‘The two things don’t necessarily go hand in hand, sweetheart.’ He swiped off the mitts and dropped them on the bench. With his hands on his hips, he slanted a dark, brooding look at her. ‘I’ve been back in the country for half a day and I know that you’ve worked hours that would stop a normal person in their tracks. And the contents of our fridge would only have kept a dieting rabbit happy for a couple of hours.’
He picked up the plate with the potatoes and she was left with a view of his back as he walked away from her again. Even with frustration stampeding through her, she couldn’t help an involuntary scan down his lean length. Abruptly, the anger turned to a visceral tug of desire. How she used to delight in running her hands over his body, the swimmer’s shoulders, the narrow waist, hard, muscular buttocks.
She took a deep breath, desperately channelling her energy to a more appropriate avenue. They were arguing about food. She followed him out to the barbecue where he turned the salmon.
‘Like I said before, if you’d seen fit to let me know you were coming, I might have had a chance to lay in supplies for a whole bloody warren.’ She sounded inadequate and defensive while he looked so big and gorgeous and in control. It wasn’t fair. He was the interloper here.
The corners of his mouth twitched. If he laughed at her she was going to dump the salad over his head.
‘I know. The point is there wasn’t enough in our fridge to feed one overworked doctor. Which confirms that you’ve been working long hours as you haven’t had time to restock.’ He flipped the browned fillets onto the serving plate. ‘Dinner’s ready.’
‘It’s not that. I’ve been tired.’ Aware she sounded more like a petulant child than an adult, she slipped into her seat. She knew if she’d been home alone there was a good chance she’d have opened a tin of baked beans and then gone to bed.
‘I rest my case.’ He picked up the bottle of red wine and topped up his glass before giving her an old-fashioned look over the rim.
She fumed silently for a long moment. ‘Anyway, that’s beside the point. You have no right to interfere in my professional life. I’ve a good mind to ring Tony and insist he reinstate the roster.’
Jack sighed. ‘I didn’t ask him to change it, Liz. It was his call. His professional decision. And one I happen to agree with.’
‘Why would he do it without telling me?’
‘I was there when he made the decision and I said I’d let you know. We were talking about last night’s accident, as new fire chief to hospital superintendent. It prompted him to remember you’d been on duty. There are four other doctors at the hospital.’
‘Two. Barbara’s on holiday and Tim’s just broken his leg,’ she muttered.
‘Nevertheless, someone else is doing tonight’s shift.’ He pushed the salad bowl towards her before reaching across to add a piece of fish and baked potato to her plate. ‘Now, can we eat?’
The meal looked perfect. Perfect. She’d had the workday from hell. All her personal relationships were a disaster. Her brother, Mark, was angry because she’d tried to talk him out of his latest hare-brained stunt. Her mother was disappointed in her because she hadn’t succeeded with her brother. She was pregnant, married to a man who didn’t want to be a father. And now the man wanted to play happy families as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening.
The perfection in front of her seemed to underline the wretched state of everything else.
She stared at tiny brown granules of pepper showering over the food on Jack’s plate as he twisted the top of the grinder.
His eyes met hers as he slowly placed the unit back on the table. ‘Is there a problem? I never thought to ask you if there’s anything you can’t eat.’
‘The salmon’s fine. It’s not that…it’s you.’ She swallowed, trying to subdue the undulation in her stomach. ‘It’s this whole weird thing. We agreed to a divorce. Why are you behaving as though you’re trying out for husband of the year when we both know our marriage is in the ditch?’
‘I know what we agreed on. But we’re not divorced yet and maybe we don’t have to be.’ He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, his eyes guarded as they held hers. ‘But if we’re going to fix our marriage, someone has to start somewhere.’
‘And you think you’re that someone?’ A year, even six months ago, his stand would have been the sweetest offer he could have made. But the fact remained he’d been adamant about their marriage remaining child-free back then. All that had changed was her pregnancy. If he stayed now, it smacked of selfsacrifice. She didn’t want that for her baby. Or herself. ‘What if I don’t believe it can be fixed? What if…I don’t want you back?’ she finished in a rush so the words wouldn’t choke her.
