Her Brooding Italian Surgeon

by Fiona Lowe

‘Time is irrelevant and that’s not what I asked. Do you love her?’

  Leo filled another bag. ‘I admire her.’

  ‘Admire her?’ His father trembled with anger but he didn’t roar. His controlled voice was ten times worse. ‘This from the man who’s been in her bed for weeks?’

  ‘Don’t censure me on this, Papà. We’re two consenting, mature adults who knew what we were doing.’

  ‘Obviously.’ Stefano’s hands rose high in the air. ‘And now there is a child. A Costa! Family.’

  Leo matched his father’s glare. ‘And I’m willing to give it a good shot to see if I can make something that was never planned work, but she refuses.’

  ‘You told Abbie this? Can you hear yourself?’

  I can’t promise you anything. His own bald words deafened him and he fought against them. ‘I offered her the opportunity to try. What’s love, anyway, but an overrated word?’

  ‘If that’s what you believe, then I have let you down badly.’ A sigh shuddered through Stefano. ‘For years I’ve accepted you are a man and I’ve let you make your own way, hoping you would learn, but you’ve stayed away, replaced real connections with superficial ones and locked the family and love out of your life. It is lonely, sì?’

  Leo wanted to scream, No, but he heard Abbie’s voice echoing in his head. Your guilt…it’s holding you apart from everyone who loves you.

  His father pressed on. ‘So I tell you now what I should have told you years ago. Loving someone isn’t comfortable or easy, but she’s the last person you think of when you fall asleep, the first person you think of when you wake up, and she’s the person you want to share your day with, good or bad. She’s the woman who annoys you to the point where you don’t know if you want to yell at her or kiss her until the earth moves.’

  Images and voices hammered him. Abbie in his arms, the intellectual arguments, the passionate sex and the snatches of contentment he’d never known before. Was that love?

  Stefano fixed Leo with a look filled with the wisdom of life’s hard lessons. ‘But, most importantly, love is the woman who doesn’t tell you what you want to hear but what you need to hear. With a woman like that by your side, then you know you are truly loved.’

  You used me and work to try and forget.

  It’s not a fulfilled life, though, is it?

  He broke out in a sweat. From the moment they’d met, Abbie hadn’t let him get away with anything. She’d seen through every excuse and challenged him on everything he believed about himself. And she’d been right. He’d been hiding behind an accomplished career, believing that gave him a fulfilled life. But it gave him half a life and the rest was a thin veneer of perceived success that covered a giant empty cavern.

  It had taken coming home and meeting her to finally face the truth. He needed her.

  I love her. Oh, God, he loved her. What sort of fool was he that he’d loved a woman for weeks and had no clue?

  And he’d thrown her precious love for him back at her in the worst way possible.

  I deserve better than that. I won’t live under that threat.

  His heart broke open. Abbie, with her tilted chin, her caramel curls and her generous heart had stood her ground against his fears and her own and yet at the same time had tried valiantly to fight for him. For his messed-up, damaged heart.

  And he hadn’t fought for her.

  He’d acted just like the bastards who’d passed through her life, taking what he wanted from her and then pushing her away with his half-baked attempt at duty. The words, ‘give it a good shot’ rang in his head. His gut clenched. No wonder she’d walked out on him. He’d forced her to go, pushing away the best thing that had ever happened to him.

  The love of his life.

  He ran his hands through his hair, the past still holding him hostage. ‘What if I stuff it up again?’

  His father gave him a cryptic smile. ‘Adults take risks, Leo. Make peace with yourself and open yourself up to the love of a good woman.’

  ‘If she’ll have me.’

  Stefano nodded. ‘That I can’t answer. All I can say is—go now and build bridges to her heart.’

  Leo didn’t have to be told twice.

  ‘What do you think, Murph?’ Abbie had the windscreen wipers on full pelt and even then she could hardly see through the rain. ‘This is our only choice now Old Man Creek’s flooded.’ She was on her way back from the Castertons, having started Hugh on antibiotics for a perforated eardrum. Poor kid; he’d been in a lot of pain. ‘I guess we just keep going, taking it slowly.’

