“I’ll be right there.” Reese tossed the phone onto the seat, flicked on the lights and siren, and slammed her foot down on the gas pedal.

CHAPTER FORTY

When Reese careened into her driveway, the EMT van was already there. The door to the living room was open, and as she pushed through, the paramedics were just strapping Tory onto a stretcher. Just seeing Tory like that made Reese’s stomach twist, and for one terrible second, she thought she might be ill. Then, Tory turned her head, their eyes met, and everything inside of Reese settled.

“Hey, love,” Reese said gently as she reached for the hand that Tory extended. “How are you feeling?”

“You need to call Wendy,” Tory said urgently. “She’s going to need to talk to whoever is on call at the local hospital, because I can’t make it to Boston.”

“Tell me what’s going on so I can tell her.”

Tory bit her lip and squeezed Reese’s hand so hard that the band on Reese’s ring finger pressed painfully into the bone.

“Tor?” Reese asked, trying unsuccessfully to keep the panic from her voice. “Baby? What is it?”

“I’m having…some pain.”

Tory’s face was white and her skin clammy.

Reese looked at the two men. “I think we need to hurry here.”

“Don’t worry,” one of them grunted as he pulled open the back of the ambulance. “We’ll be flying in just a minute.”

Once the EMTs had Tory secured inside the van, Reese knelt by Tory’s side on the corrugated floor, one hand cradling Tory’s head and the other gripping her hand. Within seconds, they were rocketing east on Route 6.

“Put the fetal heart monitor on now,” Tory instructed the EMT.

“Let me get you lined up first,” he said calmly.

“Check the baby’s heart rate first.” Tory gasped as another wave of pain began. “Hurry.”

“Sure, Doc. Just try to relax, okay?”

“Then call ahead and tell them…you have…an abruption coming in.”

The EMT hesitated, his expression darkening. “You sure?”

Tory gritted her teeth and sweat broke out on her forehead. Finally, when the cramp passed, she gasped, “Yes.”

“Tory,” Reese said urgently. “What’s happening?”

“I—” Tory clenched her jaws as another wave of pain coursed through her abdomen. “I think the placenta is separating from the uterine wall. That’s what’s causing the bleeding.”

Neither of them spoke for a moment as the EMT situated the external fetal heart monitor. The seconds it took for him to get a reading seemed endless. “Heart rate’s normal.”

“Watch it carefully for decelerations,” Tory instructed as she drew a shaky breath. She looked into Reese’s eyes and said, “They’re probably going to have to section me quickly, especially if the baby’s heart rate drops.”

“Can we wait for Wendy?” Reese asked hoarsely.

Tory shook her head. “We could try to wait, but there’s a danger for the baby if the hemorrhage worsens.”

“What about you?” Reese whispered, her insides so tight she could barely breathe. It’s you, Tory. Only you. You’re my heart. My soul.

“I’ll be okay.”

Reese had never been so scared in her life. She had to rely on what Tory was telling her, because she didn’t understand what was happening.

“They’ve called the OB guy to come in,” the EMT reported as he pulled a syringe and medication vial from the red tackle box that contained his emergency drugs.

“What is that?” Tory asked.

“Mag sulfate.”

“What’s it for?” Reese questioned.

The EMT hung the drip. “Helps prevent seizures from the hypertension and premature labor.”

Seizures. Jesus Christ. Reese thought her head might explode. “What about her blood pressure?”

“As soon as I get this drip going,” he said calmly, “I’ll give her a dose of nifedipine. That should take the edge off.”

“No,” Tory said forcefully. “Not until we’re in the emergency room. If my pressure drops and the baby becomes hypoxia, we need someone who can section me stat.”

“You’re still bleeding at a pretty good rate.” He regarded her solemnly. “That might settle down some if your blood pressure were a little lower.”

“We’ll be there soon, won’t we?” Tory asked, her face tightening as yet another wave of pain began to crest.

“ETA 6 minutes.”

“Then we wait.”

Tory closed her eyes, trying to gather her strength. Reese lifted her lover’s hand to her lips and held a kiss against the pale skin. The only comfort she could find in the nightmare world of the rocking van was the steady, rapid beat of the fetal heart monitor.

The instant the EMTs shoved the stretcher through the double doors into the emergency room, both men started shouting.

“…placental abruption…hemorrhage…hypertension…thirty-three weeks…OB stat”

A tall, thin balding man in a white coat approached on the run. “I’m Dr. Saunders, the emergency room physician. I called the OB attending. He should be here in forty-five minutes.”

“That might be too long,” Tory gasped. “Is there an OB resident in the house?”

