by Sue MacKay
The cubicle curtains swished open, revealing a confident Kieran with a boggle-eyed Barbara in tow. Another victim. Careful, or you’ll be dribbling. Abby sighed. As if she could talk. From the moment she’d met Kieran she’d fallen under his spell. Even if he hadn’t been so good looking and sexy, he only had to open his mouth and speak in that lyrical accent and her knees weakened.
‘I hear some stitches are required.’ Kieran spoke into the sudden quiet.
There, just as she’d thought. The Irish lilt. Her knees were ready to dump her on the floor, despite her wariness of him. ‘Darren, this is Dr Flynn. Darren’s one of our regulars. I’m just going to get his file. I want to check on something. Barbara can assist you, Doctor.’
His brow creased but he didn’t try to stop her leaving the cubicle that felt as small as a kennel with five people crammed in there. Especially with Kieran present, all the air seemed to have disappeared. She needed to put space between them before she became a brainless ninny. She’d better get over herself. And especially get over Kieran. At least the accusatory tone Kieran had directed as he’d left her house had gone, no doubt put aside for a more suitable time.
Darren’s file lay in the in-tray at the nurses’ station. Sinking onto a chair, she read through the notes recording a previous broken arm, and on three separate occasions he’d had cuts requiring stitches. No mention of bruising. So why the excessive bruising today? Her heart slowed. She didn’t like to think about what the sudden onset of severe bruising could mean.
Pete sat down beside her to write up notes on his patient. Peering at her file, he asked, ‘Why are you interested in that?’
‘That Darren’s file?’ Kieran asked from above her.
‘Yes.’ How had she missed his approach? She thought she had extra-supersensory feelings whenever Kieran was around. Looking up, she saw him watching her intently. What did he see? Someone suitable to bring up his niece? And his son? Or a woman who he’d once enjoyed a few special hours with? What did he remember of that night in Dublin?
‘Are you worried about Darren? You seem a little distracted.’
Of course she was distracted. Who wouldn’t be in the circumstances? With a flick of her ponytail she focused on their patient.
‘I’m not sure. Darren falls off his skateboard a lot. But I can’t find any record here of severe bruising associated with previous injuries. He’s got bruises in more places than I’d expect from this morning’s accident.’
Pete said, ‘He’s a boy. Of course he’s always falling off and getting bruised. Nothing sinister there.’
But Kieran took her doubts seriously. ‘Are you worried that there might be a medical cause?’
‘Yes. I think we should be investigating further.’ She didn’t go as far as to say what tests she’d do if it was up to her. Occasionally even she knew when to keep quiet.
Pete muttered, ‘If Dr Flynn has checked him out, why are you concerned?’
‘Abigail has a valid point. Darren’s bruising is abnormal. It doesn’t hurt to take another look. Better to find she’s wrong than send the boy away with an illness we overlooked. Always listen to your staff. They see things you might not.’
Abby knew Pete would give her a hard time about this later, but it felt good to have her concerns taken seriously. After all, she did have some knowledge about these things.
‘I’m going to take a blood sample from Darren. Clotting factors and a blood count. Is that what you had in mind?’ Kieran cocked an eyebrow at her.
‘Yes. But I hope I’m wrong about the diagnosis I’m considering.’
Unfortunately she wasn’t. The lab rang within an hour.
‘Darren has leukaemia.’ Kieran’s jaw tightened. ‘We’re sending him to Day Stay for a pathologist to do a bone-marrow aspiration to determine the type.’
Abby’s heart squeezed for Darren and his father. Their lives were about to be turned upside down and inside out. Their situation was unimaginable for any parent.
‘I’d better go and tell Jim.’ Kieran stood as though glued to the floor. His hand dragged down his cheek. ‘I hate this part of the job.’ Then he muttered something like, ‘And today it seems worse.’
‘Want me to come with you? Or sit with Darren while you take his father to your office?’ Abby didn’t know how she’d cope if anyone ever had to tell her something as devastating about Seamus or Olivia.
‘How does a parent deal with this?’ Kieran croaked.
