The Nurse's Special Delivery Page 11

  And that was his fault. He shouldn’t have been messing about; he should have been much more concerned about her welfare instead of charging ahead. One slip. One slip was all it took. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know that. He should have been paying more attention. Should have protected her.

  That was another reason why he couldn’t do any more kissing; he was dangerous to be around.

  Bryn called over, ‘Can you help, Cal?’

  ‘Sure thing.’ The only thing he wanted to do more than help was rewind the whole morning. The taste of Abbie was still on his lips and hers were red and swollen. Regardless of what he’d vowed, there would be no forgetting that kiss. Ever. It was the best thing that had happened to him in his whole sorry life. He gave Abbie a hand to mount the horse, making extra sure she was safe and secure and out of his reach. ‘Come on, Abbie. Up you go.’

  ‘I have clothes you can borrow.’ Bryn took her phone out. ‘Do you want me to call ahead and get Tane to phone someone?’

  Cal bristled as he fashioned a sort of sling from his T-shirt, then wrapped his jacket around Abbie’s front, pulling her good arm through the sleeve and zipping her in, hoping to help her get warm. He was going to sort this out. ‘No. Really, I’m a paramedic, Abbie’s an ED nurse. We just need to dry off and get back to town. We know what we’re doing.’

  But after the kissing and the wanting to do it all over again, even though he shouldn’t, it was clear, without a shadow of a doubt, that they didn’t have a clue.

  * * *

  ‘Stop fussing, please. I’m fine.’ Of course it had been Emma that was the first one to see them as they walked into the ED, red-faced and bruised and still a little damp and dishevelled. Of course it had been her who had filled out the forms and shaken her head and given her that teasing naughty-girl look behind Cal’s back, along with her hottie and phwoar looks and the thumbs up, as if they were really sixteen again.

  So, of course, it was Emma who was now trying to get Abbie to take more painkillers and elevate her arm on cushions in Emma’s apartment. Rosie was fast asleep in bed and Cal had gone home. Been sent home, actually, because there wasn’t anything more he could do and Abbie needed some space to get her head together. Which was difficult given the analgesics she’d already had.

  The memory of the kiss had lingered between them as she’d looked for words to say to him on the drive from the stables and hadn’t been able to find any. What could you say after one smouldering kiss that had ended so abruptly?

  It had lingered as they’d walked from the car to the ED making polite conversation and as they’d sat waiting in X-Ray and not even made real meaningful eye contact.

  But something had changed between them and she thought it was right about that moment he’d looked down at her hurting wrist and seen her wedding ring.

  ‘It’s a nasty break, and even with a plaster cast on you still have to keep it higher than your heart to help the swelling go down.’ Emma stopped plumping more cushions and frowned. ‘I know, I’m teaching my grandmother how to suck eggs. But you need looking after and I wasn’t sure whether you wanted Cal to stay on. Plus, once he was satisfied you were going to be well looked after and that he could come back tomorrow, he didn’t seem all that keen on staying. What’s going on there? Horse riding not quite the perfect date after all?’

  ‘It was a dare, not a date. And it was great. Really. Lots of fun...until the fall. I’m worried about what I’ll do, when the baby comes, with a cast on.’

  ‘You’ll manage. We’ll manage. But I get the feeling it’s not just your arm that’s bothering you.’

  ‘I’m fine. Really.’ Thing was, Abbie just didn’t know how she felt about the kiss and she didn’t want to tell Emma about it for so many reasons. It was so hard to even begin working out what she was feeling. Yes, it had been divine. Yes, it had made her want him more. Yes, he was perfectly perfect in every way and made her heart thrill completely. But...well, he wasn’t going to be around and she’d had her fill of getting attached to men who didn’t stay.

  Worst thing of all: she didn’t want to get attached to Callum, but she actually thought she probably was, just a little bit. Even a little bit was too much.

  ‘Well...’ Emma rubbed her large belly and rocked from one foot to the other as if trying to get comfortable. ‘Missy’s certainly been active today. I think she wants to join the fun out here.’

