The Nurse's Christmas Wish

by Sarah Morgan

  ‘That’s because you live in a village where everyone looks out for their neighbours. You think they’re nosy but I think they’re caring. And I think you’re lucky, Mac Sullivan. Lucky to be surrounded by people who give a damn how you’re feeling and whether you’re sad or not.’ She gave a wistful smile. ‘Weird, isn’t it? You don’t even know what you’ve got.’

  Mac sighed. ‘I like the village, I never said I didn’t. But I also like privacy.’ He eyed the decorations. ‘And I don’t do Christmas. It isn’t my best time of year.’

  ‘I know. Josh told me. And I’m sorry.’ Her tone was flat. ‘Maybe I got carried away, but I always do at Christmas. Everyone does family stuff and I don’t have family. When Josh told me about the two of you on your own in this big house, I thought I could just move in and make it home for a few weeks. I wanted to do a fairy-tale Christmas. I thought you’d enjoy it, too. But perhaps I was wrong.’

  Guilt throbbed like a vicious wound and Mac let out a breath.

  ‘Are you saving me or yourself?’

  She gave a brave smile. ‘A bit of both?’

  The bravery was his undoing. If she’d cried or begged he could have sent her on her way. But she didn’t do either of those things. Instead, she managed to look strong and vulnerable at the same time, and the combination finished him.

  He sighed. ‘All right. You can stay.

  Her look changed to one of cautious optimism. ‘Really?’

  He must be mad. ‘Really.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She spoke with quiet dignity. ‘I know I can make your life more comfortable and you won’t even know I’m here.’

  Oh, he’d know she was there.

  One of the reasons he’d been determined to send her away was because he couldn’t help noticing her. He noticed everything. The warmth in her eyes, the curve of her hips, the endless legs...

  He stared into her soft brown eyes and felt something flicker to life inside him.

  He really should send her away.

  ‘Mac?’

  He closed his eyes briefly. ‘Just don’t think you can rope me in on this fantasy Christmas that you’re planning.’

  ‘All right.’ She chewed her lip and glanced around the hallway. ‘But can the decorations stay and can we have a tree?’

  ‘You’re pushing your luck.’

  She waved a hand around her hallway. ‘It’s just that your house is so perfect.’ Her cheeks dimpled. ‘A tiny tree? Just a few bits from the garden?’

  His gaze flickered to the bursts of greenery that now adorned his hallway. ‘You’ve already transferred half the garden to the hall. I don’t do Christmas, Louisa. But if you want to, that’s fine with me.’

  ‘Correction,’ she said happily. ‘You haven’t done Christmas up until now. But this year you’re doing Christmas, Mac. And you’re doing it in style.’

  He was more prickly than his holly, she mused as she tasted the casserole and added a pinch more salt and pepper.

  After their encounter in the hallway, he’d disappeared upstairs and she wondered whether she’d see him again that evening.

  Maybe she’d be eating the casserole on her own.

  But at least he was letting her stay.

  Ridiculously happy, she tasted the casserole again and then nearly dropped the spoon as she glanced up and saw him in the doorway, watching her.

  He’d changed into a soft black jumper and a pair of black jeans which were moulded perfectly to his hard thighs. His hair was still damp from the shower and his eyes were flinty black. He looked disturbingly male and more sexy than any man had a right to be.

  And he wasn’t the right man for her, she reminded herself hastily, dropping the spoon into the sink.

  He strolled into the room. ‘Tell me how you met Josh.’

  ‘Through work.’ She dragged her eyes away from the dark shadow of his jaw and lifted the casserole onto the table. ‘We met on an A and E course a few years ago.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And he tried to get me into bed.’

  Mac gave a short laugh and sat down. ‘Sounds like my baby brother.’

  ‘He didn’t succeed.’

  ‘Then he must be slipping.’

  ‘No. He just isn’t my type.’ She mashed potatoes and added milk and butter until they were fluffy. ‘He’s terrified of commitment and he’ll stay that way until he meets the right woman. And that woman certainly isn’t me.’

  ‘But he invited you here.’

