Remnants of the Heart (Winds of Change Book 3)

by Kristen M. Fraser

  “Why didn’t you call me?” Sophie barged into the room. “Oh, hi Dr Marshall.” She paused at the side of the bed, frowning briefly.

  “Sophie.” He nodded before continuing Jarrod’s physical exam.

  “I tried,” Brad said. “There was no answer, so I left a message with someone here.”

  “Is he okay?” Sophie peered into the crib. Brad shrugged. Other than a few murmurs to the nurse who’d admitted them and a round of twenty questions in which Brad felt like he’d performed dismally, he had no idea.

  “Croup.” Dr Marshall readjusted the stethoscope around his neck.

  “What?” Brad glanced at Sophie for an explanation. It was all well and good for two medical personnel to discuss things, but he needed layman’s terms. Something easy to understand.

  “Croup. It’s a virus that causes swelling in the voice box and windpipe, which in turn makes it difficult to breathe. The barking cough is caused by the narrow airways,” Sophie said.

  “And how can we treat it?”

  “We’ll give him a single dose of steroids to reduce the swelling. But at home, try and encourage him to drink. You could also try a humidifier, which can help open up the airways.” Dr Marshall rested his hands on the end of the bed. “The cough can last for weeks, so don’t be too alarmed. If he doesn’t improve or if his condition gets any worse, come back.” With an abrupt nod, he turned on his heel and walked out.

  Brad blinked after him. “He’s got a pathetic bedside manner. And he works with children?”

  “Don’t worry about him.” Sophie rolled her eyes and shoved Brad’s legs aside so she could sit on the bed. “He’s not too bad.”

  Brad quirked an eyebrow at her. “He didn’t give me a chance to ask any questions.”

  “Would you have?” She leaned her head on his shoulder.

  “No.”

  “Well, there you go. Don’t worry about him.”

  Brad chuckled. He knew Sophie would have the answers if he needed them. His wingwoman. She’d always played that role well. And as they sat side-by-side on the bed, with Jarrod settled in the crib, the solidarity between them comforted him.

  Chapter 21

  Hannah signed her name on the progress note and closed the file. The consult had gone well, and she would hand it over to Miles in the morning. Glancing at her watch, she cringed at the time. The late call to the ER meant she hadn’t taken Louie out for a walk like she usually did. She only hoped he wasn’t too bored and tearing up the garden without her being home.

  As she grabbed her bag, a flash of blonde hair disappearing into one of the nearby rooms caught her eye. Her gaze drifted through the window and landed on Brad sitting up in the bed. A baby was in the cot beside him, and a heart rate monitor was attached to his tiny body. Her heart plummeted at Brad’s shadowed features. His creased brow. His thin lips.

  After one of the doctors exited the room, she made her way over and rapped on the window. “Knock, knock.” She waited to be invited in before stepping to the end of the bed. “I hope I’m not intruding. I saw you through the window and thought I’d pop over. I hope everything’s okay with your nephew.”

  Sophie’s head whipped to Brad, and Hannah glimpsed the exchange of worried glances.

  “He’s doing better now,” Brad said, briefly meeting her gaze before turning to look at the baby’s sleeping form.

  “The doctor diagnosed croup, but hopefully with a small dose of steroids, and the humidifier, he’ll be good,” Sophie informed her.

  “That’s good to hear. It must be scary when they’re sick. They’re so tiny and helpless.” She smiled softly at Brad, but he seemed to look straight through her. She glanced at Sophie who was looking down at the ground, her hands tucked into the pockets of her scrubs. The atmosphere was thick with tension, and she suddenly felt she was interrupting something between the siblings. “Well, I’d best be going. I’ll leave you two to catch up.” She offered a meek smile before turning on her heels and exiting the room.

  Hurt clutched at her heart as she strode through the busy ER. The noise of machines pinging, doctors barking orders, and telephones ringing weren’t enough to drown out the confusion penetrating her mind. Why had Brad ignored her? It seemed as though he didn’t want her there at all. Was this his way of saying he didn’t want to see her anymore? Was he giving her the silent treatment so she would get the hint and leave him alone?

