Christmas with the Single Dad

by Louisa Heaton

  She was just about to say something about it—thank him for earlier—when she spotted something, off to Nathan’s right, illuminated by the lights of the vehicles. It was a small herd of deer, running across the field at full pelt.

  ‘Nathan, look!’ She pointed.

  There had to be seven or eight. Mostly fully grown and running hard. The lead deer had full antlers, like tree branches.

  And they were heading straight for the road.

  ‘I think I’m going to slow down.’

  But as Nathan slowed their vehicle it became clear that the vehicle in front, with the horse trailer, had continued on at a normal speed.

  Sydney leaned forward. ‘Have they not seen them? What can we do?’

  Nathan hit his horn, hoping it would make the driver ahead pay attention, or at least startle the deer into heading in another direction, but neither happened.

  The biggest deer burst through the undergrowth, leaping over the ditch and straight out onto the road—right in front of the other vehicle.

  Sydney watched, horrified, and brake lights lit up her face as the car in front tried to swerve at the last minute, but failed. The horsebox at the back wobbled, bouncing from left to right with the weight of the horse inside, before it tipped over and pulled the car straight into the ditch. The rest of the deer leapt by, over the road and into the next field.

  Nathan hit the brakes, stopping the car. ‘Call for help.’

  Her heart was pounding madly in her chest. ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘I’m going to check for casualties. After you’ve contacted emergency services go into the boot of the car and find the reflective triangle and put it in the road. We’re on a bend here, and we need to warn other traffic. We’re sitting ducks.’

  Then he grabbed his bag and was gone.

  She watched him run over to the car through the light of the headlamps as she dialled 999 with shaking fingers. As she watched Nathan trying to talk to someone she saw the driver fall from the driver’s side. Then her gaze fell upon the horse in the horsebox. It was moving. Alive.

  I have to get out there!

  But she had no equipment. No bag. No medicines. She felt helpless. Useless! She’d felt this way just once before.

  I’ll be damned if I feel that way again!

  ‘Which service do you require?’ A voice spoke down the phone.

  ‘All of them. We need them all.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  SYDNEY DASHED TO the boot of Nathan’s car and panicked as she struggled to open it. At first she couldn’t see the reflective triangle he’d mentioned—his boot was full of stuff. But she rummaged through, tossing things to one side, until she found it. Then she dashed to the bend in the road and placed it down, hoping that it would be enough of a warning to stop any other vehicles that came that way from running into them.

  She ran over to the ditched car and horsebox, glancing quickly at the horse in the back. It was neighing and huffing, making an awful lot of noise, stamping its hooves, struggling to find a way to stand in a box that was on its side. She couldn’t see if it had any injuries. She hoped not. But there wasn’t much she could do for the horse anyhow. She needed to help Nathan and the people in the car.

  She’d already seen the driver was out of the vehicle. He was sitting in the road, groaning and clutching at his head. He had a bleeding laceration across his brow, causing blood to dribble down his face and eyes.

  Nathan was in the ditched vehicle, assessing whoever was in the front seat.

  Sydney knelt down, saw the head wound was quite deep and pulled the scarf from around her neck and tied it around the guy’s scalp. ‘You need to come with me. Off the road. Come and sit over here.’

  She pointed at the grass verge.

  ‘I didn’t see... I didn’t notice... We were arguing...’ the man mumbled.

  He was in shock. Sydney grabbed the man under his armpits and hauled him to his feet. Normally she wouldn’t move anyone after a car accident. She knew that much. But this man had already hauled himself out of the vehicle and dropped onto the road before Nathan got there. If he’d done any damage to himself, then it was already done. The least she could do was get him out of the middle of the road and to a safer zone.

  The man was heavy and dazed, but he got to his feet and staggered with her to the roadside, where she lowered him down and told him to stay. ‘Don’t move. Try and stay still until the ambulance gets here. I’ve called for help—they’re on their way.’

  The man looked up at her. ‘My wife...my son!’

  He tried to get up again, but Sydney held him firmly in place. ‘I’ll go and help them, but you must stay here!’

  The man looked helpless and nodded, trembling as he realised there was blood all over his hands.

  Sydney ran back over to the ditched car, heard a child crying and noticed that Nathan was now in the back seat. He called to her over his shoulder.

  ‘There’s a baby. In a car seat. He looks okay, but I need to get him out of the vehicle so I can sit in the back and maintain C-spine for the mother.’

  Sydney nodded and glanced at the woman in the front seat. She was unconscious, and her air bag had deployed and lay crumpled and used before her. There was no bleeding that she could see, but that didn’t mean a serious injury had not occurred. If a casualty was unconscious, that usually meant shock or a head injury. She hoped it was just the former.

  ‘I’m unclipping the seatbelt.’

  Sydney heard a clunk, then Nathan was backing out, holding a car seat with an indignant, crying infant inside it, bawling away.

  The baby couldn’t be more than nine months old, and had beautiful fluffy blond hair. But his face was red with rage and tears, and his little feet in his sleep suit were kicking in time with his crying.

  ‘Shh... It’s okay. It’s okay... I’ve got you.’ Sydney took the heavy seat with care, cooing calming words as she walked back across the road to take him to his father.