  She changed into low gear, giving thanks she had the full tread of four-wheel drive wheels giving her traction against the slippery gravel that resembled a river of red mud more than a road. She wished she was home. Or already back at the clinic. It wasn’t just that the road conditions were treacherous but, given a choice, she wouldn’t be on this road today because it put her within five hundred metres of the Costas’ front gate and even closer to the vines. No way was she ready to face Leo. Not yet. She needed to be completely on top of things next time they met—emotionally strong—and right now she was a very long way from that.

  Most of her hoped he’d return to Melbourne and that it would be weeks before they had to talk again to sort out money and access. The whole situation had a surreal feel to it and she was happy to delay any decisions as long as possible. Delay everything until she’d worked out how to stop loving the father of her child. A child that would bind them together for ever. The irony that the baby now connected her with a family she couldn’t be part of wasn’t lost on her—their loyalties would lie with Leo. Did life have to be this hard?

  The old wooden single-lane bridge came into view and, although the river ran high and fast, the bridge was still above the water line. ‘We just need to get across the bridge and then we’re on bitumen.’

  Murphy barked his approval. Abbie knew how he felt. She wasn’t keen on this bridge, even in good weather. Its narrowness and low sides always made her edgy. She hauled on the handbrake and wound down her window, leaning out of the vehicle to double-check there wasn’t a car coming in the opposite direction. Across the river she could vaguely make out the silhouette of men—Costa employees—building a levee bank to protect the vines. Her heart tore as her eyes disregarded her instructions and scanned the group for height—Leo stood out in any group. But the rain obscured details and she couldn’t see much at all. She dragged her gaze to the other side of the bridge.

  No cars.

  Leaving her window open so she could see the side of the bridge, she slowly pressed the accelerator down. Rain drove into the cabin but it was better to be wet than misjudge things and end up over the side. Halfway over, she glanced up into the white glare of headlights. A car had pulled up and was waiting for her to cross. The lights dimmed and her mouth dried as an unmistakably tall man emerged from the car. Leo.

  Her hand froze on the gear-stick and every part of her wanted to throw the truck into reverse and retreat but that wasn’t possible. Even in dry conditions she wouldn’t trust herself to manoeuvre a vehicle this size backwards over such a narrow bridge. Her heart hammered as she ran limited options through her head. She could just drive past him when she reached the other side but that would only antagonise him more. She knew he’d been bitterly furious at her for walking out on him and she didn’t want to add to that. Somehow they had to find a way through this nightmare so they could be civil for the baby’s sake.

  Oh, dear God, but she wasn’t quite ready to start now. She maintained her slow speed, purposely delaying the moment she’d have to greet him, knowing her heart would die just a little bit more when she spoke the words, Hello, Leo.

  Between the pounding of the rain on the roof and the engine noise, nothing much else could be heard, although Abbie thought she heard a low drawn-out groan. It had probably come from her own lips as she crept inexorably closer to Leo and another difficult conversation.

  The groan grew deeper and louder and the
n an almighty roar of splitting timber erupted around her and, before she could do a thing, the four-wheel drive rolled. Deafening noise bellowed as water rushed at her through the open window, filling her nose, her eyes and her mouth. Everything was black. Dazed and disoriented, she had no idea if she was up or down. Get out! All she knew was that if she stayed strapped in her seat she would die.

  Fear both paralysed and galvanized her. Numb fingers pried at the seat belt as Murphy fell against her. The weight of the dog pinned her to the seat and, with an almighty heave, she pushed Murphy out of the window against the tide of water.

  She gasped for air as she felt the seat belt come away and she tried to move through the open window but the pressure of the water pushed her back. She could see grey sky and kept her eyes glued to that as she tried again to move. To get out. To live. Suddenly she was flung sideways and the ripping noise of crumpling metal filled her ears.

  Water covered her. She pushed upwards and broke the surface, coughing violently. Air. Sweet air. Her chest burned. Get out, get out, get out. She pulled up again, forcing her body out through the window. Red-hot pain seared her but her legs stayed put. Trapped.