She shivered. ‘Let’s hope we never have to find out.’
Telling Jim Shore that his fun-loving son was gravely ill and needed more tests had been one of the hardest things Kieran had ever had to do.
For some inexplicable reason young Darren’s plight rocked him on a deep personal level. For the first time during his career as an emergency specialist the sense of regret and pain for his patient felt too close. He couldn’t understand his feelings, but they were very real. He’d always found this side of his job hard but today was especially difficult.
Other patients awaiting his attention gave him a much-needed distraction. But later, when the pathologist phoned down as a matter of courtesy to tell him that the bone-marrow results showed acute lymphoblastic leukaemia, Kieran’s head spun. Even though he’d been expecting the result, he found it difficult to accept. He’d known what the initial results meant. But Darren was a child, a happy boy full of life.
Just like Seamus. What if something like this happened to his little boy? Would he survive the pain of watching his son becoming extremely ill? How did a man cope as he watched his child being put through intensive and painful treatment?
Abby touched his shoulder lightly. ‘Are you all right? I saw you on the phone.’
He shook his head. ‘That was the pathologist confirming Darren has ALL.’
Sadness and horror filled Abby’s eyes before she quickly turned away, murmuring, ‘These are the days I hate my job.’
‘I know what you mean.’ But today felt worse than ever before. Today he understood on a deeper level what Jim Shore might be feeling. And it was sure to be a lot worse than Kieran could imagine. A band of pain throbbed in the back of his head.
Abby said, ‘I feel like rushing to the crèche and hugging the kids tight, to reassure myself they’re fine and that nothing can touch them.’
‘A natural response, I’d have thought.’ He squeezed her hand before moving away. ‘Take five to go and see them.’
‘Are you sure?’ Her eyes widened. Surprised he could be so understanding?
‘Absolutely.’ Well, he surprised himself at his sense of helplessness right now. The only thing he could think to do was send Abby to see the children.
Her smile was thanks enough. ‘Come with me. Seeing the kids might make you feel a bit better.’
He shook his head. ‘No, I’m needed here.’ As head of the department, how would it look to the staff if he went charging off to see his niece just because of the diagnosis on one of his patients? Damn it, they’d be sending him home in no time at all.
He tried not to watch Abby as she raced away. The ultimate mother with all the right instincts. Could he even come close to that as an uncle or father? Vulnerability squeezed his gut. Sweat pricked his skin. Despite his denials, those two children were already overtaking his determination to remain aloof.
Did that mean he’d begun accepting he had a son? With all the connotations of what that meant? No. It was far too soon for him to be ready. He would never be ready. But the control he had over his life was rapidly becoming a myth.
HOPE. The sign flashed by, and this time Kieran didn’t even slow down. He didn’t know why the compulsion to see Olivia and Seamus felt so strong, didn’t understand the need to reassure himself they were healthy and happy.
To be sure, he knew they were all of those things and more. But he had to see for himself. His hands gripped the steering-wheel, stones flicked up as he braked hard outside Abby’s cottage. Abby. How did he explain his mad rush from town at nine o�
��clock at night? She’d think he’d gone crazy.
But it was almost as though she’d expected him if the lack of surprise in those expressive eyes was anything to go by. ‘Hey, want a coffee? I’ve just made a plunger full.’
‘That would be lovely. But don’t move. I’ll get it.’
What was really lovely was Abby. Her legs were curled under her bottom as she sat in an old rocker on the veranda. A magazine lay open on her lap, her hair spilling around her face, her hands lightly holding her mug. Her soft mouth relaxed into a welcoming smile. The efficient, serious nurse he’d worked beside that day had been put away for the night.
‘Thanks. You know where everything is. I’m catching the last of the sun now that the kids are asleep.’
His heart lurched. Disappointment warred with relief. Olivia and Seamus were asleep. He could take a quick peek and get out of here. Forget the coffee. It would keep him awake half the night anyway.
