Saved by the Single Dad

by Annie Claydon

  That was all behind her. The tearing disappointment each month. The wedding, which Paul had postponed time and time again and had ended up cancelled. Lynette’s baby was the one she had to concentrate on now, and she was going to fight tooth and nail to get everything that her sister needed.

  * * *

  Jack was taking one thing at a time. He fixed his eyes on the church steeple, telling himself that this was the goal for the time being and that he just had to cajole his aching limbs into getting there.

  Slowly it rose on the horizon, towering dizzily above his head as they got closer. The church had evidently been here for many hundreds of years but, when Cass led him around the perimeter of the grey, weatherworn stones, the building behind it was relatively new. She walked through a pair of swing doors into a large lobby filled with racks of coats. At the far end, shadows passed to and fro behind a pair of obscure glass doors, which obviously led to the main hall.

  ‘The showers are through here.’ Cass indicated a door at the side of the lobby.

  ‘Wait.’ There was one thing he needed to do, and then he’d leave the rest to Cass and hope that the water was hot. ‘Give me your phone.’

  She hesitated. ‘The medical bags can wait. You need to get warm.’

  ‘Won’t take a minute.’ He held out his hand, trying not to wince as pain shot through his shoulders and Cass nodded, producing her phone from her pocket.

  ‘Thank you. Tell her that we’re going back down to fetch the medical supplies. I think I know how we can get them across.’

  It didn’t come as any particular surprise that she had a plan. Jack imagined that Cass was the kind of person who always had a plan. She was tall and strong, and moved with the controlled grace of someone who knew how to focus on the task in hand. Now that she’d pulled her hood back her thick red hair, cut in a layered style that was both practical and feminine, made her seem even more gorgeously formidable.

  His text to Mimi was answered immediately and confirmed that it was Rafe that he’d seen. Jack texted again, asking Mimi to pack whatever spare medical supplies they had into a bag.

  ‘Here.’ He passed the phone back to Cass. ‘She’s waiting for your call.’

  ‘Thanks.’ She slipped the phone into her pocket. ‘Now you get warm.’

  She led the way through to a large kitchen, bustling with activity, which suddenly quieted as they tramped through in their muddy boots and wet clothes. Beyond that, a corridor led to a bathroom, with a sign saying ‘Women Only’ hung on the door. Cass popped her head inside and then flipped the sign over, to display the words ‘Men Only’.

  It looked as if he had the place to himself. There was a long row of handbasins, neat and shining, with toilet cubicles lined up opposite and bath and shower cubicles at the far end. The place smelled of bleach and air freshener.

  ‘Put your clothes there.’ She indicated a well-scrubbed plastic chair next to the handbasins. ‘I’ll send someone to collect them and leave some fresh towels and we’ll find some dry clothes. What size are you...?’

  The question was accompanied by a quick up and down glance that made Jack shiver, and a slight flush spread over Cass’s cheeks. ‘Large will have to do, I think.’ She made the words sound like a compliment.

  ‘Thanks. That would be great.’

  ‘Do you need any help?’ She looked at him steadily. ‘I’m relying on you, as a medical professional, to tell me if there’s anything the matter with you.’

  If he’d thought for one moment that Cass would stay and help him off with his clothes, instead of sending someone else in to do it, Jack might just have said yes. ‘No. I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Good.’ She turned quickly, but Jack caught sight of a half-smile on her lips. Maybe she would have stayed. Working in an environment that was still predominantly male, Jack doubted that she was much fazed by the sight of a man’s body.

  He waited for the door to close behind her before he painfully took off his jacket and sweater. Unbuttoning his shirt, he stood in front of the mirror to inspect some of the damage. It was impossible to tell what was what at the moment. A little blood, mixed with a great deal of mud from the dirty water. He’d shower first and then worry about any bumps and scratches.

  A knock at the door and a woman’s voice, asking if she could come in, disturbed the best shower Jack could remember taking in a long time. Hurried footsteps outside the cubicle and then he was alone again, luxuriating in the hot water.