  “Hannah, do you have a moment?” Sophie called, her soft-soled shoes squeaking on the linoleum as she ran to catch up.

  “Sure.” She’d finished her work for the evening and had nothing else to do except go home to Louie and nurse her wounded heart.

  A linen trolley bustled past, and the women moved into an empty corridor, away from the commotion of the ER. Sophie peered down at her hands, twisting her fingers together.

  “Brad hasn’t told you, has he?”

  Hannah’s heart lurched as she slowly shook her head. “Told me what?”

  “He’s going to be so mad,” Sophie murmured under her breath. A voice called over the speaker for Doctor Ryan to attend the resuscitation bay, drowning out Sophie’s other mumblings.

  Clutching the straps of her purse, Hannah waited for Sophie to continue.

  “Maybe wait for Brad to tell me whatever it is,” she said, not wanting to cause any strife between the siblings.

  “No!” Sophie turned abruptly, her eyes blazing with determination. “No. If we wait for Brad to be ready, it will never happen.”

  Resting one foot against the wall, Sophie folded her arms across her chest and arched her neck to the ceiling. “Jarrod is … Brad’s son.”

  “I … I don’t understand.” His son? He’d lied to her?

  “I know it’s a lot for you to take in, and I probably shouldn’t have said anything. If you want some time to talk to Brad …”

  “No.” Feeling like the ground had been ripped from underneath her, Hannah held up a hand and shook her head. “No. I’ve got to go. I hope Jarrod’s okay.” With a tight-lipped smile, she turned and walked away, clenching her jaw to keep the tears at bay as Sophie’s words stabbed at her heart.

  The baby was Brad’s? The one he’d stated was Sophie’s nephew? Well, that part was true. But why had he lied? Why didn’t he tell her he was involved with someone else? Is that why he’d been so distant? Because he didn’t want her finding out?

  Tears clouded her vision as she drove home. Just when she thought the sun was starting to shine after years of dark clouds looming over her, the spark of something new had been snuffed out. The thrill of a new relationship had been wonderful. But now, she felt foolish. How could she have let herself get swept away by the first guy that had shown any interest in her since Josh passed away? At least Louie wouldn’t let her down. Or God. She needed to remember that.

  Oh, Lord. Why would Brad lie? And why did I let myself fall for him? Why did I get involved with someone who hasn’t realised his need for You? And why have I fallen for someone who’s involved with another woman? That’s the absolute worst. Forgive me, Lord.

  She’d tried to guard her heart knowing that God needed to work in Brad’s life and heal his heart. But to have fallen for someone involved with another woman filled her with remorse and shame. It went against all her morals and beliefs and left her feeling ill. She had become the other woman.

  Brad was the first man since Josh who’d elevated her heart rate and elicited a spark of attraction. She’d fallen for his charm, and in return, he’d crushed her already-fragile heart.

  Chapter 22

  “I don’t get you, Brad,” Sophie said as soon as he stepped into the living room. After settling Jarrod in his cot and turning on the baby monitor, he was looking forward to calling it a night. The last twenty-four hours at the hospital had been exhausting, and he longed to collapse into bed. He could easily sleep for a week. Instead, his sister looked ready to pick a fight.

  “Why didn’t you tell Hannah the truth?”

  “I coul
dn’t.” He sank into the armchair, kicking his legs out in front of him.

  “Why not? I can’t believe she thought Jarrod was somehow related to me!”

  “He is.” Brad glared at his sister. “He is your nephew. Hannah already knows that.”

  “But she didn’t know he’s my nephew because he’s your son. That’s kind of a big deal.”

  Leaning forward, Brad shook his head. Sophie paced in front of the windows, shooting glares his way, before eventually perching on the arm of the couch. The ticking clock on the timber hutch thundered in the silence as her gaze pinned him in place. He knew the look on her face. It was the same one his mother used to give him. The same one Abigail had perfected as well. What was it with the Tolbrook women and their guilt-inducing glares? He clasped his hands together, bracing for the barrage of criticism as she voiced her disappointment.