  She put the mashed potatoes on the table. ‘Josh has got a heart of gold. He’s worried about you and he’s worried about me. He knew I had nowhere else to go.’ She hesitated, wondering how much to tell him. ‘And he knows I hate being on my own at Christmas.’ She could feel his eyes fixed on her face.

  ‘Christmas has a lot to answer for,’ he said grimly, sitting back as she spooned casserole onto a plate. ‘The media perpetrate this image of perfect families gathered round a twinkling tree loaded with presents. Faced with that fantasy, people can only be disappointed. It’s no wonder the suicide rate is so shockingly high at this time of year.’

  ‘Yes, other people’s happiness has a way of driving you over the edge.’

  His eyes narrowed as he took the plate from her. ‘Astute, aren’t you?’

  ‘Well, I know all about being on the outside, looking in.’ She pushed the potatoes towards him. ‘Help yourself. What was Christmas like when you were young? I love hearing about other people’s Christmases. Did you do the whole family thing, Mac?’

  Somehow she couldn’t imagine him as a child. Carefree. Laughing. Ripping paper off presents in a frantic haste to get to what was inside.

  Mac seemed too serious for all that. Adult.

  ‘Christmas.’ He gave a brief shrug and started to eat. ‘Turkey. Tree. Presents.’

  She gave him a wistful look. ‘Did you play games?’

  ‘No, definitely not.’ He shook his head. ‘My parents entertained in lavish style. We usually had about thirty people for lunch. All Josh and I wanted to do was open presents and play, but we had to be on our best behaviour and sit for ages over the various courses that my mother produced.’

  She pulled a face. ‘That doesn’t sound much fun.’

  ‘I’m guessing it was better than yours,’ he said softly, his eyes fixed on her face. ‘Was yours very bleak?’

  Oh, yes.

  She toyed with her food. ‘It was different every year.’ She fought to keep her voice casual. ‘A couple of times I was in foster-care over Christmas and that was all right—except that I never really felt part of the family. I was always the outsider.’

  ‘And when you weren’t in foster-care?’

  ‘Different places.’ She was aware of his gaze resting on her face and shifted uncomfortably. She had a feeling that Mac Sullivan didn’t miss much.

  ‘What happened to your parents?’

  ‘My mother had me when she was sixteen and couldn’t cope with me. I had asthma as a child and I used to be pretty ill, in and out of hospital all the time. I was shifted from foster-home to foster-home while they tried to find someone who’d adopt me, but people were put off by the severity of my illness.’ She shrugged. ‘I didn’t fit people’s image of a perfect baby, I suppose. I’m not maudlin about it. It’s just the way it was. I got on with it.’

  ‘But you hang onto this fantasy of a perfect family Christmas.’

  He definitely didn’t miss much.

  ‘Now who is being astute?’ She smiled. ‘I’m not a victim, Mac. There are a lot of things I didn’t have when I was a child, but I intend to make sure that I have them in the future.’

  He reached for his glass. ‘Like what?’

  ‘A proper home. A man who loves me. A dog and several children.’ Her cheeks dimpled into a smile. ‘Probably five, actually.’

  ‘Five?’ He sounded shocked and she laughed.

  ‘Yes. I want a noisy, crazy house where you can’t have a moment’s peace but where everyone is there for everyon
e else.’ She bit her lip and gave a shrug. ‘I want every Christmas to be the one I never had. I suppose I want the fairy-tale.’

  ‘One person’s fairy-tale is another’s nightmare.’ He gave a short laugh and helped himself to more casserole. ‘This is delicious, by the way. You’re an excellent cook.’

  ‘I love cooking.’

  He looked at her. ‘You love playing house.’ His tone was soft and she didn’t even bother denying what was so obviously the truth.

  ‘So now you understand what makes me tick, what about you? Did your wife cook, Mac?’

  Had his wife played house?

  His fork stilled. ‘Is this part of your rehabilitation programme?’ His voice was suddenly harsh. ‘Get me to talk about Melissa?’

  He could be formidable when he wanted to be, Louisa mused. No wonder he succeeded in keeping people at a distance.

  ‘Pretty name,’ she said quietly, ‘and, no, it isn’t part of any programme. Just a natural question as part of the conversation. Or doesn’t she come up in conversation?’