  Panic sucked at her and she fought against it as muddy water swirled up around her neck. Holding on to the car, she tilted her chin and sucked in air. Air for herself, air for the baby. Twisting around, she tried again to free herself but she was pinned tight by the steering wheel and the dashboard. She breathed again. Water ran down her throat.

  Coughing, she pushed her head back as far as she could and managed a breath. Darkness ate at the edges of her mind. Was this what her life had come to? First denied the man she loved and now the chance to raise his child.

  No. She craned her head, trying to gain vital yet almost infinitesimal height to keep the water away from her nose. She heard Murphy’s bark, the faint yell of voices. Help was coming. Just keep going. Her hands cramped, her fingers weakened, her legs screamed and every muscle burned as her body strained to stay above the water.

  Then fire turned to ice and chilling pain dragged at her as she battled the morbid darkness that crushed her chest. Her energy drained away, completely consumed in the fight to escape, in the immense effort to breathe. A bright white light illuminated the darkness, promising blessed relief.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ‘NOOOOOOOOOO.’ Leo’s scream rent the air, slicing through the rain as the old timber bridge collapsed without warning, torn aside by the raging river as if it was as feeble as a matchstick model.

  Build a bridge to her heart.

  But the bridge had gone, taking Abbie with it, her four-wheel drive impotent against the surging flood waters that tossed it onto its roof and swept it downstream.

  Move! He acted on instinct, driven forward by adrenaline and abject terror. He ripped back the tarp on the Ute and grabbed rope and then ran along the riverbank, through mud, through marsh, his eyes never moving from the four-wheel drive, which was being tossed around like a crisp packet. Did everyone he loved drown? Had he finally realised he loved Abbie, only to lose her? The thought struck him so hard he almost stopped breathing.

  He saw a black and white flash and then Murphy appeared above water, valiantly swimming across the current. Hope burst through him. If the dog had got out then Abbie could too. Let her live. Please, God, let her live. His eyes strained through the rain, desperately searching for Abbie. For caramel hair. For a tilted and determined chin.

  Nothing.

  The levee bank builders, including his father, hearing the bridge collapse had rushed to the bank, their expressions frozen with shock.

  The noise of crushing metal boomed around them. The vehicle slammed against a fallen red gum, its trajectory momentarily stopped as it became trapped between the tree and the bank.

  Thank God. ‘Call 000,’ Leo yelled to the men. Lassoing a rope around his waist, he tied it firmly so it couldn’t slide off. Floodwater currents could sweep a man away in a heartbeat so the rope was his only option.

  He handed the other end of the tie to his father, forcing out the words against a constricted throat. ‘It’s Abbie.’

  His father’s dark eyes glowed with fear and memories. ‘Go. Be careful.’ His gloved hands gripped the rope as the other men gathered to help.

  Leo waded into the water. Images of diving under murky water, images of Dom spurred him on. Water pulled at him, pushed him, eddying around him like a whirlpool, trying to suck him down into its muddy depths and keep him away from the driver’s side of the truck. Vital seconds ticked past.

  You can do this. He heard the voice of his brother, silent to him for so many years. She’s got a chance.

  ‘Abbie, I’m coming.’ The wind caught his bellow and he struck out across the current.

  The first sight he saw was her hair floating around her head like a halo. Her body was half out of the car and her face was underwater.

  Dread sent its icy-cold fingers through him, squeezing his heart so tightly he thought it would cease beating. ‘Abbie!’ He heard his disembodied wail as he tried to lift her head well clear of the water. Her eyes had rolled back. His fingers fought to find her carotid pulse.

  A flutter of a beat. Faint. Weak.

  He had to get her out. With his arms around her chest, he gave an almighty pull, but her body refused to yield. No! Memories choked him and he tried again, refusing to give up another person he loved to this bloody river.

  The water lashed them against the car, threatening to swamp Abbie again. He rechecked her pulse.

  Barely there.

  He struggled to hold her head above the water. How the hell could he hold her clear and give her mouth-to-mouth at the same time? He was losing her.