Olivia slept under a light sheet, lying on her back with Teddy clasped to her side in a headlock. Her curls dark against her pale Irish skin. Kieran leaned against the doorframe and watched her. Again he was stunned at the likeness to his sister. Looking at Olivia felt like Morag was still with him. He wanted to talk to his sister, tell her he missed her, explain that Olivia was gorgeous, happy and well cared-for and that she mustn’t worry about her.
Kieran shut his eyes, squeezed the bridge of his nose. He could not be tearing up. Not now, not when he’d done his grieving two years earlier. He’d come out here to see the children, not to let the past grip him in a wave of nostalgia. He blinked, sniffed. And stepped up to the bed, bent over and kissed Olivia’s forehead. Softly.
‘Thank goodness you’re safe,’ he whispered.
As he straightened up he noticed the collage of photos adorning one of the walls. Morag. David. Olivia. The three of them in different poses—laughing, serious, waving, playing. In the half-light from the doorway Kieran studied every photo thoroughly, his heart feeling as though it was breaking. It was wrong for those two to have died. Abby was doing her best to make up for Olivia’s loss but the child would never really know her real parents.
He turned to gaze at his niece again. And fought off the tears once more. ‘Goodnight, little one.’
He backed quietly out of the room. He’d just take a quick look in on Seamus and go.
Seamus was a restless sleeper. His feet moved almost continuously, and his hands plucked at the sheet, pulling it in every direction. His stuffed toy, a monkey, lay on the floor. He looked so like the Flynns with his colouring and features that Kieran’s heart swelled. With pride? Not likely. How could he be proud of a child he didn’t want to acknowledge? He didn’t mean the biological ownership. He was definitely this little guy’s dad in that respect.
But Abby was a part of Seamus, too. It showed in his easygoing temperament, his enquiring mind and gurgling laugh.
This is a one-year-old. How can you possibly tell so much about his personality at that age? You’re looking for things in the kid, making them up as you go along.
Was he? Kieran’s hands fisted in his pockets and he rolled on and off the balls of his feet while his gaze never left the infant. Looking for more characteristics to attribute to Abby? Making Seamus more of a Brown than a Flynn? Pushing the kid further away? Trying to justify himself when moments ago he’d thought it a tragedy that Olivia didn’t know her parents?
But Seamus had met him, would always know him, albeit distantly. In this case, that was best for Seamus. Far, far better than being hurt by lack of love.
He bit his upper lip. Time to go. The children were as happy and healthy as he’d expect them to be. Abby made sure of that as far as it was humanly possible. As a doctor he understood nothing could be done to prevent a tragedy such as Darren Shore’s occurring. As an uncle he felt there had to be something he could do. As a parent? A hollow feeling in the pit of his gut gave him no answers. Except to make him feel worse than ever.
It was impossible to leave. His feet were glued to the floor as he watched Seamus sleeping. When he did finally leave the cramped bedroom Abby had moved inside to watch television and darkness had settled outside.
‘Everything okay?’ Abby asked as he hesitated in her lounge doorway.
‘Exactly as I’d expected.’ Except for his own messy emotions, which weren’t listening to him when he tried to take control and get on with what he’d come here for. To run an emergency department.
CHAPTER SIX
IT SEEMED Kieran couldn’t stay away. Surprising Abby, he turned up at the cottage on Friday after work moments after Steph and her boyfriend, Andrew, arrived.
Olivia charged him down as he stepped onto the small veranda, insisting he pick her up. He hesitated before bending to swing her up into his arms. Olivia giggled nonstop. Her vise-like grip around his neck made him wince. But at least he was playing the game and trying to please his niece.
Abby grinned. ‘Guess you’ll be wanting a beer, too.’
‘Sure thing.’ Kieran turned to Steph and gave her an awkward hug with Olivia stuck between them. ‘It’s great to see you again. Is Charlie here, too?’
‘Not yet, but I’m sure she won’t be far away.’ Steph turned to Andrew and made the introductions.
Abby dragged out the stack of hard plastic deck chairs from the laundry.
‘Let me take those,’ Kieran said from behind her.
She nearly leapt off the floor. She hadn’t heard him following her. ‘Thanks.’ She could get used to having someone do things for her.