  After soaping his body twice, he felt almost clean again. Opening the cubicle door a crack, he peered out and found the bathroom empty; two fluffy towels hung over one of the handbasins. One was large enough to wind around his waist and he rubbed the other one over his head to dry his hair.

  He looked a mess. He could feel a bump forming on the side of his head and, although his jacket had largely protected the rest of him, he had friction burns on his arms, which stung like crazy, and a graze on his chest from where the zip on his jacket had been driven against the skin.

  ‘Coming in...’ A rap on the door and a man’s voice. A slim, sandy-haired man of about forty entered, carrying a pile of clothes and a pair of canvas shoes. ‘Hi, Jack. I’m Martin.’

  He was wearing a light windcheater, white letters on a dark blue background on the right hand side, in the same place that Jack’s paramedic insignia appeared on his uniform. When he turned, the word was repeated in larger letters across his back.

  ‘You’re the vicar, then.’ Jack grinned.

  ‘Yeah. My wife seems to think this is a good idea, just in case anyone mistakes me for someone useful.’

  ‘I’d always be glad to see you coming.’ Hope and comfort were often just as important as medical treatment.

  ‘Likewise. We’re grateful for all you did to get here.’ Martin propped the clothes on the ledge behind the washbasins. ‘They look nasty.’ His gaze was on the friction burns on Jack’s arms.

  ‘Superficial. They’ll be okay.’ Jack riffled through the clothes. A T-shirt, a grey hooded sweatshirt and a pair of jeans that looked about his size. He picked the T-shirt up and pulled it over his head so that he didn’t have to think about the marks on his arms and chest any more. ‘How’s my patient?’

  ‘Lynette’s fine. She’s over at the vicarage, drinking tea with my wife and complaining about all the fuss. She seems to have got it into her head that she’s got some say about when the baby arrives.’

  ‘You were right to call. At the very least she needs to be checked over.’

  Martin nodded. ‘Thanks. Cass has gone to get your medical supplies. Goodness only knows how she’s going to manage it, but knowing Cass...’

  Even the mention of her name made Jack’s heart beat a little faster. ‘She seems very resourceful.’

  Martin nodded. ‘Yeah. Bit too resourceful sometimes. Now, important question. Tea or coffee? I don’t think I can keep the Monday Club under control for much longer.’

  Jack chuckled. ‘Tea. Milk, no sugar, thanks.’

  ‘Good. And I hope you like flapjacks or I’m going to have a riot on my hands.’

  ‘You seem very organised here.’

  Martin nodded. ‘This church has been taking people in for the last eight hundred years. Wars, famine, fires... Now floods. I’ve never seen anything like this, though, and I’ve been here fifteen years. Half the village is flooded out.’

  ‘How many people do you have here?’

  ‘Just a couple of families staying overnight. We’ve found everyone else billets in people’s homes. But everyone eats here, and we have an action committee...’ Martin shrugged, grinning. ‘That’s Cass’s baby. I confine myself to tea and sympathy.’

  Jack reckoned that Martin was downplaying his own considerable role. ‘And hospitality.’

  ‘We’ve never turned anyone away before, and that’s not
going to start on my watch.’ A trace of determination broke through Martin’s affable smile and was quickly hidden. ‘Anything else you need?’

  ‘A phone? I’d like to call home.’

  ‘Yes, of course. The landline at the vicarage is still working; you can use that.’ Martin turned, making for the door. ‘Come to the kitchen when you’re ready and I’ll take you over there.’

  CHAPTER TWO

  MARTIN OPENED A side door that led out of the kitchen and they walked along a paved path, sheltered by makeshift awnings that boasted a few scraps of soggy coloured bunting hanging from the corners. Then through a gate and into the vicarage kitchen, which oozed warmth and boasted a table large enough to seat a dozen people.

  Lynette was red-haired like her sister, her features prettier and yet somehow far less attractive. She was heavily pregnant and Jack’s first impressions were that she was in the best of health. Although she’d been having minor contractions, she seemed stubbornly positive that the baby wasn’t coming yet. Jack begged to differ, but kept that thought to himself.