  You can do this, Leo.

  How? Think. He yelled to the men on the bank. ‘She’s trapped; get me an irrigation pipe.’

  ‘We’re getting it.’ Voices relayed the message.

  Water flowed across her chin. He needed the pipe now. Two minutes ago.

  Was she breathing? He couldn’t see her chest under the murky water. Had he got this close, only to lose her?

  Anguish and terror tore through him.

  ‘Abbie! I love you.’ He shook her flaccid body. ‘Come back to me. Don’t ever leave me.’

  I love you. The bright light that had promised Abbie relief from pain faded and she was plunged back into inky darkness and burning pain. Her chest screamed as her diaphragm moved up. Air hit her wet and aching lungs. She gasped, then gagged, vomiting into the river.

  ‘Breathe, tesoro, breathe. Please just keep breathing.’

  She breathed. She didn’t have the energy to do anything else. Leo held her. Leo tilted her chin just above the water line; Leo’s ragged voice surrounded her, soothing her as she battled the horrifying fear that she’d slip back under to that dark, dark place.

  Leo. Her next breath came more easily.

  ‘Abbie.’ Leo’s hand patted her on the cheek but she couldn’t focus on him. She could only focus on her next breath. ‘Abbie, the water is too high and you need to breathe through this pipe. Stefano’s going to hold you and talk to you and I’m going to try and free your legs. Keep breathing, sweetheart; that’s all you have to do. I’ll do the rest.’

  She felt the pipe against her lips and then another pair of arms wrapped around her.

  ‘Like a snorkel, sì? Think of tropical fish. We’re right here. Breathe in, breathe out.’ Stefano’s work-strong arms held her tightly. ‘Leo’s diving under.’

  A moment later Leo’s hands touched her on her body, trailing down her legs. Then the touch vanished.

  ‘Abbie.’ She heard the surgeon speaking to her, the tone almost vanquishing all traces of the petrified man. ‘I have to break your leg to get you out.’

  I don’t care—just get me out. She couldn’t speak and she had no energy to move but somehow she managed a nod.

  ‘Bite the tube against the pain but don’t scream. Just breathe through the pipe.’

  She closed
her mind to everything except the breath and then her body twisted violently and searing pain tore through her leg. Strong arms pulled her clear. The water receded to her chest and she let go of the tube. More arms hauled her up out of the water and dragged her over a log as excruciating pain the colour of fire—red, burnt orange and scorching yellow—tore through her.

  Then she felt the soft mud of the bank against her back and rain on her face.

  Safety. Blackness followed.

  Abbie opened her eyes to flowers. Bright pink gerberas, purple lithianthus, fragrant white lilies, cheery yellow daisies and white roses. Three vases of white roses. She stared at them.

  I love you. Had she imagined Leo saying that? Who knew what your brain did when it was being starved of oxygen?

  She’d drifted in and out of consciousness and only had snatches of memory but she’d been certain Leo was with her when she’d been in the ambulance, gone into Theatre and been transferred to the ward.

  He wasn’t with her now.

  ‘Hey, you’re awake.’ Anna put down her magazine. ‘Are you hungry? I’ve got the chef on standby for whatever you want.’

  Abbie gave her a wan smile, the idea of food curdling her stomach. ‘I think a cup of tea with toast and Vegemite is all I really feel like.’

  Anna stood up. ‘Consider it done.’ She squeezed her arm and walked out of the room as Stefano and Rosa walked in, bringing care and concern along with a large brown paper bag.

  ‘My irrigation pipe has never been used as a snorkel before.’ Stefano kissed her on both cheeks.

  ‘Let’s hope it never has to be again.’ Abbie reached for his hand. ‘Thank you for talking me through it.’ She gave thanks she was alive but she really didn’t want to think about how terrified she’d been so she changed the topic. ‘How are the vines?’

  ‘The rain has stopped and the levee bank is holding so we hold our breath for a few more days. Floods come and go, but it’s the people we love who are important. You worry about yourself, OK?’

  The people we love.