by Sue MacKay
Was that a hint of a smile lifting the left corner of her mouth? Doubtful. He didn’t deserve one.
‘They’re on the kitchen bench.’
‘I’ll get them once you’re loaded.’ She shook her head. ‘Obviously you shouldn’t be left in charge of an axe. Getting distracted is plain dumb.’
‘Do you talk to all your patients like this?’
He knew she didn’t but she needed redirecting. Otherwise next he’d be spilling the reason why he’d been ‘plain dumb’. That would go down a treat. She’d probably leave him on the pavement and hurl that ambulance down the road, siren screaming, putting as much space between them as possible.
Because he would’ve seen and heard that blasted cat a lot earlier if Stephanie hadn’t been prowling around inside his skull.
‘Only the difficult ones.’
Her words slapped at him hard, unlike her light and yet assured fingers when she’d checked out his leg.
Kath had the gurney locked back in place inside the ambulance and was reaching for his arm.
‘This is going to hurt.’
At least she didn’t sound pleased about it, whereas Stephanie was probably shrieking with laughter on the inside.
A small but surprisingly strong hand took his other arm.
‘Let’s do it.’
Her fingers squeezed encouragement.
A quick glance at Stephanie’s face told him she didn’t want him hurting at all. Why was he being so stubborn? Because he didn’t want her to think he needed her help? He’d hurt her once by walking away before they got too involved—he wasn’t about to let her close again. She’d had her share of sorrows, and she didn’t need him adding any more. Because in the end he would. It was in his genes.
Biting down hard he took his first step, followed it up with a second, then a fast stumble to get inside the ambulance, groping with his good hand for the stretcher to collapse on to and take the pressure off.
The names he was silently calling himself for being so stubborn were unprintable. To put it bluntly, Stephanie was right: he was an idiot, a really stupid, dumb idiot...
‘Mike? What the—?’
His head flipped up. ‘Jock? Sorry, I got a bit tied up and forgot to phone you. I can’t make it tonight.’
They were supposed to be going for a beer before heading to Eden Park for the rugby game of the year between the Auckland and Wellington provincial teams. A game he’d been hanging out for ever since the beginning of the season.
‘Kind of reached that conclusion myself. What have you done now?’
‘Seems he’s not the macho forestry man with an axe he thought he was.’ Stephanie pushed around his friend and climbed into the ambulance.
‘He what?’ Jock stared at Stephanie for a long moment, then fixed that annoying, oh, so sharp look back on him. ‘You copped an axe?’
‘Something like that.’ Michael stared straight back. It was easier than watching Stephanie work on his leg.
Jock saw through him and grinned, but he wasn’t hiding the concern in his face. ‘Glad you’re not a surgeon, mate.’
Michael chose to ignore that concern, given how his friend was probably already thinking up ways to make a joke at his expense. ‘Make yourself useful and lock up the house for me, will you?’
‘Will do—and then I’ll follow you to the ED. Someone’s got to keep an eye on you.’
Jock turned to Stephanie and Kath. ‘Which hospital?’ When Stephanie told him he asked quietly, ‘He’s going to be okay, right?’
It was Stephanie who answered. Of course it was. Kath seemed to have taken a step back on this job.
‘He’s the doctor and he didn’t argue when I mentioned possible surgery.’
She could be sassy when she put her mind to it.
Jock was watching her far too closely. Would he remember briefly seeing her once, when they were knocking around together? Yeah, he would. The man had a phenomenal memory—especially for trivia. He also didn’t bother keeping things to himself if he knew he could rile his mates. But today Jock had better keep his big mouth shut or they’d be having words.
Pain stabbed in his thigh. He’d been focused on Jock and had moved without thinking. ‘Let’s get this show on the road,’ he grunted to Kath.
She nodded back. ‘I’ll drive, Steph.’
A hint of pink streamed into Stephanie’s cheeks. Had she been in the driving seat on the way here?
‘Sure.’ The finger on his pulse wobbled.