  He left Lynette on the sofa by the kitchen range and sat down at the table, where a cup of tea was waiting for him. ‘I’ll be able to examine you a little more thoroughly when your sister gets back with my medical bag.’

  ‘Thanks. But there’s really no need to worry. First babies are always late, aren’t they?’

  Sue, the vicar’s wife, frowned. ‘Not necessarily. My Josh was early.’ She pushed a large plate of flapjacks across the table towards Jack. ‘If I eat another one of those I’ll be sorry when I get on the scales. I wish the Monday Club would stop cooking...’

  Lynette laughed. ‘Not much chance of that. Mrs Hawes doesn’t like to see anyone going hungry.’

  Sue sighed, looking up as someone rapped on the glass pane of the back door. ‘It’s open...’

  The door swung inwards and two bags were placed inside. Then Cass appeared, her hair wet and slicked back from her face, holding her muddy boots in one hand and her wet jacket and overtrousers in the other. Sue relieved her of them and disappeared to put them in the front porch.

  ‘You got two across?’ Jack bent to inspect the contents of the bags.

  ‘Yeah, we got a line over about quarter of a mile down from the bridge. Mimi’s okay and she’s going back to the hospital with what’s-his-name.’ The corners of her mouth quirked into an expression that would have been unfathomable if Jack hadn’t been able to guess the situation. ‘She sends you her love.’

  Jack nodded, drawing a stethoscope and blood pressure monitor from the bag. ‘Right, ladies. If you’re comfortable here, Lynette, I’ll get on and do a more thorough examination.’

  * * *

  He’d given Lynette one last flash of those tender eyes and smiled at her, pronouncing that everything was fine. Lynette hadn’t even noticed what he hadn’t said, but Cass had.

  ‘She’s in the early stages of labour, isn’t she?’ Cass had shown him through to the small room behind the church hall, which had been earmarked as his sleeping quarters and already boasted a hastily erected camp bed in the corner, with sheets and blankets folded on top of it.

  ‘Yes. Although this could be a false alarm...’

  Another thing he wasn’t saying. ‘And it might not be.’

  ‘Yes.’ He scrubbed his hand back across his scalp, his short dark hair spiking untidily. ‘I have everything I need, and I’ve delivered babies plenty of times before.’

  ‘Really?’ Jack was saying everything she wanted to hear, and Cass wondered how much of it was just reassurance.

  ‘It’s not ideal, but we’ll get her to the hospital as soon as the weather lifts. In the meantime, you’ve done your job and you can rely on me to do mine.’

  A small curl of warmth quieted some of the fear. ‘Thanks. This baby is...’ Important. All babies were important, but this one was important to her.

  ‘I know. And he’s going to be fine.’ His eyes made her believe it. ‘Is the father on the scene?’

  ‘Very much so. He’s not here, though; Lynette’s husband is in the Royal Navy and he’s away at the moment. My father works abroad too; Mum was going to come home next week to help out.’

  ‘So it’s just you and me then.’ He contrived to make that sound like a good thing. ‘You’re her birth partner?’

  ‘Yep.’ Cass pressed her lips together. Going to classes with Lynette had seemed like the most natural thing in the world. The most beautiful form of sharing between sisters. Now it was all terrifying.

  ‘Good.’ His gaze chipped away at yet another piece of the fear that had been laying heavy on her chest for days, and suddenly Cass wondered if she might not make a half decent job of it after all.

  ‘I’d rather be...’ Anything. ‘I’d rather be doing something practical.’

  He laughed. ‘This is the most practical thing in the world, Cass. The one thing that never changes, and hopefully never will. You’ll both be fine.’

  She knew that he was trying to reassure her, and that his You’ll both be fine wasn’t a certainty, but somehow it seemed to be working. She walked over to the coil of ropes and pulleys that had been dumped here while she’d taken the bags through to the vicarage.

  ‘I’ll get these out of your way.’