If she hadn’t been looking at him, she’d have missed any sign her words had registered. As it was, there was just the suggestion of stillness in his face, a tightening around the eyes, his throat moving in a quick swallow. She had an urge to push harder, see what it took to make him feel the turmoil she was feeling.
‘But you’re not sure.’ He picked up his napkin and laid it on his lap.
‘W-why do you say that?’
He gave her a bland look. ‘You haven’t told anyone we’re separated.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Among other things, I ran into your mother at the supermarket this afternoon. If she knew my days were numbered I don’t think she’d have been able to resist some small barb to let me know.’
She stared at him, unable to refute the claim. Her mother’s antipathy towards Jack had caused difficulty from the beginning of their marriage. Any sign that the union was over and her mother wouldn’t hesitate to voice her pleasure.
‘So why haven’t you?’ Jack interrupted her thoughts.
‘Because…Because…’ She searched for a reason that would set him back on his heels. Instead, her shoulders slumped as the anger seeped out of her. ‘Because an opportunity never seemed to present itself. And then I found out I was pregnant and it seemed even less appropriate.’
She reached for the base of her glass, the liquid sloshing slightly as she pushed it to and fro.
‘It’s hardly the sort of thing I could share without making some sort of explanation, is it? What was I supposed to say? Hey, everyone! Guess what? Jack and I have decided to get a divorce. Oh, and by the way, in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m pregnant. Isn’t it just peachy?’ She grimaced. ‘Hell, Jack, I’m a doctor. If I can’t get birth control right, what sort of example am I to my patients?’
‘Must have been tough for you.’ Jack gave her an understanding smile, which slowly faded when she frowned at him.
He reached for her hand, stopping the restless movement of the glass. His thumb caressed her wedding ring, rubbing her skin lightly on either side. The warmth of his touch felt good, made her realise how chilled her fingers were.
‘Liz, let’s leave this for another time.’
‘I won’t change my mind.’ Her voice sounded wobbly, hoarse. She had to be strong. Hers wasn’t the only life affected by her decisions any more.
‘I know.’
She sucked her lips between her teeth to quell their trembling. ‘Then what’s the point?’
‘The point is you’re tired, I’m still jet-lagged.’ He smiled in appeal. ‘I promise we can resume hostilities after a good night’s sleep. Scalpels at dawn. Cross my heart.’
A snorting half-laugh escaped before she could stop it. ‘I hate that you can make me see the absurdity of this when I’m still mad as hell with you.’
‘I know.’ He grinned.
‘There’re a lot of things that need to be said.’ Still reluctant to be charmed by him, she said, ‘Serious things that you can’t smooth over with a bit of a joke, Jack.’
‘Yes, but there’s no rule that says we have to say all those things tonight, is there?’ He stroked her knuckles, his blue eyes held an engaging appeal. ‘Truce?’
She contemplated him in silence, common sense and exhau
stion waging a short war with her need to settle her future—their future—one way or the other. ‘All right. Until tomorrow.’
‘I’ll consider myself on notice.’ He gave her hand a quick squeeze before releasing it and lifting his glass to chink it lightly on the edge of hers. ‘Until tomorrow.’
The uneasy peace held until the end of the meal. Jack seemed to put himself out to enchant her in a way that he hadn’t since the very early days of their whirlwind courtship and spur-of-the-moment marriage.
She pushed her plate away and sat back. The spring evening was chilling slightly, but she felt too lethargic to bother getting a cardigan. Moving might somehow break the spell that kept them in this civilised cocoon. And she was enjoying this reminder of her romance with Jack, a brief interlude before reality intruded again. She smiled slightly as the baby kicked against the hand she’d just rested in her lap. Not all reality was content to be ignored.
‘I spoke to Danny McIntyre,’ said Jack, breaking the companionable silence.
‘Did you?’ The lovely warm glow from her thoughts winked out abruptly. She met his eyes as she rubbed her stomach gently, trying to soothe the little being within.
