by Sarah Morgan
But before he could say any more, the phone rang. Bryony picked it up, expecting it to be her mother ringing about the babysitting arrangements for that evening.
It was Toby and when she finally replaced the receiver she was silent.
‘What’s the matter?’ Jack was feeding Lizzie the last of her fish fingers. ‘Is he going to be late?’
‘He isn’t coming.’ Bryony looked at him, thinking that Jack didn’t look that surprised. He just carried on feeding Lizzie. She frowned. ‘She can feed herself, Jack.’
‘I know she can, but we’re playing zoos,’ he said calmly, ‘and at the moment I’m feeding the tigers. So why is your date off?’
‘Because Sean sent him over to Penrith to pick up some equipment for the team and it’s taken him ages to sort it out and he’s still there.’ She frowned. ‘Why didn’t he tell Sean that he had a date?’
Jack stabbed the last of the fish fingers, not looking at her. ‘Well, I suppose it was important.’
‘It sounded pretty routine to me,’ Bryony muttered, facing the fact that yet another date had turned into a disaster, this time before the guy had even turned up on her doorstep. She was jinxed. Or was she?
Suddenly she looked at Jack suspiciously, remembering his attitude to Toby when they’d gone on the rescue. Had he somehow engineered this so that they couldn’t go out? She knew he wasn’t comfortable with the idea of her finding a daddy for Lizzie. And if she found someone, obviously that would affect his relationship because he couldn’t just come and go the way he did at the moment.
Was he the reason Toby hadn’t turned up?
She glanced down at herself with a sigh. ‘All dressed up and nowhere to go,’ she said lightly, giving a shrug. ‘I suppose I may as well go and get changed.’
‘Why?’
Jack stood up and suddenly all she was breathlessly aware of were those sexy blue eyes watching her.
‘Well, there’s no point in wearing this—’ she gestured down to herself ‘—to eat baked beans.’
‘Who said anything about baked beans?’ he drawled softly, walking towards her with a distinct air of purpose. ‘Ring your mum and cancel.’
‘Cancel?’
He was so close now she could hardly breathe, and he gave her that smile that always made her insides tumble.
‘Yes, cancel.’ He put a hand under her chin and lifted her face to his. ‘I’ll cook dinner and you can wear the dress. You don’t need a babysitter.’
Her heart was pumping in her chest and her whole body throbbed with a sexual awareness that was totally unfamiliar. ‘You hate this dress.’
‘I never said I hated the dress.’
Their eyes locked and suddenly all she could think about was that kiss. The way it had felt when his mouth had claimed hers.
She wanted him to kiss her again.
‘You two are looking all funny.’ Lizzie was staring at them curiously. ‘Are you going to kiss?’
Bryony gasped and pulled away from Jack, her face flaming. She’d forgotten that Lizzie was still sitting at the table. ‘No!’ She was suddenly flustered. ‘We’re not going to kiss.’
‘I don’t mind if you do,’ Lizzie said generously, sliding off her chair and carrying her plate to the dishwasher. ‘Sally says it’s yucky when her parents do it, but I think it would be nice.’
‘Lizzie, we’re not going to kiss,’ Bryony muttered, not daring to look at Jack but feeling his gaze on her. She always knew when he was looking at her and he was looking at her now.
‘You blush easily, Blondie, do you know that?’ His voice was a soft, teasing drawl and Lizzie clapped her hands.
‘Mummy only ever goes that colour when you’re here, Jack.’
Deciding that the conversation had gone far enough, Bryony glanced at her watch. ‘And you should be getting ready for bed, Lizzie,’ she said quickly. ‘Do you want Jack to read you a story?’
‘Only if he doesn’t skip bits.’
Bryony risked a look at Jack. ‘Is that OK with you, or do you need to get going?’
‘That depends …’
‘On what?’
He winked at her. ‘What you’re cooking me for dinner—’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t you ever go home and cook for yourself, Jack?’
‘Why would I want to when I’ve got you to cook for me?’ He smiled and held up a hand. ‘Only joking. As it happens, I’m cooking for you tonight.’
‘You’re cooking for me?’
Jack never cooked. He lounged at her table, watching while she cooked. And actually she liked it that way. She found cooking relaxing and there was nothing she enjoyed more than an evening chatting with Jack.