  ‘Let me help you.’ Before she could stop him, he’d picked up the rope, leaving Cass to collect the remaining pulleys and carabiners up and put them into a rucksack. ‘You used this to get the bags across?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Hopefully he was too busy thinking about childbirth to take much notice of what he was carrying. The cut end was clearly visible, hanging from the coil of rope. ‘I borrowed the gear from one of the guys in the village who goes mountaineering.’ She slung the rucksack over her shoulder and led the way through to the storeroom, indicating an empty patch of floor, but Jack shook his head.

  ‘Not there; it’s too close to the radiator and rope degrades if it dries out too fast. Help me move these boxes and we’ll lay it flat over here.’

  Cass dumped the rucksack and started to lift the boxes out of the way. ‘You know something about rope?’

  ‘Enough to know that this one’s been cut recently, while it was under stress. Mountaineering ropes don’t just break.’ He bent to finger the cut end and then turned his gaze on to her.

  The security services had missed a trick in not recruiting Jack and putting him to work as an interrogator. Those quiet eyes made it impossible not to admit to her greatest follies. ‘I...cut the rope.’

  Somehow that wasn’t enough. He didn’t even need to ask; Cass found herself needing to tell him the rest.

  ‘Mimi shouted across, asking if we had a harness. They both seemed determined to try and get across, and medical bags are one thing...’

  ‘But lives are another?’ he prompted her gently.

  ‘Yeah. I was worried that they’d just go ahead and do it, and as soon as one of them put their weight on the ropes I wouldn’t be able to stop them. So, when we got hold of the second bag, I cut the rope.’

  He grinned. ‘I couldn’t see Mimi letting you haul a bag over and staying put herself on the other side. Nice job.’

  Cass supposed she might as well tell him everything; he’d hear it soon enough. ‘Not such a nice job. I miscalculated and the rope snapped back in their direction. Another few feet and it would have taken Mimi’s head off.’

  ‘It was...what, thirty feet across the river?’

  ‘About that.’

  ‘Weight of the bags...’ He was obviously doing some kind of calculation in his head. ‘Wouldn’t have taken her head off. Maybe given her a bit of a sting.’

  ‘Well, it frightened the life out of me. And what’s-his-name...’

  ‘Rafe...’

  ‘Yeah, Rafe tackled her to the ground.’

 
; Jack snorted with laughter. ‘Oh, I’ll bet she just loved that. Rafe always was a bit on the protective side where Mimi’s concerned.’

  ‘She didn’t seem too pleased about it. What is it with those two? Light the blue touchpaper?’

  ‘Yeah and stand a long way back.’ Jack was still chuckling. ‘Shame, really. They’re both good people, but put them within fifty feet of each other and they’re a disaster. Always will be.’

  ‘I know the feeling...’ All too well. Only Cass would be a disaster with any man. She’d never quite been able to move on from what Paul had said and done, never been able to shake the belief that he was right. She’d felt her heart close, retreating wounded from a world that had been too painful to bear.

  He didn’t reply. As Jack bent to finish arranging the ropes so they’d dry out properly, Cass couldn’t help noticing the strong lines of his body, the ripple of muscle. That didn’t just happen; it must have taken some hard work and training.

  ‘So you’re a mountaineer?’

  He shook his head, not looking at her. ‘No. My father. It’s not something I’d ever consider doing.’

  That sounded far too definite not to be a thought-out decision. ‘Too risky?’ Somehow Cass doubted that; Jack had just braved a flood to get here.

  ‘There’s risk and risk. My father died when I was twelve, free climbing. Anyone with an ounce of sanity would have used ropes for that particular climb, but he went for the adrenaline high. He always did.’ The sudden bitter anger in Jack’s voice left Cass in no doubt about his feelings for his father.

  ‘I’m really sorry...’

  He straightened up. ‘Long time ago. It was one of the things that made me want to go into frontline medicine. Going out on a limb to save a life has always seemed to me to be a much finer thing than doing it for kicks.’

  ‘And of course we both calculate the risks we take pretty carefully.’ Cass wondered whether Jack knew that the current calculation was all about him. She wanted to know more about the man who was responsible for Lynette’s safety, to gauge his weaknesses.