  The painkillers didn’t dull Abbie’s panic. ‘But you’re only thirty-six weeks. I’m not ready. She’s not ready. We’re nowhere near ready.’

  ‘Hey, calm down. She’s just been doing somersaults, that’s all. She’s got lots of time to cook yet.’ Emma grinned and sat down next to her on the sofa. ‘So, without wanting to pry too much, I really do want to know what’s going on.’

  ‘With Cal?’

  ‘With Cal. I don’t want you getting hurt. I mean, getting your heart broken...given that you’re already in physical pain.’ Marriage for Emma meant pain. Men, for Emma, meant pain. Physical as well as emotional. She’d been hurt badly by a man who’d used her to get what he wanted. Commitment and love weren’t ever really in the picture.

  Cal wasn’t like that. ‘It was just an afternoon out, that’s all.’

  ‘Hey...’ Emma grabbed a cushion and held it against her chest. ‘You remember when we were kids and we used to imagine what our lives were going to be like and we said we didn’t need princes to make us princesses?’

  They’d been six or seven and had had the whole of their lives to look forward to. It had been very straightforward back then; girls ruled. Girls could surmount anything. Anything at all. Including a dead husband and an abusive one. If only they’d known what the hell was going to hit them. ‘I most certainly do remember.’

  ‘Right. So, then we discovered that princes could actually be quite good fun. And then, well, then we learnt that nothing is ever perfect. Thing is, we’ve been through a heap of stuff together and I really do want you to be happy...’ There was a soft mist in Emma’s eyes. She was a strong, independent woman, but she had a squishy heart. ‘I can see he makes you happy. You have a look, you know? You seem excited by him and that’s amazing. I love to see you like that; it’s been so long. Too long...’

  She squeezed the cushion tighter against her chest and Abbie wondered if there might be a little bit of envy there, or at least a fear of being left alone, pregnant and not horse riding with gorgeous Scottish men. Or any men. But no, surely not. Cal wasn’t going to be a permanent fixture; Emma knew that.

  There was still a little ache in Abbie’s heart at the thought of the kiss. ‘He’s a nice guy and we had some fun, but that’s all.’ If she said it out loud she might actually start to believe it herself. Then, the words just tumbled out. ‘We kissed.’

  Emma clapped her hands together. ‘I knew it. Or at least I guessed.’

  ‘Can I not have any secrets from you?’

  ‘No. Don’t you ever dare. Do you like him?’

  ‘I do.’ The pain was starting to break through now and Abbie lifted her wrist and looked at her fingers. They really were a kaleidoscope of colour. ‘But he’s not worth spending time on, right? I mean, there’s no point getting attached to someone.’

  ‘Because of the brother.’

  ‘Callum takes his responsibilities very seriously, obviously. So, to him, I’m probably just a dalliance, a Kiwi fling.’

  ‘He could be your Scottish fling. A Highland fling! God, I’m funny!’

  ‘Seriously? You’re suggesting this just before I become a mother. With a broken wrist.’

  Emma shrugged, then smiled. ‘Good point. Probably not one of the best ideas I’ve had.’

  Oh, but it was. For a few moments Abbie had been wrapped in his heat and it had been heavenly. She smiled to herself, hugging that thought close. At least she had the memory of one amazing kiss
with Cal to see her through to old age. ‘So, I’m going to call a halt to it all. I don’t want another relationship. I don’t want to think about anything else other than my baby, my family. Me and the little one.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘With him around the place I can’t give the pregnancy or anything else my full attention.’

  Emma patted Abbie’s good hand. ‘You don’t have to. I’ve got this.’

  ‘That is not the point. You’re doing enough. Being a mother is everything I’ve wanted and dreamed of for years, you know that. I don’t want to be distracted.’ Or feel guilty about you. She sighed. It had all seemed so uncomplicated before she’d climbed into that helicopter. ‘I like having an easy life.’

  ‘Life isn’t easy when you have kids, trust me. But it’s your call. If I were you, I’d have a bit of fun. You might not get another chance for a while. This way you get to play a little, no strings.’

  ‘Would you, though?’

  ‘I might.’

