Free THE MAVERICK DOCTOR AND MISS PRIM/ABOUT THAT NIGHT... by Scarlet Wilson Page B

Matt.”
    She was mad. She could never have done that. Never have cut Isabel out of her life for six years. It was unthinkable.
    Nearly as unthinkable as being responsible for her own sister’s death.
    “I texted her. Not often. Just every now and then to let her know I was safe.”
    “And that was supposed to be good enough?”
    He flung his hands up in frustration and shouted, “You don’t know, Callie. You don’t know anything. That was as much as I could manage. I needed time. I needed space. I didn’t want anything familiar around me. I wanted to get my head straight.”
    “For six years?” She was shouting back.
    His lips tightened. She knew there were tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. She couldn’t help it. What a waste. He’d dared to risk his relationship with his sister.
    A relationship she’d give anything to have again. It made her hate him.
    “Not everything in life is part of a plan, Callie. Maybe if you get some life experience, you’ll find that out.”
    She felt as if he’d just punched her in the ribs.
    He couldn’t be more wrong if he’d tried.
    But, right now, in the middle of the night, she was hardly going to fill in the blanks to a man she hardly knew.
    It was time to get some perspective. He had no idea how much those words had hurt. And she’d no intention of telling him.
    Distance. That’s what she needed.
    Being in an enclosed space with Matt Sawyer was doing weird things to her. Being in an enforced quarantine for up to eighteen days would plain drive her crazy.
    “Sawyer!”
    The shout came from down the corridor, followed by the sound of thudding feet. They both sprang to the door at once, yanking it open and spilling out into the hallway.
    “What is it?”
    The nurse was red faced, gasping for breath. “There you are. I need help. Jack’s struggling to breathe—he needs to be intubated. The spots must be causing his airway to swell.” She glanced from one to the other. “Tell me we’ve got a pediatrician who can do this?”
    Their eyes met.
    They didn’t have pediatric intensive care facilities. They were an ER—not a PICU. Their options were limited.
    Sawyer grabbed a gown and a mask. “I’ll do it.” He started to run down the corridor before she could ask any questions. “Get me a portable ventilator,” he shouted over his shoulder.
    Her head flooded with thoughts. What did the plan say? Were there algorithms for intubating smallpox patients? Were there risks attached to ventilating this child and possibly allowing the spread of disease?
    There was no time to think. There was only time to act.
    Sawyer had already sprung into action.
    And for once she agreed.

CHAPTER FIVE
    E VERYTHING   HAPPENED   IN   a blur. A portable ventilator seemed to appear out of thin air.
    The fear that had been hanging around everyone, crystallizing in the air, was pushed to one side.
    Jack’s stats were poor, his lips tinged with blue, but his face was red with the strain of struggling for breath.
    Intubating a child was never easy. Particularly a child who was panicking. Sawyer was at the bedside in a flash. “Give me some sedation.”
    The nurse next to him nodded, pulled up the agreed dose and handed him the syringe.
    Sawyer leant over Jack. The panic flaring behind the little boy’s eyes was obvious. Sawyer tapped his arm at the point where Jack’s cannula was sited. “I know you’re having trouble, little man. But I’m going to help you sort that out. I’m going to give you something to make you a little sleepy then put a tube down your throat to help you breathe. It will make things much better.”
    On a normal day he would have given a child some time to ask questions. Then again, on a normal day he wouldn’t be doing this. He administered the drug quickly, waiting for Jack’s muscles to relax.
    A few seconds later his little body sagged and the whole team moved seamlessly. Sawyer positioned himself at the head of the bed. “Give me a straight-blade