  He inhaled deeply. ‘I don’t want to talk about her, Louisa.’

  His shoulders had gone from relaxed to rigid. If she’d been sensible she would have dropped the subject. But when it came to someone hurting, she wasn’t always sensible.

  ‘And does that help? Not talking about her?’

  His gaze lifted to hers. ‘Nothing helps.’ He dropped his fork onto his empty plate and rose to his feet. ‘Thanks for dinner.’ And with that he left the room without a backward glance.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ‘RTA COMING in, Mac,’ Josh said, dropping the ambulance hotline. ‘Car came off the coast road and went over the cliff. The driver has been trapped for two hours but they’ve just got him out and they’re bringing him here now.’

  Louisa stared. ‘He went over the cliff and he’s still alive?’

  Josh shrugged. ‘It’s the right time of year for miracles.’

  Mac rolled his eyes. ‘Let’s hope so. OK, folks, everyone into Resus. Let’s move.’

  They donned protective clothing while Mac, as team leader, briefed them on their roles.

  ‘Louisa, you’re airway nurse. Work with Josh. All communication with the patient to go through Louisa.’ He barked out instructions as he dragged on gloves and eye protection. ‘Circulation team—if that car went over the cliff, the chances are he will have glass and debris in his clothing so I want you wearing thick gloves to undress him.’

  The radiographer hurried in and Mac glanced in her direction. ‘Sue, I’ll need standard X-ray films—chest, pelvis and lateral cervical spine.’

  The radiographer nodded and started preparing the machine just as the doors to Resus swung open and the paramedics hurried in with the stretcher.

  ‘This is Tim Norton, fifty-five-year-old man from Plymouth—lost control of the car on the ice.’

  Together they transferred the patient from the stretcher to the trolley, carefully checking that the lines and leads didn’t become disconnected or snagged.

  As airway doctor, Josh was responsible for clearing and securing the airway and he quickly ran through the necessary checks. ‘He’s apnoeic. We need to intubate him. Louisa?’

  He held out his hand and Louisa immediately passed him the laryngoscope and endotracheal tube, anticipating his needs.

  ‘Tim, we’re just going to put a tube into your mouth to help you breathe,’ she said, speaking clearly in case the patient could hear her. She knew how important it was to give reassurance and explain everything that they were doing. ‘You’re in hospital now and we’ll soon have you feeling more comfortable.’

  Once the airway had been cleaned and secured, they turned their attention to Tim’s cervical spine while the other members of the team quickly removed his clothing.

  Mac stepped forward, examining both sides of the chest for bruising, abrasions and other trauma. ‘Rapid, shallow breathing,’ he muttered. ‘Flail chest?’

  Josh finished helping Louisa apply the spinal support. ‘Paradoxical breathing?’

  ‘Only if the segment is large, central or if the patient is fatigued.’ Mac frowned, listening to the patient’s chest carefully. ‘He’s got a haemothorax. We need to insert a chest drain and he needs a blood transfusion. Fiona—did you get those lines in?’

  He was slick and smooth, totally in control of the situation as he carefully monitored what each individual was doing.

  What an amazing doctor, Louisa thought to herself as she continued to talk quietly to the patient, offering reassurance and comfort even though there was no response.

  She’d worked in several different A and E departments over the past two years and had encountered a variety of different doctors. Some fumbled, some panicked. Mac did neither.

  The drain was inserted into the chest with the minimum of fuss and the blood arrived from transfusion and was duly warmed before being attached to the giving set.

  ‘His vital signs aren’t improving,’ Josh muttered, and Mac nodded, his expression grim as he checked the patient’s obs.

  ‘Which means that either the shock isn’t caused by hypovolaemia or that the patient is bleeding faster than we can replace it. My money is on the latter. Are the surgeons on their way?’

  ‘Right here.’ Phil Douglas stepped up to the trolley, his eyes on the patient. ‘What have you got for me?’

  ‘He’s fractured ribs 5 to 11 and he’s showing all the signs of an intra-abdominal bleed,’ Mac told him, outlining the situation in a clear, concise fashion while Phil listened.

  ‘Haemodynamically stable?’

  They continued to talk and examine the patient and finally Phil gave a nod.