  ‘You wouldn’t. I thought you were completely off men. With who?’

  The smile Emma gave her was wistful. ‘No one really... Sometimes I get lonely. Sometimes I think it would be nice to have a little play.’

  ‘No! I thought you were sworn off men for ever?’ But that didn’t stop men asking after her, though. Abbie still wondered about the subtext of the Nixon conversation, but shoved it away—it wasn’t her business and she knew that, after the nightmare of her marriage, Emma was still bruised emotionally. Trust would be hard earned with that woman.

  But her friend laughed. ‘Hey, a girl can still window shop, right? There are some good-looking men around and I appreciate looking. Or maybe it’s just my hormones playing up. Still, if I had the chance, maybe I’d be tempted by a hot man like Callum.’

  ‘But then what? What if I fall for him?’

  Emma looked at the arm in a cast propped on the cushions and smiled softly again. ‘Honey, I think you already did.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  THERE WAS SOMEONE knocking at the door.

  Was there? Had she dreamt it?

  There it was again.

  Abbie dragged herself from the drug-induced sleep and sat up, her neck sore and her arm buzzing with pain. She looked around, wondering for a moment where she was. Then remembered she’d left Emma’s last night for the comfort of her own bed rather than sleeping on the sofa.

  Picking up her phone, she checked the time. Nine twenty-four! She’d slept fitfully but had fallen into a deep sleep after more painkillers in the early hours.

  Another knock.

  She climbed out of bed, pulling on her kimono-style dressing gown—tugging the sleeve hard over the cast—and walked through to the hall, trying to peer through the bubbled glass, but she could only make out a shape.

  ‘Hello?’ She opened the door and her stomach fluttered. The usual response she had to Cal. There he was, his lovely mouth smiling broadly. Those teasing eyes with their laughing, glittering with concern. His gaze ran the full length of her body, taking in her bare legs and navy silk pyjama shorts peeking out from her robe. When his eyes locked with hers there was so much heat there she was at risk of catching fire. There was no way she was going to be able to forget the kiss and the way it had made her feel, no matter how much she tried. ‘Hey. How are you?’

  He gave her a cheeky grin. ‘Morning. Sorry, did I wake you?’

  ‘No.’ Abbie ran a hand over her hair and imagined how she must look with her plaits all out of control and fuzzy—and then decided that he’d have to take her or leave her. This was who she was. ‘I’ve just been lazing around, y’know... D’you want to come in?’

  Did she want him to? Hell, yes. But she wasn’t sure it was such a good idea.

  His eyes flitted down to her arm. ‘In a minute. I just wanted to check you’re okay. How’s the wrist?’

  It was throbbing as she hadn’t taken her meds yet. She stretched it out a little, testing, twisting the cast back and forth. ‘Sore. But okay. I won’t be shooting clay things for a while.’

  ‘Luckily, that’s not what I had planned. I’ve got something...’ He looked a little abashed and for a moment she thought he was going to say something about yesterday, about the kiss. But he pointed over the balcony towards the car park. She stepped out into the surprisingly warm fresh air and looked down.

  Whoa.

  There was a Christmas tree roped onto the roof of his silver hatchback. The stump hung down to the car boot and was roped there too. ‘Is that...is that for me?’

  ‘The tree, not the car.’ He laughed. ‘You said you had a long list of things to do and, while I didn’t know what else was on it, I did know this was. I thought you probably wouldn’t be able to manage with your hand, so I got you one.’

  It was huge; probably far too huge for her small apartment. A big bushy conifer, like something out of a magazine. It was such a thoughtful gesture it made her heart squeeze. ‘It’s lovely. Thank you.’

  ‘And I have some decorations too. I didn’t get many because I assumed you’d have some already, somewhere. If you want me to get them for you I can.’ Cal paused. ‘Did I do something wrong?’

  There were tears pricking her eyes and she blinked them back. Because he was carving a way into her heart and she couldn’t stop it. ‘No. Not at all. It’s really lovely.’

  He looked relieved. ‘I feel bad about the arm, to be honest. It’s my fault you fell from the horse. I shouldn’t have been acting the way I did.’