  In the distance she heard the faint, reassuring sound of sirens.

  ‘Here. Your little boy. What’s his name?’ she asked the man, who smiled with great relief that his son seemed physically okay.

  ‘Brandon.’

  That was good. The man’s bump to the head hadn’t caused amnesia or anything like that. ‘And your name...?’

  ‘Paul.’

  ‘Okay, Paul. You’re safe. And Brandon’s safe—he doesn’t look injured—and that man helping your wife is a doctor. She’s in good hands. He knows what he’s doing.’

  ‘Is she hurt? Is Helen hurt?’

  Sydney debated about how much she should reveal—should she say that Helen was unconscious? Or stay optimistic and just tell him she was doing okay? The truth won out.

  ‘I don’t know. She’s unconscious, but Nathan—that’s Dr Jones—is with her in the car and he’s looking after her. Do you hear those sirens? More help will be with us soon.’

  The sirens were much louder now, and Sydney knew she was breathing faster. Hearing them get closer and closer just reminded her of that morning when she’d had to call an ambulance for Olivia. Wishing they’d get to her faster. Feeling that they were taking for ever. Praying that they would help her daughter. She could see the same look in Paul’s eyes now. The distress. The fear.

  But this was an occasion where she actually had her wits about her and could do something.

  ‘I need to go and help Nathan.’

  She ran back across the road. The car’s radiator or something must have burst, because she could hear hissing and see steam rising up through the bonnet of the vehicle. She ducked into the open door.

  Nathan was in the back seat, his hands clutching Helen’s head, keeping it upright and still. His face was twisted, as if he was in pain.

  ‘Is
she breathing still?’ he managed to ask her.

  Is she breathing? Sydney wasn’t sure she wanted to check—her own shock at what had happened was starting to take effect. What if Helen wasn’t breathing? What if Helen’s heart had stopped?

  ‘I—’

  ‘Watch her chest. Is there rise and fall?’

  She checked. There was movement. ‘Yes, there is!’

  ‘Count how many breaths she takes in ten seconds.’

  She looked back, counting. ‘Two.’

  ‘Okay. That’s good.’

  She saw Nathan wince. Perhaps he had cramp, or something? There was some broken glass in the car. Perhaps he’d knelt on it? She pushed the thought to the back of her mind as vehicles flashing red and blue lights appeared. An ambulance. A fire engine, and further behind them she could see a police car.

  Thank you!

  Sydney got out of the car and waved them down, feeling relief flood her.

  A paramedic jumped out of the ambulance and came over to her, pulling on some purple gloves. ‘Can you tell me what happened?’

  She gave a brief rundown of the incident, and pointed out Paul and baby Brandon, then filled him in on the woman in the car.

  ‘Okay, let’s see to her first.’ The paramedic called out to his partner to look after the driver and his son whilst he checked out Helen, still in the car with Nathan.

  Sydney ran back over to Paul. ‘Help’s here! It’s okay. We’re okay.’ She beamed, glad that the onus of responsibility was now being shouldered by lots of other people rather than just her and Nathan.

  As she stood back and watched the rescue operation she realised there were tears on her face. She wiped them away with a sleeve, aware of how frightened she’d been, and waited for Nathan to join her, shivering. She wanted to be held. To feel safe. She wanted to be comforted.

  The morning she’d found Olivia she’d been on her own. Alastair had already left for work. So there’d been no one to hold her and let her know it was okay. She’d needed arms around her then and she needed them now. But Alastair had never held her again.

  If she asked him, Nathan would hold her for a moment. She just knew it. Sensed it. What they’d just experienced had been traumatic. But she remained silent, clutching her coat to her. She just stood and watched the emergency services get everything sorted.

  And waited.

  Nathan was needed by the paramedics, and then by the police, and by the time he was free she was not. The horse needed her—needed checking over.

  She told herself a hug wasn’t important and focused on the practical.

  * * *

  Paul and Brandon had been taken to hospital in one ambulance; Helen had been extricated and taken away in another, finally conscious. The horsebox had been righted and the horse had been led out to be checked by Sydney. It had some knocks and scrapes to its legs, mostly around its fetlocks—which, in humans, was comparable to injuries to an ankle joint—but apart from that it just seemed startled more than anything.

  They’d all been very lucky, and Sydney now stood, calming the horse, whilst they waited for an animal transporter to arrive.

  Nathan stood watching her. ‘That horse really feels safe with you.’

  She smiled. ‘Makes a change. Normally horses see me coming with my vet bag and start playing up. It’s nice to be able to comfort one and calm it down.’

  ‘You’re doing brilliantly.’

  She looked at him. He looked a little worn out. Wearied. As if attending to the patients in the crash had physically exhausted him. Perhaps he’d had a really long day. Just like being a vet, being a doctor had to be stressful at times. Seeing endless streams of people, each with their own problems. Having to break bad news. She knew how stressful it was for her to have to tell a customer that their beloved pet was dying, or had to be put to sleep. And when she did euthanise a beloved pet she often found herself shedding silent tears along with the owner. She couldn’t help it.

