The Nurse's Special Delivery Read online

  ‘I don’t need to be. It’s nothing. Just a bit of fun.’

  But Abbie wanted so much to tell her about the near-miss kiss and how looking at Cal gave her a fit of butterfly stretches so hard it made her tummy tickle. And how she liked the way he smelled. She wanted to be back being sixteen again, the two of them piling into her bedroom, jumping on the bed and spilling secrets. Did he put his arm around you? Open-mouth or closed-mouth kisses? How did he taste? How far did you go?

  She wanted the innocence and hopefulness of youth to wash through her, instead of knowing what she knew: that falling in love was lovely, but all it led to, in the end, was falling apart.

  And she couldn’t have that. Neither of them could.

  The class leader bustled into the room and grinned as they took their seats for the introduction. ‘Excellent, ladies and gents. I’ll just go over the plan for the afternoon...’

  It was all such bad timing. Emma had never thought she’d look at another man again and think...nice. She’d never thought she’d go on another date. Or start to heal her broken heart. Or that she wouldn’t be able to tell her best friend for life the way she was feeling because she didn’t want to break the spell. She wanted to hug this feeling to herself.

  But also, she didn’t want anything to come between her and Emma and the baby. They were a tight-knit little family, with Rosie. That was what they’d promised each other, after Alvin had gone, and after Michael.

  So she said nothing and grabbed a chocolate biscuit from the table next to her and Emma smiled, and they were fine.

  But Abbie wasn’t.

  Then the woman running the class clapped her hands and they were up and off on the tour, talking about birthing pools and gas and air. What to pack in the maternity overnight bag. When to call, who to call, what to expect.

  A quick look in the labour suite, then an equally quick exit as a woman was wheeled in in a wheelchair, screaming, ‘I need to push. Now!’ And the red-faced man with her asking for a vomit bowl. For himself.

  For a moment the group stood in silence, eyes wide and slightly panicked. Swiftly followed by little hiccups of giggles.

  In another suite, a brand-new baby had recently entered the world and let out a hearty little cry that completely broke the panicked spell. And they all grinned. Emma glanced over at Abbie and her eyes widened. ‘Feeling a little bit more real now?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ There was nothing more that Abbie wanted than to be here, heavily pregnant with Michael’s baby. But being here with Emma was a very close second best.

  ‘Well, feel this too. Kicking. Your baby’s a little soccer player.’ Emma grabbed Abbie’s hand and pressed it against her belly, as she’d done when she was pregnant with Rosie. There was such a softness in her eyes that Abbie thought she might cry.

  ‘Oh. Oh, my goodness. So he is.’ There was a raw thickness in Abbie’s throat, but her heart felt light and fluttery. This was real. This was what she’d wanted for so long, what she’d endured days of pain and injections and interventions and heartbreak for. This baby.

  This was what they had to look forward to.

  And she wasn’t going to let a sexy, blue-eyed Scotsman—saintly or otherwise—get in the way of that.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ‘THIS IS ERIC. He’s eighty-four and was involved in a motor vehicle-versus-truck accident over in Wanaka. Took a knock to the right side of the head on impact. Neck tender at C-three and four. Right chest and shoulder sore from seat belt. Suspected fractured right tib and fib. Right ankle was crushed so it took a little time to dig him out. He’s shaky and shocked but holding a decent BP all things considered. He’s had pain relief and is feeling a wee bit better if he keeps still. Moving’s the tough bit, eh, Eric?’

  Abbie would know that accent anywhere. Her heart flipped as she turned to see Cal in his red overalls and hi-vis. That voice had been distinctly absent for the past week and she’d decided, resolutely, that if she heard it again her heart would absolutely not flip.

  Traitor.

  She’d also decided not to look up the Scottish ridge accident on the Internet, even though she’d typed his name more than a dozen times and let her fingers hover over the return key. It wasn’t her business and she wasn’t about to start nosing around behind his back. If he wanted to tell her, then that was fine. If not, well, that would have to be fine too.