‘The accident this morning sounded bad.’
‘Yes. I thought you didn’t want to argue,’ she said in a vain effort to stop the discussion. Might as well ask her unborn babe to stop using her bladder for football practice.
‘I don’t. We’re not.’
She wasn’t fooled by his conversational tone. ‘So you get to choose a topic but I don’t? Maybe I don’t want to discuss this topic.’
‘Is that because you broke the first rule of first aid at the accident scene?’
‘Did Danny say that?’
‘No.’ He smiled slightly. ‘What Danny did was give me a glowing description of your courage as the car teetered on the bridge.’
‘Hardly teetering. By the time I got there they had the car stabilised. They were just waiting for the jaws-of-life.’ She frowned. ‘You didn’t give Danny a hard time about this, did you?’
He ignored her question. ‘But it was still on the edge of the bridge. You shouldn’t have put yourself at risk.’
‘I made a judgement call. The woman was making her injuries worse by moving around,’ said Liz, her heart pounding. She’d been so afraid for the young victim. No force on earth could have prevented her from getting into that car. ‘What was I supposed to do? Leave her alone there until she severed something vital on a jagged edge? She was pregnant and afraid she was losing her baby, Jack.’
‘Is that why you did it?’ he asked softly after a moment. His eyes were dark, hard to read. ‘Because she was pregnant? Because you were viewing the situation as a fellow mother-to-be rather than a doctor?’
‘Yes. Is that so bad?’ But she already knew the rational answer. A responder putting themselves at risk at an accident could very well end up becoming another victim, making more work for others at the scene.
‘It could have been if something had gone wrong.’
‘Nothing did.’ His criticism of her actions hurt more than she’d thought possible. That he was right didn’t help. ‘You always say there’s no point dealing in could-have-beens.’
‘I also believe in reviewing ops afterwards and seeing where we could have been more effective.’
‘I was effective and I didn’t get hurt.’ Unable to sit any longer, she stood, picking up her plate and reaching for his, only to find both of them whisked out of her hands.
‘I’ll look after the dishes.’
‘I’m capable of carrying a few plates.’ She loitered beside her chair, heaviness dragging at her limbs.
‘Sure, but you don’t need to tonight. Go and sit down.’ He stacked the plates and scooped up the empty glasses before glancing up to find her standing in the same spot. ‘Are you still here?’
‘I—I think I’ll go to bed.’
‘Good idea. Take the master bedroom. I’ve put fresh sheets on the bed.’
Quick heat burned her cheeks as she remembered their exchange of words earlier. ‘Thanks.’
‘Hell, Liz. I didn’t mean that the way it must have sounded.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ She waved a hand in dismissal and forced her leaden legs to move. ‘Goodnight.’
It did matter.
Jack blew out a breath of frustration and guilt after she’d gone. He’d seen her face fall, a tell-tale blush briefly hiding the pallor of fatigue. The quip about the sheets had been unintentional. Sure, he’d had some harsh thoughts while he’d been making the bed up. But common sense told him, as much as he burned to sleep with his wife, it wasn’t going to happen while they had so much unresolved. Though he’d have been happy to put forward an argument on how it might help them resolve their problems…But then, that was how Liz had ended up pregnant in the first place, so perhaps not. Sharing a bed with Liz was probably a long way down the track.
He dropped the dishes in the sink and looked out at the gathering twilight. His sanity might be in question before this was over. The thought of her in bed on the other side of the house made him ache.
He’d come home to save his marriage, prepared to talk about having a family if that’s what it took. There should have been discussions, reconciliations—he’d especially been looking forward to those. But they were supposed to ease into it, approach the problem like mature adults, set a timetable that they could both be happy with. There should have been a decision to stop using contraception, the fun of trying to conceive and, eventually—maybe—Liz falling pregnant. Not this headlong pitch into impending parenthood.
He wasn’t ready.
Which made him realise that the problem with his imaginary future was that he’d never truly envisaged a pregnant Liz, the birth of a child.
Himself as a father.