He carefully put Olivia down and picked up the stack with ease, then asked in a nonchalant tone, ‘Where’s Seamus?’
Yes! He’d asked after his son. Triumph spurted through Abby. A very small step but, in her book, a step nonetheless. ‘With Dad, shifting the irrigation pump.’
‘He’s quite the little man, isn’t he?’ Kieran commented, and carried the chairs out to the veranda. ‘Where’s that beer? A man could die of thirst around here.’
Abby watched Kieran as he separated the chairs and passed them around. He was totally at ease, very different from the serious professional she worked with during the day. A bit like herself, she supposed. As he tipped a bottle to his lips her stomach muscles cramped. He was so darned sexy. To say nothing about his good looks. No wonder she’d never forgotten that night with him. He’d marked her for life.
What did he see when he looked at her? A harried mother and aunt? He wouldn’t be impressed with the shapeless clothes she wore to hide what Phillip had often derisively called her fat body.
Those soul-destroying words still hurt. Words that had finished off any desire for marriage or even a long-term relationship. Phillip had dashed her trust completely, making her wise up to the dangers of falling in love. Like Kieran, he’d been charming and fun to be with initially. Then the snide comments about her body shape, her clothes, her hair, her everything had begun. Finding him in bed with her then closest friend had shattered her. Within twenty-four hours she’d returned home, taking nothing with her except a broken heart. And a wedding to cancel.
‘Hope there’s a cold one for me,’ her dad called out as he came through the orchard, swinging Seamus down from his shoulders. ‘It’s got to be thirty degrees out here.’
Abby watched as Seamus headed straight for Kieran. The surprise on Kieran’s face was a nice change from his usual wariness. Then Seamus grabbed at Kieran’s knee-length shorts with his grubby hands, and she laughed out loud. ‘Hope they’re not your best pair.’
His smile was wry, but at least he did smile. ‘They are now my “meet Seamus” pair.’
He might be way out of his comfort zone but he was trying, and that pleased her, eased some of the permanent tension making her edgy these days. If he kept this up, soon he’d be a part of the Brown clan, always welcome, always included in the happenings of the family.
But she had to remember not to get any closer to him. He might be the father of her son, but that’s
as far as it could go. As far as she could afford to let it go. So there, hormones, behave. Concentrate on helping Kieran learn to love the children. Forget everything else.
A car pulled up on the roadside and Charlie appeared, carrying a grocery bag. ‘Hi, everyone. Hope you’re hungry, I’ve got a ton of steak and sausages here.’
These were the nights Abby loved, when all her family got together for an impromptu meal. Seamus followed her as she headed into the kitchen to make a salad and put potatoes into the oven to bake.
‘Don’t you ever stop working?’ Kieran asked from the doorway, a frown crinkling his forehead.
‘I gave the maid the night off,’ she quipped, refusing to take his question seriously.
‘Anything I can do?’
‘You could see if anyone wants another drink.’ Just then Seamus tugged the bottle opener from the table. ‘That’s my boy. Give it to Daddy.’
Kieran gasped. ‘What did you say?’
The air whooshed out of her lungs. Where had that come from? She’d intended discussing with Kieran what she should call him when talking to Seamus before she mentioned the D word. She stared at Kieran aghast. He looked as shocked as she felt. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I …’
She spun around to the bench, staring at her shaking hands as she tried to pick up a knife to slice the tomatoes.
He’d never talk to her again. At least not for the rest of the evening even if he stayed now.
‘Abby, it’s all right.’ Kieran’s hand touched her shoulder, pressured her to turn to face him. ‘I should have a name and I guess I am Seamus’s father.’
Seamus bumped between their legs, startling them both into looking down. He held the opener up to Kieran. Shock drained the colour from Kieran’s cheeks. ‘Did he really understand you? Does he know I’m his father?’
Kieran stared at his son, speechless. Then slowly crouched down and took the opener in one hand. He ran the other hand over Seamus’s head, and whispered, ‘Thanks, boyo.’