‘I’m cooking for you. A gourmet creation right under your very nose. It’s your turn to be impressed, Blondie.’
‘But I was going out. How can you have the ingredients for a gourmet creation?’
He stooped to pick up Lizzie. ‘I just picked up a few things on my way home, in case I was hungry later.’
‘But you don’t even know where the supermarket is.’ Her eyes teased him. ‘Or are you telling me you finally asked for directions?’
‘No need.’ He displayed his muscles, flexing his shoulders and his biceps. ‘Man is a natural hunter.’
She lifted an eyebrow. ‘You went to the supermarket in your loin cloth?’
‘Of course. But I left my spear outside.’ His eyes gleamed wickedly and she felt herself blush.
It was only as he walked out of the room with Lizzie that she realised that he hadn’t actually answered her question about the food. How did he come to have the ingredients for a gourmet meal in his boot?
And why did he want her to keep the dress on when the last time she’d worn it he’d covered her up?
But the last time she’d worn it she’d been going out with another man.
Bryony plopped down on the nearest kitchen chair and wondered if Jack realised that he was displaying all the signs of a jealous male.
Probably not.
She hadn’t realised it herself until two seconds ago. But to be jealous you had to care, and Jack didn’t care about her. Not like that. Or did he?
She sat in silence, her mind running over everything that had happened since the night she’d walked into the pub and announced that she was going to start dating men again.
Jack had sabotaged every date.
Had he done that because of Lizzie? Because he didn’t want Lizzie to have a daddy?
Or had he done it because he hadn’t been able to see her with another man?
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE week before Christmas Jack, Bryony and Sean were in the staffroom discussing the mountain rescue team Christmas party, when Nicky rushed in, looking stressed.
‘I just had a call from Ambulance Control,’ she said breathlessly. ‘Ellie has driven her car into a ditch.’
‘Our Ellie?’ Jack was on his feet immediately, his expression concerned. ‘She’s nearly eight months pregnant. Is she OK?’
Nicky shook her head. ‘I haven’t got many details but they had to cut her out of the car.’
Bryony was already hurrying to the door.
‘She’s been poorly right the way through this pregnancy,’ Sean muttered, and Bryony remembered that he was very friendly with the couple outside work. ‘That’s why she gave up work early. Has anyone called Ben? This is his wife we’re talking about.’
Ben MacAllister was another of the A and E consultants, and Ellie had worked as a nurse in A and E before she’d become pregnant.
‘He’s away on that immediate care course,’ Jack reminded him, and Sean swore softly.
‘Well, someone get on the phone.’
They heard the ambulance siren and Jack turned to Bryony. ‘Call Tom,’ he said urgently. ‘I don’t know whether there’s a problem with the baby, but we’re not taking any chances and I want your brother here.’
Without questioning his decision, Bryony hurried to the phone and called h
er brother and then hurried to Resus where the paramedics had taken Ellie.
Jack and Sean were already examining her thoroughly.
‘Is Tom coming?’ Jack was giving Ellie oxygen, clearly concerned about the baby.
‘He’s in Theatre, doing an emergency section,’ Bryony told him, trying to hide her shock at seeing Ellie on the trolley. Her face was paper white and her blonde hair was matted with blood. ‘He’ll be down as soon as he can.’
Jack nodded and touched Ellie on the shoulder, lifting the mask away from her face for a moment. ‘You’re going to be fine, Ellie,’ he said softly. ‘The scalp wound is quite superficial. How are you feeling?’
‘Worried about the baby,’ Ellie said weakly, her normal exuberance extinguished by the shock of the accident and the pain she was in. ‘Has someone called Ben?’
‘He’s on his way,’ Nicky told her quickly, and Ellie gave a groan and closed her eyes.
‘He’ll be so worried—I wasn’t sure whether we should have called him really …’
‘He’d want to know,’ Sean said, his face unusually white and strained as he looked at his friend lying on the trolley. ‘What the hell were you doing, driving your car into a ditch anyway?’
Bryony saw Ellie smile and she lifted the oxygen mask from her face so that she could answer.