He could only hope her counting skills were still in good working order.
‘See you at the hospital,’ Jock called as the back doors closed.
‘Sure,’ he muttered, unable to deny the relief he felt that his pal would be hanging out with him in ED. Not that he wasn’t capable of facing hassles alone. He was used to it. It was just that he didn’t want to. Having a friend there when he felt like something the dog had regurgitated was what it was all about.
He even wished Stephanie still worked in the emergency department so she could stop by his cubicle occasionally until he was taken into Theatre. Because that was where he was headed.
Being a doctor didn’t make that any less daunting than it would be for any other patient. The op wouldn’t be major, but he’d still have to be anaesthetised. Not something that excited him. He hated being out of control. Once that drug sent him to sleep he wouldn’t know another thing until the anaesthetist brought him round again—if he woke up.
Another shudder and goosebumps lifted the skin on his arms. If only they could fix him up using a local anaesthetic so he could be aware of everything happening...
‘Lie down,’ Stephanie ordered in that no-nonsense voice she was very good at with recalcitrant patients. ‘You’ll rock around too much if you’re sitting, and that would not be good.’ Then that toffee gaze locked onto his. ‘Please?’ she asked softly.
His heart slowed as he looked into those brown depths. Concern radiated out of them. She cared. For him. He wasn’t just another patient to her. Warmth stole through his shaky body, flattened the goosebumps. For the life of him he couldn’t banish the sense of wonder at the thought of being special to someone—if he only had the courage to become involved without looking for the divorce at the end of it.
He didn’t want to be alone any more.
Which was scary—scarier than going under an anaesthetic.
No doubt it was all to do with post-accident shock. Had to be. Any other explanation was untenable.
‘Michael? Are you all right?’
Stephanie shook him gently—this time as a paramedic, not a friend.
‘Look at me.’
‘I’ll need help lifting my leg onto the stretcher.’
Could she possibly do that without touching him? Not even those gloves were protecting him from the warm sensation of her fingertips on his skin.
Blimey, could she be gentle... It hurt like stink to lift his leg and swivel his butt so he could lie down, but Stephanie didn’t add to his agony. Not at the site of his injuries anyway.
* * *
When Michael was wheeled into a room on the men’s surgical ward three hours later, feeling as though a bus had run him over and with a mouth drier than a drought, relief at being awake overwhelmed him. The anaesthetic hadn’t got him. Things were going his way. Plus the head nurse had given him a room to himself. Sometimes there were advantages to working in the hospital.
‘Up for a beer, mate?’ Jock strolled in, hands in his pockets, worry darkening his gaze, followed by Max, the other third of his lucky threesome.
So much for peace and quiet.
He smiled. ‘Sure.’
He and these guys went way back, to their first day of high school, and there wasn’t much they didn’t know about each other.
‘Shouldn’t you be at the rugby?’
>
‘Shucks, I knew we had to be somewhere else,’ Jock quipped.
‘You’re missing the game of the season to hang out with me?’
‘Nah, it doesn’t start for another hour. We’re foregoing the beers to check on you.’
‘Find me some clothes and I’ll come with you.’
‘Did I just hear what I thought I did?’
In walked Stephanie, looking frazzled yet cute in tight black jeans and a fitted red jersey that highlighted her dark blonde hair perfectly.
‘Depends how good your hearing is,’ answered Jock, before Michael could come up with an answer.
His brain had been in slow mode since he’d come round in Recovery. Probably just as well, or he’d have made some smart aleck comment to keep the guys from seeing how much she got to him. And they’d have seen right through it.
Not that he couldn’t enjoy lying there quietly watching her. She’d brushed her hair so it sat around her head with tantalising effect. As for that jersey—it highlighted each and every curve of her delightful breasts and narrow waist. Breasts and waist which he had no trouble recalling...could almost feel against the palms of his hands.
‘How did the surgery go?’ Stephanie stepped closer, a frown between her brows.