  ‘All right, if he’s stable enough let’s get him straight to Theatre.’

  Mac frowned. ‘Are there any relatives?’

  One of the nurses nodded. ‘We’re contacting them now.’

  Mac looked up. ‘Your patient, Phil.’

  Phil rolled his eyes. ‘And a merry Christmas to you, too.’

  * * *

  ‘Phew, I’m exhausted.’ Louisa surveyed the mess in Resus and gave a sigh.

  ‘Go home.’ Hannah, the A and E staff nurse who had acted as circulation nurse, gave her a smile. ‘You’ve been on since the crack of dawn. You deserve a rest.’

  ‘I’ll help you first. The last thing we need is another accident in here before we’ve restocked.’ Like all A and E staff, Louisa understood the importance of keeping Resus ready for the next emergency. ‘It will be faster if we do it together.’

  And she liked Hannah. The pretty blonde girl always had a ready smile and was a hard worker.

  ‘Well, if you’re sure, thanks. Poor man. What a thing to happen just before Christmas.’ Hannah tipped the debris from the intubation tray into the bin. ‘I hope they make contact with his relatives soon. Someone out there must be worrying themselves sick about him.’

  Louisa felt pain shaft through her.

  ‘Not everyone has someone to worry about them,’ she said casually. ‘Perhaps he doesn’t have any family.’

  Hannah looked at her. ‘You think he might have driven his car off the cliff on purpose?’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’ Louisa brushed her dark hair away from her face and gave a weary smile. ‘Let’s hope not.’

  ‘Well, Christmas does weird things to people,’ Hannah agreed, running through saline and dextrose and hanging them ready from the drip stand. ‘I’m not exactly looking forward to it myself.’

  Louisa glanced up from the drugs she was checking. ‘Are you working?’

  ‘Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and Boxing Day,’ Hannah said cheerfully. ‘Never mind. I’ll just have to hope that Santa drops Mr Right down my chimney to distract me.’

  Louisa smiled. ‘Anyone particular in mind?’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t object to finding Mac Sullivan in my stocking,’ Hannah quipped. ‘But seeing as he’s on everyone’s Christmas list, I’m not holding my breath.’

  ‘
What about Josh?’

  Hannah gave a womanly smile. ‘I’d prefer to keep my heart intact, and falling for Josh would be a big mistake. He’s gorgeous, of course, but too much the playboy for my taste.’ She shrugged. ‘Mac’s different. Solid. Tough. You just know that when he eventually takes the plunge and falls for a woman again, it’s going to be serious.’

  Would he fall for someone again? Louisa mused as she snapped open a laryngoscope to check that the bulb was working. Or would he keep himself locked away for ever?

  Not her type, she reminded herself firmly as she finished restocking Resus.

  ‘All done.’ Hannah glanced round the room and gave a satisfied nod. ‘Go home. You look exhausted.’

  She was exhausted.

  The doors swung open again and Mac strode in. ‘Child with severe asthma coming in—is this place ready?’

  Louisa froze.

  Of all the cases she dealt with in A and E, asthma gave her the most problems.

  ‘Louisa?’ Mac’s tone was sharp and she jumped.

  ‘Everything’s fine,’ she said quickly, licking dry lips and moving towards the intubation tray. She could do this. Quickly she snapped open the paediatric laryngoscope. ‘How old?’

  ‘Little girl, aged six. Hannah, can you meet the ambulance?’ His voice was rock steady and he waited for the other nurse to leave the room before walking over to Louisa. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  His eyes rested on her. ‘Louisa, you’re shaking.’

  She swallowed. There was no fooling him. On the other hand, he was a doctor, and a skilled one at that. ‘I’m not that great with asthma attacks—sort of takes me back to my youth. I remember how scary they are.’

  He nodded and something flickered in his dark gaze. Sympathy? ‘Hannah can deal with it. You’re supposed to be off duty now anyway. Go home.’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head and managed a smile. ‘I’ll be fine. Honestly. I always am.’

  His eyes held hers and tension hummed between them, a living, breathing force.

  Louisa felt her mouth dry and her heart thud against her chest. He wasn’t her type, she reminded herself weakly, and she’d never been one just to go for looks.