‘I swerved to avoid a sheep,’ she croaked, and Sean rolled his eyes.
‘Well, of course you did,’ he said gruffly, and looked at Jack. ‘This is your show.’
Jack nodded and Bryony knew that Sean was handing over responsibility to someone who wasn’t so close to Ellie. He was obviously finding it hard to be objective.
‘Nicky, I need a pad for that scalp wound. We can glue it later.’ Jack smiled down at Ellie. ‘You’re going to be fine, but I’m going to put a couple of lines in and check the baby.’
His voice was smooth and confident and he held out a hand to Nicky who’d already anticipated everything they were going to need.
Ellie shifted slightly on the trolley. ‘I’m bleeding, Jack,’ she murmured, her eyes drifting shut. ‘I can feel it. Oh, God, I can’t believe this is happening again. I’m going to lose it, I know I’m going to lose it.’
‘You’re not going to lose this baby,’ Jack said firmly, his swift glance towards Bryony communicating clearly that she should call her brother again.
Bryony called Theatre again, and explained the situation. In the meantime Sean had put two lines in, and Ellie was connected to various monitors and had an IV running.
‘Blondie, I want BMG, coagulation screen, rhesus/antibody status and a Kleihauer test. The foetal heart rate is good,’ Jack said softly, his eyes on the monitor. ‘Ellie, I’m just going to feel your uterus—I want you to keep that oxygen mask on now, please. No more talking, sweetheart.’
But Ellie clutched his arm. ‘If Tom can’t get here, I want you to section me,’ she croaked, her eyes suddenly swimming with tears. ‘Don’t let me lose this baby, Jack. Please, don’t let me lose this baby.’
Jack’s eyes locked on hers, his gaze wonderfully confident and reassuring. ‘If I have to section you here, I can and I will,’ he promised, ‘and you are not going to lose this baby, Ellie. I swear it. Trust me, angel.’ He looked at Nicky. ‘Get me a pack ready just in case. And someone tell Tom Hunter that if he doesn’t get himself down here in the next two minutes, he’s buying the drinks for the whole of next year.’
Swallowing back a lump in her throat, Bryony took blood and arranged for it to be sent to the lab, someone delivered the portable ultrasound machine and Jack carefully scanned Ellie’s abdomen, staring at the screen with total concentration as he looked for problems. He squinted closer at one area and exchanged glances with Sean who gave a discreet nod.
‘The foetal heart is still 140,’ Jack said, carrying on with the ultrasound until he was satisfied with what he’d seen.
Ellie tried to move the mask and Jack put a hand on hers to prevent her, anticipating her question.
‘The baby is fine,’ he said softly. ‘I can see the heart beating and he just kicked me really hard. He’s better in than out at the moment.’
Ellie gave a weak smile and closed her eyes again just as Tom strode into the room.
‘Sorry, folks—tricky section upstairs. How are you doing here?’
Jack briefed him quickly and Tom listened carefully, asking the occasional question, his eyes flickering to Ellie who had her eyes closed. For once he and Jack were serious, no trace of their usual banter or humour as they conferred. Tom washed his hands and approached the trolley.
‘Hi, Ellie,’ he said gently, ‘it’s Tom. I just want to check on that baby of yours.’
Ellie’s eyes opened and she looked frightened as she pulled the mask away from her face. ‘I want you to deliver it, Tom,’ she croaked. ‘Deliver it now. Please. I’ve got one of my feelings. A very bad feeling …’
Tom squeezed her shoulder briefly and then slid the blanket down so that he could look at her abdomen. ‘Trust me, Ellie,’ he said gently. ‘I’m not going to let you lose this baby.’
‘I marked the top of the fundus,’ Jack told him and Tom nodded as he examined Ellie thoroughly.
Five minutes later he glanced at Jack. ‘She’s bleeding quite a bit. I’m going to section her. Is there anything I need to know? Has she had a head injury?’
‘She has a minor scalp laceration but she wasn’t knocked out and her cervical spine is fine,’ Jack told him. ‘She’s all yours.’
Tom ran a hand over the back of his neck. ‘Is Ben coming?’
Ellie looked at him, her face pale. ‘Just do it, Tom,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t wait for Ben. Sean, will you stay with me?’