  Perhaps it was the same for Nathan. Did seeing people in distress upset him? Wear him out?

  ‘You did brilliantly. Knowing what to do...who to treat. How to look after Helen. I wouldn’t have thought to do that.’ She stroked the horse’s muzzle.

  ‘It’s nothing.’

  ‘But it is. You probably saved her life, keeping her airway open like that. She could have died.’

  ‘At least they’re in safe hands now.’

  She looked at him and met his gaze. ‘They were already in safe hands.’

  She needed to let him know that what he’d done today had mattered. Paul still had a wife. Brandon still had a mother. Because of him. A while ago she’d almost lost her faith in doctors. She’d depended on them to save Olivia, and when they’d told her there was nothing they could do...

  At first she hadn’t wanted to believe them. Had raged at them. Demanded they do something! When they hadn’t she had collapsed in a heap, hating them—and everyone—with a passion she had never known was inside her. Today, Nathan had proved to her that doctors did help.

  ‘How do you think the horse is doing?’

  Sydney could feel the animal was calmer. It had stopped stamping its hooves and snorting as they’d stood there on the side of the road, watching the clean-up operation. It had stopped tossing its head. Its breathing had become steadier.

  ‘She’s doing great.’

  ‘Paul and Helen aren’t the only ones in safe hands.’ He smiled and sat down on the bank beside her, letting out a breath and rolling his shoulders.

  She stared at him for a moment, shocked to realise that she wanted to sit next to him, maybe to massage his shoulders or just lean her head against his shoulder. She wanted that physical contact.

  Feeling that yearning to touch him surprised her and she turned away from him, focussing on the horse. She shouldn’t be feeling that for him. What was the point? It was best to focus on the horse. She knew what she was doing there.

  It didn’t take long for the accident to be cleared. The police took pictures, measured the road, measured the skid marks and collected debris. The car was pulled from the ditch and lifted onto a lorry to be taken away, and just as Sydney was beginning to doubt that a new horsebox would ever arrive a truck came ambling around the corner and they loaded the mare onto it to take her back to her stable.

  Sydney gave the truck driver her details and told her to let Paul know that she’d be happy to come out and check on the horse, and that he was to give her a call if she was needed urgently.

  Eventually she and Nathan got back into his car and she noticed that it was nearly midnight. Normally she would be lying in bed at this time, staring at the ceiling and worrying over every little thought. Wide awake.

  But tonight she felt tired. Ready for her bed even without a sleeping pill. It surprised her.

  Nathan started the engine. ‘Let’s take you home. Our little trip out lasted longer than either of us expected.’

  ‘That’s okay. I’d only have been awake anyway. At least this way I was put to good use.’

  ‘You’ve not been sleeping for some time?’

  She shook her head and looked away from him, out of the window. ‘No.’

  He seemed to ruminate on this for a while, but then he changed the subject. ‘Good thing I didn’t get any more house calls.’

  That was true. What would he have done if he’d got a page to say that someone was having chest pains whilst he’d been helping Helen? They’d been lucky. All of them.

  It was nice and warm in Nathan’s car as he drove them steadily back to Silverdale. For the first time Sydney felt the silence between them was comfortable. She didn’t need to fill the silence with words. Or to feel awkward. The circumstances of the emergency had thrown them together and something intangible had changed.

  It felt nice to
be sitting with someone like that. Even if it was with a man she had at first disliked immensely.

  A jolt in the road startled her, and she realised she’d almost nodded off. She sucked in a breath, shocked that she’d felt comfortable enough to fall asleep.

  She glanced at Nathan just as he glanced at her, and they both quickly looked away.

  Sydney smiled.

  It was beginning to feel more than nice.

  It was beginning to feel good.

  * * *

  Nathan pulled up outside Sydney’s cottage and killed the engine. He looked out at the dark, empty street, lit only by one or two streetlamps, and watched as a cat sneaked across the road and disappeared under a hedge after being startled by his engine.

  Despite the accident he’d had a good time tonight. It had felt really good to spend time with Sydney, and he felt they’d cleared the air after their misunderstandings at their first meeting and the awkward coffee.

  Turning up at her door to ask for help with directions had almost been a step too far for him. He’d joked about asking her for her help, but when he’d tried to find Eleanor’s cottage on his own his stupid GPS had made him turn down a very narrow farming lane and asked him to drive through a muddy field! He’d got out and checked that there wasn’t a farmhouse or something near, where he might ask for help, but there’d been nothing. Just fields. And mud. Plenty of mud!

  He’d argued with himself about going to her house. Almost not gone there at all. He knew her address. He’d seen it on his computer at work and for some reason it had burnt itself into his brain. She didn’t live far from her place of work, so it had been easy to find her, but he hadn’t known what sort of reception he’d get. She might have slammed the door in his face.

  He’d felt awkward asking for help, but thankfully she’d agreed to go with him, and it had been nice to have her with him in his car, just chatting. It had been a very long time since he’d done that with anyone. The last time had been with Gwyneth. She’d always talked when they were driving—pointing things out, forming opinions on people or places that they passed. Her judgemental approach had made him realise just how insecure she’d been, and he’d done his best to try and make her feel good about herself.