The Nurse's Special Delivery Page 5

  She’d got over talking about Michael’s death without crying. The grief didn’t overwhelm her as it used to. She could go a few days without that lurching feeling in her stomach when she thought about him. But explaining it to Cal felt difficult, for some reason. Never mind the whole someone else is cooking our baby bit.

  ‘It’s what?’ Cal stopped, his eyebrows knotting together as he looked at her. They’d come up to a quaint old café overlooking the lake and he pointed to it. ‘Tell you what, let’s have a coffee. Something stronger? You look like you need it and I have to confess, I’m all intrigued.’

  Sit down and analyse everything? No, thanks. ‘You know, I’m actually happy moving and talking.’

  He was still smiling. ‘Yes, I got that the first time I met you.’

  ‘Really?’ He’d noticed her? There was a little thrill in her stomach. A strange long-forgotten feeling, as if her body was remembering how it was supposed to work. She’d been on autopilot for so long—just breathing and surviving—this was new and different and not a little scary.

  They began to amble along the path and, even though it felt strange, she had to admit it was actually quite nice to be in the company of a man for a change. Emma was her best friend and they talked about anything and everything, but this was...different. Interesting. She drew the line at exciting, because she wasn’t going to allow herself to feel that, despite her tummy going all out with its little butterflies. ‘Anyway, Emma said I was mean to let you think we were in a relationship, when nothing could be further from the truth. Em is my friend, that’s all.’

  He cleared his throat. ‘I see. You’re not married to her. You’re not gay?’

  ‘Not even a little bit. She really laughed at that bit, said I wasn’t her type.’

  Did she imagine it or did his breathing hitch a little? Did his pupils dilate ever so slightly? Probably not. ‘Ah, so it’s her baby...but you’re great friends, so you refer to it as yours too? Am I any closer?’

  ‘Not exactly. Maybe we should have had that coffee after all.’ She sighed and took a few more breaths of perfectly cold refreshing air. Everyone at the hospital knew what had happened to her husband. All her family and friends had been so very supportive, so she didn’t ever have to explain it to anyone new. Because there was never anyone new in her life. Until now.

  But wait! Cal wasn’t in her life. He was just another traveller passing through. Regardless, she did owe him an explanation. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t ask anyone at work—Shane even, when he was discharged—and they’d tell him anyway. It just felt better if she said it. ‘Okay...so, I’m wearing a ring because I was married to a wonderful man, but he got cancer and died before we could have any kids. So Emma’s having one for us.’

  She’d said it so fast she thought he might not have caught up with it all, but clearly he had, as it made him actually stop in his tracks. ‘Whoa.’

  ‘I know.’ The thought of the baby made her smile. The thought of Michael made her sad. It was how it was: a see-sawing of emotion. Her life. It was so much easier talking about this as they moved along the track rather than face to face in the café, with all that intimate intensity and not being able to avoid the eye contact that brought with it.

  But Cal was all amazing eyes and concern. ‘You really have been through a lot. I don’t even know where to begin here. There are so many questions—and I understand if you don’t want to answer them. I don’t even know if I should ask them.’

  ‘It’s okay.’

  ‘I don’t even know what to ask...your husband... So...how long ago...did he...?’

  ‘Michael. His name was Michael. He died coming up to four years ago.’

  He glanced down at the ring. ‘I see.’

  He didn’t have to say another word. She’d spent so long wishing Michael were here, and she still did wish that. So much. She picked up the pace again. ‘Yes, I still wear the ring. I’m still married in my heart, you see.’

  ‘Aha. And the baby? This is where it gets confusing for a soft-headed man like myself.’ He scratched his chin and frowned and she knew he was just playing her, but it was confusing, even for her, and she knew exactly what was going on.

  ‘I can’t, you know, have one. Have any. So Emma said she’d do it for me. Surrogacy. She’s going to give me the baby when it comes.’ I hope.

  His eyes narrowed. ‘You have concerns she might want to keep it?’

