"I think a stiff brandy is called for,” Ryan said as they stood outside the reception area shaking the snow from their clothes and boots.
Tara couldn't answer. Her mouth trembled and her eyes filled with tears as the realisation hit her again that it could have been Ryan lying with his head smashed in or his back broken. She gave a tiny sob, trying to control her feelings.
"Hey, it's all over now, sweetheart” Ryan took her in his arms. “You're in shock, that's why we're going to have a drink at the bar and then go upstairs where you're going to have a hot bath."
"You were so calm, so together,” she whispered into his neck. “You could have been killed."
"Well, I wasn't, but it's nice to know you care,” he said lightly, trying to ease the tension. “And I'm sorry I chucked you out of the way when the chair was about to crash. Did I hurt you?"
Tara shook her head. “No. I've just got another bruise on my bum to add to the ones from yesterday."
Ryan laughed, kissing her hair. “Come on. I think there will be a few people recovering themselves in the bar,” he said, guiding her through the foyer.
The bar was crowed with everyone discussing the dreadful accident. A loud cheer went up when they saw Ryan and Tara. Ryan acknowledged it with a casual wave of his hand.
"Straight brandy for you,” he said, placing the glass in Tara's hand.
She gave him a shaky smile. She looked up and saw a man on the other side of the room staring at her, and her expression froze. No, it couldn't be. Was she hallucinating? It was Tony, the man who had persecuted her for the past two years.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Tara blinked and looked again. He was gone. She looked frantically around but there was no sign of him. She must have imagined him.
Ryan was talking to two of the emergency workers as they discussed the hot topic of what could have caused the cable to break and were there better ways that they could have handled things. Tara, still afraid that she had seen Tony, unconsciously drew closer to Ryan, who placed his arm around her waist.
"Ready to go to the room?” he asked as he turned to her. “You look drained.” His concerned eyes moved over her face.
"Yes, that would be good."
"The bloke in charge of emergency services has asked me to attend a debrief in an hour, but you don't need to go."
Normally Tara would have preferred to be part of such a debrief, particularly since she hadn't been involved in this type of accident before. But she decided she wanted the privacy of their room and the nurturing care of her husband. Her new husband, who still knew nothing of her past. Dear God! She hoped he never would.
"That's fine,” she replied, sipping the remainder of her drink and feeling the warmth spread through her.
Upstairs Ryan filled the spa while Tara slowly undressed. She already felt better, but whether this was the effect of the brandy she wasn't too sure.
"It's all ready for you, Madam,” Ryan smiled, his hands caressing her shoulders through her bathrobe as she sat at the dressing table twisting her hair around the top of her head.
Tara clasped his hands, drawing them down to cover her breasts. “I'm so glad you're here,” she whispered, meeting his eyes in the mirror.
Ryan slipped his hands inside the robe, touching and stroking her. His clever fingers stimulated her nipples and aroused her so that she arched back, longing to feel his body against hers.
"Make love to me.” She turned into his arms. “I want you."
Ryan's dark eyes flared as he slowly undid the tie of her robe exposing her naked body. His arousal was instant and complete, the passion between them exploding as they stumbled to the bed. Stopping only to reach for protection, Ryan took her, their union fast and passionate as each of them seemed to realise how close they had come to death on this terrible afternoon.
Afterwards Ryan continued to stroke her, running his finger tips along her arms and across her stomach. “Phew! I'm hot,” he murmured against her throat. “Give me a warning so I can get my clothes off next time."
Tara laughed, realising that Ryan had been more affected by the traumatic events of the afternoon than he was letting on. He had trembled in her arms as they had made love, almost as if it was for the last time and he was drawing comfort from her closeness.
"You're a very passionate man,” she sighed, running her hands through his thick hair. “Who am I to say no when faced with such an invitation?"
"I think that should be my line.” Ryan sat up, removed his clothes, and then pressed his warm, naked body against her. “And I think we should have that spa followed by a room service dinner tonight, hmm?"
