Pregnant By The Single Dad Doc. Louisa Heaton

into another room filled with incubators. Behind him she saw a row of them, one or two nurses and a few stressed-looking parents.

      ‘The...er...liver isn’t fully developed in a neonate, so it isn’t as effective at removing the bilirubin from the blood.’

      He nodded. ‘Good. You’ve been reading up for this placement?’

      She let out a breath. ‘As much as I could along with...you know...doing assignments and things.’

      ‘Stay on top of it. It’s essential.’

      ‘I will.’

      She was a little annoyed that he was being this way—telling her what to do, being standoffish and abrupt—but she didn’t want to say anything because he was now her mentor and, quite frankly, she’d had worse. But because of their personal history it niggled that he was the one telling her what to do.

      ‘There are two babies in this next bay with jaundice, both being treated with fibre optic phototherapy. We have blankets that are laced with fibre optic cables, which shine directly onto the babies’ backs. What contra-indications should we be aware of?’

      She didn’t know. There’d not been anything about that in the text she’d read earlier. ‘Um...’

      He answered for her. ‘Temperature needs to be checked, and we must also make sure they don’t get dehydrated.’

      Of course! It was obvious now that she thought about it, and she felt like kicking herself for not knowing the answer in front of him. Her cheeks flushed red, but he didn’t see because he was pushing the door open and showing her where she could wash her hands.

      ‘Right—over here we have Bailey Newport and his mum, Sam.’

      Ellie gave a nervous smile to the mum.

      ‘Bailey is one of a set of triplets, born prematurely at thirty-two weeks. Sam had an emergency C-section, due to the threat of pre-eclampsia, but we only had one free cot, so her husband Tom is with the other two babies at St Richard’s. We’re hoping to get the family together as quickly as we can, but right now it’s impossible to do so.’

      Sam gave them a patient smile. ‘It’s difficult, but we take it in turns to be with each baby as much as we can. I’m expressing, but...’

      Her voice trailed away as she looked down at her son and Ellie felt as if someone had punched her in the gut. Her baby was small. Thin, scrawny limbs, his body covered, it seemed, by wires and tubes. His tiny little hands scrunched up tight.

      Witnessing hurt and pain like this would be the most difficult part of this placement, and she had to grit her teeth really hard and concentrate on her breathing so that she didn’t let it overwhelm her.

      ‘Bailey’s taking his mum’s milk well. He’s one of the babies we have using the phototherapy, but his bilirubin levels are coming down nicely and we hope we can wean him off that soon.’

      ‘That’s good. Have you been able to hold him yet?’ she asked Sam. She knew that was what any new mother wanted more than anything.

      ‘Just the once. Everyone’s so busy...we sometimes don’t get the chance to.’

      Logan looked at her directly. ‘Perhaps you’d like to help Sam hold Bailey right now?’

      ‘Really? I’d love to.’

      ‘Okay, let’s wash our hands first.’

      ‘Ooh! Me too!’ Sam beamed.

      As Sam did that Logan stood on the opposite side of the incubator from Ellie and they looked at each other over the top of it. His hot gaze was full of questions and uncertainty and she wondered what he was thinking? Was he glad that she was here? As his student? Or was he troubled by it? He seemed to be looking at her as if he was really struggling with it.

      She didn’t think she would fall in love with him again. She wasn’t after falling in love with anyone—not after what had happened between her and Daniel. But he could at least look at her fondly, as if he remembered the times they’d shared. As if she was his friend. He seemed to be looking at a space just off to her left now. As if he couldn’t quite meet her gaze directly.

      When Sam had washed her hands, she and Logan did the same and then he showed her how to open up the incubator, so that Bailey and all his tubes and wires could be safely transferred over to Mum and nothing would be caught, or twisted, or blocked.

      She nodded and stood by his side, aware of his closeness, listening to his sensible instructions and trying not to think too much about how close they had been and how this was going to be the first baby she’d held since Samuel.

      He’d been bigger than Bailey. Full-term, almost. Bailey seemed tiny in comparison and she didn’t want to hurt him.

      When the moment came she picked him up reverently, as if he was a precious Crown Jewel she was transferring to a safe, holding her breath until the transfer was done and she’d smilingly laid him in his mother’s embrace.

      Sam’s face lit up with joy. ‘Hello, little man. It’s Mummy.’ She glanced up with happiness, her eyes welling with tears as she looked to Ellie and Logan with gratitude. ‘Thank you so much!’

      Ellie could have stood there all day, feeling all the feelings, just watching this mother with her precious son, experiencing that moment. There was nothing else like it. Such a powerful image...a mother holding her child.

      She’d had a similar moment herself, only hers had not been tinged with joy but with grief.

      Feeling her own tears well up, she hurriedly blinked them away, wiping her eyes just in case.

      * * *

      Logan saw Ellie try to hide her tears and he was rocked to his core, fighting the urge to hold her. To comfort her. The Ellie he’d known had never been so emotional or sentimental. She’d been determined and strong, batting away the troubles of life with a confident smile on her face and a you can’t hurt me shield.

      It was something he’d always admired about her—especially when her father had become sick and needed that heart transplant. He’d marvelled at her stoic attitude, amazed at her strength as her father’s health had continued to dwindle until the call eventually came to say that there was a heart for him.

      Back then he would have crumbled under such similar circumstances, but thankfully his parents had been blessed with fine health. Something they were taking full advantage of now, in their retirement years, travelling the globe. The last he’d heard from them they’d been in Bali and had sent him a postcard of the beach there.

      Perhaps it was this place? The NICU? It was a stressful environment for anyone to be in. No one wanted their family to need to come here. No one wanted to see babies covered in wires and needing machines to breathe for them, or tubes to feed them. He had to fight the feeling to reach out and wrap his arms around her and soothe her upset.

      Trying to remember his own first day on the NICU, Logan thought back to his own emotions and feelings and recalled how apprehensive he’d been, how fragile the babies had seemed, how complicated it had all looked. Had he wanted to cry? No, but...

      Then there’d been the day that Rachel was born. And he’d had to come here. Not as a doctor, but as a parent...

      Perhaps instead of soothing Ellie, he ought to be toughening her up?

      ‘Ellie, could I have a quick word outside?’

      He turned to leave, squirting his hands with antiseptic gel as he did so, rubbing the alcohol cleanser into his skin and waiting for her to join him. His heart was thudding, and he knew he’d sounded stern, but he hadn’t been able to help it. Her being here had thrown him into turmoil.

      Ellie closed the door quietly behind her and looked at him questioningly.

      ‘I know this is a difficult place to be,’ he said, searching for the right words, not