly young and he turned his head to look at Daniel, fear and hero-worship mingling in his eyes. ‘You promised you wouldn’t leave me. You said—’

      ‘I know what I said.’ Daniel’s voice was rough and he curved his hand over the boy’s shoulder. ‘And I’m not leaving you. But I do need to try and sort out that leg of yours. Trust me. Just do as I say and you’re going to be all right.’

      Always In control. Always in charge.

      Trust me.

      Stella gritted her teeth. Trust me to break your heart. But she noticed that his hand stayed on the boy’s shoulder, providing the contact and reassurance that was so obviously needed as he gave the other doctors a series of instructions.

      She guided the stretcher alongside the trolley. ‘We’re just going to move you across, Sam.’

      ‘You’re working here?’ Daniel’s harsh interruption made her flinch and Stella gently removed the blanket covering the boy.

      Wasn’t it obvious? ‘I’ve called the radiologist.’

      ‘Wait.’ His hand covered hers, stopping her. ‘We move him on my count, not before.’

      She’d forgotten what it was like, working with him. When he was in Resus, he was the one in command. Which was why this particular hospital had such impressive success rates, she thought dryly. Her heart thumping, Stella glanced down at the strength of his fingers covering hers and gently eased her hand away. ‘Fine. On your count.’

      Registering her withdrawal, his jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed dangerously. ‘Why did no one tell me you were back?’

      ‘Because the medical staff aren’t usually interested in nursing appointments,’ Stella said calmly, wondering if he was even aware that the other medical staff in the room were watching them, wondering what was going on.

      Nothing was going on, she told herself firmly. Nothing, except an awkward first meeting.

      They transferred the boy from stretcher to trolley, and Daniel gave Stella a fulminating look that warned her that the conversation was far from over. Then he turned back to the frightened child and proceeded to demonstrate how he’d earned his reputation as a ferociously talented emergency doctor.

      Maintaining a casual flow of conversation that distracted the boy, he examined him thoroughly, his skilled hands looking for injuries he hadn’t already identified

      ‘How’s that pain, Sam?’

      ‘It’s OK.’ But the boy’s face was grey and Daniel glanced towards one of his colleagues.

      ‘Is that line in yet?’

      ‘Just about to do that now.’ The more junior doctor was obviously keen to ask questions. ‘So what’s the Gustilo classification? Was there extensive tissue loss? Much bone exposure? This is an orthopaedic emergency, right?’ His tactless observation drew a terrified sound from the boy and he clutched Daniel’s arm.

      ‘I feel sick.’

      Panic, Stella thought to herself and Daniel gave him a warm smile.

      ‘You’re doing fine, Sam. I’m not worried and if I’m not worried, you don’t need to be worried.’ He glanced towards the doctor who had spoken and Stella saw his eyes narrow dangerously. ‘Get that line in,’ he murmured softly, ‘and I’ll talk to you about the case later.’

      And about other things, Stella thought to herself. Daniel Buchannan was too much of a perfectionist to allow the younger doctor’s slip to pass without comment.

      ‘Just breathe for me, Sam,’ she said softly. ‘I’m going to attach these wires to you so that we can monitor your pulse and blood pressure without having to disturb you.’

      The boy looked at her gratefully. ‘You probably think I’m a baby.’

      ‘Babies don’t climb in Devil’s Gully.’ Stella wrapped the blood-pressure cuff around his arm. ‘I’ve seen it from the top. Never had the nerve to go down.’

      Sam closed his eyes. ‘My mum is going to kill me.’

      ‘She’ll just be glad you’re all right.’ Stella looked at the monitor, noticing the rapid pulse rate and the low blood pressure. She looked at Daniel and he inclined his head briefly, but said nothing that would worry the boy.

      ‘I’m going to give you something else for the pain and sickness in just a moment, Sam,’ he said gently, checking the boy’s abdomen. ‘Stella, I want to do a FAST scan. There might be some bleeding here.’

      Stella reached for the machine, still talking to the boy. ‘I can’t believe you climbed that bit of the mountain,’ she said briskly, reaching for the drugs that Daniel was going to need. ‘It’s a tricky route, even in summer. Steep.’ She talked as she worked, keeping the boy’s attention.

      ‘It was snowy and I went too close to the edge.’

      Picturing the scene, Stella suppressed a shudder. The boy had been lucky to escape with his life. Knowing the harsh, unforgiving terrain, she also knew that Daniel must have risked his own life to save the child. ‘That story is going to get you lots of sympathy over Christmas,’ she said lightly. ‘And bigger presents.’

      The child’s face brightened slightly. ‘Do you think so?’

      ‘I’m sure.’ Stella grinned and put


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