Tara nodded her agreement and Ryan lay back on the pillows and shut his eyes. He was used to Tara's silence now. It had worried him at first until he realised it was the way she was and it was part of what had attracted him. There was a quiet strength about her and yet she was able to readily mix and respond when required.
He'd worried tremendously as the wedding had drawn near and he had watched her tighten up—becoming nervous and withdrawn, but really it had been only with him. With the children she had been as open and welcoming as always, encouraging their hopes and achievements. Ryan believed that Tara was almost as upset as he was at the thought of losing them. But here in this magical, different place as his new bride, he'd been delighted that she had rejoiced in their lovemaking. Her quiet ways had disguised a beautiful creature who was sensual and giving and who had welcomed him into her arms and into her life.
He cursed silently that the terrible accident had marred this time together. Although she had once again been passionate and loving, something of today's trauma had affected her. There was an underlying reserve that he couldn't fathom. Could she still be in shock? Even though both of them had seen many dreadful tragedies, he knew that it could still take its toll.
He thought about his near stupidity of a few moments ago when at the very last moment he'd remembered to grab a condom. How dumb and thoughtless to put Tara into potential jeopardy and yet the idea of her carrying his child filled him with excitement and a strange burning glow of pride. Tara would make a wonderful mother. She was one already to his precious angels. But she had more or less told him that she wanted their marriage to end when they knew the result of the court case. He wondered if she would still stay with him whatever the outcome. Whether it was as his wife or as his nurse, he didn't care. He wanted her. But then, hadn't Carol always called him selfish? Perhaps he was. Grabbing and keeping the things that he considered his.
Pushing her face into Ryan's neck, Tara felt his arms tighten around her. This is what I need. To be with this man who is so full of compassion. I know he cares for me; I know he enjoys making love to me and that will have to be enough. She closed her eyes, her thoughts drifting through the horror of the day and yet strangely enough it was the fleeting vision of Tony's face that upset her the most. She knew it hadn't been him; just someone who looked a little like him and it was such a brief glimpse—an easy mistake to make. She'd covered her tracks so carefully. No one knew where she was, up here in the High Country—hiding. Hiding from her past, from the man who had bullied and harassed her. From the man who had threatened her life. From Tony, her own step-brother.
She pressed closer to Ryan and then realised he'd drifted into a deep sleep. Gently outlining the shape of his sensual mouth with sensitive fingers, she pondered whether she should tell him about her past and the reason she had run away from Tony and her step-mother Julia. But surely Ryan had enough to worry about when they returned home? His children were his priority, not her.
* * * *
"You've entered this information incorrectly, Tara.” Ryan frowned as he stared at the computer in front of him.
Tara and Lauren exchanged knowing glances as Tara sighed and moved closer to check. They had been back from their brief honeymoon for only two days, but Ryan had launched into his work with a vengeance. He had been short tempered with Tara and the others in the surgery and none
of them quite knew why. The children were due to return at the weekend in three days time, and while Tara knew that Ryan missed them, she couldn't comprehend his mood swings from the loving, caring man of just a few days ago.
"I can't see a problem,” Tara responded, aware that Lauren and the reception staff were listening closely while pretending to get on with their work.
"I prescribed twenty milligrams of Lopressor for Mr. Casey, not ten."
Lauren broke in. “That's my fault, Ryan, not Tara's. I must have made a mistake when I was bringing the records up to date."
Turning towards her, Ryan glowered. “I don't expect mistakes, particularly when we're dealing with peoples’ lives,” he snapped. “Tara, I need your help with the next patient. Come into my office."
Dutifully following him, Tara closed the door behind her, wondering if she should make a comment on his bad mood. However, Ryan gave her no opportunity to speak as he placed a file on his desk.
"This is a new patient and I need to fill you in.” He spoke rapidly, impatience colouring his voice. “Thelma West is in her late seventies and has Paget's disease. I assume you're familiar with it?"