  Had she actually said that out loud? ‘No, not at all. It’s just, I’ve been thinking long and hard about this recently, and I’m so very, very grateful to her. She’s giving me my dream. We always wanted kids, you know? But when I look deep into my heart, I don’t think I could do it. I don’t think I could carry a baby and then give it to someone else.’

  His voice was softer when he spoke. ‘It’s amazing what you’ll do for someone you love.’

  He was quiet for a few moments then—not a difficult kind of quiet, more a sad one. And yet, it wasn’t a sad conversation or a sad prospect, not really. She was getting the one thing that she wanted. So, she presumed, he must have been sad about something else. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up...to make you feel awkward or anything.’

  As if brushing off a memory, he shook his head. The smile was back, although a little less spectacular than before. ‘Not awkward. Not at all. When’s it due?’

  ‘Twenty-third of December.’ A Christmas baby. She hugged that delicious thought to herself.

  But, like a mind-reader, he nodded. ‘Just in time for Christmas.’

  ‘I used to love Christmas. This is just going to make everything better again.’

  ‘I hope so. Sounds perfect. If that’s what you want.’

  Clearly it wasn’t what he wanted.

  Why had she even told him all this? Why had she told him any of it? It wasn’t like her to just blurt out her past history and her worries to a...stranger. He was a stranger. With a nice face. And amazing eyes. But he was still a stranger. A stranger who obviously had troubles of his own, had known difficult times.

  ‘Anyway. That’s me. Complicated doesn’t begin to describe it. But... I don’t know, I just felt like I owed you an explanation.’

  ‘Abbie, you don’t owe me anything. What you do is your business. I’m sure it’ll all work out and you’ll be very happy.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘After what you’ve been through, you deserve some good times.’ Without any warning, he sloped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into a sideways hug. Just a squeeze, really, a friendly you’ll-be-fine kind of thing, not anything meaningful. But her heart thumped at his touch. Her skin prickled. She inhaled his smell and thought, Nice. More than nice. There was that little butterfly stretching its wings in her stomach again. She pulled away.

  They were still a little way from town, so she couldn’t do what she naturally felt like doing, which was running. Running away from this feeling. From his hug. From this very nice man who was making her heart trip just a little too much. So she turned her attention onto him. All the better to put her own emotions and history back in their box. ‘What about you? Family?’

  ‘Just the brother. For the foreseeable future and beyond.’

  When he’d spoken the other day about having to go back to Scotland for his responsibilities she’d presumed he’d meant family. A wife. Kids, maybe. And then she checked herself, because assumptions were what had made her feel uncomfortable when the staff had been talking about her. Just a brother seemed a strange reason to take himself halfway round the globe—clearly they had strong ties. ‘Is that who you were talking to earlier?’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘You heard, eh? He’s being a jerk. But then he thinks I’m being a jerk. So it’s situation normal for the Baird brothers.’

  ‘The bossy sibling strikes again?’

  ‘Yeah. Bu
t the less said about that, the better. Let’s not dwell on my baby brother. Don’t want to ruin a perfectly nice day.’ And there wasn’t anywhere to go with that; he had that set-jaw look that she’d seen too many times on Michael to know he wasn’t going to elucidate.

  ‘Okay. So, no wife? Or husband?’

  ‘No. Neither. And, I’m not having anyone’s baby.’ The light was back in his eyes now and he laughed, flattening his T-shirt over very flat-looking abs. ‘This is just beer and good New Zealand kai.’

  ‘Let’s run it off, then!’ And they were back to being silly and laughing and doing little spurts of sprints and star jumps, then a final race to the big red and white First World War memorial archway.

  She got there first. Obviously. ‘You’re going to have to do better than that next time.’

  Next time?

  ‘Ach, well, I don’t want to tell you this, but I did slow up just to let you think you’d won.’

  ‘Too funny.’ She flicked her hand across his shoulder. He was a good guy. But a liar. ‘You did not. I could see you really pushing all out.’

  ‘Aye, well maybe. Or maybe not, you’ll never actually know, will you? Besides, I have strength in other areas.’ The way his mouth tipped up made her fixate on his lips. They were lovely. He had the best kind of smile.