“A second year,” the ER physician advised. “Not senior enough for what you need. I consulted the in-house general surgeon, just in case.”

“I’m expecting her obstetrician to call any second,” Reese stated as several nurses assisted the EMTs in moving Tory to a gurney. “When I tried to reach her earlier, I got her service.”

“Fine. We’ll alert the operating room to prepare for an emergency Caesarean section. I’ve called in the pediatric intensivist from home.”

“What have we got?” a deep voice questioned from behind Reese.

Reese turned as K.T. O’Bannon’s dark eyes fell on Tory. “She’s bleeding,” Reese murmured quietly, almost choking on the words.

K.T. nodded to Reese, then leaned over the bed and briefly ran her fingers over Tory’s cheek. Gently, she said, “Hi, Vic. I thought it had to be you when I heard that a pregnant doctor was coming in. I always seem to be on call when you roll in.”

“Just your luck,” Tory whispered.

“What’s the situation?”

“I think I’m getting ready to deliver this baby,” Tory gasped, her green eyes almost all pupil, her brow running with sweat. “I’m bleeding pretty rapidly.”

“Pressure’s up there too,” K.T. murmured as she quickly scanned the monitors surrounding the bed. She glanced at the OB resident, a freckle-faced, blond-haired boy who looked to be about fifteen, as he hurried up to the bedside. “Can you give me a status check on the baby?”

With a surprising degree of aplomb, the young man dragged over a portable ultrasound, checked the monitors, and did a quick evaluation. “Can’t tell the extent of the abruption. Fetal heart rate’s good with no dips, though. And there’s movement.”

Reese rapidly searched the faces clustered around Tory, frantically trying to decipher the medical shorthand. Sharply, she asked, “What does that mean?”

“It means the baby’s alive,” the resident said flatly.

Reese felt as if she’d been shot. It took her a second to get her breath. “You mean there’s a chance it might not be?”

“With a moderate to severe placental abruption, the fetal mortality rate is very high,” the resident dutifully reported.

“Christ, will you shut up,” K.T. snapped. “All I want you to do is stand here and monitor the baby. If you see a problem, tell me. Otherwise, I don’t want to hear anything from you.”

Purposefully, she turned partly away from him and looked steadily into Reese’s eyes. “The baby’s fine. The baby’s going to be fine as long as we keep a careful watch on things.”

“What about Tory?” Reese clutched the bed rail so hard her fingers ached. In a strangled voice, she repeated desperately, “K.T., what about Tory?”

“I’m not going to let anything happen to Tory.” K.T. angled back to Tory. “We may not be able to wait for a phone consultation with Wendy. You ready for that?”

“Yes,” Tory said, struggling with pain and fatigue and fear. “K.T…can you do this?”

“Of course I can,” K.T. said with absolute certainty. She tilted her chin toward the OB resident. “I’ll bring Junior here along for back up.”

“Then go ahead.” Tory closed her eyes.

“I won’t let you down, Vic,” K.T. murmured. Then she gestured to Reese and said in a low voice, “I need to speak with you over here.”

Reluctantly, Reese released Tory’s hand, stepped away from the stretcher, and followed.

“I’ll have to take Tory to the operating room very soon,” K.T. reported. “She could start bleeding more heavily at any minute, and that’s not only a risk to her life, but to the baby’s.”

“Okay,” Reese said hoarsely. “Whatever you need to do.”

K.T. nodded. “Good. I’ll need you to sign the consents.”

Reese complied, then walked on wooden legs back to Tory’s side. “I love you, Tory.”

Tory’s lids fluttered open. She smiled softly. “You’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted, sweetheart. If…if I—”

“Don’t.” Reese stopped her with a kiss. When she drew back, her blue eyes were calm. “We’re not saying goodbye. Not now. Not ever.”

“I lov—”

“We’ve got a dip in the fetal heart rate,” the OB resident called out.

“That’s it,” K.T. said firmly, grasping the bottom of the stretcher and propelling it out of the small cubicle as the resident grabbed hold of the other end. “Let’s move, everybody.”

Reese ran beside the gurney, trying to hold Tory’s gaze. Her lover’s eyes were clouded with pain and worry. The elevator doors slid open, most of the people piled on along with the stretcher, and Reese was forced to step back.

When the doors closed with a quiet swush, she was left alone in the suddenly still hallway. She had never felt so empty in her life.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Kate stood in the doorway of a small waiting room down the hall from two windowless, gray metal doors marked with a red sign that proclaimed No Admittance - Labor and Delivery. Her daughter sat alone, head bowed, face hidden in her hands