And yet once his younger self had wanted that role fervently until grief and betrayal had crushed the naive joy in his heart.
Suds filled the sink as he squirted detergent under the running tap. Could he resurrect an echo of that anticipation for Liz, for the child they were going to have together? If anyone deserved his best efforts, it was his wife. But contemplating their future as parents left him cold and empty.
He sighed and began methodically washing the plates. After his experiences with his manipulative mother and then with his unfaithful fiancée’s pregnancy, he’d vowed to squash every nurturing instinct he possessed. For the first time he understood how thoroughly successful he’d been. Poor Liz. She’d never agree to take him back if she realised what an appalling candidate for fatherhood he really was. He’d have to work hard to make sure she never found out.
CHAPTER THREE
IN THE bedroom, Liz shut the door and closed her eyes as she leaned her forehead against the wood. The faint clinking of china carried to her. Jack working in the kitchen.
Jack.
Rolling her head, she twisted until her back was pressed to the door. She opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was the bed.
One area they’d never had trouble in…until now.
Blinking hard, she sniffed back the tears that pressed for release. Not that she wanted to sleep with Jack.
She grimaced. Who was she kidding? She wanted him like crazy with her heart, mind and body.
But everything was too messy. Sleeping with him wouldn’t solve anything.
She walked over to turn down the spread and touch the crisp linen pillowcase on her side. Jack making up the bed showed unexpected sensitivity. She should just appreciate it, not feel this tearing pressure in her heart.
He said that he wanted to save their marriage. Something completely out of character. Especially as she was pregnant. She had expected him to run a mile as soon as he saw her condition.
So why wasn’t he running? A quick pummelling from inside her abdomen reminded her of the shock on his face in the hospital room. A small, watery chuckle escaped before she quickly sobered. Judging by his reaction, he certainly hadn’t
had a change of heart about having children.
And after their increasingly acrimonious arguments on the matter before he’d gone away, she’d changed her mind about starting a family with him. Discovering her pregnancy soon after his departure had come as a shock to her too. All that hard thinking she’d done about what sort of man she wanted to be the father of her children was suddenly irrelevant. The bottom line was, Jack was the father and he fell far short of what she wanted for her baby.
A fine situation she’d got herself and her poor unborn child into. Could Jack change? No, it wasn’t that simple. His attitude was too entrenched. She had to stop torturing herself with such imaginings. Apart from those few fraught moments in the hospital room right after he’d discovered her pregnancy, he hadn’t mentioned their impending parenthood. Just their marriage.
Nothing had changed. Her baby’s future was her responsibility and hers alone. A child needed a warm and secure environment. No father at all would surely be better than one who was completely uninterested.
Liz would never subject her baby to a cold, formal childhood like she’d endured.
Now, with her medical training, she understood the psychology behind her drive for perfection and her brother’s addiction to extreme sports. In her secret heart, she’d hoped her father might find some value in her. Mark, her brother, must have felt lacking as well, using his dangerous behaviour as a method of seeking their distant parents’ attention.
Why hadn’t their father loved or valued them? Perhaps he hadn’t wanted children at all.
She’d known since high school that her mother must have been pregnant before the marriage. But in her teenage naivety she’d fantasised it had happened because they’d been in love and engaged. Now she wondered if her parents had talked about having a family. Or had they rushed headlong into matrimony without considering the weighty issues? Perhaps she had more in common with her mother than she’d ever have believed possible. Unfortunately, asking was out of the question. Her mother never, ever discussed personal or emotionally untidy things.
Liz frowned. Marrying, almost eloping with Jack, had been fabulously romantic at the time. They’d seemed so attuned to each other, especially in bed. She’d been smug about finding a partner prepared to give her the space to practise her career. In hindsight, she could see they hadn’t known nearly enough about each other. Hadn’t truly discussed the issue of having children. She realised Jack had made vague comments, let her do the talking whenever she’d brought up the subject. Fool that she was, she’d read the meaning she wanted into his responses.
Bride on the Children's Ward / Marriage Reunited: Baby on the Way Page 20