Daniel didn’t respond and Stella stayed silent, too.
Marriage, motherhood, maternity—Daniel’s three least favourite topics of conversation. And she should know. They’d had that conversation on numerous memorable occasions. Memorable for all the wrong reasons.
‘It’s natural to be concerned about the baby.’ Daniel spoke the words the woman needed to hear, but Stella sensed that part of him was detached.
‘Babies are surprisingly resilient,’ she reassured the woman. ‘And we’re going to check him very carefully.’
Daniel conducted a thorough examination and Stella knew that he’d shut the conversation out of his mind with ruthless efficiency. He was looking for clinical signs that might suggest a problem. He wasn’t thinking about babies or emotion.
He was palpating Fiona’s abdomen when she gave a little gasp of fright and shifted on the trolley.
‘Oh!’ Her eyes widened with panic. ‘I think I’m bleeding. Oh, God, am I losing it? Please don’t say I’m losin
g the baby.’
More comfortable with a medical emergency than an emotional one, Daniel was cool and calm as he examined her. ‘Stella—give my brother a call, will you? Tell him I need him down here.’
Meeting his gaze briefly, Stella moved to the phone and spoke to Switchboard.
Fiona put her hand over her eyes and started to cry. ‘I can’t believe I’m bleeding. I wish I’d never left the house. We were going Christmas shopping. I know there’s another three weeks to go but I wanted to get it out of the way in case something happens. And now I’ve made it happen.’ Great tearing sobs shook her body and Stella slipped her arm around the woman’s shoulders, trying to imagine how she’d feel in the same position.
‘You haven’t made anything happen,’ she soothed. ‘You must try and calm down, for the baby’s sake.’
‘If I lose this baby—’
‘Fiona.’ Daniel reached for an IV tray, nothing in his voice betraying the fact that he was concerned. ‘I want you to relax and trust me. My brother is one of the best obstetricians in the country and he will take a look at you.’
‘One of the best?’ Patrick strode into the room, a mocking gleam in his eyes as he looked at Daniel. ‘I’m not one of the best. I’m the best.’
Fiona blinked in shock and Stella sighed.
‘Yes, they’re twins. Don’t worry, you’re not seeing double. Both of them as arrogant as the other.’
Fiona gave a feeble smile. ‘Are they as good as they seem to think they are?’
‘Fortunately, yes.’ Stella adjusted one of the probes. ‘Or maybe I should say unfortunately. I don’t know. It makes them unbearable to be with, but I suppose it’s good for the patients. Patrick? Do you want to take a look at this CTG trace?’
‘I’m looking.’ Patrick stood next to her, studying the trace in silence. ‘All right—so there are a few dips there.’
Stella looked up and found Daniel glancing between her and Patrick. Then he focused on his brother’s profile, so like his own. His jaw tightened, his blue eyes glittered dangerously and Stella felt a rush of trepidation. He’d obviously registered the fact that Patrick hadn’t been surprised to see her.
Patrick looked up and met his brother’s accusing gaze.
They were like a couple of stallions, Stella thought with exasperation, locked in a battle over territory. The interaction lasted less than a few seconds, but the impact was sufficiently powerful to leave her nervous of what was to come.
Why couldn’t she have fallen in love with someone mild and gentle?
Pivoting back to the patient, Daniel fastened a tourniquet around Fiona’s arm. ‘I’m just going to put a cannula in your vein, in case we need to give you some fluid. Can you straighten your arm for me?’
‘Stella—can I have a pen?’ While Daniel set up an IV, Patrick was examining the woman’s abdomen. ‘I want to mark the height of her uterus.’
Stella swiftly provided him with a pen, wishing she’d never accepted Patrick’s offer of accommodation. It was going to cause problems, just as she’d feared. She should have stayed somewhere else.
Then she frowned, cross with herself. The stable was lovely. And she could live anywhere she chose to live. It was none of Daniel’s business.
And if it was difficult for him—well, tough.
He didn’t care, did he?