Free The Surgeon's Doorstep Baby by Marion Lennox Page A

‘Blake’s baby. If he asks nicely, he might be persuade you to take care of her while he stitches.’
    ‘You’ve brought your family here?’ Ronnie demanded of Blake, beaming her excitement.
    ‘Just his baby,’ Maggie said. ‘I suspect Blake thinks that’s enough.’
    * * *
    The wound on Christopher’s leg was jagged and bone deep. He was incredibly lucky to have escaped nerve damage, Blake thought as he cleaned, debrided and inserted internal stitches as well as external to hold everything together. They’d sedated the boy heavily, so he wasn’t out of it completely but he was wafting in a drug-induced haze. Maggie was doing the reassurance, prattling on about some weird video game Christopher loved, but at the same time she was giving him every inch of assistance he needed.
    She was an excellent nurse, Blake thought. The valley was lucky to have her.
    As he started the final suturing and dressing, Ronnie poked her head round the door and said apologetically, ‘Maggie, love, Joan Kittle’s here with Angus with asthma.’
    ‘I can handle Angus’s asthma,’ Maggie told Blake. ‘Mild asthmatic, hysterical mum.’
    ‘There seems to be an abundance of hysterical mothers in this valley,’ he noted, keeping on working. ‘Christopher, is it okay if your sister goes out to take care of a child with asthma?’
    ‘Yeah,’ Christopher said sleepily. ‘You’ll look after me, and everyone always needs Maggie.’
    They did. He had that pretty much figured by now.
    He finished stitching and dressing and tucked the little boy under blankets. Ronnie appeared again with a sleepy Ruby in her arms. He asked her to stay with Christopher and went to find out what was happening.
    Angus was obviously sorted. Maggie was now examining a toe, attached to a very large, very elderly guy who looked like he’d just come in from the cowshed. He sat slumped in a rather rickety chair in the makeshift waiting room, his boot off and his foot stuck straight out in front of him.
    Maggie turned as he entered and he was hit by a smile of sheer, anticipatory gratitude.
    ‘Mr Bowen has a splinter,’ she said.
    ‘Went out to chop the wood in me slippers,’ the old man said. ‘Dumb. Coulda chopped me foot off with an axe. Didn’t. Hit the wood with the splitter, though, and a bit of wood went right in. I’ve been digging round all morning with a needle and can’t get it. Maggie says you’re a doc.’
    He was an orthopaedic surgeon, Blake thought faintly. Was he supposed to go digging for splinters?
    But that’s what he did. He inserted local anaesthetic. He did a part resection of the nail of the big toe and managed the careful removal of a shattered splinter.
    He administered a decent shot of antibiotics—the guy had indeed been digging into the wound and Blake hated to imagine what he’d used to do it. He added a tetanus booster and a dressing and the man was ready to heave himself up and leave—but not before commenting on what had happened and on who Blake was.
    ‘Bob’s son, eh?’ he said jovially. ‘You sure don’t take after your old man. I can’t see Bob Samford pulling splinters out of anyone’s toes—he’d be more likely driving them in. And Ronnie tells me you’re here with your daughter. How about that? A whole new generation for Corella Valley Homestead. I’ll tell the wife to bake a cake.’
    And before Blake had a chance to rebut or even answer, he was hit by a slap on the back that made him stagger and the guy was gone.
    Leaving him...speechless.
    Blake Samford returns to the family property with daughter...
    Not so much.
    Maggie was cleaning up. She had her back to him. She didn’t say a word.
    He wanted to see her expression. He badly wanted to see her expression.
    She’d better not be laughing.
    ‘All finished,’ Ronnie asked, opening the door so they could see through to Christopher. ‘Chris wants to go home. Is he going back to your mum, Maggie, or will you take him back with