  The old man on the trolley looked familiar, although with the neck brace and facial bruising it was hard to tell. A quick glance at his surname and she knew they were neighbours. ‘I’ll give you a hand through to Resus.’ She nodded at Steph, taking the end of the gurney and wheeling him through, Cal following. Their patient was frail and shaking as she put her hand over the paper-thin skin of his knuckles. ‘Eric, it’s me, Abbie. From the apartments at the end of the road.’

  ‘Eh?’ Pale blue eyes darted to her and she thought he might just have relaxed a little bit. Good. Healing happened a lot more quickly if the patient wasn’t fighting the whole time.

  ‘I fed your cats when you were in last time. Remember?’

  Eric patted her hand. ‘Good...girl.’

  ‘You’ve had a bit of a bump.’ Glancing at his vital signs on the paramedics’ mobile monitor, she could see he wasn’t out of danger, and she was glad to have something to focus on that wasn’t a Scotsman with a nice smile. Still, she wished it hadn’t been someone she knew who’d had a head-to-head with a logging truck; Eric was lucky to have come out of that talking. ‘This is Stephanie and there’ll be a doctor through any second and they’ll get you sorted out. I just wanted to say hi and that you’re in safe hands.’

  ‘Thanks.’ His hand was cold and weak and she gave it a squeeze, found a blanket for him and started to attach him to hospital monitors.

  Once she’d explained he was headed for immediate surgery and a long stay she whispered to him, ‘Don’t you go worrying about the cats. I’ll pop round and feed them until you’re home. Don’t worry, I’ll sort them out. Key in the same place?’

  ‘Thank you. You’re gold, you know that, Abbie?’

  Cal’s eyes met hers across their patient and he smiled and nodded.

  She shook her head and laughed. She wasn’t gold, she was just doing what anyone else would do in the same situation. But she felt like gold bathed in Cal’s smile.

  Nixon, the ED consultant, bustled in then Cal left and she focused entirely on her patient’s care and not on the memory of that smile and the tingle skimming across her skin.

  ‘I’ll get straight onto the orthopaedic surgeons.’ After doing a quick assessment Nixon picked up the phone. ‘In the meantime, we’ll get more fluids into him and keep him comfortable with more pain relief. If you’re a neighbour, do you know his next of kin, Abbie?’

  ‘No, but he’s been in before, so it’ll be in his notes. A son, I think. In Dunedin.’

  ‘Excellent.’ Nixon finished his call and gave her a quick smile. ‘Hey, I just wondered...how’s Emma doing?’

  Unexpected. ‘She’s fine. Getting a bit tired these days. Why? Is there a problem?’

  Nixon shook his head and his face flushed a little. ‘No. No problem. I was just... Nothing. It’s okay.’ And with that he picked up the internal phone and started dialling. Conversation closed.

  She watched him for a minute and tried to work out what that had been about. Then she heard the dulcet tones of the ward clerk and the auxiliaries discussing the love lives of one of their colleagues and decided he was probably concerned about her being the subject of gossip. Or, more likely, concerned about her pulling her weight at work. Or...then the Arrest Code alarm went off and she put everything else bar saving lives to the back of her mind.

  * * *

  Later, as she was pulling on her coat at the end of her shift, she felt the little hairs on the back of her neck prickle and aware
ness ripple over her. Cal was close somewhere; she could sense it. Sure enough, he was outside the staff café talking to the helicopter pilot.

  She was going to try to sneak past and not allow her fluttering heart to take charge, but her words tumbled out before she could stop them. ‘Hey, Cal.’

  He ambled over, all smiles that sent ripples of need over her skin. ‘How’s young Eric?’

  ‘He’s a lot more comfortable now he’s back from Theatre.’

  He fell into step with her as they walked out into the bright sunshine. Queenstown was putting on a very summery attempt with a gentle warmth and pretty flowers in huge barrels along the pavement. Cal slipped on sunglasses that at once elevated him to rock-star status. ‘Do you often take on the feeding of other people’s animals when they’re in hospital? You don’t have to do that.’

  ‘I know, but it’s a small place, you know. We help each other out when we can.’

  ‘I know all about that. You can’t sneeze in Duncraggen without someone handing you a tissue. Where are we headed, by the way?’

  She hadn’t a clue, in all reality. ‘I’m going to the primary school to pick up Rosie. I don’t know where you’re going.’