  “I don’t understand you at times. Why didn’t you tell Hannah the truth?”

  “Because I didn’t want to blow my chance with her,” he blurted. The words sounded ridiculous to his own ears because he’d done exactly that. Stuffed up any possible chance with the one woman who’d encouraged him to feel again. “I didn’t want her to judge me or get scared off by the fact that I’m a dad.”

  Sophie slowly shook her head. She may as well have thrown in a tsk-tsk to add to her scolding. “When will you ever learn, big brother?”

  He waited for the dressing down. The usual – when will you just man up and be an adult? Not that anyone had ever said that outright, but they didn’t need to. He’d disappointed his family for as long as he could remember.

  “Hannah Macrae is the sweetest, most genuine, most non-judgemental person I’ve met. And if you think she’s going to judge you for …” Sophie waved a hand around, as if to demonstrate his long list of failings, “you’re wrong. You need to talk to her.”

  And with those words hanging in the air, she grabbed her overnight bag and swept out of the living room, leaving Brad alone with his thoughts, wondering how he was going to unravel the mess he’d created.

  Chapter 23

  The next two weeks left Hannah questioning her attraction toward Brad and their burgeoning relationship. Hurt by his lie of omission and his ongoing silence, she spent her spare moments walking with Louie, exploring the sandy beaches and rock pools of Sandwater Bay. Long walks along the headland with unhindered views of the ocean filled her with peace and stilled her tumultuous thoughts. Once home, she buried herself in work and reading up on the latest research on counselling therapies. It was better than pining away and ruing over her colossal mistake of falling for a man who was already taken. Keeping busy kept her mind off the hurt and shame that lingered in her heart.

  Tania had suggested she wait for Brad to reach out to her. It had taken so much self-control to not pick up her phone to call or even text him. As much as she tried to not think about him, she missed him. She missed the anticipation of a new relationship. She missed his friendship, but she didn’t want to confuse loneliness with misplaced feelings.

  Mid-week, Hannah took an extra counselling session at the hospital. Miles had another meeting to attend, and she didn’t mind filling in for him. She had no other plans, other than long walks along the shore with Louie, and it meant she could focus on something else, on other people’s issues, rather than her own which would lead to melancholy and a pity party for one.

  “If you have any questions, or want to make an individual appointment, please speak to me afterwards.” Hannah concluded the session, thanking the small group for coming and wishing them safe travels home. She jotted a few notes down for Miles as the group began to leave.

  “Excuse me.” A petite grey-haired woman approached. The sticky name tag clinging to the green fibres of her cardigan read, Fay. From the introductions at the start of the session, Hannah recalled Fay had recently lost her husband after a long battle with cancer. With tears in her eyes, she’d shared with the group how she’d nursed him until his last breath. “Thank you for tonight. I haven’t come to many sessions because I’ve been too scared. But you made me feel so welcome, and I didn’t feel so alone with my problems. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, Fay. And I’m glad you had the courage to come. Perhaps I’ll see you again.” Hannah’s heart warmed as the woman bid her goodnight. This was why she did what she did. This was why she’d invested years into studying and spent hours poring over current research. To help others. To reassure them they weren’t alone. To show them that they were courageous. And to show them life could go on.

  “Hannah.”

  At the sound of the deep voice at the entrance to the chapel, she stilled. Turning around, she silently prayed for God to give her wisdom and discernment. Her treacherous heart flipped about when she laid eyes on the man standing in the doorway. He was unshaven, and shadows darkened his eyes. Clutching a small bouquet wrapped in white paper, he stepped into the chapel.

  “Brad.” It was all she could manage as conflicting emotions wrestled for clarity.

  “Is now a good time to be here?”

  “If you’ll give me a minute, I’ve got a few things to pack up.” Turning away, she released a breath. Why was he here? She felt his gaze on her as she moved about the room, taking her time to pack her belongings away, delaying the impending conversation. Finally, with everything in its right place, she plastered on a smile.