  She was still looking at his mouth as she spoke. ‘Hmm...strengths? Sounds interesting?’

  Flirting? Was she flirting?

  ‘When’s your next day off? I’ll show you.’

  ‘What? When? Me? No. I couldn’t.’

  His hands were on his hips now as he teased her. ‘Scared? Don’t want to be beaten, is that it?’

  Was this a date? No, it wasn’t a date. They both knew a date would be stupid. She didn’t want a man...and definitely not a man who was leaving and who had something sad in his past that was dragging him back to places he didn’t want to go. But he was going anyway.

  She’d already had one man leave her. One perfect, irreplaceable husband. This was just...something to do with her day off. And a bet of sorts now, as well. She couldn’t turn down a bet. ‘Never. Tuesday. Day off.’

  ‘Right. Meet you here at ten.’ He tapped the stone archway. ‘Prepare yourself for some fun.’

  Fun? What the hell was that? She shouldn’t be messing around with him. She had a whole heap of things to do to get ready for the baby. Her next day off should be spent shopping, cleaning, antenatal class tour of the maternity unit... ‘I’ll have to be done by two o’clock, though.’

  ‘Right. See ya, then.’ With a wink he turned and ran off around the edge of the lake, scattering the sleeping ducks and seagulls as he went, filling the sky with squawks and cries and feathers. His long limbs moved with surprising grace, his body clearly attuned to exercise.

  There was so much adrenalin going through her she should have run too, but she hung back and watched him disappear into the milling crowds. A quick wave. That smile. And the butterflies began to dance in her stomach again.

  But it was far easier to watch him run than to examine what was going on inside herself.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ‘MAKE HER BREATHE. Make her breathe.’

  The floppy toddler was thrust into his arms and Cal was on full alert. They were fighting the clock—hell, in this job they were always fighting the clock—but getting some adrenalin into this wee mite was the only thing that was going to fix her breathing.

  With a history of allergies, she’d responded to the rogue peanut in her bestie’s smuggled-in kindergarten snack like a pro. Many kids got flushed skin when they started to react to an allergen, but some went pale. Not pale enough to alert a carer necessarily, so warning signs weren’t always noticed at first.

  Ava was now ghostly pale and her face grossly swollen, so much so her eyes were barely visible. The allergic reaction was already in full flow. Tight wheezes came from her chest, otherwise she was eerily quiet as she stared up at him. The rest of the kindy kids had been ushered outside to play in the sunshine, their happy chatter the only noise breaking through that of the toddler’s restricted breaths.

  Geez, if ever he needed a distraction from the enigmatic Abbie, this was it. He’d not been able to get her out of his head for the last few days and every time he’d delivered a patient to the ED he’d found himself looking out for her. Their paths hadn’t crossed since the run. Which was of no consequence right now.

  ‘Hey, sweetie. Not feeling too good today?’ It was always the little ones that got him the most. They were the ones that kept him awake at night, no matter how much he tried to put them out of his head. It was their faces he saw when he closed his eyes. The sweet damp baby perfume that lingered, along with the smell of fear from their parents. At least then it wasn’t Finn’s face and the heavy weight of panic tight in Cal’s chest.

  Having run in from the first responder car, he’d brought no gurney, so he lay Ava on a blanket on the well-worn carpet and started to draw up the age-suitable adrenalin. ‘I’m going to give you a little injection, baby girl. That’s going to help everything. Okay? Okay, Ava. Can someone gently hold her to stop wriggling? Great. Here we go.’

  ‘Wait.’ Just as he was about to administer the injection the teacher gave out a wail. She was equally pale and shaking as she held the tot’s legs. ‘Mum’s not here. I can’t... I can’t give consent. Can I?’