Twisting her hands nervously, Tara tried to decipher Ryan's mood. Why was he treating her like this? “Well ... I know it's a bone disease,” she replied hesitantly.
"Correct. It's also known as osteitis deformans. Mrs. West has an advanced form of the disease which is affecting much of her body but particularly her vertebrae and leg bones. She is almost wheelchair bound and has recently moved into the area to be with her sister, who is also her caregiver."
"What's the treatment?"
Tara studied his profile as he flipped over the pages of the medical file in front of him. How she loved him! The way his dark hair curled at the nape of his neck, his sensual lips that had given her such pleasure, now pursed in concentration as he studied the file. His long, elegant fingers tapped impatiently on the desk as he continued to read.
"She's been treated by specialists in Brisbane where she's been living, who have prescribed non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs. It appears they're not helping the joint pain anymore. Because she wanted to move here to be with her sister, the specialist has handed her over to me."
Ryan stopped as there was a gentle knock on the door. “Mrs. West is here,” Lauren explained opening the door wide to admit an elderly white-haired lady with a determined expression on her face who proceeded to guide her wheelchair into the office.
Ryan greeted her and introduced Tara. “Isn't your sister with you?” he asked.
"She's outside,” came the gruff reply and Tara could see that the woman's face was grey and worn with constant pain. “I don't want her any more upset than she already is, Doctor Wade. Now, tell me straight; can you do anything for me?"
Ryan drew his chair close to her and Tara watched as he began to work his magic on an obviously difficult patient. “Mrs. West, I've read your specialist's report. I gather the pain killing drugs you've been taking aren't helping."
"I may as well swallow fruit drops for all the good they're doing me.” The reply was to the point.
"You know that drug treatment can't reverse the disease,” Ryan began to explain.
Mrs. West leaned forward in her chair grimacing and interrupted him.
"Frankly I don't care about that. I've been to every damned doctor and specialist you can name and they can't help me. I've left the warmth of Northern Queensland to be here with my sister Janet, the only family I have left. I was born in the High Country and I'm going to die here. But I want to die with dignity in my own home. Now, are you going to help me or not!"
Ryan was quiet for a moment and Tara realised that he was thinking through the best way to handle this stubborn but proud woman. “I notice that Janet has one of the cottages on the edge of town."
"Yes. And a ramshackle old place it is, but it's our home. We don't have much money so I can't afford to pay for expensive treatment. Janet can't even afford to have the phone put on.” Suddenly her mouth trembled and Tara's eyes filled with tears as she watched the old woman trying to control her emotions.
"It will be all right, Mrs. West. There are probably new drugs out by now and I'm sure Doctor Wade and I can help you,” Tara blurted out aware that Ryan was frowning at her.
Mrs. West clutched hold of Tara's hand as if it was a lifeline, all her bravado slipping away. “It's not the way we planned, my husband and me,” she said looking into Tara's sympathetic face. “Alfred wasn't supposed to die and leave me here as a burden on my sister and other people. I don't know what to do."
Tara moved forward to place comforting arms around her when Ryan motioned her away, his eyes glittering with suppressed anger. His voice was crisp as he addressed his patient. “Mrs. West, there are quite a few things we can do to help you. We may be able to slow the progress with bisphasphonates, which your specialist has recommended we try."
"What about the cost?"
"Let me look into that. We will need to monitor your response to these drugs by means of blood tests. Nurse Wade will visit you regularly to administer these."
"You mean, come to the cottage?"
Ryan nodded. “She'll also take on some of the duties that Janet won't be able to manage, such as baths and massage and generally ease your pain and make you feel more comfortable."
For the first time a glimmer of a smile crossed the old lady's face and she awkwardly patted Tara's hand. “You don't mind visiting a feisty old girl like me?” she asked.
Returning her smile, Tara squeezed her hand. “It will be my pleasure, Mrs. West,” she said softly.