  ‘Home, I guess. I’ll walk with you to the school—my car’s parked nearby.’

  ‘So you can regale me with the tale of Eric’s rescue along the way?’ And it felt stupidly and refreshingly normal to walk side by side across the car park. It was these little things she missed: having someone to talk to about what to have for dinner, the sweet peck on the nose for absolutely no reason, a hand to hold in the middle of the night, walking across a car park. Hell...she really hadn’t realised at what point grief had turned to loneliness, but now she felt acutely that Cal had slashed through all of that. He was filling her up with good feelings, but also turning the loneliness into a longing. A longing to be touched, held, kissed, and she wasn’t sure how to deal with that.

  After he’d talked about cutting Eric from the car he asked, ‘You got to your appointment in time on Tuesday?’

  ‘The visit to the maternity ward? Yes, thanks.’

  ‘How was it? You learnt how to have a baby?’

  She laughed, thinking about that poor man and the vomit bowl and his wife or girlfriend who was in the throes of labour. ‘We’ve been there before. Emma’s got a five-year-old—hence the school—so we know the drill. We have the birth plan and everything all agreed on.’

  The walk to the school took them past a little park that smelt of fresh spring blossom. Magnolias hung full and ripe and pink from spindly branches. Cal didn’t seem to notice any of it, maybe because it was just plain old pretty and not stunning snow-capped peaks. He seemed much more focused on her impending parenthood. ‘That must be interesting. I mean, what if she wanted something—drugs, or whatever—and you didn’t agree with that? How does all that work? Who’s in charge? This surrogacy thing raises a lot of questions, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Like, whether she’ll even give the baby up? What if there’s something wrong with it? Will I still want it? Yes, I know. It’s very complicated and wrought with questions and ethics. But bottom line, she’s helping me out and we know each other well enough to know how we feel about most things.’

  Emma was the only person who really knew what Abbie was going through, but it felt good to be able to share these thoughts—thoughts she’d kept away from Emma for fear of upsetting her—with someone removed from the situation. It felt a little disloyal, but he was a good sounding board, just letting her get her jumbled thoughts out without judging her.

  Whatever he thought about the surrogacy set-up he didn’t say, and she couldn’t read it from his body language, but he seemed to take it in his stride. ‘Something I’ve always wondered... Does she... Do you pay her?’

  ‘No, it’s an altruistic surrogacy. I’m not allowed, legally, to pay anything but her expenses.’

  ‘And then, afterwards...how do you see that panning out?’

  ‘She’ll always be involved, obviously. She’s my friend and she’s already brought up one baby—I’m going to need all the help I can get with that. Good thing we live next door to each other.’

  ‘What if you didn’t, though? What if you decided to move...I don’t know, to the other side of the world, for example. Or Australia. Or even Auckland?’

  They’d come to a halt as a taxi pulled away from a taxi rank. Abbie pressed the pedestrian crossing button and they waited for the red light. She was fighting the urge to slip her hand into his and feel his heat on her skin. ‘I would never move. I couldn’t. How could I? I’m the mother, but she’s so involved. It wouldn’t be fair to any of us to be separated. Why are you asking?’

  ‘Ach, I was just interested in how it all works.’

  ‘Queenstown is my home. I have my...memories here. I could never leave.’

  His eyes softened as he looked down at her ring. ‘Michael?’

  She rubbed her finger. Would she ever take this off? Could she? ‘Not just him. Everything I’ve ever known is here.’

  Cal shrugged, scrubbing a hand through his hair. ‘I couldn’t wait to leave Duncraggen. I wanted to see the world. Rule the world, if I’m honest. I was a cocky wee bairn, I have to admit.’

  ‘But you went back.’

  He stiffened. ‘Of course. He needs me.’

  How? Why? Maybe if she just looked on the Internet she’d know...but no. She was going to resist that temptation. It was his story to tell, if and when he wanted to. ‘Now you rule your small piece of Duncraggen.’

  There was a wink and a rueful grin. ‘Well, Finn believes he rules it, to be honest...but I just let him think that.’