‘I haven’t talked to Chris yet,’ he managed to croak over his even drier tongue.
‘Chris Stuart operated?’ The frown relaxed. ‘He’s the best.’ Then she smiled and stepped away. ‘I’ll leave you to talk nonsense with your friends.’
But you just got here.
‘Ignore them. They can talk amongst themselves.’
‘No, I need to hit the supermarket.’
Supermarkets didn’t close till ten at the earliest.
‘Fair enough.’
He should be glad she wasn’t going to hang about. He wasn’t. Reaching for the water bottle on the bedside table, he groaned as murky pain reminded him of why he was there.
Instantly Stephanie picked up the bottle and handed it to him. ‘Dry mouth? Anaesthetic will do that.’
Gulping mouthfuls of the cool liquid made him feel slightly more normal.
‘Glad to see you’re not lonely in here.’
Chris Stuart stood in the doorway.
‘It’s busier than the downtown train station at rush hour,’ Michael muttered. ‘But at least I’ll have a ride home with someone.’
‘That’ll be tomorrow at the earliest.’ Chris came to stand at the end of the bed. ‘You’re post-op and unable to get around. No way you’re going home tonight. Not even to stay with one of this lot.’
‘Why? There weren’t any complications?’
‘No, all’s good, but you won’t be walking on that leg for a few days. The wound was serious. Your femur was nicked. Get the picture?’
Chris raised an eyebrow, which Michael ignored, not liking where this was going.
‘That wrist needs resting too.’ Chris held his hand up, palm outward, as Michael went to make a retort. ‘You’re no longer a gung-ho rugby player. You’re more than ten years older than when you used to run around the rugby paddock.’
‘Have you finished writing me off? Should I be buying a unit in the old folks’ home?’
Chris grinned. ‘If you want to get around without too much trouble in the future you’ll do as I say.’
‘Good luck with that,’ Stephanie muttered. ‘He walked to the ambulance earlier.’
‘Now, there’s a surprise.’ Chris was enjoying giving him a stir-up. ‘Hi, Steph. Didn’t know you were back in town. How’s things?’
‘Good so far.’
So far? What was she expecting to go wrong?
‘You’re back in the ED?”
Now his pals were listening in, their ears like radar shields on a roof.
‘I’m a paramedic on the ambulances now,’ Steph told the nosy surgeon. ‘Which is how come I got to bring this ungrateful man in for you to fix up.’
Max started laughing. ‘She doesn’t take any of your crap. I like her already.’
He didn’t have to like her. She wasn’t a part of their scene—didn’t know their wives or kids, and wasn’t going to. But he couldn’t be down and out rude.
‘Stephanie Roberts, meet another scoundrel—Max. We’ve been mates for ever.’ And before Chris could add his piece he went on. ‘I’ll manage on my own at home’
But no one was listening. The other three men in the room were focused on Stephanie as she answered Chris’s questions about where she’d been over the last couple of years.
‘Now I’m home for good.’ Her gaze drifted in his direction, flicked back to a spot on the floor in front of her.
‘Since you’re unencumbered, you could move in with Michael until he’s back on his feet. Better than having him hanging around our place, where the baby is bound to keep him awake at night.’ Smugness rolled off Jock as he showed his true colours.
‘No!’ Stephanie shook her head abruptly.
‘Hang on, I—’ Michael tried.
‘That’s a great idea,’ said Chris. ‘If you did that, Steph, I’d be happy to discharge Michael tomorrow morning, after I’ve checked him out. Otherwise I’ll have to keep him in for a few days. He’ll overdo things if he’s on his own.’
‘Sorry, but I go to work—night and day shifts. I wouldn’t be there all the time.’ She was almost pleading. ‘And I’ve got a dog.’
‘A dog and Mike?’ Max grinned. ‘Perfect.’
‘The dog loves digging holes in the garden.’ Steph sounded desperate.
Michael tried again. ‘It’s okay. I don’t need you there.’