"Also, with your permission, I'd like to contact the social services department,” Ryan continued. “I think you and Janet should be receiving more assistance than you appear to be getting. Certainly you need a phone."
"Bless you, Doctor. I feel like you are the first people who've wanted to help.” Mrs. West gulped deeply with emotion. “Are you his woman?” she suddenly asked taking Tara by surprise.
"Tara is the practice nurse, Mrs. West. She is also my wife.” Ryan's tone once again was clipped and Tara wondered if he was ashamed to admit that they were married.
"Yes, I heard you'd married again. So you're Doctor Wade's woman, dear.” Mrs. West gave a faint chuckle and then groaned again with pain. “Well, you'd better bung some of this new drug into me, Doctor, before I make a fool of myself and pass out."
It was another ten minutes before Ryan had finished treating Mrs. West and had entered her details on the computer. Tara wheeled her out of the office, met Janet in the waiting room and made arrangements to visit the next day.
"Nurse Wade, I haven't finished with you yet,” Ryan called and Tara returned to his office still mystified by his changing moods.
"What's the matter?"
"You are, Tara.” Ryan leaned against his desk, his arms folded across his chest; his eyes cool as he watched her.
"I don't understand. Why?"
"I'm not sure whether I've explained this previously, but your standing as a professional should make it unnecessary for me to say this."
Tara felt her temper rising but instead of feeling nervous as she had previously, she was angry. “Ryan, I have no idea what you're talking about.” Her blue eyes sparked furiously as she faced him across the room.
"You may be my very new wife but here in this surgery you are just a nurse who happens to work for me."
"Just a nurse. How dare you!” She stepped closer. “And what has this nurse done that has upset her Lord and Master so much."
"You interfered with a diagnosis."
"I did not."
"What was all that talk about new drugs which we could give to Mrs. West?"
"Well, you did put her on something different, didn't you?"
"But you didn't know that at the time. In the future, leave the decisions to me and don't let your emotions carry you away."
Tara controlled her anger with difficulty. Where had her loving husb
and gone? In his place was the bitter, brooding man that she had met on her very first night. What was happening to them? Not trusting herself to speak and unable to withstand another bout of his scathing words, Tara swung away and slammed the office door behind her.
Hardly noticing the surgery full of patients, she rushed into the rest-room and stared at her face in the mirror. The colour was high in her cheeks and her eyes welled with tears. What had gone so wrong? She didn't believe that she had overstepped the mark. Perhaps she shouldn't have mentioned about the possibility of a new drug to help Mrs. West but, for heaven's sake, the poor woman had needed some form of comfort.
Cooling her hot face with a towel, she made her way to the kitchen where Lauren was busy making morning tea.
"Are you okay?” Lauren asked curiously.
"Yes, fine thanks."
"You'd think Ryan would be in a great mood, wouldn't you?” Lauren said, pouring hot water into the waiting coffee mugs.
"Why?” Tara asked in pretend innocence.
Lauren laughed. “Oh, come on, Tara. Anyone can see that the two of you have clicked, even if you only had a couple of days away. You're positively blooming."
Fighting the blush that rose in her cheeks, Tara vigorously stirred her coffee. “Well, except for being involved in the most disastrous ski accident for years, yes, we got on okay,” she said, with a wry smile.
"Then I don't understand why he's biting everyone's head off. He was like this when Carol first left him."
Tara closed her eyes as the shock of Lauren's comment struck home.
"Oh, not that it's anything to do with you, Tara,” Lauren hastily continued. “But if you could have a word with him, it might help. I mean, we all work really hard and absolutely adore Ryan but at the moment he's being a pain in the you know what!"
Nodding her agreement, Tara moved away. Lauren was right and she should ask Ryan what the problem was. Not now when they were both so steamed up, but perhaps tonight. Not that there had been anything amiss with regard to the physical side of their relationship. Ryan couldn't seem to get enough of her and her love for him grew more each day as she revelled in his lovemaking.
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