  Abbie unlatched the school gate and dipped in to pick up Rosie. There she was, all pink-cheeked and a mass of dark curls causing the usual squeeze of Abbie’s heart. What this kid had been through, and been protected from, sometimes haunted her. Out of all the men in the world, Emma had somehow fallen for one of the bad ones. Ever since, she’d determined that the only person she was going to love unconditionally was her daughter. Oh, and Abbie...and their bun in the oven. Abbie wondered if she could possibly love her own child any more than she loved Rosie, and decided that that kind of love was simply unimaginable.

  ‘You can have five minutes to play before we go home; either the play park here, or the one near the house. One, Rosie. You can choose.’

  The little girl’s eyes narrowed as if she had to make a life-or-death decision. She looked over towards the park and the shiny slide, so much higher and better than the one closer to home. The choice was hardly difficult. ‘This one.’

  ‘Good choice. But no tears when we go past the other one.’

  ‘Okay, Abbie.’ Her eyes darted towards Cal. Luckily, with a couple of uncles close by, Rosie had had a lot of positive men in her life. ‘Who’s that?’

  ‘A friend of mine. This is Cal.’ Friend. It felt strange saying that, but that was what they were. Nothing more.

  He was leaning against the gate, hands stuffed deep in his pockets. He tugged one out and waved at Rosie. ‘Hi!’

  But the little one had lost interest and was careening towards the slide.

  What had they been talking about? Oh, yes. Finn. ‘So, how is your brother?’

  Sighing, he shook his head. ‘Don’t even ask.’

  ‘Not climbing mountains without your permission again?’

  He grimaced, shoulders stiff. ‘Planning a skiing trip. With one leg. I ask you.’

  Rosie slowly climbed each step, putting both feet on each rung as she went. Finally at the top she gave a little wave. Her smile splitting her face.

  ‘Hold on with both hands, sweetie.’ Abbie waved back and nodded encouragingly for her to sit down. Sweet, sweet girl. Then turned back to Cal. ‘You can’t protect him for ever.’

  ‘Why not?
’

  ‘How old is he?’

  ‘Twenty-seven.’

  She coughed, dragging her eyes away from little Rosie and back onto him. Childminding and chatting was serious multitasking. ‘Really? From the way you were talking I thought he must be under eighteen.’

  He shrugged. ‘You think I’m overprotective.’

  ‘I think you love him very much and don’t want him to get hurt again. But it’s his life, Cal. Let him take some risks.’

  ‘But what if...?’ He shook his head. ‘I know, I know. Well everything’s easy in theory.’

  How to say this without sounding hurtful? ‘I don’t know what your relationship with your brother is really like, okay? But I do know that when you hit adulthood things aren’t as basic as limiting a five-year-old to this park or that park. Your brother sounds like he was a pretty competent athlete before his accident, so I’d say he’s trying his damnedest to get back to some semblance of that. To get his life back. You want that, right?’

  ‘Of course. Yes, of course I do. But what if he—?’

  He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t imagine it, and she was glad he hadn’t had to face that kind of thing as she had. But, for Abbie, it was getting easier to say these things. It had been something that she couldn’t shy away from when reality hit. No amount of euphemisms would change the facts. ‘What if he dies? Then he’ll die doing something he loves.’ She put her hand on his arm and looked up at him, hoping he’d take this with as much kindness as she meant. ‘Let him live again, Cal.’

  ‘It’s not that easy.’

  ‘I know it isn’t. Believe me, I do understand. You want to wrap them up in cotton wool and save them from pain and hurt. Let me tell you something—’ She dragged in a deep breath. This wasn’t something she shared often, but she hoped it would help. ‘I spent so long trying to make Michael better, chasing cures and looking up miracle treatments on the Internet, that I forgot about spending good times with him. I just wanted him well so we could restart our life. I couldn’t think about the alternatives. But all I ended up doing was alienating him, pushing him to do things he didn’t want to do, trying different remedies, making him feel worse in the end, making him fight when he didn’t want to fight any more, when he was tired of all that brave talk. All he wanted was to spend his last months doing fun things and being surrounded by love, but I was on a crack hunt for a cure and couldn’t rest until I found one. It wasn’t him who didn’t have a bucket list, it was me who wouldn’t let him.’