‘We wouldn’t have to worry about him,’ Jock added. ‘Or go round to make sure he hasn’t fallen on his face.’
Definitely not a friend.
‘Hello? I am here.’
Chris laughed. ‘Annoying, aren’t they?’
‘Who needs friends when I’ve got these guys in my face?’
Jock stopped laughing and turned to Stephanie—and Michael knew. She was lost before she’d even got started. Which meant so was he. His mate was about to work his lawyering magic on her and she wouldn’t be able to beat him at his game.
He sank back into the pillows and waited. This was going to be good—even if he would be the ultimate loser.
‘Here’s the thing, Steph. Mike’s more than welcome to come stay with me and my family, but he won’t. He’s stubborn like that—won’t want to be a nuisance.’
Stephanie’s face was a picture as it dawned on her that she was on a road to nowhere. She was a quick learner. The colour in her cheeks ebbed away as her gaze remained on his mate’s face.
‘Mike won’t go to Max’s for the same reason. He will go home alone, regardless what any of us want,’ Jock continued. ‘I concede that he doesn’t want you with him, any more than you want him to be there, but he wants out of here ASAP so it is the best option.’
‘Maybe for Michael, but not for me,’ she whispered.
Michael silently applauded her valiant effort, all the while knowing it wouldn’t make a jot of difference.
‘Give me a moment,’ said Jock, in that take-no-prisoners voice that won him court case after court case. ‘You’re a nurse, right?’
Close enough. Once a nurse always a nurse.
This could go on for hours, and in the end he and Stephanie were going to lose anyway. There was a gloating gleam in his pal’s eyes that would take a bomb to shift. Which meant he had to give in, didn’t he?
‘Give up, Stephanie. Jock’s not going to let up until you fold. We’ll make it work.’
He’d almost stopped breathing, watching her, thinking about that kiss. He would make it work for both of them. Or die trying.
Stunned eyes turned in his direction. ‘You want me to move in temporarily?’
No.
But if not her then who? Because the only way he was getting out of here was with someone at home to run around after him. There was no alternative. None that he’d like, that was.
‘Two days. That’s all it’ll take for me to get mobile enough to look after myself. As you said, you’ll be working most of the time. These oafs can check in on me occasionally.’
‘Which kind of negates me staying with you,’ she snapped, desperate to the end.
‘I get that.’
It was hard to know what was eating at him the most: the fact she didn’t want to stay with him or the unexpected hope that she’d capitulate. He didn’t want her in his house, where he could see her and hear that soft, sweet voice too much, where that honey scent of hers would permeate the rooms, the air, everything. But if anyone had to sit in his lounge and eat takeaways with him then Stephanie was his pick.
‘What if I promise not to move all day while you’re at work?’
Left corner rising... Then her mouth straightened again. ‘There are complications with that—unless you get a potty from ED.’ Her nose wrinkled in that funny, cute way.
‘I can keep your dog company—make sure he’s not lonely and digging where he shouldn’t. All from my chair, of course.’
‘Why have you changed—?’ She stopped, swallowed and drew a deep breath.
The room was suddenly silent, and sounds from the ward outside infiltrated as everyone waited for Stephanie to continue. Michael could feel his lungs tightening as he held his breath. Having her in his house wasn’t going to be easy, but having her stick to her guns was starting to rile him. He was flat-out annoyed that she didn’t want to spend time with him.
He must have hit his head when he went down, because none of this was making sense.
‘I’ll do it.’
It was barely a whisper crossing her lips, but he heard each word clearly, felt each one on his skin like a light summer breeze coming off the sea.
‘Thank you.’
Best leave it at that, or she might change her mind. It was suddenly imperative she didn’t. Which meant he should be booking into a hotel for the next week—not going to his house—paying a nurse to come in and change his dressings—not letting this one near him. Because Stephanie Roberts had sneaked in under his skin once more and now he had to be extra-vigilant. He was not getting involved with her. Not, not, not.