Love On Anchor Island: An Anchor Island Novel by Terri Osburn (web based ebook reader txt) 📗

The tardy patient picked that moment to enter the building. “Sorry for being late, Dr. Fielding. Old Bessy decided not to start on me.”

“That’s all right.” Turning his back on his father, he said, “Come on back, and we’ll get started.”

Alex didn’t give his father another thought. Maybe if he ignored him long enough, he’d give up and go home.

Turning up the volume in her headphones, Roxie had to admit that this K-pop stuff was kind of fun. Emma had shown her a bit of the video she’d been watching last week, and though Roxie had no idea what they were saying, the music was catchy as hell. The teen had insisted on sending her a playlist, and she’d already found herself singing along to all of the English parts.

Though the music was not what put a smile on her face. The night before had been pretty freaking great. There was something to be said for a man who understood the human anatomy, especially a woman’s. The medical degree had done nothing for Brendon. He must have slept through that class. But beyond the—ahem—multiple orgasms, Alex was like the human version of a happy pill. Roxie felt good when she was with him. Really good. And that was a completely new experience.

Callie had been tired this morning, and after they chatted about Roxie’s interest in working with the wedding planning business—which Callie seemed excited about—she left the exhausted mother to nap in peace. Before noon, Roxie had vacuumed the area rugs, swept the rest of the floors, and shifted a load of towels from the washer to the dryer. After a quick bite to eat, she danced around the kitchen island on her way to take the trash out to the can, and then returned to unload the dishwasher. Job done, she glanced around for her next task and spotted the chaos of the playroom off the kitchen.

“That should keep me busy.”

Trains, planes, and automobiles covered the floor. Literally. Careful not to step on the dreaded Legos, she reached a shelving unit with nine empty bins and set out to organize Connor’s mess. Thanks to her time at the daycare, she knew her efforts wouldn’t last long, but Roxie took on the job anyway. A half hour later, she could see most of the floor.

“Looking good,” she said aloud, popping out an earbud to scratch an itch. Right before putting it back in, Roxie heard a thud. Freezing in place, she listened and heard the faint call of her name. “Oh, God. Oh, God.”

Roxie raced up the stairs, heart beating out of her chest and praying that Callie had just knocked a glass off her nightstand. But when she reached the master bedroom, the bed was empty.

“Callie! Callie, where are you?”

“It hurts.”

Sprinting around the bed, she dashed into the bathroom to find the pregnant woman on the tile floor, panting and holding her stomach. “What happened? Did you fall?”

Eyes closed tightly, Callie said, “I called but you didn’t answer.”

Kneeling beside her, Roxie gripped her arm. “Can you get up?” That was when she saw the blood. “Oh, my God.”

“What? What is it?” Another pain must have hit because Callie made a gurgling sound and curled forward. “Roxie, what’s happening? You have to help me.”

She had one job. One goddamn job.

“It’s okay. Let me get the phone.”

Callie grabbed her hand. “Don’t leave me. Please, don’t leave me.”

Roxie worked her hand free. “I have to get the phone,” she said, her voice frantic. “We have to get help.”

As the gurgle turned into a scream, she hurried to reach the receiver she knew was on the nightstand. Too panicked to think straight, she dialed the number to Alex’s office and rushed back to Callie, who was covered in sweat.

“Fielding Family Practice, how can I—”

“Flora, put Alex on the phone.”

“Roxie?”

“Please, Flora, get Alex.”

“He’s with a—”

“Put Alex on the fucking phone. Now!”

The phone clicked, and Roxie prayed Callie would be okay. She had to be okay. How far was she now? Was it too early for the babies? Shit, shit, shit, why had she put in those stupid headphones?

“Roxie, what’s wrong?” Alex said, and she’d never been so happy to hear anyone’s voice in her life.

“It’s Callie. She’s on the bathroom floor, and there’s blood and—”

“Blood?” Callie said, her eyes wide as she squeezed Roxie’s hand.

“Don’t move her,” Alex ordered. “We’re going to hang up so I can get an ambulance over there. I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

No. He couldn’t leave her. “I don’t know what to do. What do I do?”

“Keep her as calm as you can.”

Not fucking likely. “She says there’s pain.”

“Roxie, we need to get the ambulance over there now. I’m hanging up. Just stay with her.”

The line went dead, and she dropped the phone. “Alex says it’s going to be okay,” she assured Callie, lying for herself as much as for the woman suffering. “He’s sending an ambulance. They’ll be here in no time. You’re going to be all right.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks. “What about the babies?”

Brushing wet hair off her forehead, Roxie tried to sound calm. “They’re going to be okay, too. You’ve done everything to make sure of that, right? This is going to be fine.”

Wedging herself between Callie and the bathtub, she held on tight and hoped to God that was true.

Chapter Eleven

Alex’s father insisted on driving to the hospital, and he had no time to argue. What Roxie described wasn’t good. At thirty-six weeks, the infants should be strong enough, but Alex didn’t know the full extent of what was going on and wouldn’t relax until all three of his patients were out of danger.

He reached the hospital before the ambulance. His father trailed behind him, silent for once in his life. Based on her voice over the phone, he’d assumed that Roxie hadn’t been thinking straight enough to make any more calls.

“Call Sam Edwards at the Anchor Inn and tell him to get here right away,” Alex told