  “What can I help you with?” It was her professional voice. One she used to place a barrier between herself and her clients to protect her emotions. She needed one now to stop herself from feeling anything toward this man.

  Silence stretched out between them, a vast chasm of hurt and unanswered questions and longing. Brad’s gaze shifted to the ground.

  “This is the most hideous carpet I’ve seen.”

  Hannah blinked, and it took a moment for his words to sink in before a nervous bubble of laughter escaped. “It is, isn’t it? I remember thinking that the first time I came here. What were the designers thinking with red and green? It’s not exactly calming.” Her gaze drifted up. Warmth, apology, sorrow, and humility stared back at her from the depths of his amber eyes.

  “These are for you.” He handed her the bouquet of blush-coloured baby roses, and she lifted them to her nose, inhaling the sweet, musky scent.

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m sorry, Hannah,” he blurted. “I’m sorry for not being honest with you. I’ve got no other explanation other than admitting I was scared.”

  She placed the flowers next to her satchel and gestured toward the chairs. Brad sat in the last row, while she sat in front and turned to face him. Scanning his forlorn appearance, it would be so easy to switch into counsellor mode and offer advice, but he was trusting her to hear him out as a friend, or whatever it was they were.

  The glass doors to the chapel were closed, but they were in full view of anyone walking past. Hopefully, they wouldn’t be disturbed.

  Brad held out his hands and looked into his palms, as though they would somehow give him the right words to say. His shoulders shook with the sharp intake of a jagged breath. “I’m not the best guy, Hannah.”

  “Brad …” She lifted a hand to reach out to him, but rested it on the chair instead, not wanting the touch of his skin to distract her from his words.

  “Please, Hannah. Hear me out.”

  She nodded for him to continue.

  “I haven’t exactly had the best track record with relationships. Since my father passed away, I’ve coped, or not coped,” he gave a harsh, self-deprecating laugh, “by making choices that have gone against my upbringing and the beliefs of my family.”

  “You’re an adult, Brad,” Hannah said softly. “Your parents don’t make those decisions anymore.” She’d counselled many people over the years who, even as adults, lived with parental expectations burdening them.

  “I know, but I’ve never lived up to the standard they set. The good Christian guy who should do everything right. I’ve always been the
black sheep. The preacher’s kid who would sneak off to parties, or the one who was always getting detention. I’m the reason my mum has white hair.”

  “White hair is a sign of wisdom.” She gave a soft smile.

  Brad gave her a derisive look. “I’m also embarrassed to admit that alcohol has been my crutch for too long. Along with many casual relationships. I was in a relationship with Jarrod’s mother for a couple of years, but it was only a bit of fun, if you could call it that. Something to pass away the time. Something to get my mind off Dad’s death. I could never see a future with her. I feel awful for admitting that, and for treating her so badly, but we were never good for each other. Anyway, I never expected to see her again after I ended things for good. Imagine my surprise when she turned up on my doorstep with Jarrod.”

  Hannah could only nod at the mention of the other woman. A sense of relief swept through her with the knowledge he wasn’t married, or involved with someone else. But she also felt a small stab of disappointment that he’d used sex and booze to bury his grief. What a mess. And what a contrast to Josh, a straight-laced Christian man who’d loved God with his whole heart. Who’d served faithfully in their church and had even contemplated theology college in his future. They’d vowed to be obedient to God’s word in saving sexual intimacy for marriage, whereas it seemed Brad had frivolously sowed his wild oats and had done so without any consideration for emotions or long-term consequences. She wasn’t judging his choices, because everyone handled grief differently. But she couldn’t understand how she could feel something toward him when he was so different from the man she’d been engaged to.

  Oh, Lord. Help me to guard my heart and my feelings for this man. Help me to discern Your path. Help me to listen to Brad without judgement, and give me words of encouragement to speak into his life. You make all things new, Lord, and I pray that You can work in his life to renew his heart. If I’m meant to be a part of that, then give me wisdom.