  ‘Lady, I’m giving consent.’ This really wasn’t the time for semantics. He had a duty of care and right now he was the only one able to save this kid’s life. He raised his hand again and jabbed the needle into the little girl’s thigh, watching as she screwed her face tightly. But not a whimper. Probably didn’t have the energy to, she was so busy fighting her body’s reaction, and failing. Just the roll of a lip, and what he could see of her eyes filled. He stroked back thick blonde curls, trying to keep emotion from rolling thick and fast into his chest, all the time assessing. Assessment beat emotion, every single time. Later, in the privacy of his own home, he’d go over his actions and his reactions. He’d allow the brief jolt of fear, then he’d remind himself he’d saved another life. The numbers were stacking up in his favour but it was the near misses he re-examined over and over. His penance for one stupid mistake.

  He tugged a mask over her face and gave her oxygen from the portable canister. ‘Yes, I’m sorry, it hurts, it hurts, sweetie. I know. You’ll feel better soon.’

  He hoped. He watched, and waited. The kid’s pulse raced. Her eyes closed...

  ‘Whoa, baby. Come on.’ He attached the stickies from the portable monitor to her chest. Fast heartbeat...but a rapid heartbeat was better than none. The swelling was still severe but it often took a while for that to go down.

  ‘Breathe, kiddo. Breathe well. Come on, wee thing.’

  ‘Where is she? Where is she? What the hell happened?’ A well-dressed woman burst into the room, ran over and launched herself at Ava.

  Cal managed to hold her off just enough to make sure the toddler was coming round. A little sigh then a big gulp of air. A whimper. Then a full-blown cry. Thank God. He breathed out long and hard. ‘She’s doing okay now, aren’t you, little lassie?’

  ‘What did you give her?’

  ‘You are?’ The last thing he needed was to be giving out confidential information to the wrong person. He thought he knew who she was, but waited for confirmation.

  ‘Her mother, of course. She’s allergic to peanuts, eggs, tree nuts and anything dairy. And they know this. It’s in her notes and I have to remind them all the time. They should be more careful.’

  ‘I gave her adrenalin. She’s had an allergic reaction.’

  ‘Her EpiPen?’ The woman looked down at the ampoule. ‘Not her EpiPen? It has her name on it. What the hell...? This is ridiculous. I’m going to write a letter—she could have died because of their incompetence.’
>
  Now he understood why the teacher had been just a little reluctant to hand over care. Cal stroked Ava’s hair again and watched her blink more alert. He turned to her mum, not caring what fuss she was making. ‘Now’s not the time. She’s getting better, but we’ll have to take her in for observation. There’s a chance she could have a rebound reaction.’

  ‘But the Epi—’

  ‘Let’s leave the mystery of the disappearing epinephrine ’til later, right? I totally understand why you’re upset, but she’s okay now and that’s the main thing. We can go over everything else when things are calmer. Now, let’s get her to the ambulance. You want to carry her? I can come alongside with the oxygen.’

  The mother opened her mouth, appeared to think better of what she was going to say, then nodded. ‘Yes. Thank you.’

  The ED was busy for a Monday afternoon, but he handed Ava and her very concerned mother over to Stephanie, wishing, not for the first time, that in this job he got to see how his cases panned out. It would be good to see this kid as her normal wee self, playing and giggling, or to see if she was as serious as her mum. But the chances of him seeing any of his cases in anything other than an emergency situation were dwindling with every day he spent here. Just under four weeks and he’d be gone, never setting foot in this place again.

  So it was probably a good job he didn’t allow himself to become emotionally involved after all.

  He was on his way out when he saw her. Actually, he heard her first—that lyrical voice over the beeps and coughs and cries that were the soundtrack of the ED—and he turned to her as if tugged by a magnet.

  She was laughing and talking to an old man who she was walking alongside, notes and X-rays in her hand. As if she sensed Cal watching her, she slowly turned and smiled. In amongst the stark, rigid edges of the no-fuss easy-to-clean ED furniture, the sharp antiseptic smells and raw life, that smile added a little softness. She was real and her empathy shone through, even in the most urgent of situations. Strange how his gut tightened instinctively. He wasn’t generally one to pay any attention to the state of his heart either, but it definitely sped a little faster right now.