Sean stepped forward. ‘Try getting rid of me,’ he said gruffly, taking Ellie’s hand in his. ‘Let’s get her up to the labour ward and get this baby out.’
Everything happened swiftly after that.
Sean and Jack transferred Ellie up to the labour ward while Tom phoned around and called in the assistance of the top anaesthetist and two paediatricians, and then he sprinted up to Theatre after them.
Bryony and Nicky cleared up Resus, both of them quiet and worried about Ellie. They were still talking quietly, enjoying a brief lull in the usual run of patients, when Ben strode into Resus, his face drawn with worry.
‘Where is she?’
‘In Theatre on the labour ward,’ Bryony said immediately. ‘Tom is sectioning her.’
Ben sprinted back out of the room and Nicky sighed.
‘There goes a man in love. I remember when those two met. Ellie just wouldn’t let the man say no. Now he can barely let her out of his sight.’
‘Ellie will be fine,’ Bryony said firmly. ‘Tom is a brilliant obstetrician.’
She had every faith in her brother, and every faith in Jack. Surely there was no way that anything could happen to Ellie or her baby?
‘To baby MacAllister, as yet unnamed, and to Jack and Tom—’ Sean raised his glass ‘—and a job well done.’
The whole mountain rescue team was gathered in the Drunken Fox to celebrate the safe arrival of Ben and Ellie’s little boy.
Despite being just over four weeks early, he was doing well and was with Ellie on the ward.
Tom slung an arm round Jack’s shoulders, his expression solemn. ‘Just a question of knowing how, wouldn’t you agree?’
‘Absolutely.’ Jack nodded sagely. ‘That and natural brilliance.’
Tom reached for his beer. ‘And years of training.’
‘And finely honed instincts.’
Bryony rolled her eyes. ‘And massive egos.’ She looked at Sean. ‘Better book two extra places at the Christmas party just to make room.’
There was general laughter and the conversation switched to the annual Christmas bash.
Bryony slid onto a barstool. ‘So it’s tomorrow night?’
‘The venue has changed,’ Sean told everyone, and Bryony frowned when she heard where it was.
‘Over the other side of the valley,’ Sean agreed, ‘and if the weather carries on like this we’ll have to all go in the four-wheel-drives or we’ll be stuck in snowdrifts.’
‘That would make a good newspaper headline,’ Tom said mildly. ‘ENTIRE MOUNTAIN RESCUE TEAM RESCUED FROM SNOWDRIFT.’
‘It would be too embarrassing for words,’ Jack agreed with a mock shudder, ‘and it isn’t going to happen.’
‘Think of his ego,’ Bryony said seriously, her blue eyes wide. ‘It might never recover from the shock of such a public humiliation. It might shrivel to nothing.’
Sean finished his drink. ‘We’ll meet at the rescue centre at seven and go from there.’
‘Bryony and I don’t finish work until seven.’ Jack reached for his jacket. ‘I’ll drive her there in the Ferrari.’
Sean gaped at him. ‘You’re taking your Ferrari out on these roads? You’ll land it in a ditch.’
‘I will not.’ Jack looked affronted. ‘I am invincible.’
‘And so modest,’ Bryony said mildly.
In the end they were late leaving A and E and Bryony struggled into her dress in the staff toilet, thinking longingly of scented bubble baths and hairdressers. Most people spent hours getting ready for a Christmas party. She had less than five minutes and she could already hear Jack leaning on the horn of the Ferrari.
‘All right, all right, I’m here.’ She fell into the seat next to him, her work clothes stuffed haphazardly into a bag, her blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders. ‘I haven’t even had a chance to do my hair.’
‘You can do it on the way. We’re already late.’ Jack reversed the car out of his space and drove off in the direction of the next valley.
Bryony rummaged in her bag for her hairclips and gave a groan of frustration. ‘I think I left them at work.’
‘Left what at work?’
‘My new hair slide.’
Jack glanced towards her and frowned. ‘You look great. Leave it down.’
Bryony lifted a hand and touched her hair self-consciously. ‘I look as though I’ve just woken up.’
‘Precisely.’ Jack gave her a wicked smile, his voice a lazy, masculine drawl. ‘As I said—you look great.’