  She thought about his brother and the way he was always so protective of him and realised that was his way. He saw himself as responsible for people, for making sure they didn’t get hurt. ‘Don’t be silly. You didn’t make me stand up in the saddle.’

  ‘But I knew you would if I did.’

  ‘I’m not that gullible.’ But he was right, she’d been so competitive and determined to play that she hadn’t given any thought to her own safety. Well, things were going to change. No more games. She would invite him in, thank him and then explain that the kiss had been the beginning and end of anything between them. Stepping back, she opened the door wide. ‘You’d better come in.’

  ‘Wait right there. I’ll just grab the tree.’

  And so he did. Then he went back down to get a box of baubles and tinsel and it was, almost, the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her. Because nothing could ever beat carrying a baby for you...but this was pretty special.

  So she didn’t have time to have a shower or anything except a face wash and teeth clean while he was at the car, and he didn’t seem to mind that she was in her pyjamas—in fact, he’d looked at her clothes and grinned. Smiled, actually, a slow sexy smile that seemed to reach down into her gut and stroke it.

  She pulled herself together. ‘Right, well, I have a box in the top cupboard, just here, we’ll just need to drag it out.’

  ‘Okay. Lead on.’

  ‘Just up there. At the back. Behind those boxes...yes, it says “XMAS” on it.’ In the tiny hallway she watched the shift of his T-shirt across his taut stomach as he stretched, and the pull of his arm muscles as he dragged down the box with strands of red tinsel trailing down the side.

  Since when had she found arm muscles attractive? Biceps brachii. Extensor carpi radialus longus. Abductor pollicis brevis. That was all they were. Not arms that had wrapped around her and pressed her against his chest. Or hands that had cupped her face and stroked her skin.

  Just muscles. Nothing to get worked up about.

  She hadn’t even had time to tidy things up. But she looked at the place through his eyes—heck, he was a man, he wouldn’t care that her huge red cushions weren’t exactly straight, or that there were parenting magazines still open on the large window seat that looked up to the mountains. Surely he’d gloss over the piles of bab
y things she’d left out, just so she could see them.

  She loved the place; decorating it in the bright blues and greens had been part of her healing process. She’d wanted to cover the drab beige that reminded her of illness and disease with something vibrant and alive. It had given her and Emma something else to focus on for a while.

  When Cal had brought the box through to the lounge and she’d managed to control her wayward feelings she flicked on the music system. ‘I never, ever dress the tree without Christmas music, so hang on. Let me find a play list.’

  He pulled a face. ‘Oh, God, it’s too early. Way too early. I should have offered to do some painting or DIY or something. Anything but death by “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus”.’

  ‘How dare you? This is the first time in years I’ve been excited about Christmas.’ She flicked some tinsel towards him and it caught him under the chin. He chuckled. She laughed, and it felt so nice to be looking forward; her heart was fluttering a little at the anticipation of new beginnings. ‘Don’t you spoil it for me, Callum Baird.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dare.’ His eyes widened as if he knew the kind of things she’d like to do to him. ‘I know I can’t outrun you, so I’m doomed.’

  There was an ease with which they started to put things on the branches. As if they both instinctively knew where things should go; even the childish hand-painted baubles that Rosie had given her. But too soon they were reaching to the bottom of the box and the only ones left were the named ones Michael had bought in Sydney. Callum picked up the one with her husband’s name on it and handed it to her. ‘I think you should put this one on.’

  ‘Thanks. Yes.’ She put it where it always went: near the top of the tree, next to hers. It had been a fun anniversary weekend when they’d stumbled on a little market in Paddington. She’d been looking at a jewellery stall and he’d surprised her with these Christmas baubles. One each. Just one each. She’d been on pregnancy number two and they hadn’t dared tell anyone as yet. They hadn’t bought Bump a bauble, or done any baby shopping at all because they’d learnt the first time that putting all those things into tissue paper and into a box at the back of a cupboard was heartbreaking. By the time that Christmas came around they’d already started grieving for the second baby they’d lost.